Throughout the 00s I lived on Moo 9 on Soi BongKot in Pattaya. My house backed onto what I called nature reserve. The Thais said it was a ‘chaai laehn’ or swamp. Their definition was justified by the hordes of mosquitoes haunting the dusk, but the various birds thrived on the nightly swarms. Few farangs or westerners lived on the street. I spoke with none of them.
My ex-wife regarded them with contempt.
The Thais are like the French in their haughtiness.
They are better than anyone.
My Thai neighbors tolerated me.
I spoke their language with a Boston accent and wore funny clothes.
My Sikh tailors made me egg-yolk yellow trousers.
“I will never go out with you wearing those.” My ex-wife hated them, even though the color yellow honored the King.
“Fine.” I wore them whenever I wanted a night out on the town and Pattaya was quite a town to go out on in the 00s.
My dog Champoo had no problem with my trousers.
She liked me no matter what I wore, because a dog is man’s best friend.
And none were a better dog than Champoo
To hear Donovan’s MELLOW YELLOW please go to the following URL