Celebrate our 27 billionaires

Apparently, Changi Airport's plush arrival lounge for private jets plays the same music on a loop.

It is not Dick Lee's Home or Majulah Singapura.

It's Shirley Bassey's Hey, Big Spender.

As the international jet-setters swagger into the country, dear old Bassey belts out: "The minute you walked in the joint, I could see you were a billionaire with distinction... Hey big spender, spend a little money in Singapore."

When it comes to wooing billionaires, our sunny island could not be any less subtle if we all wore ski-masks, bashed rich new arrivals over the head and said: "Give us all your money."

We don't quite go to that extreme, of course.

This is Singapore. It's not the East London I grew up in, where residents didn't actually bash rich visitors over the head and demanded their cash - they bashed anyone over the head.

But in Singapore, we love the odd billionaire or 27, don't we?

Earlier this week, we lined up the trumpeters in our national business pages to formally announce the 27 billionaires living among us.

Okay, not quite among us. I doubt there was any among us on the No. 197 bus earlier this week when I squeezed myself between an auntie and a yuppie who occupied his time by rolling the contents of his nose.

According to the inaugural - though I'm pretty sure it won't be the last - Wealth-X and UBS Billionaire Census 2013, Singapore has 27 billionaires, the fifth largest billionaire population in Asia.

Well, I don't know about you, but I grabbed the neighbours, headed downstairs, picked up some foreign gardeners toiling in the midday sun and we all set off down the street singing: "Celebrate good times... Come on!"

There was a party going on right here; a celebration to last throughout the years. Hang on.

I'm just repeating Kool and the Gang lyrics.

But that was the mood of the moment.

When I told the 71-year-old Malay cleaner at my daughter's school that we had the fifth most billionaires in Asia, he waved the broom above his head, wiggled his hips and cried: "Everyone around the world, come on!"

My naivety in such lofty financial matters does make me rather curious how these outlandish figures are obtained.

When I think of census takers, I picture eager folks holding clipboards, knocking on doors and getting told: "Look, we don't want any bathroom cleaning products."

Personally, I'd pay good money to watch a census taker knock on doors within the housing estates. Imagine the exchanges.

"Eh, sorry ah, very fast one. How many billionaires you got living in your three-room flat?"

"Wah, how many, ah? Altogether? Well, there's Auntie Soh, Uncle Tay and I think Uncle Choo also can. He won $30 on Singapore Sweep last week."

"You have three billionaires in your flat?"

"Please lah, there's more chance of having three Beatles in the flat. And there's only two still alive."

Obviously, the census takers didn't rely on such old-school research methods to find Singapore's billionaires. They just ran through the private gaming rooms of the two casinos shouting: "Everybody out, there's a fire!" They counted 27 at the fake fire drill and let them all back in again.

(Yes, it's a joke. To reiterate, I'm not really suggesting billionaires are all gamblers. Nor am I advocating running through a casino and shouting 'there's a fire'. It's a childish thing to do and I'm now banned from both casinos.)

But I wonder if these billionaires hang out together to shoot the breeze, count their cash and discuss whether to eat the half ball against Manchester United.

Where do these 27 folks eat? Do they ever wear the same socks twice? And, to borrow the phrase from my father, do they use dollar bills instead of toilet rolls?

The queries might be silly, but perhaps not as silly as lining up 27 billionaires on the national stage for the rest of the country to... to... what exactly? Applaud? Pop champagne corks? Grow a Wayne's World mullet, drop to our knees and cry: "We're not worthy! We're not worthy!"

Still, there was no time to ponder such weighty issues as the good times just kept coming.

On the same day as our billionaires numbers were released, the latest COE prices were reported. The premium for small cars fell by $4,280 to a rock-bottom, bargain-basement price of $72,609.

It was almost too much good news to take in. If this continues, we might want to consider temporarily changing the national anthem to Kool and the Gang's Celebration.

If nothing else, think how much fun the National Day Parade will be.

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