Never forget, never forgive

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Twenty-five years now since that nightmare morning.

And now a radical Muslim is the mayor of NYC. And another terrorist sympathizer who thinks the USA deserved the WTC attack is running for the Senate. We’ve come a long way, haven’t we? I’m old and will likely be dead when the real shit hits the fan, but you never know. Here’s the post I wrote on the twentieth anniversary of that fateful morning. I was working in DC that morning and felt the Pentagon attack in an up-close and personal way. It changed me and put me on the path that led me to work for the US Army in Korea.

I’ve also been remembering to honor two of the heroes of 9/11 every year:

James Raymond Coyle.
Samuel Oitice

May all those Americans who perished that day rest in eternal peace.

I’m a long way from my homeland here in the Philippines, and the life I’ve chosen to live goes on. Yesterday had some unusual elements, including a morning without rain. We took advantage of that rare opportunity to undertake an umbrella-free hike.

This tree I saw along the way did remind me of an umbrella for some reason.
And this reminded me of that old play, “Cat on a Hot Tin Roof.” I guess the dog was enjoying a moment in the sun.
This flat cat on the highway wasn’t so appealing.
Death comes for us all, sooner or later. Amante was only 36. Armando was five days shy of his 66th birthday. RIP fellas.
The route of our 6.5K rain-free journey.

Another unusual happening yesterday was me making up a batch of my Aunt Pat’s World Famous Fruit Salad. It’s been quite a while since I’ve done that, and the inspiration was finding a bag of flaked coconut at the Royal Supermarket. It’s the first time I’ve ever seen it in the Philippines, which is weird, because coconuts grow wild here. In the past, I’ve had to use diced fresh buko (what they call the coconut innards here) instead. It’s okay, but not as sweet, and the purpose of the coconut is to sweeten the salad.

The ingredients. I prefer to use pecans, but all Swan could find at the local market were walnuts.
I didn’t realize they were whole walnuts until I opened the bag. It was a pain in the ass to crack them open and separate the nuts from the chaff.
Trust me, the fruit salad tastes better than it looks. I’ll be making another batch soon.

We caught another break in the rain late in the afternoon, which made the walk into town more pleasant than usual. We parked our butts at Sloppy Joe’s and enjoyed the street-view ambiance. Across the street, the new Voodoo Bar was preparing for its grand opening, and at the appointed hour (6 p.m.) we headed over for a looksee.

The flyer posted on Facebook. It’s an AI lie, of course. None of the gals looked like that.
The Voodoo entrance is appealing.
And some of the Voodoo innards.

I was shy about taking photos, but everything inside is new and fresh. The CR has a single toilet and no urinal, which is a little unusual for a male-oriented bar. The bar’s interior is on the smallish side and features a pool table near the entrance, six customer tables, and a stage in the middle. The stage is smallish, but they had six gals crammed on it, and they were all slender and fairly attractive (which is a rarity these days). They also had a bunch of waitresses/GROs, and I couldn’t help thinking that even if all the tables were full of customers, the girls would still outnumber the menfolk. I’m not sure how this arrangement will impact profit margins, but maybe making money isn’t important to this owner, who has now purchased seven bars in the notoriously slow Barretto bar market.

So, I’m going to refrain from judgement until the bar has been up and running for a while and I’ve visited again. That said, my first impression was poor. I was hoping for something like the old Green Room vibe (Jim, the Voodoo manager, used to manage the Green Room), but alas, it comes off as just another girly bar. Sadly, they elected to play crap disco music at high volume, one of my pet peeves. As I say, I’ll give it another chance, but it doesn’t appear to be my kind of place.

Oh, the dancers were good and actually dancing. So, I knew they weren’t first-nighters. Jim told me they all moved over from the Lux Bar, which closed down on Saturday. Now, I didn’t visit Lux often, but it was definitely better inside (larger, more comfortable seating, nicer ambiance) than what I saw in Voodoo. So, Lux couldn’t stay in business with all those advantages. I’m not sure how Voodoo will do better. But as they say, when one bar (door) closes, another bar (door) opens. Good luck with that!

We had our nightcap at Rum Jungle (the former Green Room). It was odd, but after my time at Voodoo, Rum Jungle was better than I remembered it being. The biggest difference I noticed was the music. Even with dancers on stage, they saw fit to play songs suited to the bar patrons. Yeah, we are a bunch of old fuckers who like music from the 70s in our 70s, but we’re spending the money, so cater to our tastes, damn it! I wound up splurging during our visit, buying three gals (waitress, GRO, mamasan) two lady drinks each. Hey, I was in the mood!

Then it was time to head for home and a heaping helping of my Aunt Pat’s recipe fruit salad. Yep, I’m a lucky bastard.

Moving on to December 2021 in the LTG archives, and me and my new love have hit the first bump in the road in our relationship. Alas, there were more bumps to come, and the woman I thought was perfect for me didn’t share that feeling towards me. The thoughtful comments on that post meant a lot to me back then, and I enjoyed re-reading those words of wisdom today. Coincidentally, she was in the parking lot at 7/11 with her new flame this morning and didn’t even acknowledge my presence. Time moves on.

Today’s YouTube video shares ten shocking cultural differences foreigners discover in the Philippines. Yeah, I’ve experienced them all, and I’m glad to be here.

Time for a smile or three:

So, what you are saying is I don’t have a prayer?
What are friends for?
Look at those prices! He’s trying to scalp his customers.

Okay, I’ll stop now. We’ve had a nice break in the weather so far today. Let’s see how long this one lasts.

Okay, this is the song “Only Time” by Enya. It’s beautiful on its own, but it is especially moving with the 9/11 background photos. The pussies at YouTube don’t want your feelings to be hurt, so you have to watch it there. Go ahead and give it a click to remember the day we’ll never forget.

A short cut

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It’s true. Rain or shine, boring or not, this is the best life that I have, and I’m happy to be living each day as it happens. Keep ’em coming!

Sometimes you just gotta go with the flow. The Wednesday Walkers group took a pass on hiking during another rainy morning. So instead, I opted to do a stroll through the neighborhood to get some steps in.

Said my good morning to Easter Mountain.
And took in the rainy bay view.
Just a little over 4K, but better than nothing.

Since it had been over a week since I last showered (washing from a bucket just ain’t the same), I decided it was time to once again visit the Anbon Hotel to book a short-time room. The deluxe rooms come with a hot shower and cost 400 pesos for two hours. So, I handed over the cash and headed for my room. Got naked, stepped into the shower, turned the water on, and it never warmed up. I turned the water heater on and off, hit the breaker switch, but all to no avail. Well, that pissed me off, but not enough to redress and go back to the front desk for a new room. A cold shower wasn’t pleasant, but better than nothing. After I shaved, I took a piss, and the f’n toilet wouldn’t flush. I finished my body maintenance, got dressed, and turned the shower over to Swan. We agreed to meet up at It Doesn’t Matter, conveniently located right across the street from Anbon, when she was done cleaning up. On the way out, I informed the front desk about the water heater and toilet, but they didn’t offer any refund or discount. Next time I need a room, I’ll look for a better option, even if it costs me more.

A lot of bars are running out of XL beer, but IDM still has it in stock, and it was colder than my shower. As I was enjoying my brew, Gary, an old buddy who lives in San Antonio, dropped in. He goes shopping at Royal once a week and sometimes stops in Barretto for a beer on his way home. So we had a nice catch-up chat. Swan arrived and had her usual glass of wine.

I served up a bag of cookies for these passersby junk collectors (they make money from recycling).

But I had other business to attend to, so we headed up the highway. I dropped Swan off at Red Bar while I proceeded on to the barbershop. I tried a new barber this time, and we had a communication barrier. I told him I just wanted a trim, and he responded, “A number one?” I’ve never heard a number assigned to a haircut and had no clue what he meant. So, I repeated that I just wanted it cleaned up a little. My old barber always used scissors, but this guy used the electric shears and went high up, and I’m like, hold on, not so much! But it was too late, and obviously the other side had to be cut to match. Oh, well. It will grow back eventually, and at least I won’t need another haircut for quite a while.

I don’t much care for it, but Swan and the gals at Red Bar say it’s gwapo. I guess that’s the important thing.

We had a nicer-than-usual time hanging out at Red Bar. Manager Cliff was blasting the patio music louder than usual, so we moved away from the speakers and sat with him at his table. Cliff asked what I wanted to hear, so I asked him to play “In the Mood” by Glen Miller. People seemed to enjoy that classic tune, and I got Swan up to do a little swing dancing to everyone’s amusement. When it was my turn to request a song again, I went with “El Paso” by Marty Robbins, a country song I grew up listening to (my dad was a big Robbins fan). Cliff is an Aussie and had never heard it before. For my final selection of the night, I chose the only Australian song I could think of, “Tie Me Kangaroo Down, Sport.” Cliff wasn’t impressed, calling the singer, Rolf Harris, a pedophile. When I looked him up on Wiki just now, it turns out he was convicted of diddling underage girls. I never knew that. Anyway, Cliff followed up with “The Land Down Under,” which is indeed a much better representation of his homeland.

It was time for Cliff to go home (he opens the bar at 0900), and his wife Ashley escorted him in the trike. Swan and I headed to Cheap Charlie’s mostly because I was craving the Foodies iteration of a chicken quesadilla. As is my custom, I bought the waitress crew some pancit and lumpia to enjoy. I had started the beer drinking an hour earlier than usual (thank goodness it’s only 3% XL), but I was feeling like I’d had enough. As we made our way to the trike stand near It Doesn’t Matter, Swan surprised me by saying she wanted to stop in to IDM for one more. Who am I to argue? And so we finished our wet night on the town where we had begun four hours earlier.

It’s good to be alive.

From the November 2021 LTG archives is a post that tells the story of what may very well have been my best day ever in the Philippines. Woke up next to the woman I was falling in love with and she suggested we have a hiking adventure in the hills of San Antonio. Wow, that was totally out of the blue, but we caught a bus and were on our way. It was an amazing day that I’ll always remember.

Today’s YouTube video shares ten Pinoy words that English speakers may not understand. Well, I’ve heard them all over the years and do understand their meanings. The funny thing to me is that most of them are variations of English words (like saying “Xerox” instead of “copy”). Anyway, it’s short and sweet and kind of amusing.

Let’s get to the funny business:

Bitch, you should say your…
This meme is the definition of stupid.
And later that night, he mysteriously fell down the stairs.

I hate to rain on your parade, but that’s all I’ve got on another wet afternoon. Will wonders never cease?

What was

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Yep, but better to be old and worn than to be decomposing.

Not a lot to say about what was yesterday, so let’s get it over and done with, shall we?

First up was getting the weekly grocery shopping done, and I did. Five thousand pesos were spent at YBC supermarket, mostly for the contents of the goody bags we hand out on the candy walks. Then on to Royal to restock the cabinets, and another eleven thousand gone forever.

I do have my limits. As much as I like string cheese, I don’t like it this much.

Ten days and counting now with no running water at the house.

At least the water truck comes by periodically to refill our containers.

It rained all day again. As I suspected, this season has been unprecedented. Here are the August stats for Olongapo City:

Yesterday’s downpour didn’t even have the courtesy to let up some for my beer o’clock walk into town. I went anyway, but the wind pretty much rendered my umbrella ineffective.

We took some shelter from the storm at It Doesn’t Matter.
Rainwater runoff invaded the patio area, but waitress Cielo scooped it up and carried it back out before it got inside the bar.

We did our nightcap at Wet Spot and had the usual good time. Then back home for some strawberry-banana smoothies to bring a sweet end to the day.

From the November 2021 LTG archives, I was experiencing a different kind of sweetness with my new love. We were off to a good start!

Today’s YouTube video shares the vlogger’s experience exploring Manila. I despise that city and avoid it to the extent possible. Intramuros does look interesting, and I wouldn’t mind exploring it one of these days. BGC and Makati, the upscale districts, are nice enough, but a bitch to get to in the notorious Manila traffic. Anyway, it was nice to see his experience as he explored the city.

I have a (funny) bone to pick with you:

Why not use some French fries for legs?
That’s a shocking development.
That’s putting social media to a useful purpose.

What a long, strange trip it’s been. It’s all groovy, and I’m gonna keep on truckin’!

Follow the Hare

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I liked those joints during my first trip through the 70s better than the aching joints I have now.

Well, it only hurts until the pain goes away. And when the pain goes away, I’ll be dead. So, given the option, I can live with the hurt.

Let’s talk about yesterday’s Hash. It was a wet one. The rain never let up all day. The poor Hare couldn’t mark the trail in advance because the marking tools- powder, paper, and chalk couldn’t withstand the constant exposure to water. So instead, the Hare, Demolition Derby, led the pack of Hashers on a “follow me” trail through the streets of Matain and Calapacuan. I don’t recall having done a trail in that manner previously, but it worked out okay. Until it didn’t. After an hour or so, I discerned that Derby was going to lead us back to the On-Home at Smokes and Bottles via a long walk on the Govic Highway. That wasn’t appealing to me, so Swan and I had the bright idea of shortcutting through the neighborhood backstreets. Oops, that was a major fuck up. Turns out most of those streets were underwater. I’m talking knee-deep wading that went on for a kilometer or so. Not fun!

Here are some photos from the Hash adventure.

The brave souls who didn’t let the rain stop them from Hashing.
Heading out on the National Highway.
Bayside in the rain.
At least it was low tide.
Over the seawall we go.
Street strollin’
Exciting shit, eh?
Holding court.
That’s Snake Island out there in the rain haze.
Passing by the beached boats.
And back in the ‘hood.
Retreating from a dead end, I suddenly found myself in front.
This should have given me a clue, but I didn’t heed it.
The path I chose wound up looking like this, but I opted not to retreat.
A Swan taking to the water. And so it goes.

Still, better to be just passing through than having to deal with this 24/7 like the locals.

We went thataway.
Back safe and sound at Smokes and Bottles.
They look so dry because they didn’t walk the trail
Gangster Bitch and Cums Alone sharing a hug.
Time to Circle up.
Hares on the ice.
Always Wet looks like a girl with something extra.
A virgin Hasher preparing to be deflowered.
We made Stewed Rat a cake for his birthday.
Demented Dickhead got the Hashit this week.
And as usual, the day ended with the after-Hash at It Doesn’t Matter.

Wet and wild is the way we rolled through another day in the life.

The Facebook AI Gods offered to alter that old photo I posted yesterday of me and my daughter at her high school homecoming queen event:

She got a kick out of it.

Now it is November 2021 in the LTG archives, and it seems God is calling my bluff about giving up on love. Paula, the gal I had been crushing on from a distance, invited me to a gathering for her birthday and told me she was interested in giving me a try. Wow! I responded by inviting her to hike with me, and she accepted. Where do I go from here? Well, I know where I went, but that’s a story for another day.

Today’s YouTube video is about tipping in the Philippines. Unlike in the USA, tipping is not expected here, and tips of any amount are appreciated. I’ve altered my tipping philosophy since moving here, but I will usually tip at least 10%, especially when I can tip my server directly (the group tip boxes don’t resonate with me). I know many of my fellow expats don’t come from a tipping culture and think it is a stupid American habit. You do you, and I’ll do me. It’s my money to spend as I see fit.

Now let’s head for the humor zone:

Whatever you do, don’t have kids with her!
Death might be a blessing for this guy.
It’s been a long time since I’ve unwrapped a peanut butter cup.

And yes, it is STILL fucking raining today. Someone posted that this makes 39 straight days. I guess that makes this situation to be of Biblical proportions. Hmm, how long can I tread water?

Good to go

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Life is for learning; just give me a few more years.

Today is my firstborn’s birthday. It was 51 years ago that fatherhood found me and changed my life forever. I told that story here if you want to read all about it.

Happy Birthday, Renee Bonnie.

In other news, this happened yesterday morning:

Who knew the sky was blue?

So, we took advantage of the pause and were good to go for the Sunday Sweets Street Stroll.

The kids seemed happy to see us again after a two-week hiatus.
And it was nice to be out and about again.
The angry bay seemed to be warning us that trouble was brewing on the horizon. Yeah, but we made it home again before the downpour arrived.

Things got better again late in the afternoon, so the walk to Red Bar didn’t require the umbrellas.

Hanging out on the Red Bar patio is part of our Sunday routine.

The other part of our Sunday evening routine is a nightcap at Jumpin’ Jacks. Last night may well have been our swan song. The new management has brought in their own crew, so we were saddened to learn that our old pals were on their last night at the newly renamed Red Square Bar.

Thanks for the memories. We’ll miss you all.

I did put in a word for them with the manager of the soon-to-open Voodoo Bar, so hopefully they’ll be reemployed soon.

Needless to say. we splurged on lady drinks as a going-away gift for the gals. And I reckon I’ll be looking for a new Sunday nightcap hangout. Voodoo might work.

And that’s the tale of how my Sunday went down.

It’s the end of October 2021 in the LTG archives, and I’m thinking about possible next steps. My “friends with benefits” program wasn’t working out as planned, and I was crushing big time on a special woman I had met recently, which made me question my decision to live a loveless life. Two quotes in that post aptly define my internal conflict:

If I had been born a woman I would certainly have been a prostitute. Since I had been born a man I craved women constantly, the lower the better. And yet women—good women—frightened me because they eventually wanted your soul, and what was left of mine I wanted to keep. Basically I craved prostitutes, base women, because they were deadly hard and made no personal demands. Nothing was lost when they left. Yet at the same time I yearned for a gentle, good woman, despite the overwhelming price. Either way I was lost. A strong man would give up both. I wasn’t strong. So I continued to struggle with women, the idea of women.

Charles Bukowski

Man, Bukowski, also a former postal worker, and I had a lot in common when it comes to women folk. Then there is this one from one of my favorite writers:

“Like attracts like. Just be who you are, calm and clear and bright. Automatically, as we shine who we are, asking ourselves every minute is this what I really want to do, doing it only when we answer yes, automatically that turns away those who have nothing to learn from who we are, and attracts those who do, and from whom we have to learn, as well.”

Richard Bach

What a long, strange trip it’s been.

Today’s YouTube video is another one of those short dramas (this one is five minutes long) that I find enjoyable to watch. Most likely because they appeal to my ever-shortening attention span.

Time out for some humor:

Swan tries to teach me words and phrases in Tagalog, and when I remember one and get it right, she seems pleased. One of the deciding factors in my choosing the PI for retirement is that English is widely spoken here.
Caring is sharing.
Dude, he could cast a spell and cure you!

And now another Hash Monday is upon me. Guess what, the rain is back in full force once more. Still a couple of hours before we hit the trail, so hopefully things will calm down some by then.

Hmm, not looking good.

Oh, well. At least I won’t be sweating.

No dancing in the rain

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Funny how that works, but here I am, early to bed and early to rise.

Once again, it was too wet to get out about for most of the day yesterday, which meant no Decay Dance this week. It sucks to be stuck inside all day. Of course, when beer o’clock beckons, there is no stopping me. Fortunately, there was only a light rain during my journey into town, and my umbrella provided adequate protection.

First stop, Sloppy Joe’s. This is one of the few bars in town that seems to be holding its own. Several big-screen TVs showing a variety of sporting events are one draw. They were also having a pool league match during my visit. Me, I’m content to just sit on my stool and take in the street view and passersby.

A classic Philippine view yesterday. Jumbled wires dangling haphazardly and a pole that is destined to fall any day now, most likely causing a power outage when it does.

Three XL beers later, I was ready for some grub and decided to visit Sit-n-Bull. Someone had posted a picture on Facebook of the SnB pulled pork sandwich, which triggered my desire for one.

There it be. It definitely hit the spot.

Alas, Sit-n-Bull doesn’t stock XL beer for some odd reason (they used to have Zero back in the day), so I made do with a San Mig Light.

I wasn’t sure where I wanted to go next, so I just moseyed down the road to see what impulse might strike me. I briefly considered Cyclone, but rejected the idea. Nipsey’s was closed for some reason, and so I ultimately decided I couldn’t go wrong with Queen Victoria. As I walked in, the bartender informed me that XL was out of stock. I guess it is getting popular. Manager Jake said he’d tried to get some off the San Miguel truck and from a local beer distributor, and neither had any available. Weird, why introduce a new beer and then not brew enough to keep the bars supplied? Oh, well. Take a deep breath, relax, and accept the Filipino way. San Mig Light for me, then.

The beer situation notwithstanding, I did enjoy my visit. Some big spender was there, playing darts with a group of gals and buying them all drinks. It was kind of fun to watch, even though none of them had any talent for the game. Then the guy rang the bell (3500 pesos), providing a drink for all the ladies working. Good on him!

I was ready to move on, but not ready to call it a night, so I paid the rare visit to SnackBar. They at least had some XL beer available for me. I sat with one of the waitresses I’ve known over the years, and of course, provided her with a lady drink. The owner, a former love of mine, was at the next table chatting with a customer, but she did at least welcome me this time. Two beers for me, and I was done. A trike stand right next door made getting home a breeze. And so ended another rainy day.

My new housekeeper, Swan’s sister Cyrene, is going above and beyond the call of duty. I was impressed to see how she has decorated the foyer at the front door of my house:

Makes me feel almost like a hero!

On with the October 2021 LTG archives, and today is a two-fer. I did this post about firing one of the participants in my “friends with benefits” program due to her constant begging outside the scope of our helping-each-other encounters. A few days later, I did a follow-up post responding to criticisms that I had just given a new name to what amounted to old-fashioned prostitution. Sex was honestly not the intent, although admittedly, it turned out to be a byproduct. My needs were for companionship, and that could be satisfied in ways that didn’t involve sex (hiking, massage, etc.). In return, I would help with some of their financial needs. The real purpose was to stop the incessant begging, and in that regard, the program admittedly failed.

Today’s YouTube video is something I posted on Facebook 13 years ago. It’s as funny now as it ever was. Perhaps one of the best pranks ever. I especially enjoyed the pissed-off reactions of some of the victims when they found out the joke was on them. Worth the two-minute watch, trust me.

We’re on a roll, so let’s keep the humor coming:

I guess he found out what fucking around can lead to.
So bad they are almost good.
It’s not the fall that kills you; it’s that sudden stop at the end.

We’ve gotten a bit of a break today. Still some occasional showers, but I was able to get out for a stroll this morning. Felt good! Rumor has it we might not have water for another two weeks because they can’t fix the pipe until the river recedes.

The Matain River, as seen from my patio yesterday…
…and just now. So, it appears it’s gone down a few feet already.

Oh well, it is what it is, and that’s all I’ve got to say for today.

In a rut

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I’m a lefty (except for politics). Well, now that I think about it, I learned to throw and bat right-handed in baseball. Had a hand-me-down glove from my older brother.

We’ve been in the red weather-wise, which is why I’m in a rut—no hikes for two straight days now. I miss being out and about. But at least today’s post will be brief since I have little to bore you with.

Why don’t you leave us alone?
We are taking the brunt of it here in Zambales.

Me being me and all, I still managed to make my way into town to celebrate beer o’clock. I began my journey at It Doesn’t Matter.

The rainy-day view from my table.

That’s Tony sitting there on the right. He’s not doing so well lately. He’s trying to get back to the UK for treatment. Hope things turn out for him; he could barely move yesterday. We had to help him into that chair.

Three XL beers later, I crossed the highway and climbed the stairs to Cheap Charlie’s. Was greeted by Gerlie, my new favorite CC waitress, and I invited her to join me for a lady drink. Had a nice chat. She’s in her forties with three kids, but she carries herself well. Enjoyed bullshitting and sharing some laughs with her.

I even got to witness the rare break in the clouds. Alas, it didn’t last long.

Cheap Charlie’s had a decent crowd, considering the weather. Even some guy there with a bakla (ladyboy) “girlfriend.” I honestly have no issues with how someone chooses to identify. Pretend to be a woman if you want; just leave me out of it.

I did my nightcap at Alaska, and I was the only customer. Owner Jerry is still out of the country, and the vibe when he isn’t around is not as fun. Still, there were two attractive enough dancers on the stage, the beer was cold, and the music and service were good. No complaints.

And that was my day.

From Facebook memories: an old postcard from my girlfriend Gail. When’s the last time you’ve seen a postcard? Or someone writing in cursive?

That’s from August 1973. I lost touch with Gail over the years, but l learned from my younger brother that she died a couple of years ago. Oh, and I went by “Mark” (my middle name) back then.
There’s the front of the card if you are interested. That’s Clear Lake, California.
Just for the hell of it, I Googled my old address. That’s the apartment building I lived in when I first moved out of my parent’s house after high school.

I’ve moved on to October 2021 in the LTG archives. In this post, I talk about the existing drinking establishment varieties as a prelude to beginning a series of reviews of all the bars in Barretto. The first review was for Redz Pub at the Arizona Resort. Redz shut down for good several months ago, and Arizona will be closing its doors in two weeks. Lots of memories there, but times change.

Today’s YouTube video is based on my favorite short story by Ernest Hemingway, “A Clean Well-Lighted Place.” It’s only fifteen minutes long and worth the watch. Or read it here if you prefer. I first read it in one of my literature classes as a young man, and for some reason it really resonated with me. And now, all these years later, I’ve become a similar old man to the one depicted in the story. Funny how that works.

Today’s daily dose of humor:

Kevin Kim’s latest Substack post discusses the difference between American and British punctuation. We talk different too.
Just don’t call me late for dinner.
I see what you did there.

I’m not sure when we are going to catch a break in the weather. I’ll contemplate that over some cold beers later on and see if I can figure it out.

A change-up

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As I recall, Jesus turned water into beer. Or something like that.

Sometimes adapting to circumstances requires changing things up some.

The angry morning sky told me to keep my ass at home.

Well, since I know clouds can’t talk, I didn’t listen and proceeded to embark on a boring Barretto street walk. I got a thunderous response, but defended myself with my umbrella. Six kilometers later, I was back home, safe and sound.

Later on in the afternoon, I saw this out my window.

Fuck yeah! I’m going to Baloy Beach! Turns out it was a trap, but I broke out my trusty umbrella again and fended off most of the water projectiles falling from the sky.

My plan was to visit the Champs Sports Bar at Baywatch Beach Resort. I ran into Jim, who works for the new owner, outside reception. He apologized and said that Champs won’t open until NEXT Thursday. Oops, oh well. Next week then it is.

I walked on up the road to the Foxhole Resort, and my old pal Norman was tending bar. I inquired as to the availability of birria tacos, and he confirmed they had the ingredients. So, I placed my order. Norman disappeared for a few minutes, then returned and advised me that the chef who used to work at Myleen’s was off, but he called him at home, and he agreed to guide the cook who was working on the proper preparation of birria. That’s kinda going above and beyond, but I appreciated the effort.

I took a couple of bites before I remembered to take a photo. They were better than last time, but not as good as I remember Myleen’s used to be.

Swan had opted not to join me on yesterday’s adventure, so I ordered birria tacos for take-out for her. Her assessment was similar to mine: okay, but not as good as they used to be.

Foxhole didn’t have my new favorite beer, San Miguel Extra Light (XL), so after I schooled Norman on its existence, he promised to order some and have it available on my next visit. Norman mentioned that photos of me and him had been popping up in his Facebook memories, and today he sent me these:

We first met back when he worked at Mangos.
Then we reconnected during his brief tenure at Papagayo.
And here we are together again at the Fox Beach Resort last night.
It appears I was the best customer during my visit.
I took a peek outside and saw three ships taking refuge in the bay.
And more rain headed our way.

Since I was on my own, I decided to change things up and visit places I rarely go to these days. So, I hoofed it back to Barretto and got pretty soaked despite my umbrella when the wind turned things sideways. So, I took refuge at Gold Bar. I ordered an XL, but the waitress misunderstood what I asked for and brought me a San Mig Light instead. Oh, well. I did confirm that they had XL in stock.

Once again, no dancers and no customers. When I asked the waitress about the dancers, she just shrugged.

For my next stop, I crossed the highway and visited Adams Bar. It is relatively new, but the only time I’d ventured in, they didn’t have red wine for Swan, so we left. This time, they didn’t have XL, but I stayed anyway. I was the only customer. One of the bar girls greeted me by name, but she didn’t look familiar, so I asked, where do you know me from? She said she lives on the hill behind La Union Street and I’d given her kids cookies in the past. Um, I don’t say my name when I hand out sweets, but I didn’t pursue it. The next thing I know, she’s showing me her naked breasts! Honestly, that’s not my thing in public, and when I turned my back and ignored her, she put them away. Another girl started rubbing my shoulders, and I told her I was leaving after I finished my beer. She got the hint that no lady drinks were forthcoming, and they both left me alone. Suffice it to say, I didn’t enjoy the vibe in Adams, and I won’t be coming back.

My next stop was Lux Bar. They had three or four girls on the dance stage, and they stood up when I came in. Yep, once again, no other customers. I took a piss, came back, and asked the waitress for an XL beer. Sorry, we don’t have any. So I said, “Sorry, I’m leaving.” And I did. I heard later that Lux will be shutting down for good soon. Sorry to hear that, but that explains why they haven’t ordered any more beers.

It’s probably been a year or so since my last visit to Whiskey Girl, so I popped in. None of my old waitress friends are still working there, but Jenn, the bartender/cashier who used to work at my old haunt, Hideaway, came out to greet me. Yep, you guessed it: no other customers but me. At least Whiskey Girl had XL in stock. I bought Jenn a lady drink and watched the three dancers sway around on the stage. When they took a break, one of them came down and sat beside me uninvited. She told me she used to work at Arizona, and when I showed her that picture of my Korean girlfriend, Eun Oke, at the Arizona Score Bar, she claimed to remember her. Hmm, that was ten years ago. She was nice enough to chat with and had a sense of humor, so I wound up buying her a drink before I left.

I decided to make the Outback Billabong Bar my final stop on my bar hop. There were two guys there playing pool, and me. Even though I rarely visit here, I was greeted by name. I’ll never get used to how these ladies always remember names. Outback didn’t have XL beer either, so I chided the waitress, but accepted a Light instead. I only stayed for one beer, then headed for home.

It’s been a while since I’ve done a bar adventure like last night, and it was nice for a change. But the fact that all the bars were mostly empty was a sad reflection on the times. Maybe the rain kept people home. Wussies!

Speaking of change, it doesn’t appear the weather is going to change anytime soon, and I’m seeing red:

No break in the rain since last night, so here comes the floods again.

I’m guessing my water service won’t be restored until the river level drops, so I’m screwed for now. Despite the bad weather, I managed a pretty good day step-wise:

Hopefully that makes up for my lack of steps today.

Moving on in the September 2021 LTG archives, I ponder the question: is it better to give than receive? I don’t defend my “friends with benefits” program as charity, but note that I do other acts of giving with no expectations of anything in return. Of course, now that I’m in a relationship, I no longer engage in quid pro quo acts, but I’ve got other projects I support with my charity budget. So, I’m not a total asshole.

For today’s YouTube video, here’s another short comedy drama you might enjoy. For me, the best part of these is that the length suits my diminished attention span. And yes, I always put the grocery cart where it belongs when I’m done shopping.

You are welcome:

At least he got a bang out of it.
As they used to say back in Arkansas days, “Son, that dog won’t hunt.”
I’d be shocked if they did.

Yep, it doesn’t get much more lame than that. I’ll keep trying to do better.

On and on and on it goes

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As long as it satisfices…

As I live out this final chapter of my life, sometimes I need to take a step back and take time to reflect on the blessings that have been bestowed upon me rather than bitch and moan about the parts that are less than ideal. One thing I am thankful for is my overall good health. Yeah, I get the aches and pains that come with old age, but I’m no longer suffering from the breathing attacks that tormented me a couple of years ago. My blood pressure is the lowest it’s ever been (consistently in the 1-teens over low 70s). Once I complete my quest to lose the excess poundage, some of the other risk factors will be reduced as well. I see a lot of my fellow expats who can barely walk, so even my ability to do my easy hikes is something to be appreciated. Whatever the future may bring, I’m going to do my best to live in the moment and be grateful for all that I have.

Yesterday’s Wednesday Walkers group hike was special in its ordinariness. We did a mostly flat, mostly paved trek from the Subic Market to Waltermart, totaling almost 7K. We carried umbrellas, but miraculously never had to open them. The downpours resumed within an hour of our completion of the journey, so we were fortunate in that regard.

My companions on the journey, Scott, Steve, and Swan.
Passing through the Subic Marketplace.
Then over the river.
Looking downriver…
…and upriver.
Only made it to 46.
Walking through a riverside village.
At least the puddles here weren’t deep. We did have wet feet in our future, though.
Under a low bridge.
Glad that’s behind us.
Oh shit, another one!
Not exactly a golden pond.
The wet feet portion of the trail.
My favorite tree has weathered the storm so far and is still standing/leaning.
Passing through another village.
Back on solid ground.
A right turn towards Jesus.
On the back roads of Subic town.
So sad to see this lovely lady pass away so young.
A Filipina Hasher used to live here. It looks trashed now.
Goats waiting for the store to open?
Back on the National Highway.
A rose amongst the thorns. It takes some balls to live like this, surrounded by poverty.
Our journey is completed.

In other “news,” my housekeeper, Jane, has decided to pursue other opportunities. I wish her well in those endeavors. So, now I have a new employee:

That’s Swan’s sister, Cyrene, who will be keeping my house clean now. She and her three children have taken up residence in my basement apartment.

I’ve been impressed by her performance thus far. Here’s how she rearranged the clutter that used to occupy the top of my bedroom dresser:

I appreciate her taking the initiative to rearrange my mess.

So it rained almost all afternoon, but like magic, it let up at beer o’clock, and we made it into town without using our umbrellas.

On the way, we passed by the soon-to-open Voodoo Bar. Good luck with that. The signage is nice, though.
Our first stop was at Red Bar, one of the few in town that seems to be consistently busy.

It wasn’t long after we arrived that the latest deluge commenced:

As you can see, it chased away most of the patrons on the patio.
And it didn’t take long for the highway runoff to invade our space.

We finished the evening at Rum Jungle and Wet Spot. And another wet day came to an end.

Oh, and I may have been a tad overoptimistic about how San Miguel XL would help me sleep through the night.

It didn’t work last night anyway.

Sad news from Dumaguete:

This happened on another island, but it is a good reminder that things can go south when you least expect it.

In the September 2021 LTG archives, I recount a couple more occasions where I invited women to join my “friends with benefits” program. Honestly, looking back on those days now, I feel embarrassed by my behavior. But as I explain in the post, it was a defensive mechanism to the almost constant onslaught of money requests from women in need. So, my rationale was that both of us have needs; let’s make a mutually beneficial arrangement. I did come to find these kinds of transactional relationships to be unfulfilling, and I’m not proud of that phase I went through. Still, it’s part of The Story of My Life”, good and bad.

Today’s YouTube video is from an expat vlogger talking about his experience with this unprecedented rainy season. I’ve been here going on nine years now, and it is the worst I’ve seen. These past couple of days have been more “normal”–still lots of hard rain showers, but with periodic breaks in the storm. At least that way the flooding is greatly reduced.

How about these:

I do get a lot of “Hi, Joe” callouts on my hikes.
I wonder if he is comma-tose like me.
I never noticed that before.

And now I’ve gone and done it once again. Time to get out and make the best of whatever time I have left. Thanks for reading as I make my way through this journey of life.

Watered down

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Fuck you, Facebook!

Nothing much to say about my yesterday. We had our driver pick up our freshly showered bodies at the Anbon Hotel and headed into the city for grocery shopping. Stopped by the BPI ATM to withdraw some cash, and my card was rejected. There was a “fraud alert” email from my credit union when I got home, saying the withdrawal was suspicious activity and I needed to contact them to unblock my account. This is the second time they’ve done this in the past month, and it is getting old. I sent a message telling them it was a legit transaction, but so far, no response. It’s a good thing I’ve found an alternate way to transfer funds from my account using Wise. Anyway, that was about as exciting as things got around here.

Still no running water in our subdivision. So, we are flushing toilets and washing with water in buckets.

And this water truck comes by periodically to refill our buckets.
Our replenished water supply.
Bathing and flushing the old-fashioned way.

No idea how long this water outage will last. The water company posted this today:

Seems weird they can’t say when a broken pipe will be repaired. When this happened last year, it took almost two weeks.
Why in the fuck would you lay a water pipe over the river like that anyway?

Meanwhile, there is still plenty of water falling down from the skies. At least it is coming in intermittent showers now, which is helping to reduce the flood issues.

But keeping things in perspective, my complaints are minor comparatively speaking.

We caught a break in the rain when we made our trek into town at beer o’clock. We kicked off our evening at Sloppy Joe’s. Swan saw a gal she knows walking by and invited her in to join us. She used to work on the Arizona floating bar, which is long gone now, but she will be starting to work for the new owner of Champs Sports Bar on Baloy Beach soon. The owner is the same guy who has recently purchased several other bars in town. So, by my count, he now has Whiskey Girl, Crazy Horse, Tryst, Barcelona, Champs, and the soon-to-be reopened Voodoo Bar and General MacArthur’s Bar. That’s more bars than customers in most bars. But if you have more money than sense, why not? It’s been said that the easiest way to become a millionaire in the Philippines is to start with two million. Still, I wish him well. Weather permitting, I may venture out to Baloy tomorrow to see what Champs is like under new management.

We shared a pulled pork sandwich and chicken quesadillas from the Sloppy Joe’s kitchen. I liked the quesadilla best. I also downed six San Miguel Extra Lights (XLs). They go down smooth and easy, and at only 3% alcohol, I wasn’t even buzzed.

And we weren’t done yet. We headed down the road to Queen Victoria for our nightcap. Alas, they were out of the red wine Swan prefers, so she had a Mai Tai cocktail instead. I mentioned to manager Jake that he needed to restock, and he disappeared. Came back about 30 minutes later and said he’d gone to two different markets and couldn’t find any. Wow. It wasn’t my intent for him to do that, but that’s the kind of manager he is. And he wasn’t done yet; he sent his bartender out to another local market to continue the quest for a bottle of wine. Impressive!

I’m, of course, drinking more XL. On Tuesday night, Queen Vic has a “buy two, get one free” deal. When I’d finished my free third beer, Swan still wasn’t done with her first drink, so I ordered another. Then another. And that earned me my second free beer. As crazy as it sounds, I still wasn’t drunk. But I didn’t push my luck and called it a night. Always a good time chatting with Jake and enjoying the Queen Victoria ambiance.

I’ve also noticed that when I’m drinking XLs, I stay out a little later than I usually do. I can only empty a bottle so fast after all. Oddly enough, the residual impact seems to be that I’m sleeping better.

Later to bed, later to rise, but without those long sleep gaps during the night I’d grown accustomed to. My sleep score of 85 was the highest I’ve seen since I began monitoring.

Well, I’m going to have to continue to assess the positive aspects of drinking XL. I’ll let you know how that works out.

From Facebook memories on this day in my history:

Ten years ago, I brought my Korean girlfriend with me on a visit to Barretto. The Filipina bar girls really took a liking to her, and she responded with a generous outpouring of lady drinks. It was fun while it lasted.

From the September 2021 LTG archives, a typical day-in-the-life, including a hike and a barhop. It stands out for me because things I took for granted are no more, like enjoying a chat with the now-deceased Dave Fischer and getting my weekly fix of Korean chicken wings courtesy of John Kim’s The Pub, both of which no longer exist. Life goes on until it doesn’t.

Today’s YouTube is something a little different: why it sucks to be born a Filipino. I think maybe the biggest difference between being born poor here versus in first-world countries is that there are fewer opportunities to escape poverty. I wonder how Dolly Parton would have fared had she been born a Filipina.

Humor time:

Hang up the phone and lose my number,,,
It must have been a monster bill.
Yogi was smarter than the average Berra.

And that’s all I’ve got for today. It’s pouring down rain again, but beer o’clock will not be denied!

Hashing on

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Welcome to the BER months…may your bells be jingled!

Jesus must love Hashers, because when it was time for the Hash to begin yesterday, the rain miraculously stopped and didn’t begin again until all the Hashers were safely back to the On-Home venue at It Doesn’t Matter. I was also surprised that we had a larger turnout than I expected given the foul weather we have been experiencing. Fifteen or so brave souls did the trail, and over thirty showed up for the Hash Circle. I was happy that all the feedback I received about the trail was positive. Even those die-hard Hashers like Leech My Nuggets said they enjoyed the hike. Several others said they were pleasantly surprised that a notorious shortcutter like me had laid such a challenging course (two hill climbs). The ribbon markings proved easy to follow and no one got lost. So, I felt good about doing my part for a successful Hash run.

Providing some guidance before sending the Hashers on their way (another group had left earlier).

We had checked into a room for our overnight stay at the Anbon Hotel. It’s pretty much a shithole, but it facilitated our need to shower, plus it is right across the street from It Doesn’t Matter, so it was a convenient venue to stumble back to after the Hash (we stayed overnight knowing we’d want to shower again this morning). After the Hashers departed, we walked around the corner to Sit-n-Bull and shared a roast beef dip sandwich. Swan went back to the room for a nap, and I went to IDM to welcome the returning Hashers. I was not surprised to see Fast And Loose (a marathoner) finish the 6K trail in just under an hour.

There be a God’s-eye view of yesterday’s Hash trail.
Leech My Nuggets finished third and set about his duties as the Hash Cash guru.
After the trail liquid refreshment time.
A gathering of Hash Gash.
The ice delivery.
Hares on the ice.
It’s nice on ice!
Deflowering a virgin Hasher.
Fat Bastard was this week’s Hashit recipient.
The AI rendering in recognition of achieving the Hashit. Good work, Pubic Head!
A larger-than-usual gathering for the after-Hash at It Doesn’t Matter.
Ain’t they sweet?

It was quite a party at the after-Hash. A couple of Hashers bought rounds of shots for everyone, and then the bar owner reciprocated. Since we were sleeping across the street, we stayed later than usual. Hold onto your hats, I didn’t crawl into bed until a little after 10 p.m. It’s nice to go a little wild sometimes.

From the Facebook memories:

The view from my Gireum-dong apartment fifteen years ago. One life ends, another begins.

It’s September 11 in the 2021 LTG archives, and I pay tribute to the heroes on the 20th anniversary of that horrific terrorist attack. I was working in downtown D.C. that morning, and obviously, it’s a day I’ll never forget. It changed me and my outlook on the world (I’d always voted for Democrats before then). It also put me on the road that eventually led to my employment with the US Army in Korea. Another life-changing event.

Today’s YouTube video explores the reasons the Philippines remains a poor country. I’m not sure you can really fault the Spanish and the Americans. Graft and corruption seem to come naturally to the powerful elite here. I can attest from personal observation that the common folk here may be poor, but they are far from lazy.

Time for a humor break:

Practice, practice, practice!
I’m sure they’ll arrive before this conversation ends.
A crowning moment of futility.

And that’s the way the day went down. It’s been raining off and on today, but nothing like the shit storms we’ve been through these past few weeks. Of course, there’s a typhoon projected to arrive here on Thursday, so hang onto your hats.

Wet Hares

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(L-R) Gangster Bitch, Dripping Pussy, BF’s Wet Spot, Cums Alone, and Cum Together.

It’s still getting wetter outside, and I suspect only the ribbons remain on the trail we marked yesterday. Probably only the hardcore group will want to Hash in this weather, and they will no doubt be able to find their way on the familiar paths we’ve laid out. I’ll brief them at the start and leave the rest up to them. If anyone wants to shortcut, I’ll lead them on an easier route. That’s the best I can do.

Here are some photos I took as we laid the trail yesterday:

Halfway up the first hill.
Hares hard at work.
A rainy day month in Barretto.
I have no doubt that all the powder we poured yesterday is long gone now.
What goes up, must come down.
Tying the ribbon that will likely be the only surviving trail marker.
Taking a powder was a waste of time and effort. Oh well.
A cow and a mountain.
Oh shit.
No way around it, wet feet it is.
A quick hello to mountain mama Onelia.
Through the tall grass.
More ships are anchored in the bay than I’ve seen for a while. I assume they are taking shelter from the storm.
The final stretch.
Steppin’ on down those slimy steps.
Our trail came out right at 6 kilometers in length.

So, it was a wet day for the Hares, but we made it through the two climbs and two descents without anyone falling down despite the muddy conditions. Hopefully, the Hashers today will have similar good fortune.

Enjoying some post-trail lunch at the On-Home venue, It Doesn’t Matter.
The forecast isn’t cause for optimism.

So, after losing our water access, we went into town to book a room. Anbon Hotel had rooms with water heaters for 1500 pesos a night. They also had rooms available on an hourly basis. Hmm, why would a hotel in the middle of the whore bar district offer short-time rooms? Oh, never mind. We paid 400 pesos for two hours, showered up, and headed out for our Sunday routine destinations.

Red Bar was the first stop, and we enjoyed our usual good time on the patio. Had some grub delivered from Foodies, bought some lady drinks, chatted with managers Cliff and Ashley, and I connected to the Bluetooth and played some of my favorite tunes.

Our Sunday nightcap is traditionally at Jumpin’ Jacks.

Except it ain’t Jumpin’ Jacks no more.

More than the name has changed. Only a few of the regular gals were there; the pool table has moved to the far side of the bar, and the mood of the place is definitely in transition. Instead of music videos on the big-screen TVs, we were presented with women wearing tape. Like this:

The music that accompanies the gals strutting their near-naked stuff isn’t the classic rock that made this bar one of my favorites. A dance stage in the bar will be the next addition, and I saw an advertisement that Red Square Bar is looking for waitresses and GROs. Yep, it’s going to be one of THOSE bars. Hey, it’s none of my business what they choose to do, but I’ll likely be taking my business elsewhere. Oh yeah, the gals that were there last night said they’d be leaving because they don’t want to work in a place that has barfines (take out the gals for a price: i.e., prostitution).

Swan was meeting some family and friends for an event at the disco upstairs from Snackbar. I walked with her to the downstairs bar, but had no desire to join in the fun upstairs. So, we said goodnight, and I headed home. When I woke this morning, she was next to me, so it’s all good.

The most steps I’ve managed to get in all month, so there’s that.

And now it is September 2021 in the LTG archives. In this post, I recount meeting a new gal on our Wednesday hike named Paula. I predict a heartbreak in my future.

For today’s YouTube video, here’s the Filipina Pea surveying the type of foreigner Filipinas find attractive. I asked a Filipina once what had attracted her to me. She smiled and said, “That bulge in your pants.” I proudly looked down at my crotch, and she said, no, not that, and pointed at my wallet. And so it goes.

Let’s get these out of the way:

Don’t judge a boob by its cover.
This hits a little too close to home.
At least she died happy.

Okay, welp, time to prepare for whatever this wet Hash day may hold in store. We are going to book an overnight room at Anbon Hotel this afternoon. It’s right across the street from It Doesn’t Matter, so we can clean up after the Hash and start the day tomorrow with a shower. You gotta do what you gotta do.

Ghost town Saturday night

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Worse than I thought.

Anyway, I’m running late, so gonna make this post a quick one. I spent the morning out marking tomorrow’s Hash trail, but I expect the intermittent rain showers have erased most of that work. We also marked with ribbons, and they are waterproof, so hopefully the Hashers who brave the trail will find their way. After being homebound for the past two days, it felt good getting some hiking in again.

When I headed into town for the beer o’clock activities, I was craving some fish and chips, so I started off at the Outback. I was a little disappointed that mahi-mahi fish wasn’t available (the waitress blamed it on the weather), so I settled for dory fish.

It wasn’t bad.

I figured I’d hit Queen Victoria after eating because it is right across the highway from Outback.

Queen Victoria as seen from my seat at Outback. Yep, still raining.

And then I got a message from Queen Vic manager Jake with this attachment:

Hmm, closing on a Saturday night?

Oh, well. We figured we’d go to Gold Bar instead. Gold Bar opens at 2 p.m., but when we arrived just before 5, the manager was just unlocking the door. He told us he’d been trapped in Olongapo due to road closures. No one else was there, and we declined his offer to serve us and moved on down the highway. It was weird not seeing anyone out and about, and with the exception of Thumbstar, the other bars we passed were also closed. Rum Jungle normally opens at 4 p.m., but the door was locked. Wet Spot isn’t supposed to open until 6, but we could hear the music, so we went inside. It was then that we learned that because so many of the staff couldn’t make it to work due to flooding, only one of the bars was operating. Alright, then. Let’s drink!

Not on the scale of Nepal, but I’ve never seen anything like this during my time in the Philippines.

Sit-n-Bull was also closed, and so was Cheap Charlies. We wound up going next door to Sloppy Joe’s to finish off our evening out. This too shall pass. Hopefully soon.

Oh, shit. I just found out that we have no water. Apparently, the pipeline has been damaged by the overflowing river. Last time that happened, it took two weeks to be restored. Ai yi yi. Looks like I’ll be booking a hotel room so I can take a shower.

From Facebook memories, back in 2015, I received an unexpected windfall in the mail:

I must have blown it all on beer.

From the August 2021 LTG archives, there was a celebration taking place for the grand opening of a new business I sponsored, and also my 66th birthday. The business failed after just a few months, but I’m still getting older.

Today’s YouTube video is a short (6-minute) award-winning British comedy called “Two Minutes.” I watched it but never saw the humor. Please tell me what I missed:

Well, I get the joke in these:

I didn’t say they’d be funny, though.
That’s not weak humor; it’s painful.
There’s more of me to love!

Ouch. Well, time to pack a bag and find a room. What a pain in the ass.

Relentless

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I wish there were a way to find out what would have happened if you had chosen differently.

As bad as the weather has been for the past few weeks, yesterday might have been the worst day overall. Heavy wind-blown downpours that were, for the most part, unrelenting. And as bad as yesterday was, so far today has been worse. All the long-time expats I’ve talked with agree this has been one of the roughest rainy seasons they’ve seen.

The river that runs past my house is as high as I’ve ever seen it. A half click downstream, it is going over the highway bridge.

At least I’m above it all here in Alta Vista. Lots of other folks are dealing with flood waters inside their houses.

Throughout the day, I confined myself to quarters, but I’ll be damned if I’m going to be a prisoner under house arrest when it’s time to enjoy beer o’clock. We did an umbrella walk through the deserted streets of Barretto and, for the most part, were able to avoid the ponds that had formed on the uneven roadways.

We decided to hit Cheap Charlies first and take advantage of the Foodies dining option. We were the only customers, and so we fed the six bored gals working some fried chicken and pancit. I shared an order of chicken quesadillas with Swan. As we were eating, the skies opened up, and torrents of wind-blown rain forced us to retreat to the bar seating.

Usually I’m looking out at the street, but watching the music videos wasn’t bad.

As the storm outside continued raging, we stayed longer than we normally would. Once the rain lightened up a bit, we headed downstairs and discovered the streets were flooded.

The option to the left…
…and the option to the right. It was shallower that way, at least.

So, we made it as far as Annex Bar without getting too wet and popped in. They actually had a few customers. A couple more XLs, and the flood waters had receded, so we crossed the highway and had a nightcap at It Doesn’t Matter. Then we headed home in a trike and made it without incident.

Another day stuck at home, and I’m worried about the difficulty I may encounter tomorrow when I try to finish scouting and marking the Hash trail. If it keeps raining like this, chalk and powder are going to be useless. We shall see.

So, all the bars are now stocking the new brew, San Miguel Extra Light, aka XL.

See you soon!

And also in the good news department, I haven’t had to deal with tampo lately.

Tampo usually only lasts a couple of days. Oh, and I looked up “tambing” so you don’t have to: Lambing in Tagalog refers to a show of affection, tenderness, or fondness towards someone, often expressed through actions like caresses or embraces. It can also mean to show care or love, especially in relationships.

Facebook is burning up with photos and videos of local flooding.

How long until the ark gets built? It’s been about 30 straight days of rain now.

I was just thinking, at least the power hasn’t gone out. Oops! It just did. Fuck.

Continuing the journey through the August 2021 LTG archives, I got bit by the love bug again. And just a few days later, I got a brutal reminder that love is just a four-letter word. Well, at least I tried. And no money changed hands, nor was there physical consummation of the “relationship”. Maybe that’s progress.

At least I tried to love again.
I finally got lucky with Swan.

Changing it up a tad for today’s YouTube video with a little WWII history. Japan knew they couldn’t win a war with us, but they started one anyway. Here’s why:

Yep, here we go again:

At least that ride lasts longer than the other one.
I hope they brought along some lube.
Yeah, I’ve noticed it takes longer to catch a buzz with the XL beer.

That’s all I’ve got. Man, oh man, I hope we catch a break in the weather soon. But yeah, I’ll be escaping the house again later today regardless.

Hmm, the future is not looking bright.

Oh, well. I’ve got nothing but time on my hands.

Another circle on the carousel of life

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Swan put this collage together in celebration of my 71st birthday (she thought I was turning 72).

Apologies in advance, but today’s post is more about “me, me, me” than usual. Hey, it was the anniversary of the day I was born, so what else is there to talk about? Well, I have no great insights or epiphanies to report, but the older I get, the more I appreciate this blessing we call life. I did recall that I had been planning to kill myself for my 19th birthday with a drug overdose (I was depressed over the breakup with my girlfriend), when some friends came by unexpectedly for a surprise party, and by the end of the evening I had changed my mind and decided to choose life. One year later, I became a father, and the rest is history. I’m glad I stuck around to experience these past fifty years. What a ride it has been, and it ain’t over yet!

And the seasons they go round and round
And the painted ponies go up and down
We're captive on the carousel of time
We can't return we can only look
Behind from where we came
And go round and round and round
In the circle game

Here is some of how I celebrated my birthday:

My gifts included three new t-shirts:

A legend in my own mind anyway.
It even has my name on the back!

The second shirt:

And even on those three days, I only drink on two occasions: when I’m alone or when I’m with someone.

And the third shirt:

Front side…
…and backside. Of course, I’m retired, and every day is Friday now.

I also got the coolest birthday card I’ve ever seen:

It lights up and plays a happy birthday song.

So, I decided to have my birthday meal at my favorite restaurant, Texas Joe’s on SBMA. That required a Jeepney ride and a longish walk on a rainy day, but hey, I’m worth it.

We made it!
The food and ambiance here are great.
I couldn’t resist the half-rack of baby back ribs, even if they did set me back 1060 pesos ($17.)
Swan had the “chopped” pork (the menu says pulling the pork makes it lose flavor). It was tasty too.

Then I was surprised when the waitresses brought a brownie à la mode with a candle to the table and sang me a happy birthday song (you can see it in the short video posted up top).

Then we hopped on our horses and headed back to Barretto. Actually, we took a taxi.

We got dropped off at Red Bar and began the beer portion of the birthday celebration there. I got a kick out of what the waitresses call my new favorite beer, San Miguel Extra Light: “Would you like an XL, sir John?” Why yes, yes I would!

Scott messaged asking where we were, and then came and joined us for a bit at Red Bar. He’s also a fan of the new XL brew.

When we were ready for a change of scenery, Swan and I moved on to Rum Jungle. I was happy to see that they were also serving XL, although our waitress hadn’t thought to call it that. I even got gifted a free one for my birthday! Then we finished our night out at Wet Spot.

Jack, Scott, and Jim came to Wet Spot, and the party was on! Jim bought a round of whiskey shots, but luckily we stopped at one each.

I even stayed out after 8 pm for the first time in a long time. But all good things must come to an end, and we still made it home by 9. It was definitely the best birthday I’ve had this year!

I hope you’ll indulge my vanity as I take a stroll through the years:

1957 with my older brother Keith Randall and baby brother Gregory Lee. Damn, I couldn’t believe how hot that photographer was!
1960, and we are out roughing it in the desert with my dad’s Jeep pickup truck.
1970, escorting my grandmother at brother Keith’s wedding.
1973, a senior at Westminster High School.
1974, camping out in Southern California.
1976, taking care of business.
1978, with my kids and first wife in Prescott, Arizona.
1979, spending some time with JRR Tolkien.
1982, visiting the love of my life in Pocatello, Idaho, before she broke my heart.
1985, the first time I turned 30.
1987, my first assignment as a Human Resources Director in Roanoke, Virginia.
2004: Exploring Turkish culture in Istanbul.
2008, Director, Human Resources Management, 8th US Army, Seoul, Korea.
2012, retired and living in Columbia, South Carolina. Who knew I was God’s gift to women?
2013: smoking and drinking.
2014, another drunken night in Itaewon.
2015, a fat and happy darter.
2017, reemployed in my old job with 8th Army.
2018, the last time I saw my kids.
2019, enjoying the retired life in the Philippines.
2020: a Hashy birthday.
2025, my walkaholic life.
What a long, strange trip it’s been.

Alrighty, I reckon that dead horse has been beaten enough.

Onward in the August 2021 LTG archives with a post about an encounter with Julica during one of our Wednesday Walkers group hikes. Julica was one of the first gals I crushed on when I moved to the Philippines. I dodged a bullet, but she lost an opportunity.

For today’s YouTube video, let’s take a quick tour of Luzon, the beautiful island in the Philippines where I reside. I’ve not been to all of these places yet, but I like what I’ve seen so far.

Laugh or not, here they come:

Maybe his advice was don’t take my advice.
He probably is too.
Well, as long as the beer is cold and there are no strings attached…

Again, I apologize for the torturous selfishness of this post. Then again, y’all must be used to that by now. Let’s see what tomorrow brings.

I’ll leave you with some of my favorite birthday songs:

Thirty again

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It was 41 years ago when I turned 30 for the first time.

Today is my birthday, but we’ll talk about that tomorrow. Assuming I live that long. Still dealing with wet weather, but it is less intense now and more typical of what you expect during rainy season. So there’s that. The Wednesday Walkers convened and set about undertaking a 6K street walk. Here is some of what we saw along the way:

And away we go from our meet-up at the Baloy 7-Eleven.
Our umbrellas had many ups and downs along the way.
We opted to walk through the Santa Monica subdivision despite its notoriety for flooding.
We passed by our buddy Chris’ house, and he came out to say hello.
Then we encountered what Santa Monica is famous for.
Tried another street, and it was worse.
So we settled on this one. At least the water wasn’t deep.
A view I liked.
On zoom, you can see Alta Vista in the clouds.
Just the way a carabao likes it.
We passed by our pal Chris’ new place (wow, two different guys named Chris in one day. What are the odds?)
My Easter Mountain shot.
Doing the road work.
Over the bridge…
And done.

We kicked off the birthday-eve celebration at Harley’s on Baloy. They had my new favorite San Mig Extra Light in stock, so I was off to a good start. Next up was Mango’s for our traditional grilled pork chop dinner. They hadn’t heard about Extra, but now they have. Hopefully it will be in the fridge on our next visit.

A stormy high tide left this mess behind.

I messaged the Jumpin’ Jacks manager to ask about the rumors of the bar’s demise. She responded that a new management team was taking over, but she had not been informed whether she and the current staff would be retained. I asked if they were going to be open tonight, and she said that they were. So, I said we’d come by later.

We popped into the seldom-visited Annex Bar on our way to Jumpin’ Jacks. Hasher Fast And Loose is the bartender there. And by golly, they had some cold Extra waiting to be enjoyed. Looks like I’m gonna have plenty of venue options for drinking extra lightly.

We both enjoyed our brief visit to the Annex. Honestly, the reason we don’t come here more often is that it is almost always too full to get the street-view seats we like. I guess the rain is good for something.

On to Jumpin’ Jacks for our nightcap. And yes, my manager friend had secured the San Mig Extra I had requested on Sunday. Woo-hoo! So, we had our usual good time soaking up the ambiance and enjoying the always nice music. Hopefully, not for the last time. The former manager at Thumbstar is going to be taking over, and Jumpin’ Jacks will be renamed Red Square. The perfectly fine current interior will be remodeled to accommodate a stage for dancers. Yeah, just what we need in Barretto. Anyway, I passed on my advice that they keep the current music playlists and let the dancers move to that. I fear the current good vibe is doomed, but if the bar isn’t currently making money, I understand the effort to draw more customers. Good luck with that.

And that was the way I spent the last day of my 70th year.

Maybe I’ll still be alive in 2028 to witness this:

The Vance-Rubio ticket can’t compete with that!

And here’s a memory from my racist past:

That’s me and Donna, my Deputy during my 8th Army days. She was the best I ever worked with, and I’m proud to call her a friend.

Moving on to August 2021 in the LTG archives, where I share a post about what passes as a bad day in the Philippines. Yeah, I bitch and moan about minor medical-related frustrations, but compared to what the locals deal with every day, I’ve got nothing to complain about. Oh, and my “friend with benefits” Joy crossed a line, and I terminated the relationship. Looking back, perhaps I was overly harsh, but then again, at least I’d learned to apply Rule #1 (don’t be a sucker).

Today’s YouTube video offers a brief history of Luzon Island. And by brief, I mean less than four minutes. That suits my ever-decreasing attention span.

These never get old:

Whose tits are bigger?
Pump it up!
I had a hole in my pocket once. I didn’t feel crazy, but I did feel nuts.

Last year I had the biggest birthday bash of my life, thanks to Swan. This year is going to be a lot more laid-back. So laid-back, I’m not sure what I’ll do to celebrate as yet. I’ve got a pretty good hunch beer will be involved, though. Hopefully Extra!

Thanks for this, Scott!

“Age has no reality except in the physical world. The essence of a human being is resistant to the passage of time. Our inner lives are eternal, which is to say that our spirits remain as youthful and vigorous as when we were in full bloom. Think of love as a state of grace, not the means to anything, but the alpha and omega. An end in itself.”

― Gabriel García Márquez, Love in the Time of Cholera

I always love seeing those other 70s I lived through.

Hung out to dry

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Yes, let me have a do-over life!

In the meantime, this life goes on until it doesn’t. I have a birthday coming up tomorrow (number 71), and my driver gifted me this ballcap:

Thank you, Bong.

Got the shopping done, then stopped by to see Dr. Jo for my weekly injection. I gained a pound last week. Damn it. The rain continues, but at least now there are occasional breaks between the downpours.

The laundry ain’t gonna dry outside these days, so now it is hung IN to dry.

When beer o’clock rolled around, we broke out the umbrellas and made our way to It Doesn’t Matter.

IDM is one of the two bars (that I know of) selling the new San Miguel Extra Light.
I’m on a diet after all…
Hanging out at the gals’ table. I didn’t understand a word they were saying, but the music was good (Pink Floyd and Led Zeppelin).

For our nightcap, we moseyed to the other side of town and paid a visit to Queen Victoria. Bought a couple of shawarmas at the place that used to be Myleen’s and took them with us. Queen Vic’s bartender hadn’t heard about that new beer in town, so I sent a photo to manager Jake, and he promised to order some.

Always enjoy the vibe at Queen Vic.

A nice chat with Jake as usual. He even laughs at my jokes. He said the rain isn’t helping business, but they were doing quite a bit better than a lot of bars in town and at least breaking even. We both expect there will be a shakeout coming soon because most owners can’t afford to keep losing money month after month.

Speaking of which, Arizona Resort announced that it is closing for good next month, and everything is for sale. Sad news. I used to stay there as a tourist and always had a good time at the Score Bar. When I first moved here, I’d regularly visit Arizona for meals. And of course, the floating bar. All that’s gone now, except for the memories. Well, it did go to shit after ownership changed, and the new owner didn’t do the hands-on management required. And so it goes.

Coincidentally, Scott posted this 2008 photo from the Score Bar at Arizona. That’s around the time I first visited as a tourist. A couple of those gals are still around town in different bars.

This morning there was a post on Facebook saying that the Viking Resort on Baloy was shutting down. I also heard a rumor that Jumpin’ Jacks has been sold and the new owner is going to convert it into a dancing bar. Looks like a change in my Sunday routine is on the horizon.

One of my charity projects is in support of an acquaintance (I only knew her as a waitress at Sit-n-Bull) who is undergoing cancer treatment in Manila. I basically provide her rent and food money each month. She is unable to afford a private hospital, and the public hospitals here in the PI are a nightmare. I didn’t realize just how bad they actually are until she started sharing some of the gruesome details. She was recently “hospitalized” in the emergency ward with about a hundred other people suffering various illnesses and injuries. There were no beds available, so she spent two days confined to a wheelchair in the ward. The chemo and cancer are bad enough, but to be tortured on top of it is unimaginable. And the worst part is nobody cares about the patients. Hold on to your hats while I share what she sent me yesterday:

Oh Lord, I’m not comfortable here in Emergency. There is no available ward room full of patients,even if here in Emergency room,too many patients,and you can’t believe we only use wheelchairs- no beds- we can’t sleep here

It’s a public hospital. What to expect: every hour, too many patients coming, and we are here again- too many patients again this morning, and we are like sardines in a can.

Didn’t I just donate blood, we were in the emergency room for several days without a bed, we were just in a wheelchair, patients were packed together, different illnesses, and you get even sicker because of the number of patients, now the doctor has discharged me but, I was expecting that the gynecologist would check on me, just to tell me that I should get treatment from them, but the thing is, the gynecologist doesn’t care about me, the urology just a simple change of catheter.

So many are dying there every day, my God, you really can’t help but say, Life is really short, I felt even weaker there in the hospital, not much sleep, how can you sleep, I’m in a wheelchair, and there are so many people crowded together when I left the hospital today, I suddenly had a fever, there are so many patients every day, because of leptospirosis.

I have a story: instead of helping me, I hear them laughing at me, disgusted, because of the smell of my lump. One doctor said, what kind of illness does she have that his lump smells like that, then another doctor said, he’s just waiting for me to die; that’s how I understood it. Then my fellow patients are really disgusted by my smell because of the lump.

Almost all doctors treat it that way. I thought they would understand my situation, but they didn’t. I really need to undergo chemo again to get rid of the smell of my lump, and it also shrinks when I undergo chemo.

The experience I went through in the emergency room when I was confined, the mockery, the judgment of my illness by the people there, even the doctors, nurses, and the patients, made me question myself if I really wanted this.

Yesterday, when the catheter was changed, a lot of blood came out, and it took a long time before the catheter was replaced. Big round clots of blood came out; that’s why my lower abdomen was so painful. After the blood came out, my lower abdomen pain also disappeared. It was so painful during the insertion; I was screaming because, aside from being stinging, it was really painful. I just cried and cried yesterday, and then there was a terrible smell coming out; so many people were disgusted with me because there were foul-smelling leaks.

I feel so tired right now, I’m swollen because I’ve been sitting all day and night, I’ve been confined in the hospital for several days and I’m getting sicker, especially with so many patients crowded together, I was happy earlier when they said they would release me now, I said thank you, I will schedule chemo tomorrow, to get rid of the smell and shrink my lump, we will fight, even with a lot of judgment and disgust towards me, God is always good.

I will fight, while alive there is hope, while there is hope, no one will give up.

If I could afford to, I’d help her get treated at a private hospital, but sadly that is beyond my means. She’s a good woman who deserves better, but this is what the average Filipino can expect from public healthcare. It’s tragic.

Plodding on through the July 2021 LTG archives, and I’ve had an interesting first date with a gal I call Jane. What’s different is that she initiated contact and isn’t looking for money. Is it possible that there is someone out there who likes me for who I am? Hmm. We shall see.

For today’s YouTube video, I just picked one because it is short and I’m pressed for time. It did bring back memories from my tourist days when I made some of these mistakes. And as mentioned, it wound up costing me stolen money. One thing I was surprised they didn’t mention is that the women are not always women. Yep, a girl with something extra. That only happened once to me, but I managed to escape with my virginity intact. Live and learn.

Let’s get these out of the way:

True that.
And that slinky in the middle makes me wonder what it is hiding. If she says, “Let’s get something straight between us,” run Forrest, run!
Maybe she will taste better than the gravy.

So, that’s my story, and I’m sticking with it. I’ll be older but no wiser when I post here tomorrow.

I was very sad to hear that Dolly Parton has now departed from life. An amazing woman. Thanks for all you gave us.

No shame in not trying

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Or as I’ve been known to say, “Forget the past, it’s history. Forget the future, it’s a mystery. Forget the present, I didn’t get you one.”

I have lived in the states of California, Arizona, Arkansas, Oklahoma, South Carolina, and Virginia. And now it seems I’m living in the state of Calamity.

It appears that there is no end in sight for the current onslaught of wet weather.

I guess if the government can’t stop the rain, there’s nothing I can do but adapt as best as I am able. At the appointed time to start yesterday’s Hash run, it was pouring down hard, but I didn’t let that stop me. Well, my desire for self-preservation precluded me from doing Hare’s Hash trail up to Kalaklan Ridge, but I did my own flat 4K walk to the On-Home at Johansson’s. Only five Hashers showed up at the start to do Leech My Nuggets’ trail, and they all survived the wet ordeal. Good on them!

The trail I didn’t do.
And the one I did do. Yeah, I’ve gotten to be a pussy in my old age. But maybe that’s why I’ve achieved old age.
Umbrellas don’t keep your feet dry.
There is no escape.
Up to my ankles was as deep as it got.
Arriving safely at Johansson’s. Those tubes are attached to the pump that is clearing the flooded interior.
The bar area has a roof.
But not the area behind the bar. That’s where we hold the Hash Circle.
I found a refuge where I could stay mostly dry.
It’s nice on ice!
We joined the “leavers” (people who won’t be attending next week’s Hash) on the ice. And then the Grand Master remembered that we are the upcoming Hash Hares. It was good for a laugh. Damn, I can’t believe how gray my hair is getting. But at least I still have some hair.
Semen Extinguisher received the Hashit this week.
And he was gifted an AI rendering by Pubic Head.
The usual after-Hash gathering at It Doesn’t Matter, which will also be our On-Home venue next week.

Upon arrival at It Doesn’t Matter, I purchased a beer card as usual (pay for five beers, get the sixth beer free). As I was enjoying my first San Mig Light beer, the owner, Luna, brought out the new Extra Light beer. I got excited until she said the beer card can’t be used for Extra Light because it costs 100 pesos a bottle, versus the 90 pesos for other beers. Well, the beer card says it is good for local beers, but I’m not going to argue with the boss lady. I did call her Miss Tick. (Get it? Luna Tick.)

And that’s the story of our rainy Hash Monday. I fear it is going to be wet next week too. Oh well, a Hare’s gotta do what a Hare’s gotta do.

A commenter mentioned noticing I’ve been more active in deleting bullshit from the comments. Yes, I have. If a comment is not related to the post or otherwise relevant, out it goes. That doesn’t happen as often as the flat out personal attacks on you humble correspondent. Like this one I deleted today:

I assume you just delete my comments because I am black. You think we proud African-Americans don’t deserve a voice? After all you people did to us? You’re nuthin but a bigoted cracker! Eat shit racist.

Well, unless I’ve met you in person, I have no idea of your race, and I wouldn’t care anyway. I was taught to judge based on character, not skin color. And based on this comment, I judge this individual to be an asshole. Again, you can criticize anything I share or write, but do so respectfully.

We have now entered the July 2021 LTG archives, and in this post, I talk about being lazy. How lazy? Too lazy for sex! Joy was so disappointed, bless her heart.

Today’s YouTube video discusses the garbage crisis in the Philippines. Its focus is on the trash flowing downriver into Manila Bay, but we have a similar issue here in Subic Bay. I’ve seen full garbage bags floating down the Matain River below my house. The ultimate solution will require a cultural shift, something I don’t expect will happen anytime soon.

Time to lighten the load:

Now do water to beer, Jesus. And make it Extra Light!
You may want to be careful who you monkey with, dude. Just sayin’.
I don’t get the Klaus Müller reference, but it is still funny to me.

And there you have it, another day, another post. And like every other day this month, the rain is pounding on my roof as I write this. And so it goes.

Weather or not

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Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned…

I hate to sound like a broken record (damn, that reference is old. Who else remembers those scratched LPs that wouldn’t play right?), but it is still raining. I don’t know if it will go on for forty days and nights or not, but we are now more than halfway there. Meanwhile, life goes on. Such as it is.

So, despite the wet weather, we headed out for the Sunday Sweet Street Stroll.

About half the walk was under umbrellas.
That’s as close as we got to Easter Mountain.
Strollin’ down the Govic bypass highway.
Just passin’ through.
It seems the banca boats have fled the angry waters of the bay.
Those waters I mentioned. I tried and mostly failed to capture the splash as the waves hit the seawall.
Takin’ care of business.
The last stop of the day was the biggest.
The way we rolled was just over 5K.

Our Sunday evening routine includes visits to Red Bar and a nightcap at Jumpin’ Jacks. Getting there required taking shelter under our umbrellas. Upon arriving at Red Bar, I was surprised when the waitress asked if I wanted to try a new beer: San Miguel Extra Light. Never heard of it, but why not?

Like an answer to a prayer–a replacement for my old favorite, San Mig Zero, has finally arrived.
In some ways, it is even better than Zero. Extra Light has the same lower alcohol content, but way fewer calories…19 versus the 60 in Zero. San Miguel Light has 5% alcohol and 100 calories.

Taste-wise, Extra Light lacks the robust flavor Zero had. Then again, it took me a while to develop a taste for Zero. The Extra Light goes down smooth and easy. It reminds me of the Michelob Ultra I used to drink in the States. Back then, people would say, “Drinking Ultra is like making love in a canoe. They are both fucking close to water.” That’s okay with me!

Maybe with some Extra Light as part of my life, I can finally start reducing that beer belly of mine. I’m gonna try REAL hard lifting those 12-ounce weights every night!

I’ve got a LONG way to go to get there.

When we arrived at Jumpin’ Jacks for our nightcap, the manager and bartender had never heard of Extra Light. I sent them a photo, and the manager promised to try to order some for our next visit. I sent a message to the Hash Beer-Meister, and he is also going to try to find some Extra Light for the Hash Circle. Good times!

In the meantime, I’ll take things Light-ly.

I wasn’t up for shooting pool last night, so I had the waitresses play for a 50-peso prize to the winner. And of course, before we departed, I gave the losers a 50-peso consolation prize. Everyone’s a winner when Gwapo comes to town!

Speaking of coming to town, it looks like we have another visitor on the horizon:

Shit, just what we didn’t need. Now I’m worried about the viability of the trail I’ve been plotting for the Hash run on August 31.

From the June 2021 LTG archives, I recount the somewhat sad story of a gal I met while hiking. MJ did bar work as a young woman, married an American bar manager, had his kids, then he abandoned her for another woman. He did at least provide some monthly support for the children he’d left behind. At least until he died. Long story short, I took her on as one of my primary charity projects and continue to supply a monthly stipend so she can feed her half-American kids. No, the husband never bothered to get them citizenship before he passed.

Another thing I’ve noticed as I stroll through the COVID-era archives is that I consistently was calling bullshit on the stupid shit being foisted on us. It is nice to be vindicated all these years later. Here’s an example:

Dr. Fraudci in action.

Today’s YouTube video talks about the lack of mass shootings in the Philippines, despite a relatively vibrant gun culture here. I know I feel safer here than I would back in the USA, despite being surrounded by people living in poverty. When I walk through slums on my hikes, I receive warm greetings and smiles, not threats of robbery or violence. Try that in Chicago. The vlogger also mentions murder for hire, which is a real thing and one of the reasons I strive not to piss off the wrong Filipino or cause them to lose face. I’ve heard you can hire a hitman for a couple of hundred bucks. My life is worth more than that, thank you!

Try these on for size:

You get what you pay for.
That’s a real fuck-up!
It’s good to be there for those in need.

Another rainy Hash Monday. Leech My Nuggets is the Hare, and he sent me the map to his trail that includes going up to the Kalaklan Ridge, then back down into Barretto. I’ve been itching to get back up there and was looking forward to giving the trail a try. Alas, doing that climb in the rain is a no-go for me. Actually, it is the descent on a slippery trail that is even more concerning. It’s been pouring down rain all morning, so I’m sure things are more than a little muddy. Nope, I’ll be keeping it to the streets today.

Dancing in the rain

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Not to be a dick about it or anything, but “niceness in society” would mean no one gets screwed. Just sayin’…

This is the rainiest rainy season I remember since moving here, but at least the intensity of the daily storms has diminished. Luckily, my routines continue unabated, rain or shine. The downside is that I have nothing new or of interest to report, but that’s never stopped me before, so let’s get on with it.

It being Saturday morning, we headed out for our weekly Decay Dance. Just a couple of showers along the way, and we successfully defended ourselves with umbrellas.

That Candy Girl of mine.
My favorite mountain.
An uling (charcoal) factory.
And we danced around the puddles all morning.

That’s all the photos I took during the walk. When you do the same route week after week, there just ain’t much new or interesting to photograph. You are welcome!

As far as the Saturday evening bar crawl goes, things were a little different, but not in a good way. After a rainy walk into town, we popped into Sloppy Joe’s to kick off the drinking portion of the day. The place was packed like I’ve never seen it before. The street-view seats were all taken, but we found a table and chairs nearby. I figured we’d do a round (that’s one glass of wine for Swan, and three beers for me), then move on to the Alaska Club.

Scott posted this photo of The Alaska Club back when it was located in Angeles City. It was the first bar I visited (and took a girl from) as a tourist in 2008.

Alaska owner Jerry is temporarily back in the States, and his absence was evident. The first thing off was that we were told no red wine was available. That never happens when Jerry is around, and even if it did, he would send someone out to pick up a bottle. We arrived a little after 5:30 (the bar opens at 5), and some of the staff was still coming in late. The thing I enjoy most during my visits (yes, more than the dancers on stage) is the music mix Jerry plays. When we arrived, there was a Toby Keith country song (with video) playing, and that suited me fine. Next up was another Toby song, and I’m like, that’s okay, I like him. Then, the first song repeated itself, followed again by the second. And yep, like a Groundhog Day loop, it started a third round. Either the staff didn’t notice or didn’t give a damn (or both), so I pointed it out and someone did play something new. We were the only customers, and after I finished my beer, I paid my tab, and we departed.

We went to Wet Spot next door, arriving a few minutes before the official 6 p.m. opening. We were served anyway, and yes, they had wine for Swan. When manager Brett arrived, he fired up his usual good music selections (we were both raised in California in the 60s, so our song preferences are similar. A little disappointing that our Hash buddy head waitress wasn’t working, but at least I saved money on lady drinks. I did order some food to snack on from the Sit-n-Bull waitress, who is now back on duty after her maternity leave. Then at the appointed hour, we took a rainy trike ride back home. I made a batch of smoothies, and then hit the sack.

And I managed a good night’s sleep for a change.

I found this article about “17 phrases our grandparents used to say” to be somewhat amusing. I’ve even used a few of them myself back in the day.

Facebook memories took me back to my last birthday gathering as a working man:

My wonderful team at the Directorate of Human Resources in 2017.

From the June 2021 LTG archives is a Father’s Day post showing three generations of the McCrarey clan. The star of my friends-with-benefits program, Joy, surprised me with a cake and a gift, making a special trip from Subic to deliver it. Looking back now, she was more special than I gave her credit for being. We’d celebrated her birthday the week before, and this post includes a nice picture of her. Thanks for the memories, Joy! Sorry if I wound up hurting you.

Today’s YouTube video talks about the origins of “Filipino time” (always being late). It really is a thing here, and it can be irritating, but it is low on my list of frustrations. Anyway, the video provides some historical excuse-making for this cultural quirk, but I’m not convinced that its foundation wasn’t always, and remains, rudeness.

Speaking of joy:

Blondes have more fun.
Get over it, dude. I was surprised at all the Hangeul signage in Bohol, but Korea is a lot closer for tourists than Europe or the states. And if it weren’t for the Koreans, Angeles City would be bankrupt by now.
Time to cash it in, Picard.

And so it goes. Still raining today, but that ain’t gonna keep me from my Sunday routines. Onward!

I posted this on Facebook four years ago today:

Into each life some rain must fall

But too much is falling in mine

Into each heart some tears must fall

But some day the sun will shine

Some folks can lose the blues in their hearts

But when I think of you another shower starts

Into each life some rain must fall

But too much is falling in mine

I couldn’t remember writing that, but I didn’t attribute the writer. Thanks to Google AI I found out it is from an old (1944) Ella Fitzgerald song. Let’s give it a listen:

I like it!