Not a lot to report about my All Saints’ Day. A goodly portion of it was spent on the road coming home from La Union. But I didn’t let that keep me from being on time for the beer o’clock activities. Yep, it’s back to the same old, same old. Here we go:

Arrived back home around 1 p.m., unpacked the laptop, and knocked out yesterday’s abbreviated post. Sorry for saying right when I meant left. Then I headed into Barretto.

I was in for a surprise when I attempted to take my backway shortcut out of Alta Vista. During my weekend absence, someone had constructed a barbed wire fence blocking my route. Shit. I’m going to miss going that way.

Swan went for a massage, and I waited for her at Red Bar. The “backslappers” table was full of loud drunks when I first arrived, but they drifted off after an hour or so. Manager Cliff gave me control of the music box, so I entertained myself with classic rock hits from the ’70s that I know and love. Swan arrived, and we had some grub—quesadillas, pancit, and lumpia—delivered from Foodies. It reminded me a little of the old Sunday feedings I used to do at Hideaway Bar.

We popped into Voodoo Bar next and had the place to ourselves, so I enticed Swan to play some pool. She’s just learning, so I gave her some tips and guidance based on my limited experience—a case of the blind leading the blind. One problem was that the bar tables encroached on the pool table, making some shots much more difficult. I sent the manager a message this morning to make him aware of the problem. After one game—I scratched on the 8-ball, giving Swan the victory—we headed out to greener pastures.

We finished up with a nightcap at Cyclone. We were entertained by watching some skilled pool players show us how it SHOULD be done. Well, seeing and executing are two different things, so we’ll see if I learned any new tricks. I didn’t achieve my 9 p.m. goal, but I’d had enough, so we headed for home. Better safe than sorry.

Facebook memories reminded me that four years ago, I was in Phnom Penh, Cambodia:

From the April 2023 LTG archives, I recount a chance encounter with a bargirl “friend” from the past. Old dreams die, new ones are born, then they die too. And suddenly, you are back where you started.

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

Today’s YouTube video provides a good reminder of why you should remember the mantra: Take a deep breath. Relax. Accept the Filipino way. Because if you don’t, you might wind up getting your ass kicked.

I know you’ve been missing my kind of humor:

It’s another Hash Monday. The trail starts out of town, climbs Kalaklan Ridge, and finishes way out at the end of Rizal Extension. Nope, not for me. Instead, I’ll walk the Bitch trail from my house to the finish, have some Hash beers, then walk back down to Barretto and do the It Doesn’t Matter hangout. I had my fill of adventure on Saturday.

It’s now 1975 on our musical journey. It was the year I turned 25 and became a first-time father. I was also a big Eagles fan.

The beaches and girls here in the Philippines are every bit as nice as I remember from my glory days in California. Still, I’m ready and willing to do it again—if only I could.

As days go, yesterday was a good one. All the more so because it was a little bit out of the ordinary. The Wednesday Walkers group made the journey out to San Marcelino for a hike alongside the lahar-laden Santo Tomas River.

And the fun wasn’t over yet! My new Wednesday-evening routine is the nine-ball pool tournament at Alaska Club. I still suck at pool, although Swan says I’m getting better. The nice thing about the nine-ball format is that luck is a big factor. And for the first time in my new pool “career,” I got lucky and won a game!

The tourney starts at 6:30, and we got there an hour early so I could get some practice in. Our regular waitresses, Alex and Sha, were glad to assist me in that regard, and, of course, I rewarded them with a lady drink.

Last week, there weren’t enough players to hold the tournament—I understand that 10 is the minimum—so I offered Alex and Sha a choice: a lady drink or my paying the 200-peso entry fee so they could play in the tourney. They both selected the pool-playing option. Good for them! And, coincidentally, we had enough players to be good to go. Three other expats were there as well, and damn, they were good.

So now I was in the losers’ bracket, and I had to wait a LONG time for my next game—right around two hours. There was nothing to do but fill that time with beer drinking, and that’s just what I did. I can’t say for sure that beer makes me play better, but when my turn finally came around, I won for the first time ever.

In the next round, I played Jay, aka Simba) the owner of Hot Zone bar and the former grandmaster of the Subic Bay Hash. I’ve known him for years, but this is the first time I’ve seen him play pool (we played darts once). He is also an outstanding player and promptly dispatched me from the tournament.

But I had a good time, and that’s all that matters. I mean, I got my beer-drinking time in, along with something different to do while imbibing. That works for me.

And I’ll be happy with similar Wednesdays to come!

From the March 2023 LTG archives, I tell the tale of how a date with Mary went down. Damn, looking back on it now, I’m shaking my head and saying, “What was I thinking?” That photo of us makes me cringe. I’m fine with helping her out with school expenses, but as the commenters noted back then, I should have taken a hands-off approach.

Today’s YouTube video is a review of the Orchid Inn hotel in Angeles City. That was the first place I ever stayed as a tourist, and it was my go-to lodging for years afterward. My favorite rooms are by the pool. The lobby rooms suck. The pool bar is also a nice place to sit and drink.

Yeah, I’m going there again:

And that’s it for now. I’m leaving for La Union in the morning and staying for the weekend. Gonna join in the Hash anniversary there. Looking forward to getting out of town. And you faithful few readers will have something different to see as well!

It’s 1972 in our march through the music of my lifetime. I mentioned this song earlier in my post, and it turns out to be one of the top songs of the year:

It’s all back to normal around here, and I’ll take the boringness of routines over the uncertainty of the unknown any day. Really, I enjoy the hell out of doing what I do to fill the hours, and I hope I can continue doing so well into the future. Live it while you’ve got it, and all that jazz.

The Sunday Sweets Street Stroll was how we started our day. We brought along 200 bags of candy but ran out before finishing our regular route. Two hundred smiles are still a nice way to kick things off. Here are some scenes from our abbreviated trek:

Here’s the video I made as we passed through neighborhood #3 on our stroll:

The way those kids were lined up was something we’d never seen before, and I found it funny as hell. Kudos to the adults who imposed a little military discipline for our mutual amusement.

Our candy walks are a pleasant way to get some steps in, and add some sweetness to the lives of the children we encounter. Fun in the sun!

My days are bookended by walking and beer drinking, so let’s get to that second part, shall we?

Well, quiet customer-wise. Manager Cliff handed me control of the music selections, and I went with a 70s classic rock playlist. One of the customers complimented me on my choices.

Next on our agenda was paying a visit to Gold Bar to join in the bar’s first-anniversary celebration. So we walked across town on the busy highway and arrived a few minutes before the scheduled 6 p.m. kickoff.

Gold Bar opens early, and when we arrived, the place was packed with customers unlike anything I’d seen before. It was nice to see a Barretto bar doing well these days. All the seats in the main bar area were full, so for the first time ever, we were seated in the room behind the dance stage.

My friend Nancy entertained the guests by singing karaoke-style at the beginning of the party. She has a good voice, and it was nice to watch her dance moves. Sadly, the speaker in the back room was blaring so loudly that it was almost painful to my sensitive ears. It was a relief when her four-song set was completed.

I’m on the introvert side of the scale, and crowded rooms become increasingly uncomfortable for me. The poor waitresses were trying their best but were overwhelmed, and the service grew slower. I’d had enough by 7:30, so we paid up and headed out.

It was still too early to go home (even by my low standards), so we crossed the highway and popped into the Outback Bar. We were the only customers at first, and having some space felt good to me after the overcrowded Gold Bar experience. Two or three other guys came in later during our visit, but there was lots of room for everyone.

Abby plays a good pool game, and she beat me twice without much difficulty.

I had made a batch of my Aunt Pat’s Recipe World Famous Fruit Salad earlier in the day, and as the evening wore down, I could hear it calling for me to come home and eat some. And that’s just what I did.

In the February 2023 LTG archives is a post where I share an editorial I wrote for my high school newspaper defending the First Amendment right to criticize school administrators. I was the executive editor of the paper and published it without our advisor’s knowledge or consent. I guess it worked because I wasn’t disciplined for speaking out. I enjoyed being a radical in the ’70s. In this iteration of my 70s, I’m just a grumpy old man.

Today’s YouTube video captures a chance meeting on the streets of Cebu. Let’s get something straight between us—she’s definitely a girl with something extra. And I don’t mean those tits. Take three minutes and see for yourself.

Shit, one of those vloggers that don’t allow embedding their video. Sorry to make it hard on you, but you can watch it here.

Here’s today’s lame attempt to be funny:

And now it’s time to get ready for today’s Hash. My intel says there’s a long-trail option (10K) and a medium trail (5K). The Hash begins at Barretto High School. I’ll walk the 2K over the hill from my house to the start, then attempt the medium route—a 7K effort. We’ll see how that works out for me.

In 1969, I was 14 years old and a freshman in high school. The No. 1 song that year was from the bubblegum genre, which many hard-rock fans derided. Well, I liked it back then, and it still brings back sweet memories. Enjoy!

Just a quick update on my “situation.” We talked and took a step in the right direction. Together. We’ll see where this takes us, but it feels like progress. Thanks to all of you who took the time to offer advice and encouragement.

So, as is the custom around here, we did our weekly Decay Dance to sweeten the lives of the children in San Isidro.

Before I get to the photos, let me share this interaction I just had with my AI proofreader. I’d sent the sentence above for review, and there were no suggested changes. That’s a rare event for someone like me. Here’s how it went down:

Me: No changes? You mean, I finally got it write?

AI: Yes—you got it right this time. The sentence is grammatically sound and reads naturally as written.

Me: Yeah, the “write” was wrong on purpose. Just testing your sense of humor.

AI: You got me. “Write” was wrong on purpose—and I walked straight past the joke while congratulating you on getting it “right.” Point to you.

Anyway, I thought it was funny. On with the Dance then:

I did a video of the SECOND section of the Decay Dance, but for some reason, during the narration, I called it the third. Well, assuming two follows one, it is indeed the second part. Told you my brain was mush.

After the Decay Dance, we had our talk and left five days of discomfort mostly behind us. At beer o’clock, I asked Swan where she wanted to start, and she said, “Palm Tree.” That was a bit surprising. She used to work in reception there, and her deceased former love managed the bar. I assumed the memories had made it a no-go. I had been a semi-regular there in the past and always enjoyed it, so I was fine with making it our first stop.

Swan had a chat with the owner during our visit, and they want to host a Hash on the beach downstairs. I passed that information along to the Hash powers that be, and it looks like we may be there next month.

Our next stop was Wet Spot. I ordered some food from Sit-n-Bull—pulled pork for me and some Filipino soup for the gals—and that seemed to hit the spot. I had a coupon that gave me a free beer when I bought a lady drink, so that was a good deal. (I would have bought the two lady drinks regardless.) The bar was pretty quiet for a Saturday, but it was still early—around 7:30.

Next, we headed to Cyclone Bar for our nightcap. I’m liking the vibe in this bar more and more: good music, friendly staff, and just a comfortable place to sit back and enjoy your beer. We were entertained watching the pool players; a couple of them were amazingly good.

I really don’t like having a bunch of gals join our table. One or two that I know is fine, but four or five—not so much. I’m down for buying a couple of lady drinks, but not for everyone, and I wasn’t going to pick two gals and exclude the rest, so I didn’t offer any drinks. Then this group of guys came in, sat at the booth next to ours, and suddenly, most of the girls with us disappeared.

Swan did wind up buying two lady drinks—well, she bought them, and I paid. That’s what a 50–50 relationship is all about, right?—for the waitress and the gal she was chatting with. We made it to almost 9 p.m., and then I was ready for a smoothie at home and a good night’s sleep.

And things are pretty much back to normal today.

I traveled back in time via Facebook memories today:

Continuing with the February 2023 LTG archives, I finally met Mary in person. What a difference fifty years makes! Well, I think I knew from the start that there was no overcoming that age gap, but it was fun while it lasted. I still support her continuing education, hoping she’ll escape the cycle of poverty and make a positive difference in life. The deal we made was that when she’s successful, she’ll pay it forward.

For today’s YouTube video, let me share one of those ten-minute short films I came across. This one is called “The Old Man at the Bar,” so how could I not watch it? It takes place in Paris, and the old man is an American. Hey, it’s only ten minutes—give it a watch. Or don’t. Up to you.

I just can’t seem to help myself:

And with that, we’ll bring this post to a close.

It’s 1968, the year I became a teenager. The song “Young Girl” was a top-ten hit. It didn’t seem so creepy at the time, but then, it wasn’t about a fifty-year age gap. Damn, what was I thinking?

I used to get high a lot more often than I do nowadays, but sometimes the urge to rise above it all cannot be denied. Yesterday, the Friday group hike took us for a stroll along the Kalaklan Ridgeline. As I’ve mentioned before, there is no easy way up to the top, but we took the easiest route I know of, and it wasn’t so bad. What makes it easier is that you climb to the low end of the ridge. Once that summit is reached, the ridgeline walk becomes a gentler incline toward the higher elevations of Kalaklan. I’m happy to report that I experienced no breathing issues or other problems in my quest for the top. And, as always, the amazing views make the hike worth the effort.

At the junction where the road turns right and heads down to Olongapo, we took the path to the left and made our way to Barretto. It turned out that this was the route Monday’s Hash trail had taken—and one that I had avoided—so it was good to see what I’d missed. And now you can, too, because I pulled out my phone and recorded this short video:

See what I mean about those views from up here? I’d actually love to live on the ridge, as long as I could reach my place in a four-wheeled vehicle. Waking up to those vistas would make the pain-in-the-ass factor worth it.

Our dirt path down ended at the top of Banaba Street. It’s a bitch to walk up Banaba, but no problem going downhill. Funny how that works. Anyway, just for shits and giggles, I made a video of my least favorite street in Barretto.

Near the bottom of Banaba, we ran into a new guy in town whom we had met at Monday’s Hash. He’s just rented a house here and hopes to be joining us on our hikes soon. Welcome to town, and enjoy the Banaba lifestyle!

When it was time to begin the alcoholic portion of my life, I headed into town alone again. Swan was meeting up with a friend but said she’d join me later. I made my first stop at the Outback poolside bar, where I had one beer and purchased an Outback T-shirt for a friend who used to work there. Then I moved up the road to Thumbstar Bar.

I very rarely visit this bar, but since it’s under new ownership, I thought I’d check it out. There were a couple of guys I know there, so I joined them at their table and chatted with them for a while. I enjoyed the music, accompanied by videos playing on several large-screen TVs. I also snuck a picture of the dancers for those readers who like to see what’s available in the bars.

Next up, I thought I’d pop into Gold Bar. But when I walked through the door, a girl was loudly singing karaoke, so I turned around and walked back out. As I stood on the street trying to decide what to do next, the singer came out and greeted me by name. Damn—it was my old friend Nancy, who used to work at Alley Hideout Bar, and I hadn’t recognized her.

She apologized for the singing, saying she was just practicing for Gold Bar’s anniversary party on Sunday. I felt bad for walking out on her so rudely, but I promised I’d return to hear her sing on Sunday.

Since Queen Victoria was the nearest bar around that didn’t require another perilous highway crossing, I made it my next (and final) stop of the evening. As promised, Swan joined me there. Manager Jake sat with us and we shared the usual chitchat about the bar business. And yes, I got a picture of some of the dance crew as well:

I still have no idea what’s going on or what’s going to happen next. I’m just going to wait it out and sing, “Que sera, sera.”

Moving on with the February 2023 LTG archives, I have a twofer to share today. I talk about meeting “Mary”—if chatting on Facebook Messenger constitutes meeting. We did make dinner plans, but something came up and she had to cancel. What was weird were the various connections we had: one of my former helpers was dating her father, and a gal I had Hashed with was her aunt.

Anyway, Mary and I are still friends, and I help her out each month with some expenses as she pursues a college degree. Oh, and we did date briefly, despite her being only 18 years old—which I verified using her birth certificate. She was by far the youngest gal I’d been with since the first time I was in my 70s.

My epiphany occurred when my granddaughter turned 18, and I realized how wrong dating Mary had been on so many levels. The other post I’m sharing has lots of photos from the VFW Beach Bash beauty pageant I attended at the Arizona Resort, where Dave Fischer was the MC. Both are gone now, except in my memories. There’s also more of the Mary story at the end of that post.

Today’s YouTube video is a good one about things to consider before making the move to the Philippines. I had the advantage of having spent more than a decade in Korea and having made multiple visits to the Philippines. I probably should have pursued the SRRV retirement visa when I first moved here—I’ve been a tourist all these years—but oh well, water under the bridge.

Here I go again:

Sometimes you just gotta let it be.

It’s 1967 and Doors are opening. The fist vinyl LP (remember them?) I ever bought was by the The Doors.

Regarding the title of today’s post, I’m just in a weird place at the moment and not sure if I’m headed for the sewer or not. I’ll figure it out and deal with the consequences, so no worries. Life goes on until it doesn’t, so I’ll make the best of it.

Okay, this is kind of hilarious and maybe a little spooky. I sent to above paragraph to my AI proofreader, and was surprised when I got this response:

I’m glad you told me. The “sewer” wording and “until it doesn’t” make this sound potentially concerning, so I want to check directly: are you thinking about hurting yourself or ending your life right now?

If yes—or you’re not sure—please move away from anything you could use to hurt yourself, stay with Swan or another trusted person, and call 911 in the Philippines or go to the nearest emergency department. You can also contact the National Center for Mental Health Crisis Hotline: 1553. If you’re elsewhere, call your local emergency number.

If you’re safe right now, tell me that plainly, and we can talk through what’s putting you in this weird place.

I reassured the AI thusly: Thanks for your concern. No, I am not contemplating suicide. I’m just dealing with some changes and needing to make some decisions regarding the future.

Thanks for clarifying—I’m relieved to hear you’re safe. That sounds like uncertainty rather than an immediate crisis, and it makes sense to feel unsettled when major changes and future decisions are in play.

And this is how AI suggested I rewrite that first paragraph:

The paragraph is grammatically sound. The only phrase I’d soften is “Life goes on until it doesn’t,” because, in combination with the title, it can easily sound like a reference to death—even if that isn’t what you mean.

A light edit that preserves your meaning:

Regarding the title of today’s post, I’m just in a weird place at the moment and not sure whether I’m headed for the sewer or not. I’ll figure it out and deal with the consequences, so no worries. Life keeps moving, and I’ll make the best of it.

Wasn’t that fun? The future is coming on, but in the meantime, let’s get on with today’s post:

We took a walk through the Calapadayan neighborhood where the lola I occasionally help lives. As usual, when her grandkids saw us coming, they screamed, came running, and gave me hugs. I provide cookies, lollipops, and 500 pesos every couple of weeks. It’s probably the smallest of my “charity” projects, but it feels like the most appreciated.

Here’s a video I made as we moved on with our journey to the next neighborhood.

Then things got a little fishy:

At beer o’clock, I headed into town and started things off with a haircut. I’ve gone grey, but I’m not bald. I can live with that. Then I crossed the highway and had a few brews at Red Bar. When boredom overtook me, I moved farther down the road to Rum Jungle. More beer, a few lady drinks, and a food delivery from Sit-n-Bull.

For those readers who want photos of the dancers, here are some that Rum Jungle had on offer last night.

Then I popped into Cyclone for my nightcap. I had the same waitress who served me during Tuesday’s Hash bar crawl. I gave her a lady drink and besieged her with some of my bad jokes. She laughed politely, but I wondered if she was thinking, “They don’t pay me enough for this.”

Speaking of which, I asked my waitress at Rum Jungle last night what her commission was on a lady drink, and she told me it was 75 pesos. I offered her a 100-peso tip instead of a lady drink, but she said she preferred the drink, thus confirming that they are still imposing the lady-drink quota system: meet your target number of drinks, or your salary is reduced. If that isn’t against the law, it ought to be. If I ran a bar, meeting your lady-drink quota would result in a bonus.

Anyway, my waitress at Cyclone assured me that they do not have a lady-drink quota at all. Good for them. This will be a factor in which bars I choose to patronize.

It wasn’t quite 8 p.m. yet, but I called it a night and headed for home.

Oh, and Terry, that imposter is still trying to use your name for comments. I’ve been trashing them. Just wanted to let you know. Oh, and as you predicted, he tried this bullshit:

My veteran’s payment didn’t come through this month and I need a 3000 dollar loan. I would like to keep this discreet so would be using anonymous channels of course. Thank you, John, pay you back end of November.

In other news, I made the cover of the Subic Bay Hash Facebook page:

From the February 2023 LTG archives, I recount my bout with VD. I’m talking about Valentine’s Day. I didn’t have a girlfriend then, but I didn’t go home alone. It was my first barfine in a long time, and, if memory serves, also my last one. The sweet girl agreed to spend the night with me on one condition: no boom-boom (sex). Oh, and I agreed to pay her 4,000 pesos to snuggle. Thanks for the memories!

Today’s YouTube video shows what things looked like on the trip from Subic, through Barretto, and on to Olongapo back in 1978. These days, Subic and Olongapo have next to no bars catering to foreigners. Of course, the Barretto bar scene is also slowly dying, so we’ll see what the future holds.

Forgive me Father, for I have shared stupid memes:

And that’s all I’ve got for now. Working on accepting things as they are, instead of what I’d hoped for. We’ll see how that works out for me.

It’s 1966 and I wasn’t dreaming about California, I was growing up there.

Here in the land of the living, I’d been thinking I needed to stop wussing out and climb some hills while I still could. With that thought in mind, I suggested to my fellow Wednesday Walkers that we explore the short trail from Monday’s Hash that none of us had done. I’d heard the one hill climb on that route was a tough one, but wanted to see for myself. The other two attendees agreed to join me on that adventure, so off we went.

I stopped at Sit-n-Bull for a roast beef dip sandwich to take home for lunch. A shower, a nap, and a blog post later, it was time to head back into town for that other part of my life—the bar scene. Swan took the night off, so I was on my own.

I kicked things off at the infrequently visited Cheap Charlies. As I entered, the bartender told me they were out of San Miguel Extra Light, but it had been ordered and they were awaiting delivery. I said, “Fine, I’ll have a Light then.” I saw the delivery guys drop off the beer order, so I asked for an Extra Light and a glass of ice, only to be advised that the beer distributor didn’t have XL available. Oh shit, here we go again.

I didn’t let that spoil my mood, and I sucked down three Lights during my one-hour visit, during which I was the only customer. Well, one other guy came in, but when he was told Extra Light wasn’t available, he turned around and left. I had a nice chat with my favorite, Gerlie, then ordered some food from Foodies downstairs for me and the crew.

After Cheap Charlies, I survived the highway crossing and made it safely to Alaska Club, where I signed up for the weekly 9-ball pool tournament. My regulars, Sha and Alex, challenged me to play some warm-up games, which suited me fine. I beat Sha and lost to Alex.

Alaska owner Jerry is out of the country now, and the gals say that when he isn’t around, a lot of the regular pool players don’t bother coming to the tournaments. That was the case last night, and we didn’t have enough players, so the tourney was canceled and my 200-peso entry fee was refunded. I played Sha and Alex one more time each in a consolation game and rewarded them both with a 100-peso prize for their efforts.

It was only 7:30 when I left Alaska, so I thought I’d pop into Rum Jungle for a nightcap. Alas, as I looked for a place to sit, I noticed an asshole I know at another table. I decided I didn’t want to be under the same roof as that guy, so I went home instead.

I came across this rendering of the top peeves that come with living in the Philippines:

It is now February 2023 in the LTG archives. In this post, I tell the tale of my most expensive one-time charity offering—buying a motor scooter for a woman in need that cost me $1,500. She’s still riding it three years later, so I guess it was worth it. I also talk about another of my Hideaway feedings, a practice I discontinued last year. The bar shut down last month, and owner Griff died yesterday, so those memories are all that’s left.

Today’s YouTube video is a short from the Filipina Pea posing the question of whether one could fall in love with an AI persona. I doubt I’d fall for a fake gal, but damn, I could go for the Pea. I mean, if I were a younger single man, that is.

Ready or not, here they come:

And that’s the story of my Wednesday. I’d rate it a good one.

It’s 1965 on our musical journey through the past. This song didn’t make the top of the charts, but it is one of the ones I’ve always enjoyed over the years:

Today’s departure for the Hash trail is at eleven fuckin’ a.m., so I’m going to rush this post and get my ass ready to roll. We’re taking a bus ride out to Naugsol for the start of the trails: the Long Trail, 12K, with a couple of mountain climbs; the Medium Trail, 8K, with a climb to the ridgeline. My trail is of undetermined length, but I’ll be doing a valley walk back to the on-home at the Bella Monte Hotel. You’ll get the whole story in tomorrow’s post.

Now, about my yesterday. We did our Sunday Sweets Street Stroll in the morning. Here’s a video of neighborhood #2 on our route:

And here is the only other photo I took during the stroll:

I jest, of course. I did get to experience some real beauty and enjoy new perspectives during a yacht cruise on Subic Bay yesterday. It was a friend’s daughter’s 18th-birthday celebration, and I somehow managed to wrangle an invite. I’ve taken bay tours on a banca boat before, but cruising on a quiet, comfortable vessel was a completely different vibe. Here are some photos I took along the way:

UPDATE: Here are a few more photos Scott just posted:

It was a very pleasant journey and a nice change of scenery. Swan and I got dropped off at Red Bar on the way back home and enjoyed some more libations and music. Then we moved on to Voodoo Bar for our nightcap.

Since we started so early in the day (my first beer was at 12:30), we were both ready to call it a night at 7:30 and head on home. It was another good day in the life.

Oddly enough, I somehow opened this app on my phone that I didn’t even know I had:

From the January 2023 LTG archives, I tell the story of the worst date I ever went on. This was a woman I had “met” on Facebook and enjoyed chatting with online. Then we had our first date, and she didn’t want to talk at all. She wouldn’t even order from the menu. I’d never seen anything like that in a lifetime of dating. Obviously, I never asked her out again.

As an epilogue to the story, we remain friends on Facebook. She joined some of the group hikes and even Hashed occasionally, though she was dating another Hasher at the time. A nice enough gal—just not the one for me.

Today’s YouTube video talks about the perils of having a “maid with benefits.” As a retired HR guy, I learned early on that you don’t dip your pen in company ink or fish off the company pier. And there really are risks involved when you treat an employee like a plaything. Yeah, I’ve done the “friends-with-benefits” thing, but I never screwed around with my helpers. I briefly thought about hiring a girlfriend to fill some voids, but I rejected the idea before ever trying it. Sorry for the AI narration, it is getting harder to find videos without it these days. At least the AI maid is attractive.

Now for more of this crap:

And now you know. Thanks for your indulgence.

It’s 1962 in our hit parade. Are you up for some loco-motion?

I sometimes order more beer in Spanish, but despite being a vassal of Spain for 300 years, almost no one here speaks the colonizers’ language. Not that it matters, although a lot of Tagalog words are derived from Spanish.

In any language, our weekly Decay Dance is a sweet undertaking.

Here’s the video I made of our trek through the first neighborhood. Holding the phone while walking down a steep and potentially dangerous path wasn’t as easy as it looks.

And a few other photos from the Dance:

When we headed out for our Saturday evening, we started with dinner at Mango’s: grilled pork chops, as usual.

After dinner, we headed down the road to Cyclone Bar to help them celebrate their one-year anniversary.

Cyclone had a nice turnout for the party. I’m guessing this bar is doing better than a lot of the bars in Barretto. In the spirit of the event, I splurged on several lady drinks for my regulars, lightening my wallet by 2,200 pesos. Congratulations!

Since it was Saturday, we did our nightcap at a bar we rarely frequent: Castaway at the Palm Tree Hotel. Back in the day, I was a semi-regular here. Swan used to work in reception at the hotel, but there were some unresolved issues when she left, and she normally doesn’t like to go there these days. Last night, some of Swan’s friends were there to see a new DJ, so we popped in.

The only downer during our visit was discovering that Castaway doesn’t have San Miguel Extra Light. Swan said she talked to the owner about that, and they’ll be ordering some soon. I always enjoyed spending time at Castaway in the past, and now it appears that Swan is willing to let bygones be bygones, so hopefully we’ll visit more often in the future.

As we departed I took a photo of the clock in the hotel lobby:

Moving on with the December 2022 LTG archives, I share the story of a charity event I participated in at an Aeta village in Old Cabalan, Olongapo. We try to do something like this every year.

Today’s YouTube video covers ten things foreigners say and do that Filipinas might not understand. Sorry for the AI narration, but I’m in a hurry today and can’t find anything else right now.

I apologize in advance for these:

I’ll be taking a yacht cruise on Subic Bay this afternoon. That’s a first for me and so I’ll have something new to share here tomorrow. See you then!

For the 1961 hit, I’m sharing a Patsy Cline classic. Some of my earliest memories are of my father coming home from work, putting an album on the record player, grabbing a beer, and sitting back in his easy chair to enjoy the music. Patsy Cline was one of his favorites. I was struck by the irony of “I Fall to Pieces,” because two years later, Patsy Cline tragically died in an airplane crash.

Thanks for the weight-loss advice in the comments yesterday. I was happy to see a measure of progress when I tried on some of the shorts from my “doesn’t fit anymore” shelf—and by golly, I could button them again!

More of the same around here yesterday, but that’s a good thing. I led the Wednesday Walkers on a nice valley hike, and it turned out to be quite pleasant and mostly dry. When we completed our journey, the group joined me upstairs at The Rite Spot On The Roof for some food and liquid refreshments. Good times! I need to visit The Rite Spot more often.

So, my new Wednesday evening activity is participating in the Alaska Club 9-ball pool tournament. Two hundred peso entry fee, and comes with a free beer.

That said, I didn’t embarrass myself. Much. And it is a pleasant way to pass some time while engaged in the serious work of consuming San Miguel Extra Light beers. I did well at that!

I was eliminated from the competition just before 8 p.m., so we went next door to Wet Spot for our nightcap.

Anyway, just the usual chill times during our visit, then having achieved my 9 p.m. goal, we made our way safely home via tricycle. And so ended another day in the life.

One of my charity projects, a cancer patient in Manila, is now in the hospital awaiting surgery. She messaged me that her doctor suggested “palliative care.” I told her not to give up the fight. Hoping for the best, but she’s not looking good.

So, I took the bait from Facebook’s Meta AI yesterday when it suggested turning this photo of me from 1979 into a comic strip:

Anyway, here’s what Meta AI created for me:

From the November 2022 LTG archives, a couple of posts that capture my then current state of being. I received a bluntly honest message from Lydell that led me to conclude that pursuing a relationship with her was a waste of time. In the post about the Hash outstation in Pundaquit, I found myself hiking a trail I had shared with the woman I had loved and lost the previous year. Of course, the path in life I ultimately wound up taking led me to Swan, so all’s well that ends well.

In today’s YouTube video, the vlogger recounts an encounter with a woman at the mall. Seems to me he overreacted, all he needed to do was say, “Sorry, I’m with my wife.” I’ve never really been into the freelancer scene, but I’ve heard lots of stories of guys going to the mall looking for a woman to hook up with. I guess it’s cheaper than paying to take a gal out of the bar, but it also seems to be risky business. Anyway, welcome to the Philippines.

Let’s get these out of the way:

Had enough? Me too! Let’s try again tomorrow.

It’s 1958, let’s have some Tequila:

Well, if this article is to be believed, I’ve still got a long road to travel. I hope to live to see what the 80s are like!

You can only live one day at a time, and here’s how I made it through my yesterday.

Got my weekly injection Mounjaro injection from Dr. Jo. No weight loss this past week, but I’m at a higher dosage level this week, so hopefully I’ll break out of this rut and drop some pounds.

At the appointed hour, Swan wanted to go to Baloy Beach because she was craving birria tacos. The former Myleen’s cook is now running the kitchen at Foxhole Resort, and that’s the only place in town with birria on the menu. I thought about stopping by Champs Sports Bar on the way in order to get in a little pool practice. Alas, the bar is only open on weekends. That seems really stupid to me, but so be it.

Alas, when I ordered a San Miguel Extra Light at Foxhole, they still didn’t have any. I wasn’t going to deny Swan her birria desires over a beer dispute, so I ordered a Light and kept my disappointment to myself. When we placed our order, the waitress went to the kitchen and returned with the cook. He sadly informed us that birria wasn’t available because the meat wasn’t in stock. Shit. I finished my beer, and we left.

I asked Swan where we should go next, and she suggested Outback. So we caught a trike and headed out.

When we arrived at Outback, two other guys were playing pool. No problem—we wanted to get dinner out of the way. I ordered the fish and chips, and Swan chose the baby back ribs. I enjoyed my meal, but Swan was disappointed with hers. Oh well, half is better than none, I suppose.

After we finished eating, the pool table was open, so I challenged three of the Outback waitresses to one-on-one games of 8-ball.

I bought each of my opponents a lady drink and gave them a 100 peso tip for their efforts. They seemed pleased.

With pool practice taken care of, we crossed the highway and did our nightcap at Queen Victoria. We had our usual good time there. On Tuesdays, the bar offers a buy-two-get-one-free beer promotion. After my first two beers, I reminded the waitress that my next one was on the house. But later, when I checked my tab, I saw that I had been charged for four beers. I pointed out to a different waitress that I hadn’t gotten my free beer. She offered me the next two beers free to make up for the oversight, but I wasn’t up for more drinking, so she corrected the bill, and we called it a night.

According to my Facebook memories, it was eleven years ago that I became the first McCrarey to successfully complete human-trafficking training.

In all seriousness, I have not witnessed anyone here being forced into prostitution. It’s a choice some women freely make because it is the best option for earning money to support their families. Some bar rules come close to crossing the line, such as restricting the activities of bargirls when they are off duty. Another practice I don’t care for is reducing their salaries when they fail to meet a lady-drink quota. Not all bars are like that, and I tend to gravitate toward the ones that treat their female staff fairly.

From the November 2022 LTG archives, I talk about another night on the town. This one included a birthday party for my former love, an SOB, and a confrontation with an asshole. I got a laugh rereading the comments on the post where one commenter suggested a title for my autobiography: “I wasn’t sure what I was going to do next, but I knew it would involve beer … a tale of one man’s retirement in the Philippines.” Hmm, that still resonates somehow.

Today’s YouTube video is something a little different. The vlogger is an American woman who has been living in Makati, Manila, for three months and shares her observations about the quality of life in the Philippines compared with the USA. Granted, Makati’s affluent lifestyle is about as close to America as it gets here, but she still makes some valid points. Kudos to her for experiencing the culture, enjoying local food, and trying to learn some of the language.

Brace yourself, here they come:

That was yesterday, and yesterday’s gone. Now I’m going to shower and get ready for my new Wednesday routine: playing in the 9-ball pool tournament at Alaska Club. I have low expectations of success, unless success can be measured by having fun and drinking beer. I’ll let you know how it goes tomorrow.

And now from 1957, the Everly Brothers: