That’s a conundrum I can’t answer, but I can attest to the fact that despite a near total lack of practice I threw some of my best darts last night. That included two 180’s (that’s three triple 20’s if you are keeping score) which is the highest points possible in a game of 501. Pretty routine for the pros but a rare event for us amateurs. The bar recognized my feat with a chit good for one free beer (the other 180 was in warm ups so didn’t count). And my partner and I went on to a first place finish, going through the winner’s bracket undefeated. Even more satisfying was beating Steve, the non-drinking Englishman, twice!
Speaking of my partner, that’s Jerelyn. She’s also a waitress at Alley Cats. A real cutie who just turned 21. In addition to overcoming my lack of practice, I had to deal with the distraction of Jerelyn’s sweet ass while I watched her toss her arrows. Damn, to be young again!
Jerelyn is relatively new to the bar and also to the game of darts. So she has a ways to go to become proficient at the sport. She’s a sweetie though and enthusiastic. It was a good time playing with her and her reaction to winning was precious. There was a small turnout last night so her share of the winnings was only 250 pesos, but that’s pretty close to a day’s wages here.
Anyway, good times at the oche!
In other news, the sun has made a rare appearance for the better part of the day today. I got a good walk in this morning and I’m fixin’ to go out and get my afternoon groove on. But damn, it’s hot. In a steamy, sultry kind of way. That’s one thing about the Philippines, you can always find something to complain about weather-wise.
I’ll leave you with this photo of my lazy dogs. As you can see, Lucky has really grown. Probably 3/4 the size of Buddy now and he’s probably still got some growing to do.
Those are my good boys! Except when they poop in the house. It’s a work in progress, but we’ll get it figured out. Soon I hope!
Apparently. I tend to avoid trite phrases like a plague, but damn, when it rains it pours! Pretty much non-stop for two days running now.
This was the view when I was out trying to get some steps in this morning. I would think wading steps should count double, right?
And of course, it’s been raining ever since so things are much worse on the streets now. This is when the shitty infrastructure really comes into play. The streets aren’t designed in such a way as that water rolls to the curb. Not that it would matter since the drainage systems are pretty much non-functional anyway. I’m not one to complain (much), but you’d think in a country where it rains hard four months a year they’d have figured out a better way. HaHa! I forgot. I’m in the Philippines. Take a deep breath. Relax. Accept the Filipino way. Ah, that’s better!
Yesterday in the late afternoon there was a brief pause in the storm so I figured I’d hustle on out to Alaska Club and watch the weekly Sons of Baccus (SOB) dance contest. I got about a hundred yards down the street and a light rain began to fall, so I opened up my umbrella. About this time one of the security guards pulls up in his trike and offers me a ride. I’m like, no thanks, I’ll walk. He gave me an incredulous look, and again patted the seat with a “get in” nod. I said, no really I need the exercise. He shrugged and rode off.
And then the skies opened up and water poured down in torrents. Actually, with the wind kicking in it poured down and sideways. My umbrella was no match for this onslaught and soon enough I was soaked to the skin and wading ankle deep through the river that a few minutes before had been a street. As I plodded along I could only mutter repeatedly “should have taken the trike. should have taken the trike…”
Made it to Alaska (about a ten minute walk) a few minutes before opening time. Jerry, the owner, let me in early, probably feeling sorry for me looking like a drowned puppy and all. I hadn’t been to Alaska for a couple of months and one of the dancers and a waitress both seemed gleeful to see my wallet me. I kid, but they were very sweet. It seems to be a thing here that the natives consider having a wet back will make you sick somehow. Sorta like the fan death thing in Korea. I assured them I’d be okay, but they insisted on drying me off as best as they were able. It did feel nice to have all that female touching going on, so who am I to complain? [I just went back and added commas to the second sentence in this paragraph. How did I do, Kevin?]
Anyway, the beer started flowing and soon enough I forgot about my wetness. I was asked to be a judge and accepted. I didn’t get photos of all the participating bars, but here are a couple:
The Alaska dancers.This gal from Wet Spot did some freaky deaky stuff with candle wax. It was pretty *ahem* hot!These Wet Spot asses were pretty hot too as a matter of fact.
In the end, I gave my first place vote to Alaska with Wet Spot a close second. Rum Jungle took third on my ticket. The other judges must have agreed because that was how the final result came down as well.
And so ended another night in paradise.
Bad dreamer, what’s your name Looks like we’re ridin’ on the same train Looks as though there’ll be more pain There’s gonna be a Showdown
And it’s rainin’ all over the world It’s raining all over the world Tonight, the longest night
She came to me like a friend She blew in on a southern wind Now my heart is turned to stone again There’s gonna be a Showdown
And it’s rainin’ all over the world It’s raining all over the world Tonight, the longest night
I guess yesterday’s post about my American lifestyle must have shamed inspired me enough to get more adventurous. If you can call breakfast an adventure that is.
Anyway, this Filipino place just opened up and I figured I’d give it a try. It’s a small joint conveniently located right on the main highway in town. You order from the menu on the wall. At 50 pesos to the dollar you can see how inexpensive Filipino dining can be.That’s the letchon kawali, basically deep fried chunks of pork with the skin on served with a gravy dipping sauce. A little too crunchy for my taste…On the other hand, I rather enjoyed the tapsilog which tasted an awful lot like bulgogi meat. My only complaint was the portion was very small (about the size of one egg as you can see). Also rice, which comes with everything, is wasted on me as I don’t eat it much.
Still, all in all not a bad dining experience.
Yesterday afternoon we got a brief but heavy rainstorm. When it seemed to be over I headed out for my hike. I wanted to see how the flat pathways in the valley fared as I intend to incorporate them into my July 22 trail as Hare.
The path I took. And a view from the valley floor.
Turns out there were quite a few puddles that had to be maneuvered around. And that was after only a relatively brief rainstorm. A sustained rain is going to make it impossible to hike without a fair amount of wading. I’m not sure there is really any workaround for that. A trail in the hills when it is wet also has issues like mud and treacherous footing. We’ll see.
With about two kilometers to go before reaching the shelter of my house the skies opened up again and I got drenched. It was actually kind of refreshing though. Wet with sweat or wet with rain, what difference does it make in the end?
And finally (everyone’s favorite words when it comes to posts here at LTG), I played darts last night at Alley Cats. Despite my lack of practice I threw pretty well and managed a third place finish. More importantly, I actually enjoyed myself. I’ve dropped out of the dart league this season but I do intend to go out and throw in the tourneys a couple times a week anyway. After all, man does not live by beer alone. And beer and darts go together nicely!
Rainy day people always seem to know When you’re feelin’ blue High stepping strutters who land in the gutters Sometimes need one, too Take it or leave it or try to believe it, If you’ve been down too long, Rainy day lovers don’t hide love inside, they just pass it on.
I may live in the Philippines geographically, but my lifestyle is decidedly not Filipino. I’m not bragging or complaining, it is what it is, and this result was obviously my choice. I wanted to spend my retirement years as easily and as comfortably as possible. And given that I chose to live in a third world country that meant staying separate and apart from most of the locals.
Now, my place is one of the older and smaller houses in the neighborhood, a gated subdivision called Alta Vista.And from my residence I enjoy views like this one. It is also nice to be above the flooding that inevitably accompanies rainy season here.Meanwhile, my neighbors right outside Alta Vista are living like this (or worse).
Of course, having money makes a difference and I’m comparatively rich compared to most of the locals. Which is not to say that all Filipinos in the area are living in abject poverty, far from it. There are many clean and modern looking apartments in town, that while spartan, do provide comfortable shelter. In fact, many of my fellow expats live amongst the Filipinos in these neighborhoods and gain the full flavor of life in the Philippines. Now some of that flavor is constantly crowing roosters and LOUD videoke late into the night, which is another reason why I’ve chosen to live separate and apart. I don’t think I’m better or anything like that, I just want to live a life that is as familiar and comfortable as possible. And yes, I know that means I miss out on some the unique aspects of Filipino culture.
I’m not even adventurous when it comes to local food delicacies. I can name four or five dishes that I’ve at least tried, but none of them stand out as something I crave or desire on a regular basis.
When I eat out it tends to be familiar dishes like these pork chops.And when I cook at home, it’s old favorites like baby back ribs.
Honestly, I don’t even spend a lot of time with Filipino members of the community. My hangouts are all Western oriented with almost no Filipino males around. I interact some with my driver, although his English is very poor. And of course, I enjoy spending time with the friendly Filipina bargirls I encounter.
Who tend to be very warm and welcoming. Of course, that’s their job, but still…
Anyway, those were just some reflections that occurred to me while walking. Living here and being part of the life here are two entirely different things. At this point I have no regrets about my choices and perhaps in time I’ll open myself up more to increased integration within the Filipino community.
Hmm….Well, there’s this…I do maintain a strong belief system!
So, that’s where things stand. I suppose reading between the lines you might discern that I’m not entirely satisfied with my choices, but I’m taking life here one day at a time and keeping an open mind for the next big thing that might come along. Stay tuned!
Life continues apace. I had a good week of walking, averaging over 23,000 steps per day. Given the heat and/or rain that’s not bad.
And of course, yesterday was Hash day. A pretty nice trail from Pubic Head, only one big hill and around 6.5 KMs.
It looked like this. Covered some of the territory I’ve been planning to incorporate into my next trail as a Hare, but I’ll change it up enough to seem new by then.
Pubic Head usually takes lots of Hash photos, but he wasn’t out there with us yesterday, having laid the trail that morning. Here’s the only I took during the trek.
It may look familiar because this is one of the vantage points from “My Bitch” which accounted maybe half of yesterday’s hike.And I did take this selfie on the way back to our “on-home” at Hot Zone. Not sure why I look so angry, I was hot and soaked with sweat but not mad.
Hot Zone is the Grand Master’s bar and probably my least favorite venue for the Hash circle. In fact, we don’t really circle up as there is not enough room to do so. Still, we carry on with the traditional rituals.
Like initiating Hash virgins. Four of them last night. They were all “socialites” (didn’t walk the trail) but seemed to be good sports about it.And of course there were miscreants consigned to sitting on the ice for some infraction or another. In this case Six Pack and Spider Monkey were not wearing Hash attire.
As usual, I consumed my fair share of beer and then walked home in a driving rain storm.
And that’s the life I’m living here in a nutshell.
UPDATE: Adding a photo of Tom Stone, recently deceased. RIP.
Apparently.
Two more expat deaths this week, although I was not personally acquainted with either. I guess it is not to be unexpected when you are living in what is tantamount to a retirement community.
Although this guy was three years younger than me. Not sure of the circumstances of his passing, but may he rest in peace.
Here in the land of the living, I’ve been drafted to serve as the Hare for the July 22 run. I did some preliminary trail scouting today for that event.
The length I walked this afternoon was about right. No major uphills, one moderate downhill. There is a portion that goes through a creek bed. That could be problematic given that we will be in the middle of rainy season. And oh by the way, I did not start my walk out in the waters of Subic Bay. No idea why my tracker says otherwise.The mangoes are ripe and falling off the trees. I nearly got hit upside the head a couple of times…The last time I walked this particular trail was several months ago and Mary wasn’t there then. Really bizarre because this literally is in the middle of nowhere.A view of the valley into which my path was to descend.The cloud cover was nice as it gave some relief from the burning sun rays…
Anyway, I’ve got a month to figure it all out. And now it is almost beer o’clock. Let me leave you with this golden oldie:
An office manager had money problems and had to fire an employee, either Jack or Jill. He thought he’d fire the employee who came to work late.
The next morning, both employees came to work very early. So the manager thought he would fire the first one who took a coffee break. Unfortunately, neither employee took a coffee break.
Then the manager decided to see who took the longest lunch break. Strangely, neither Jack nor Jill took a lunch break that day. They both ate at their desk.
Then the manager thought he’d wait to see who would leave work earliest, but both employees stayed after closing.
Jill finally went to the coat rack and the manager went up to her and said, “Jill, I have a terrible problem. I don’t know whether to lay you or Jack off.”
Jill said, “Well, you’d better jack off, because I’m late for my bus.”
We are both using variations of the Samsung Galaxy phone camera. I think nighttime photos appear blurry in part because it is hard to hold the phone steady long enough to get the full exposure required in limited light. Anyway, I still like both photos.
The women I’ve known I wouldn’t let tie my shoe They wouldn’t give you the time of day But the slit eyed lady knocked me off my feet God I was glad I found her And if they had the words I could tell to you to help you on the way down the road I couldn’t quote you no Dickens, Shelley or Keats ’cause it’s all been said before Make the best out of the bad just laugh it off You didn’t have to come here anyway So remember, every picture tells a story don’t it
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=C8lGVIs2HqE
UPDATE: Well, so much for being original. This is the FIFTH time I’ve used “every picture tells a story” as a post title.
The first time in May 2010 I was lamenting a camera malfunction that erased all the photos I took on a trip to South Carolina.
Then in August 2010 I couldn’t resist mocking the President with this photo:
Pretty much an ordinary day in the life here yesterday. Morning walk, nap, grocery shopping on the old Navy base. Then I had my driver drop me off at the mall in Olongapo City. Wanted to get my eyes examined. It’s been over two years since I got this prescription and sometimes I get eye fatigue when I’m reading on the computer.
I was somewhat taken aback when the salesclerk remembered me from that one time long ago visit. Kinda nice, but a little creepy too. Anyway, after waiting a few minutes I went in to see the optometrist. She spent a good 15 minutes with me and in the end said my corrected vision hadn’t changed since my last exam. That’s cool! Was very surprised when I was told there was no charge. They even repaired the nose pad on my old glasses.
As I exited the mall for the 15 minute walk to catch a Jeepney to Barretto I ran into a woman who looked vaguely familiar…
She was the strong, silent type. Great set of tits though! I’ve always had a soft spot for redheads….
Back in Barretto I decided to quench my thirst at Cheap Charlies. And I couldn’t help but noticing this guy sitting at the bar.
The one in the cap.
Do you see what I saw? It’s a crappy photo but I was trying to be discreet. Eh, fuck it. Let’s try again:
Jesus! Earlobes hanging down to his shoulders! I didn’t talk to the guy, but damn, that must be uncomfortable if not downright painful. Greatest line was one of the bargirls saying it looks like a stretched out vagina!
And how about those crazy eyes? Not sure if he is an expat or a tourist, never seen him around before.
Later I got up to take a piss, looked out the CR (comfort room/restroom) window and saw this:
That’s the biggest damn rat I ever did see. He could probably kick the ass of most cats.
Safely back to my cold beer and window seat. Look down to the street below and see this guy passing by:
It was like being on the set of The Walking Dead...
Anyway, I’m glad to be me. Speaking of which, my blood/urine test results are back. I need to see a doctor for his/her interpretation, but my reading is that all my indicators fall within the normal range. Maybe I’ll live long enough so some fucker can mock my appearance on his blog…
Up early this morning as usual and when I looked out the window I saw a solitary cloud in the sky.
Life is good.
Rows and flows of angel hair And ice cream castles in the air And feather canyons everywhere I’ve looked at clouds that way But now they only block the sun They rain and snow on everyone So many things I would have done But clouds got in my way
I’ve looked at clouds from both sides now From up and down and still somehow It’s cloud’s illusions I recall I really don’t know clouds at all
Moons and Junes and Ferris wheels The dizzy dancing way you feel As every fairy tale comes real I’ve looked at love that way But now it’s just another show You leave ’em laughing when you go And if you care, don’t let them know Don’t give yourself away
I’ve looked at love from both sides now From give and take and still somehow It’s love’s illusions I recall I really don’t know love at all
Tears and fears and feeling proud, To say “I love you” right out loud Dreams and schemes and circus crowds I’ve looked at life that way But now old friends they’re acting strange They shake their heads, they say I’ve changed Well something’s lost, but something’s gained In living every day.
I’ve looked at life from both sides now From win and lose and still somehow It’s life’s illusions I recall I really don’t know life at all
Well, that’s not really fair. Fact is we weren’t on a trail.
One of the characteristics of the Wednesday Walkers that differs from Hashing is that there is no prearranged trail. Usually someone takes the lead and we just see where the path takes us. Except when we lose the path.
This image shows where we went wrong (in red)
And by wrong I mean coming down a steep hillside with no trail whatsoever…we were blazing a new path! And what a path it was. Vines and roots grabbing at the ankles. Vines wrapping around your waist. Ducking under branches only to have vines tangled around your neck. Sometimes all at once. It was a freakin’ nightmare. We all survived without injury although a couple of us were on our ass almost as much as on our feet. But once we had started down no one was willing to try and climb back up. That’s how it goes sometimes I suppose.
It all started out innocently enough.Famous last words “Okay, from the top here it is an easy path down into Marian Hills…”Having survived our ordeal and safely ensconced in the Marian Hills neighborhood, we took a break for lunch…And then continued on our way through the Alta Vista subdivision…Before completing our trek in the traditional way with cold beers at Cheap Charlies…
It was a mostly good day.
And last night I played darts at Alley Cats. I always have low expectations given my penchant for not giving a damn practicing. Surprised myself by taking first place with my partner Gerlie. Undefeated through the winners bracket and took out rivals Steve (who beat me in the MVP) and Alan (who I always enjoy beating). It’s doubles though so I can’t take all the credit. I threw much better than normal as did my partner.
We Hash rain or shine. Yesterday there was a downpour about an hour before the Hash’s scheduled start. But by the time we loaded up in the Hashmobile the rain had stopped. The problem was that the heavy rain obliterated the trail–none of the marks the Hare had worked so hard to place so we could find our way remained after the deluge. Just one of the joys of Hashing in rainy season I suppose.
To his credit, the Hare (Bush Diver) did come out on trail with us so he was able to point out where the intended starting point was. He’s older than me and only a little bit faster so it wasn’t long until we were bringing up the rear. Everyone else just went on ahead and found their own trails.
We started with a 30 minute steep and muddy climb to the top of the mountain. Then we walked the muddy ridge line path before making our way back down. The mud was thick and sticky, it felt like I had an inch worth on the bottom of both shoes. The only way to remove it was to scrape it off. A real pain in the ass. It was steep and slick coming down as well and it resulted in a Hash crash for yours truly. My feet both suddenly slipped out from under me leaving me laying on my back in the mud. Luckily only my pride was hurt.
Once we finally made it down off the mountain I did something for the first time in my Hash career–I hailed a trike to carry me to our on-home at Da’Kudos on Baloy beach. I’d been on trail for an hour and half and I just wasn’t wanting to walk the streets for another 45 minutes caked in mud.
Waiting to get started. That’s Bush Diver under the umbrella.Only ten of us braved the elements and attempted the trail. That’s the fewest I’ve ever seen in in Subic. We had 30 at the circle afterwards, so I guess you could say people voted with their feet. By not using them.Making our way on the muddy road at the top of the mountain.Bush Diver showing us the way down.My dirty shoes…My dirty ass.On-home on the beach at Da’Kudo’s.And when the sun went down the moon came out in all her fullness and glory…
In other news, I was at Lourdes hospital this morning. Weird being there again precisely one week after Greg’s passing. I gave them a blood and urine sample so they can confirm that I’m as good on the inside as I am on the outside. Hopefully.
A bit of a pain in the ass in true Filipino fashion. I went up to the cashier to pay the associated fees of P11,970 ($220) and their credit card machine was unable to make a connection. This required me to take a trike back into town, withdraw funds from an ATM, and trike back to the hospital. Anyway, I took a deep breath, relaxed, and accepted things as they are here.
The sun is shining today so I guess I have no excuse to avoid my afternoon walk. Well, it is hot as hell…
Not much going on that is blog worthy. I’ve been working on the next chapter of my lives within a lifetime series. Hopefully it will be ready tomorrow.
A nice night out yesterday. Ran into some Hashers and enjoyed some good conversation. One guy is actively looking to open a bar and his ideas closely coincide with my thinking on what this town needs. I’d never do it myself but I’m happy to share my enthusiasm with him. He told me he was the one who had come up with the Cheap Charlies concept and actually designed the building where it is located. Took in the current owner as a partner and he screwed him out of the business. That’s his side of the story anyway and none of my concern, but I wish him success in his new endeavor.
Raining everyday now of course. Got a good long walk in this morning on My Bitch but these past couple of days the afternoon has been a no go. Well, we Hash rain or shine so I’m walking today. In fact, it just now started raining again.
Before the storm.
I saw a house on the internet that I like even better than mine.
Not sure I’d like it during a typhoon, but…
And I guess I’ll close this meaningless post on a religious note:
Yeah, I’m big on the concept of time travel. I’d love to go back and fix some past mistakes. And buy stock in Microsoft. Reincarnation, eh, not so much…
Hold on, I guess that what’s called a strategic comma placement.
Anyway, I was surprised to get a message from my dart league captain advising that I’d be representing the Lagoon team in the MVP end of season singles tournament yesterday. I’ve honestly felt like a part time member of the team given my propensity to miss matches due to travel, including the final two weeks of the regular season. Seeing as how I’ve not been practicing (I did play once in Korea) and the MVP features the best player from each league team, I fully expected it would be two and done for me (it’s a double elimination format).
Well, I won by forfeit in the first round because my opponent didn’t show. In the second round I faced Alan who plays out of Alley Cats and is someone I’ve had some non-dart related issues with in the past. He’s a good darter though and given my lack of practice I didn’t expect to beat him. I got lucky in the first leg of 501 as Alan struggled long enough with the double out to allow me to catch up and eventually win the game. The second leg was Cricket, which I consider my better game. I don’t throw any better in a Cricket game but I understand the nuances of strategy and sometimes beat superior players because of that. Well, despite taking an early lead I wound up losing the leg. Alan won the coin flip and chose Cricket again which pleased me just fine. This time I stayed on my game and won the leg and the match handily.
So I advanced to the finals of the winner’s bracket and had to face Steve, an Englishman who is relatively new in town. Of course the English have a dart playing gene and Steve is an excellent player. And he does not drink alcoholic beverages, which is almost heresy in a bar league. I’d equate it to those biological males who identify as female and compete in women’s competitions. So yeah, that’s my excuse for getting my ass kicked in two legs.
Back to the loser’s bracket where I eventually faced off against Alan again. Almost identical results, me winning the third cricket leg to take the match. Which put me in the finals against Steve. And he once again completely dominated me. Ah well, a second place finish was much more than I expected. Will I be motivated to get off my lazy ass and practice so that perhaps one day I might actually beat Steve? Stay tuned!
The MVP singles lineup. I do stand out in a crowd, don’t I? Oh, the tournament was played at the local VFW, hence the American flag…
In other news it appears that rainy season is upon us. We’ve had rain for the past couple of days and nights, including a downpour just before I was to head out for the dart tourney. I almost said “fuck it” and stayed home but decided since I’d been asked to represent the team I should follow through.
I’m still shocked that in a country where it rains a lot there is such poor drainage. The streets were like rivers last night which is a real pain in the ass. And while it didn’t rain this morning during my walk, many of the streets were covered in mud from last night’s flooding. Oh well, that’s life in the Philippines. It’s still hot too, but at least with some cloud cover you can avoid the direct sunlight. And as I type these words the thunder is rolling once again. My afternoon hike may be in peril.
Continuing on with the theme of yesterday’s post, I remembered a song while I was responding to comments: “Is that all there is?”. It’s funny in a way because it was a big hit for Peggy Lee in 1969, but I don’t recall ever having heard it until I watched some obscure movie from 2007 called The Nines. Anyway, I think the song pretty accurately captures the way I feel at times. Hell, maybe we all do. But if one is striving to live in the moment it seems unreasonable to expect every moment to be full of wonder and excitement.
And whether my beer is half-full or half-empty I’m fully prepared to say “one more please!”.
I remember when I was a very little girl, our house caught on fire I’ll never forget the look on my father’s face as he gathered me up in his arms and raced through the burning building out to the pavement I stood there shivering in my pajamas and watched the whole world go up in flames And when it was all over I said to myself, is that all there is to a fire
Is that all there is, is that all there is If that’s all there is my friends, then let’s keep dancing Let’s break out the booze and have a ball If that’s all there is
And when I was twelve years old, my father took me to a circus, the greatest show on earth There were clowns and elephants and dancing bears And a beautiful lady in pink tights flew high above our heads And so I sat there watching the marvelous spectacle I had the feeling that something was missing I don’t know what, but when it was over I said to myself, “is that all there is to a circus?
Is that all there is, is that all there is If that’s all there is my friends, then let’s keep dancing Let’s break out the booze and have a ball If that’s all there is
Then I fell in love, head over heels in love, with the most wonderful boy in the world We would take long walks by the river or just sit for hours gazing into each other’s eyes We were so very much in love Then one day he went away and I thought I’d die, but I didn’t and when I didn’t I said to myself, is that all there is to love?
Is that all there is, is that all there is If that’s all there is my friends, then let’s keep dancing
I know what you must be saying to yourselves If that’s the way she feels about it why doesn’t she just end it all? Oh, no, not me I’m in no hurry for that final disappointment for I know just as well as I’m standing here talking to you when that final moment comes and I’m breathing my first breath, I’ll be saying to myself
Is that all there is, is that all there is If that’s all there is my friends, then let’s keep dancing Let’s break out the booze and have a ball If that’s all there is
Most men and women lead lives at the worst so painful, at the best so monotonous, poor and limited that the urge to escape, the longing to transcend themselves if only for a few moments, is and has always been one of the principal appetites of the soul.” –Aldous Huxley
Interestingly (to me), I first posted the above quote on this date four years ago. And it still resonates. I’m not sure if that is an indication that I’m stuck in a rut or that Mr. Huxley’s thought is a universal truth on the meaning (meaninglessness?) of life. Anyway, I like it.
The quote was good fodder for thought as I did my morning walk. My life here is better than the life I left behind, no question about that. But there is no denying the repetitiveness of my daily routines is indeed monotonous and leaves my soul hungry for meaningfulness. Now, I don’t mean to say I’m in despair or that I’m living a life of quiet desperation. Far from it. But the recent death within my small circle here is a stark reminder that I need to get off my ass and make the best of whatever time remains for me in this life.
The mass of men lead lives of quiet desperation. What is called resignation is confirmed desperation. From the desperate city you go into the desperate country, and have to console yourself with the bravery of minks and muskrats. A stereotyped but unconscious despair is concealed even under what are called the games and amusements of mankind. There is no play in them, for this comes after work. But it is a characteristic of wisdom not to do desperate things.
Henry David Thoreau
For some reason I got to thinking about some of the training sessions the government wasted money on saw fit to send me to during the course of my 35 year career in Uncle Sam’s service. Many of these would include some type of “inspirational” segment where an overpaid speaker would presumably motivate us to greatness through the power of their words.
One that I recall involved a theme of “don’t sweat the small stuff”. The speaker drew a time line on his whiteboard with annotations for birth at one end and death at the other. He said being born and dying are big things. And everything in between is the small stuff. Well, I’m not sure how valuable that insight was but I do remember it all these years later. And yeah, I do try and remind myself that in the grand scheme of things my “problems” don’t amount to much of anything. As one Filipina friend told me “I worry everyday about how I’m going to feed my kids. And you complain because some woman hurt your feelings? You are blessed.”
Another training I recall had a more practical work application. It talked about manager’s getting bogged down by striving for perfection in their own work or in that of their subordinates. You can spend hours re-working a memo written for your signature or you can accept that the memo as written serves its intended purpose. The word the instructor used for this concept was “satisfices”. At least as a government manager, I found that satisfices was nearly always good enough. These days when I consider my life I can acknowledge it is perhaps not all it could be but I can also accept that it satisfices. It could certainly be much, much worse, that’s for sure.
And then I remembered a short story by Ernest Hemingway I read way back when in a literature class in college. It was called “A Clean Well-Lighted Place” and it was a story about nothing and the nothingness of life. I just did a search and saw that back in December 2006 I was also channeling this story. Funny how that works. And damn, in October 2014 the story was speaking to me once again. This was during that period where Jee Yeun first declined to return to the USA with me. I didn’t know it then of course, but that proved to be the beginning of the end for us. Anyway, here is one analysis of Hemingway’s story:
A Clean, Well Lighted Place” is Hemingway’s paean to a type of existential nihilism, an exploration of the meaning, or lack thereof, of existence. It clearly expresses the philosophy that underlies the Hemingway canon, dwelling on themes of death, futility, meaninglessness, and depression. Through the thoughts and words of a middle-aged Spanish waiter, Hemingway encapsulates the main tenet of his existential philosophy. Life is inherently meaningless and leads inevitably to death, and the older one gets, the clearer these truths become and the less able one is to impose any kind of order on one’s existence or maintain any kind of positivity in one’s outlook.
Here’s another, which strikes me as a little more scholarly. I wonder what ever happened to the paper I wrote for course credit? Apparently it didn’t make it to the internet. Anyway, A Clean Well-Lighted Place is not exactly the story of my life. At least not yet! But I like it. If you have not read it, you can have it read to you. Takes less than ten minutes and I deem it to be time well spent!
This post really went off in a weird direction, didn’t it? Anyway, despite appearances I’m doing fine and I am optimistic I’ll be doing even finer in the days to come.
It was all nothing, and a man was nothing, too…Some lived in it and never felt it but he knew it was nada y pues nada y pues nada. Our nada who art in nada nada be thy name thy kingdom nada thy will be nada in nada as it is in nada. Give us this nada our daily nada and nada us our nada as we nada our nadas and nada us not into nada but deliver us from nada; pues nada. Hail nothing full of nothing, nothing is with thee…
Or perhaps more appropriately, the city of soiled doves.
I don’t like Angeles City but in a perverse kind of way it’s good to periodically have a short visit there just to remind myself why. And as an added bonus it makes Barrio Barretto so much more appealing.
I blew into town yesterday for a brief overnight stay. I had made an impulsive decision to attend a dance contest in AC featuring the Hot Zone dancers, a bar owned by the Grand Master of Subic Hash.
It was good to see that the powers that be saw fit to honor me with a star on the Walking Street hall of shame.
Upon arrival I went out in search of something to eat. And seeing as how roughly half the signage in the area was in Hangul, I figured I couldn’t go wrong with Korean food. I settled on a place in the lobby of the W hotel on Walking Street which featured some street side tables. That proved to be a mistake.
One of my pet peeves in AC is the beggars and street vendors. And from the moment I sat down it seemed that every other passerby was either asking for money or trying sell me something I didn’t need. A lot of the beggars were young kids, but damn it, I wasn’t about to reward their unacceptable behavior of interrupting a man’s meal. There’s a time and a place, even for charity.
The food service was also spotty. The waitress forgot to bring my beer. And came back to say my dwaeji galbi was “not available”. I pressed her on how a Korean restaurant could be out of galbi and she replied that it was “still marinating”. Whatever. I had some bulgogi and samgyupsal, both of which were mediocre. Oh well.
I had some time to kill before the dance competition began at Insomnia Bar, so I sat down at a little outdoor bar next door. Had a few drinks and some nice chat with a bargirl there named Rona. What caught my eye about her was she had a fair skinned face with Western features and what appeared to be sexy legs under the short and flowing skirt she was wearing. When she got up to fetch a drink though I noticed one of her legs was deformed and quite a bit shorter than the other one. I’m not sure why but I felt a great deal of admiration for her perseverance. Rona told me she had lived in Barretto briefly a couple of years ago with her Aussie boyfriend and returned to AC after the relationship ended. And she claims to remember me from one of my long ago visits to AC. She pointed out where I had been seated, and since this was only the third time I can recall being at this bar and I had in fact sat there one time, perhaps she was right. Anyway, she was pleasant company.
Then it was on to Insomnia. Place was packed a full hour before the show and I was lucky to get a seat next to the dance floor (I prefer to sit further back). There were a few other guys I recognized who made the trip down from Barretto as well. To be honest, the actual competition was a disappointment. Alaska Bar did the same old tired routine I had seen numerous times and their girls just are not very attractive. Hot Zone has some hot dancers and did a sexy routine that was nice to watch. But the Insomnia gals were by far superior to their competitors. I didn’t even stick around for the judging.
This is a horrible photo that doesn’t do the Insomnia girl or the costume justice. But it’s the only one I took.
I walked back to the hotel, had a banana split, then went to bed. Up early this morning and my driver (he spent the night in his car) was having coffee and waiting for me.
Back to Barretto and it’s been a rainy day here. So no walking for me today, but I did have a nice long nap. I’ll get after those steps again tomorrow I reckon.
Before I knew Greg was ill I had planned on visiting Alley Cats on Tuesday afternoon to throw darts and hand out pasalubong (souvenirs) from my trip to Korea. Greg would normally be there for the tourney as well, but of course this time his only presence was in the form of a donation box to help fund his funeral expenses. It did put a damper on my mood and I was too late to play (having made a second trip to the hospital) so I just sat and watched the competition. Well, sat and drank beer while I watched that is.
So, sitting at the table next to me was Greg’s buddy Patrick. We did our usual small talk and I couldn’t help but wonder to myself why I hadn’t seen him at the hospital. He was certainly much closer to Greg than I was. But not my business and no big deal to me. When the tourney was completed I bought all the girls working a round of drinks. I was having my own private wake for Greg in a way I thought he might appreciate. It also meant I had five gals sitting with me at my table which facilitated handing out the pasabulong (mostly trinkets like key chains and pens).
Marissa had also gone to the hospital and was actually with Irene (Greg’s girlfriend) when the doctor announced that Greg was dead. It was good that she was there to provide some comfort. Anyway, Irene apparently did her goodbyes, hugging and kissing the corpse. And in something that I assume is a Filipino thing, posing for pictures with the body. Me, I don’t even like to attend funerals. My preference is to remember the living person, not viewing the remains.
So Marissa had joined us at my table and was speaking in Tagalog with the girls. And then she started showing them pictures of the dead Greg. I didn’t want to see that so I turned my head. Patrick did see and he went nuts. Started shouting that’s sick, who does that, that’s fucked up, and he kept at for a good long time. I finally turned to him and said “I don’t like it either, but it’s a Filipino thing, so just don’t look”. Nope, he kept right on shouting and making disparaging remarks about Marissa for having the audacity to photograph Greg (at the girlfriends insistence). I’d finally had enough and told Patrick to shut the fuck up. If you don’t like Filipino ways, go somewhere else. That was enough to get him to direct his ire at me, which is fine.
Now Patrick is a useless drunk. He comes to Alley Cats everyday in the early afternoon and drinks until he can barely walk. I don’t give a shit about that, he’s just another pathetic loser in my book. I mean, the guy is probably close to my age and has a young Filipina wife and a two year old child. Again, to each his own but who knowingly fathers a child at that age? And if it was an accident, who doesn’t know better at that age? Regardless, given his lifestyle choices it is very doubtful Patrick will live long enough to see the child reach double digits in age. About all I can say on his behalf is that he did at least make sure his kid attained U.S. citizenship.
Another thing I dislike about Patrick is that he is a chickenshit coward. There’s a guy named Rudy who is in his late seventies and his girlfriend is the sister of Patrick’s wife. Now, I don’t know the story, but for whatever reason Patrick doesn’t like Rudy at all. On the occasions when Rudy is at Alley Cats for darts, Patrick taunts him and mocks him. Rudy does his best to ignore it but it is really a disgusting behavior to witness. I of course mind my own business and never say anything, but as I mentioned, it is just a chickenshit thing to do.
So, Patrick is all up in my face. I stand up and tell him “I’m not Rudy, asshole. If you want to fuck with me, bring it on! He started backing away and I’m all “come on motherfucker, let’s see how tough you really are”. About this time the girls at my table grabbed me and pulled me away. Punk ass Patrick was backing away towards the door. Finally the girls hustled me off to the other side of the bar and admonished me “you are better than him. Don’t lower yourself to his level”. I nodded and calmed myself down.
I think they were all surprised. I very rarely get that out of control upset. I can probably attribute my behavior to being a bit emotional over Greg’s death and not willing to let a lowlife like Patrick talk down to me or my friends. That and the beers I had consumed. Regardless, I sincerely doubt that he’ll make the mistake of challenging me again. The girls were right though. I am better than him and he’s not worth the trouble.
To reiterate, I too think it is fucked up to photograph the dead. I wouldn’t do it. And I might say to someone who does it “I think that’s fucked up”. But I wouldn’t go on and on about it nor would I insult that person in a personal manner. But for all his so-called outrage and offense, I can only say that Patrick didn’t care enough to visit his friend while he was actually still alive in the hospital. So fuck him.
I bought the girls another round of drinks and then I ordered us up some food (chicken wings, chicken fingers, shanghai lumpia, and of course, rice) from Sit-n-Bull’s delivery service). After we all ate till we were full I ordered a final round of drinks and my personal wake concluded without further incident.
Interestingly, this photo from one year ago popped up this morning in the Facebook memories feature:
The girl wearing the shirt is Meica who was also seated at my table last night. I just wish I had remembered those words. It would have been a perfect rejoinder to Patrick’s loud mouth. Also of interest in this photo is that the man in the background is the recently deceased Greg.
Anyway, that was yesterday. This afternoon I’m heading down to Angeles City for the night. Two Barretto bars are competing in a dance competition there and I’m going cheer for my hometown teams. Probably just as well that I get out of town for a few hours and get my head back on straight.
Peace out!
UPDATE: My oh my, I see I used the “Aftermath” title once before. On October 31, 2017. The aftermath in that post was the carnage that resulted from Loraine fucking me over. Today’s aftermath is much, much easier to deal with, that’s for sure.
It was also great to read Kevin’s supportive comment again and remembering the Hindu concept of samsara he explained. As strange as it may seem, I do believe I am making progress. Perhaps in a two steps forward, one step back kind of way, but progress regardless.
Some sad news to report. A guy I know pretty well is currently on life support in the ICU at Lourdes hospital here in Barretto. I wrote an unflattering post about him back in September last year. We haven’t had a recurrence of that drama since then and actually have gotten along pretty well on those occasions we’ve been in the same place at the same time. Greg’s big problem has always been the drinking, or more specifically, the way he acts when he’s been drinking to excess. And that’s pretty much all the time.
Anyway, his lifestyle appears to have caught up with him. It really came as no surprise that the life threatening issues he faces primarily involve the liver. His girlfriend texted me last night that the doctor said he had a “50-50” chance to recover. This morning when I went to the hospital to visit he was in a coma. The girlfriend has been in contact with Greg’s mother who understandably wants to wait a few days before pulling the plug. This afternoon the girlfriend asked me for some money to purchase blood platelets the doctor suggested so perhaps not all hope is lost. Still, it doesn’t look good at all.
It’s really a shame though. Greg is only 44. He retired after twenty years in the military and has been living here on his pension these past four years. And getting drunk most every night. Unlike me, Greg does hard liquor, often straight shots. I drink light/low alcohol beer exclusively and only rarely get drunk drunk. Comparatively speaking, my liver is not being similarly abused. Or so at least I keep telling myself.
When I first heard from Greg’s girlfriend my thought was to get him the hell out of here to an American hospital as soon as possible. Obviously he is in no condition to travel but it wouldn’t matter anyway because I was informed that Greg lost his passport two years ago! Who does that and doesn’t bother getting it replaced? When I asked about his visa status the girlfriend said “he’s an overstay”. Yep, that figures. If he recovers he’s going to face some pretty sever reckoning with the Bureau of Immigration. They’ll lock him up until he can be deported but he can’t be repatriated without a passport. What a mess he has made of his life.
The girlfriend is doing her best to hold things together and be there for Greg. I admire her for that. But she is broke and so is Greg. The road ahead for her is going to be very difficult whatever happens. I guess this situation puts my recent whining about having sad memories in perspective, doesn’t it?
Ah well. Life goes on until it doesn’t. In the interim the best we can do is embrace the small pleasures that really do surround us. Like these guys:
Lucky and Buddy keeping an eye on the neighborhood from the living room porch.Apparently it is tiring work being a watchdog…
UPDATE: Greg died this afternoon. May his soul rest in peace.
Mama, put my guns in the ground I can’t shoot them anymore That long black cloud is comin’ down I feel I’m knockin’ on heaven’s door
Just like General MacArthur, I have come back to the Philippines. It’s nitty and gritty, it’s dirty and pretty. And I like it. It’s good to be back home where I belong.
But damn, it’s hot!
Walked through the front door just before 3 a.m. and Buddy didn’t know what to make of it. I saw him looking out the window as I exited the car, and as I approached he took off upstairs. When I opened the door I saw him peeking down through the handrails. He got a glimpse of me and came back down to investigate. About this time my driver walked in and Buddy growled out him like he usually does. I told him “it’s okay Buddy” and I guess he recognized my voice because he came up and gave me a sniff just to be sure it was me. Once convinced, he went nuts, running in circles and whining, then standing on his hind legs and giving me hugs while I rubbed his back. He’s a sweet boy, that’s for sure.
Lucky had been out in the back yard and he was happy to see me (or to be let into the house) but was much more reserved around me, which is normal for him.
My domestic helpers were upstairs asleep of course, and soon enough so was I. I unpacked this morning, walked the dogs, and then walked myself for another hour. And of course this afternoon I’ve got the Hash. The notorious Leech My Nuggets is the Hare so I know I’m in for some punishment.
And damn it’s hot!
But hey it’s good to be back home again.
There will be another song for me For I will sing it There will be another dream for me Someone will bring it I will drink the wine while it is warm And never let you catch me looking at the sun And after all the loves of my life After all the loves of my life You’ll still be the one
I will take my life into my hands and I will use it I will win the worship in their eyes and I will lose it I will have the things that I desire And let passion flow like rivers through the sky And after all the loves of my life Oh, after all the loves of my life I’ll be thinking of you And wondering why
And just like that it was over. The vacation I mean. Now I’m in the purgatory that is Incheon airport killing the long hours before my flight at 9:55 p.m.
But I’m killing those hours in style. For the first time ever I’ve booked myself a room at a transit hotel.
It’s actually similar in size to some regular hotels I’ve stayed in. This one reminds me of the Spartan, but functional, Red Planet hotel.And I’ve never had a room with this kind of view, that’s for sure. $60 buks for six hours.
Had a Taco Bell lunch and I reckon I’ll kill some time with a nice nap before my 8:30 check-out time.
My last night in Seoul was reminiscent of many nights I’ve enjoyed over the years. As is my custom I started out at Shenanigans where I was joined by my nephew Justin and my friend Becky. We sat at the window and enjoyed the people watching on the street below while quaffing our brews. Later on Justin and I wandered over to Scrooge Pub so I could say a final goodbye to the owner there, a sexy Korean lass.
Had a little incident there though. Some guy (sounded Aussie) a couple of chairs down the bar from me told me not to smoke in the bar. I gave my standard response of “I’m not smoking, I’m vaping”. He said “I don’t care, it smells like shit, take it outside”. So, I’d been drinking but I managed to maintain my self control and simply responded “You don’t tell me what to do, if the owner wants me to go outside she can tell me”. He got the owner’s attention and she told him “e-cigarette is okay here”. So that was that. But I really hate assholes like that. If he had been polite about it bothering him I likely would have moved to the other side of the bar. But fuck him.
After Scrooge, we went to another bar (JJ’s) where I said some more goodbyes. And then I ended the night at the oldest bar in Itaewon, the Grand Ole Opry. The bar has been featured here at LTG several times over the years, including the story about my first visit in April 2005. It was funny re-reading that post just now, especially the comments from ex-wife #3 and one from my now deceased father.
In another example of the bar’s timelessness, last night’s waitress was the same woman who was working there when I first visited all those years ago. Back then there were lots of folks (including Koreans) who would be out on the dance floor doing some good ol’ country dancing. I was drunk and had the urge to get my two steppin’ on so I asked the waitress if she’d dance with me in exchange for a drink. She responded ok, but just one dance. And so we did and it was fun (at least for me). Afterwards I mentioned all the good times I had over the years and she surprised me with “yeah, but you were always bringing other girls to dance with”. Well, damn.
Anyway, stumbled back to the hotel shortly thereafter, slept late (for me), did a McDonald’s breakfast, read Kevin’s post about our lunch, then packed up and caught the Airport Limo out to Incheon. And here I sit reminiscing over the life I’m finally putting behind me.
It’s been quite a ride, wouldn’t have missed it for the world.
The life ahead of me includes my two loving dogs. And I’ll be home in time to make tomorrow’s Hash. I’m ready.
I reckon I’m probably above average in both categories.
Our paths may never cross again Maybe my heart will never mend But I’m glad for all the good times Cause you’ve brought me so much sunshine And love was the best it’s ever been
I wouldn’t have missed it for the world Wouldn’t have missed loving you girl You’ve made my whole life worth while, with your smile I wouldn’t trade one memory Cause you mean too much to me Even though I lost you girl I wouldn’t have missed it for the world
They say that all good things must end Loves comes and goes just like the wind You’ve got your dreams to follow But if I had the chance tomorrow You know I’d do it all again
I wouldn’t have missed it for the world Wouldn’t have missed loving you girl You’ve made my whole life worth while, with your smile I wouldn’t trade one memory Cause you mean too much to me Even though I lost you girl I wouldn’t have missed it for the world
Oh I wouldn’t trade one memory Cause you mean too much to me Even though I lost you girl I wouldn’t have missed it for the world
I wouldn’t have missed it for the world Wouldn’t have missed loving you girl You’ve made my whole life worth while, with your smile I wouldn’t trade one memory Cause you mean too much to me Even though I lost you girl I wouldn’t have missed it for the world
At a reader’s request here I am this morning in front of my former home and castle, Star Palace.
Today I left Anjeong-ri, most likely for the final time. I think I’ve made my peace with the past now and it is time to move on to whatever the future may hold.
As last days go, yesterday was a good one. Or good enough at least. A former employee of mine took off work early to spend the afternoon with me. I will admit upfront that I’ve been crushing on this woman for a long time, but as a subordinate she was strictly off limits. That’s not the case now so I was excited to see what she had in mind. I know the fantasies I concocted ran the gamut from an innocent lunch to a pornographic sexual encounter. The reality turned out to be fully clothed yet oddly satisfying.
We went to a park outside Pyeongtaek city. A very nice park actually. One I’d never heard of or seen.
It was a riverside park and featured many water-centered attractions like these un- gilded lilies.And this stony old fisherman waiting an eternity for a bite.
So we walked and we talked, we shared some laughs. And little by little we began to open up to each other about our feelings.
Be careful what you wish for…
We sat on a bench, held hands, and spoke about what was in our hearts. I told her this moment was what I had been missing the most–some genuine shared intimacy. It felt so good and right and natural. And then she said those words. “I love you…like a brother.” And you know, I’m okay with that. We do not share the same destiny but I’m glad she was a part of my life here. She will always have a special place in my heart and I will not forget how I felt as sat beside her in the park. A good reminder of what I hope to find for my own someday.
After the park we shared dinner with a couple other co-workers, hugged, and said our goodbyes.
I went back to my hotel and shortly thereafter received a message from Mi Young (the woman who had stood me up the night before) asking where I was. Seems she thought we had agreed to reschedule our date. Ah well, why not? So we met at a Mexican place she likes. I told I had just eaten, but we shared some appetizers. Mi Young has been involved in an animal rescue shelter here for the past few years. Pretty much to the exclusion of everything else, including me. I did provide some assistance in spreading the word on social media which resulted in quite a few volunteers joining the effort and providing her some much needed assistance. My tentative efforts to woo her romantically were rebuffed however. I think last night was her effort to express her regrets. Anyway, I will always admire her and hope she will find some balance in her life. She’s a good woman.
And after that I did the rounds and said my goodbyes to my barfriends at Crystal, Ariang, Hot Top, and Horse and Cow. Then I stumbled on home.
Up early to catch the train to Seoul. Met up with the nephew, Won Jun and Beckie at JJ’s bar where they were watching basketball. Then me and Justin were joined by the esteemed Kevin Kim for a Brazilian steak house lunch at Tabom Brazil.
The food was good, but not as good as the conversation. Thanks, Kev!
After lunch we said our goodbyes and I did a little pasalubong shopping. In the Philippines it is a tradition that you bring some gifts for your friends back home after traveling. Well, they are cheap ass souvenir trinkets, but I reckon they’ll do.
And now I’m just about done. One more Saturday night in Itaewon. Time to get started.
Those times I waited for you seem so long ago I wanted you far too much to ever let you go You know I never got by, “I feel it too” And I guess I never could stand to lose It’s such a pity to say Goodbye to you Goodbye to you
It’s no secret that I’ve been unhappy for most of my trip here. The real question in my mind is “why?”. As I’ve been retracing the steps I’ve taken on roads and trails when I called this town home I have endeavored to recall what I was thinking and feeling at that time. And yes, I was unhappy then for the most part as well.
Lots of time for thinking about things on walks like the one I took this morning.
When I moved to Anjeong-ri in May 2017 I expected to leave in September. My goal had been to see Eighth Army through the transition from Yongsan to Humphreys and then re-retire. After some arm twisting from my staff and 8A leadership I consented to stay on through May of 2018. I didn’t make the move down south without bringing some baggage along with me. And I acquired some more after I arrived.
Seoul is one of my favorite cities and the only place I had ever lived in Korea. Anjeong-ri is little more than a country village with a bunch of bars that cater to young soldiers. Admittedly I also had a bad attitude due in large part to a succession of failed relationships. But as I’ve been walking here this week I’ve come to realize I’ve been unfair and never really gave this town a chance. The problem it seems was not where I was, rather it was about who I was during that period of time. My mindset of “I can’t wait to get out of this burg” permeated nearly all my thoughts and prevented me from accepting things for what they are and making the best of my time here.
That attitude poisoned any chance of my being happy during that time. I didn’t pursue relationships because I thought I had my future secured with Loraine at my side. When she proved to be unworthy of my love and trust I was so devastated as to be blinded to other opportunities that presented themselves. Eva was one of those. I had lunch with Donna, my former Deputy, the other day and she asked about Eva. When I told her we had basically parted ways she chided me for being so foolish. Donna said when she say us together she could tell how much Eva cared for me and how our interactions appeared so natural and loving. Hmm. Anyway, after that conversation I did send Eva a message apologizing for treating her unkindly. She responded with graciousness and relayed the happy news that she had finally found the true love she had been searching for. I of course wished them well.
I see things a little differently now I suppose. Certainly nothing wrong with Anjeong-ri. It has its charm and its own kind of beauty. In fact, in many ways it is not unlike my new hometown of Barrio Barretto. Well, the foreigners living there are all as old as dirt of course, but the small town friendliness is the same. I’ve honestly been surprised that so many people I interacted with in the past still remember me and seem genuinely happy to see me. And it’s not just the bargirls, thank you very much. For example, today I got a haircut and the barber nearly dropped her scissors she was so surprised to see me. Welcomed me back, asked about life in the Philippines, and just made me feel warm with kindness. I laughed when she mentioned how much happier I look now compared to when she last saw me. And oh yeah, almost everyone comments on my brownness and how much weight I’ve lost.
The sign on my barber shop. I must be ugly.
Tonight I have a dinner “date” with Mi Young, the woman who first got me involved in animal rescue with the shelter she’s devoted her life to here. My support was financial, not the sweat and toil she puts into it. Anyway, the “date” is in quotes because after the Loraine fiasco I tried to pursue elevating our friendship to the next level. That turned out to be a bridge too far. I suppose because by then I was such a short timer here it made no sense to her to get involved with the likes of me. Plus I’m 20-some years older than her. Anyway, she contacted me and suggested dinner and I readily accepted the offer so we shall see.
Tomorrow afternoon I’m meeting up with one of my former employees. It was her idea and is probably innocent. But truthfully I always had a crush on her and obviously as the boss I could never act on it. Now, no such restrictions apply! Again, I’m probably getting carried away with my fantasies, but even if I only get to eat some Korean that’s good enough. Er, I mean, Korean food of course!
Yesterday I met a new girl working in The Wall bar. Just arrived from the Philippines two weeks ago. From Manila. Unusually smart and articulate. How do I know she’s smart? Well, when I was showing her photos of my dogs (she’s a dog lover too) on the blog she asked “is that your website? Will you give me the URL so I can read it? Shit, maybe she’s reading this post! Oh well. Anyway, she’s also a musician and she came to Korea to work for one year so she can send her teenage daughter to a better school. Well, I only talked to her for an hour or so, but still I was thinking if she had arrived while I was here she might have been a game changer. Sometimes it’s all about timing I suppose. But we are hooked up on Facebook now and if she does remain single and does in fact return to the the PI (two BIG ifs) it could possibly be, well, it could be something. Perhaps. Time is a bitch though.
Alright, that’s probably enough. My point is that I’ve come to realize it’s all about attitude and making the best of things as they are, not as how you wish them to be. And writing that makes it all seem so obvious but I had to walk a helluva lot of steps to figure that out. Now I can focus on remembering this new perspective.
Yeah, that’s what I’m talking about!
Let me close out this post with some photos:
Everyone at my old office was really excited that a Texas Roadhouse had opened on base. So I took them to lunch there. Everyone seemed to enjoy the meal. I know I did…
You know, I just recalled writing a post in February 2018 called “Sorrow Floats” Give it a read to get a real time feel of just how much I didn’t like living in Anjeong-ri. In that post I talked about three new businesses that had recently opened and I predicted their imminent demise.
One of those was Pippi Burger and it has indeed now closed. I’m happy to report that I was wrong about the other two mentioned in that post. They are open anyway. Can’t say I’ve seen many customers in them this trip though.
Oh, and that tall building in the background is where I am staying this trip. It’s called Hotel Joy (haha) and was brand new when I left last year. Fully booked this week, so good for them!And finally, Facebook reminds me that it was three years ago today that I shaved off my mustache. Thought you’d want to know.
Okay, I am feeling better about things. Also, I am very much looking forward to going back home on Sunday. My dogs miss me!
