So, the other day I did a Google search of my name. Yeah, I was that bored. It had been awhile but there wasn’t much new I hadn’t seen before. Well, it was a little shocking to see that one of those “find me” sites said I was 91 years old and still living in Lexington, SC. The other thing I found interesting and/or amusing was a blog called Joyful Public Speaking (from fear to joy), written by one Richard I. Garber, who back in March referenced a post of mine from 2010 about diversity training. Specifically, the term “flip” and its offensiveness to Filipinos.
Here’s what he cited:
A 2010 web article by John McCrarey titled Concerning Diversity Training had the following discussion: “Anyway, as an example of insensitivity the instructor solemnly informed us that the visual aid commonly referred to as a ‘flip chart’ was offensive. Seriously. You see, ‘flip’ is a derogatory term applied to Filipinos. And so according to the trainer we should henceforth call the flip chart a rip chart.
To our credit, we didn’t let the trainer get away without asking some clarifying questions. Like, it is wrong to ‘flip a coin’? Is it permissible to ‘flip through the pages of a book’? Or how about if someone cuts you off in traffic–can you ‘flip them the finger’? Yeah, it’s true. We were certainly being ‘flip’ about the subject.”
Heh, indeed that was one of my finer moments. And I was in good company because the next reference in Garber’s post is from Jordan Peterson, as quoted by the New York Times. The Times being the Times it is unflattering of course, calling Peterson the “custodian of the patriarchy”. I’ll just call him “my hero”!
I’m always honored when someone links to my blog, whether it brings me any new readers or not. And it seemed like the least I could do was leave Garber a comment. And this is what I said:
HaHa! I just did a Google search of my name and found a link to your blog citing a post I made referencing “flip charts”. A belated thank you for the mention.
I actually live in the Philippines now. I certainly would never call any of my neighbors a “Flip”. I still wouldn’t have a problem referring to a “flip chart” in the context of a presentation board. But since I’m retired now I doubt I’ll have the need.
Here’s a funny anecdote: A web forum where I’m a member automatically corrects any usage of the term “flip” to Filipino. So, were I to type “everyone here wears flip flop shoes”, it becomes “Filipino flops”. Cracks me up every time. And by the way, do you know what Filipinos call that type of shoe? You guessed it–flip flops.
You gotta laugh.
So, if any of y’all think my using the term flip in the context of a flip chart is offensive, well, all I can say is I don’t give a flip.
Bobbie McLane was the Human Resources Director, my first boss as a member of management, and a great mentor. I needed that, because I was pretty much clueless.
How clueless? This clueless: After I had applied for the safety job but before I was interviewed, there was a labor-management meeting scheduled up in Fayetteville. Bobbie came down to my work station and asked if I’d like to ride to the meeting with her. I politely declined. I mean, after all, I was the union steward; I didn’t want it to appear I was cavorting with management! A bit later, Bobbie’s secretary came to see me and asked me “John, don’t you want the safety job?” I told her of course I did. She gave me a look that said “are you really that stupid?” but the words she used were “Bobbie wanted you to ride with her so she could get to know you better and talk about the job”. Oh shit! Well, I made sure I was seated with Bobbie for lunch and a few days later it was announced that I had been selected as the Fort Smith, Arkansas Management Sectional Center (MSC) Safety Specialist.
I was actually quite surprised to have been picked because I had absolutely zero background or training in safety. I had met with Bobbie numerous times in my union capacity and she told me she picked me for the safety job because she liked the way I handled myself in those meetings. I guess that just goes to prove that sometimes it’s not what you know, but who you know. And that’s not always a bad thing.
So that first year I spent several weeks at the Postal Service training facility in Potomac, MD learning how to do my job. Most of the courses were two or three weeks in duration, which gave me a good opportunity to explore DC on weekends, a city I had never previously visited. I wound up doing quite a bit of traveling, and I came to enjoy meeting women the perks associated with traveling on the government dime. I’m just now recalling a wild time an important meeting in Chicago. And in kind of a weird turn of events, I was attending an accident investigation course in Norman, Oklahoma on the day the space shuttle Challenger exploded.
One of the nice things about working in a small MSC (consisting of around 100 post offices in Northwest Arkansas) was that I was given the opportunity to take on additional duties and fill various voids that were not staffed. For example, I was designated as the MSC Public Affairs Officer, where I answered media inquires and dealt with disgruntled customers. It was pretty cool to come home from work one day and have my kids excitedly tell me “daddy, we saw you on TV today!”.
Bobbie started having me write her grievance decisions as well and once she was satisfied that I was firmly in management’s camp I became her designee for dealing with the union. It was strange at first to be arguing over labor disputes from a management perspective, but I reasoned it was really just about interpreting the words in the collective bargaining agreement.
Labor relations work was what I liked best so I started applying for labor vacancies all over the country. I got interviewed for a job in Charleston, SC and selected for one in Columbia, SC. So I loaded up my family (had a new wife now) and made the move. I felt bad about leaving Bobbie in the lurch after all that training and only 18 months or so on the job. But as a good HR manager should be, she was happy to see me progress in my career and was glad that she had given me the opportunity to learn and grow.
Not much to talk about today, but y’all know that has never stopped me before.
Anyway, I just got wind of this:
It appears Typhoon Kabayan is heading my way. If this projected storm track holds, it will be come right through Olongapo. Hold onto your hats!
The first thing I do every morning after I wake up is look out the window. I mean, I’m paying a premium in rent for the view, so I need to get my money’s worth. This morning I saw this…
…big ass ship slowly moving through the bay. I’m not even sure what kind of ship it is, but it is much larger than the usual freighters and other craft I see out there.
I guess I’ve always struggled somewhat with spelling (thank God for spellcheck!) and grammar. I never thought much about punctuation though until a commenter (alright, I’ll out him–Kevin Kim) noted that my comma usage could stand for some improvement. So, ever since, I’ve been cognizant of that problem, and now I try to inject a few commas, whether I need them or not! And now this morning I’m reading another blogger, Althouse, who was giving her take on the Bret “Bedbug” Stephens meltdown. Then she tacks on this addendum:
Excellent except to the extent that the provost is still doing 2 spaces after a period. Come on! Also, there’s no extra space before the new paragraph. That too much/too little combination is mildly infuriating.
Okay yeah, I get needing that space between paragraphs–it both looks better and makes for easier reading. But I’ll be damned if I’m not going to put two spaces between sentences. When did that rule change? I distinctly remember when I took typing in high school (for you youngsters, this was before keyboards were invented) two spaces after the period was not optional, it was a requirement. Someone is going to have to prove to me that two spaces is one space too many. Okay, rant over.
There was some good news on the ‘net today though. A new study has found that people who drink alcohol and coffee live longer. Well, you can’t argue with science, right? My only problem is that I usually only drink one cup of coffee each day. Hopefully the fact that I overindulge in beer drinking will counter any ill effects of my limited coffee intake.
There have been a number of dire warnings about climate change, with some saying we have only a decade to fix things. Others say we have only months. But now climate scientists have revealed the worst news of all: Climate change killed us years ago, and the Trump presidency is some purgatory-like trial similar to the last season of the TV show Lost.
“We’ve been crunching the data, and it’s the only thing that makes sense,” explained climate scientist Andrew Halloway at a press conference presenting the findings. He warned that their scientific conclusion is considered a spoiler for the final season of Lost but also said that the season was “terrible” and that “no one should watch it.”
“We probably died somewhere around 2016,” Halloway further explained. “That’s when everything got really weird — and everything since has been some sort of trial to teach us a lesson before we move on to the afterlife — maybe a lesson about teamwork or something.”
While the scientists presented a lot of data to back up their conclusion, many are doubting it or calling it “bad theology.” Some are even calling it “blasphemous” since it implies that God would copy the final season of Lost when God, being infinitely wise, most likely stopped watching the show after the first season.
I reckon the science is settled so no need to debate. We aren’t doomed. We are dead. It was nice knowin’ ya’s.
On a more serious note, if you are on your motor scooter, put the damn cell phone away!
At least he’s wearing a helmet.
Alright, I reckon that’s just about enough for now. Let me leave with you a couple of pics of my boys:
Lucky to Buddy: “Take it easy! I’m a lover, not a fighter!”Buddy to Lucky: “That’s okay, I’m a fighter AND a lover!”
Yes, my dogs are gay. Not that there is anything wrong with that.
I was in for a bit of a surprise yesterday evening. I arrived at Alley Cats expecting a few folks would be there, but instead the place was packed. And I was greeted with a hearty “happy birthday, Kuya John!” I was stunned and a little embarrassed. Being the center of attention in a big crowd is really not my thing, but of course I went along with it, offering gracious and sincere thank yous.
There was food……and a cake.The Filipino-style birthday song followed by me blowing out a candle.I was gifted a case of my favorite beer…And got lots of hugs and affection from the female guests…Birthday boy eats first and it was all good……including the best damn cole slaw I’ve had since back when my mom was around to make it. Chock full of goodness and I was gifted this large bowl full to take home and enjoy!
So it turned out to be a good night. Despite my discomfort I was genuinely moved that so many people wanted to share time with me on my birthday. I know I rag a lot about being alone, a loner, and/or lonely; but damn, I was reminded that in just a little over a year I’ve met some good people that consider me a friend. It really did make me feel that I’ve found a home.
In the virtual world, I was astounded with the greetings I was besieged with on Facebook. They ran the gamut of the high school girlfriend, two of my ex-wives, friends from my Postal Service days, people I knew when I worked in DC, Korea peeps, folks from South Carolina, friends I’ll be seeing next week in Vietnam, and of course my kids and other family members. It may be hell to grow old, but you do acquire some nice memories with the people you have met along the road of life.
So yeah, it was a good birthday and a good time to reflect on all the positives I’ve been blessed with. I probably tend to dwell on the negatives way out of proportion to their importance or meaning in my life. I’ll try to hold on to the good thoughts and warm feelings as I plod along in this sixty-fourth year on planet Earth.
Are you boys ready to roll?oops, looks like Lucky is going to make a run for it!
Nah, he knows not to bite the hand that feeds him!
I hope the day will be a lighter highway For friends are found on every road Can you ever think of any better way For the lost and weary travelers to go?
Making friends for the world to see Let the people know you got what you need With a friend at hand you will see the light If your friends are there then every thing’s all right
It seems to me a crime that we should age These fragile times should never slip us by A time you never can or shall erase As friends together watch their childhood fly
Making friends for the world to see Let the people know you got what you need With a friend at hand you will see the light If your friends are there then every thing’s all right
UPDATE: Well, how about that? I used “party hardy” back in May 2016 as well. Back then it was a friend’s birthday party and an ill-fated wedding party.
Obviously, the answer to Paul McCartney’s question, posed in a song, at least in my case, is no! All the women that I have loved or who have purported to love me, disappeared from my life long before I reached the ripe old age of 64. Heh! They don’t know what they’re missing!
Anyway, it’s rather amusing to look back to those youthful days when that tune was a hit. I had no concept of what being 64 meant, other than it made you ancient. But now that I’m here, I don’t feel particularly old and/or decrepit. I’m certainly more active than I’ve been in years. This morning’s weekly stats report from Fitbit offer confirmation:
160,404 steps taken, for an average of 22.915 per day. That exceeds my 20,000 daily step goal.
I walked 123.28 kilometers last week. Not bad for an old guy!
I burned an average of 3766 calories per day, which is a good thing given the beer calories I’ve been consuming.
I’m getting 6.36 hours of sleep per night which is about right for me.
My resting heart rate averages 64 beats per minute, which is a healthy sign.
The blood pressure (assisted by meds) is consistently in the high 120s/ low 130s range, with diastolic readings at 90 or below. So, while not ideal it is far better than it used to be and good enough for an old fucker I reckon.
I could stand to lose another 10 to 15 pounds (I’m currently at 203). Damn ice cream!
Suffice to say, as much as it sucks to get old, it beats the hell out of the alternative. So I intend to keep on keeping on.
You know, I do sometimes fantasize about Japanese porn going back in time. Like say, 50 years ago. In 1969 I was entering my freshman year of high school. If I only knew then what I know today! Lots of things I’d do differently of course, but then, I’d likely make other mistakes, and no telling how that might turn out. Still, it’s kind of fun to think about the life I’d live both before and after purchasing IPO stock in Microsoft, Apple, and Google.
Maybe that’s all just a pipe dream, but I was walking down the highway the other day and I got pretty excited when I saw this:
Alas, it seems to be a case of false advertising. They weren’t selling tickets for a journey to the past after all…
So it looks like I’m stuck with the life I’ve lived. And the one that is yet to come. My body may be older than it was, but in my mind this is what I see:
Everybody’s so different, I haven’t changed. Well, I am drinking higher quality beer these days, so there’s that.
“Age has no reality except in the physical world. The essence of a human being is resistant to the passage of time. Our inner lives are eternal, which is to say that our spirits remain as youthful and vigorous as when we were in full bloom. Think of love as a state of grace, not the means to anything, but the alpha and omega. An end in itself.”
― Gabriel García Márquez, Love in the Time of Cholera
Yesterday was Hash day and it was a bit of a fiasco of my own making. After a morning full of sunshine the rains came pouring down in torrents in the hours preceding the Hash. I made the decision before I left the house that I wasn’t going to go climbing up in the mountains under these conditions. So I carried my umbrella instead of my walking stick. And wouldn’t you know it? Just a few minutes prior to departure time the rain stopped, the sky turned blue, and the sun was shining brightly. The Hares to their credit, went back out to remark the trail, and most of the kennel followed them shortly thereafter. I stuck by my decision and just walked the streets for an hour, but by all accounts it was a perfectly fine trail. I really regretted being such a wuss.
So, I get to our “On-Home” at Midnight Rambler ahead of the group and grab a menu. I rarely go to this venue other than for the Hash. They have a small restaurant run by a Brit and called the BBC. And they had a whole menu page devoted to pies:
It’s apparently their specialty! I splurged on the Cornish Pasty because I’d never had one before.This is what it looked like. Now, clearly I could see the difference in a pasty from the pies I’d experienced at other restaurants. And I could see how they had folded up the crust in a similar fashion as I’d seen Kevin Kim demonstrate on his blog. Now, mine was supposed to come with mashed potatoes instead of chips, but I was there for pasty, so what does it matter?And this was by far my best meat pie/pasty experience yet. The crust was firm without being dry, tasty without overwhelming the delicious and plentiful meat. So, Midnight Rambler/BBC is the place to go in Barretto when you have a hankering for this English delicacy. At least so far.
As I dined on my flavorful pasty, the Hashers trickled in from the trail and I felt like a heel for not having been out with them. But more beers eased that pain. And then it was time for the Hash circle.
Now, there is a Hash tradition that honors Harriers celebrating birthdays by preparing them a cake. I had hoped to avoid this recognition given that my birthday was the following day, but apparently that was close enough. And so I got my cake:
Eggs, flour, sugar, oil, and some yeast in the form of beer. All mixed together on my head. I was thankful there was no oven nearby!
And that was last night. Nothing special about today thus far. Grocery shopping, a brief walk, and I guess some sort of get together at Alley Cats later this afternoon.
Time marches on and so do I.
When I get older losing my hair Many years from now Will you still be sending me a valentine Birthday greetings, bottle of wine? If I’d been out till quarter to three Would you lock the door? Will you still need me, will you still feed me When I’m sixty four?
While I’m really not anti-social, I’m a bit of an introvert and don’t much care for large get-togethers unless I know the participants well. Gunter, aka Vienna Sausage, a fellow Hasher and de facto leader of the Wednesday walking group, has invited me to join gatherings at his place several times. I’ve always been non-committal about attending and subsequently never showed up. So, he was having a surprise birthday party for his girlfriend (also a Hasher–“Goes with a Dick”) yesterday and more or less insisted that I come. Well, not that I felt obligated, but I didn’t really have any Sunday evening plans other than sitting around drinking, so why not?
I had a general idea of where Gunter lives but no clue on how to get there. Troy (Demolition Derby) was playing darts at Alley Cats in the afternoon, so I met up with him there and after the tourney he showed me the way to the party. I made a batch of brownies to take along for the birthday girl. I also baked some cupcakes for the gals at Alley Cats and they seemed to go over well.
While I was waiting for Troy to finish with darts, I found myself seated at the same table with Steve, the Englishman who doesn’t drink. Although we’ve gone mano a mano at the dart boards several times, I’d never really talked to the guy before. Well, I’m nothing if not polite (shuddup!) so I asked him where he’s from in England. He told me Plymouth, a place I’ve actually heard of–people say Plymouth rocks! *ahem*. Steve also said that he had spent the past 22 years in Spain. I’ve never been to Spain, but I kinda like the music (yeah, there’s no stopping me!). I asked him what he did in Spain and he responded that he owns a bar there! I admit to being gobsmacked by that fact.
I couldn’t resist the urge to ask why a guy who doesn’t drink would own a bar? He laughed and said he’d only stopped drinking a year ago. And he stopped because his drinking was out of control. Good for him! Anyway, his rented the bar out now and seems to be enjoying his new life in the Philippines. I asked how he spends his time here and he responded he likes playing darts (duh!) and walking. I invited him to come out for the Hash and Wednesday Walkers and he expressed interest in doing so. And now we are Facebook friends to boot. See, I’m not anti-social!
Troy finished with darts and we made our way to the party at Gunter’s. Drank some beers, ate some food, had some small talk with my fellow guests, and sang Happy Birthday.
It turns out everyone there was a Hasher, so I wasn’t amongst strangers at least…
Still, I was the first to say my “goodnights” and head on out. I did pop into the Man Cave bar on my walk home. Called one of the dancers down for a couple of drinks and had a pretty good time I think.
This morning I woke up in a fog.
Literally.
The fog eventually lifted, and lo and behold, we had us some blue skies for a change. I took advantage and hoofed it over to Arizona for breakfast. My waitress, Grace, greeted me by name. And she told me she had seen me walking the other morning while she was coming out of the drug store and she called out “Hi John!”, but I had ignored her. Hmm, I had no recollection of that event. I probably just didn’t hear her, but I told her that I have women calling out to me all day long and if I stopped to answer I’d never get my steps in. She didn’t seem too impressed with that response.
Anyway, after she took my order she started asking me about Busan. I honestly don’t recall ever mentioning Korea to her but obviously I must have said something about having lived there. I told her Busan was a great city and I had always enjoyed visiting there. She asked me about working there as a Filipino and all I could say was that Busan is a little cheaper than Seoul to live in, and that I had met many Filipinos in Korea who were living a comfortable life. She was evasive when I asked her why she was interested in Busan, so I let it go.
Finished my morning steps, took a nap, and wrote this blog post. After being sunny most of the day, it has clouded up again and is currently pouring down rain. It appears my hopes for a dry Hash today have been washed away. Along with most of the trail markings the Hares (Demolition Derby and Vienna Sausage) put down this morning no doubt.
Ah well, if it keeps on raining like this the Hash today will just be another social event on my calendar. It’s all good.
Well, I’ve never been to Spain But I kinda like the music Say the ladies are insane there And they sure know how to use it
They don’t abuse it Never gonna lose it I can’t refuse it
Well, I’ve never been to England But I kinda like the Beatles Well, I headed for Las Vegas Only made it out to Needles
Can you feel it? Must be near it Feels so good Oh, it feels so good
Well, I’ve never been to heaven But I’ve been to Oklahoma Oh, they tell me I was born there But I really don’t remember
In Oklahoma, not Arizona What does it matter? What does it matter?
I got a big smile from commenter Kevin Kim’s link to his review of the movie “Rush”; a film about the competition between racing greats James Hunt, an Englishman, and Niki Lauda from Austria. Kevin jokingly equated their epic battles to my struggles with my darts nemesis, Steve the Englishman who doesn’t drink.
Well, as fate would have it, I crossed swords darts with Steve again last night. This time it was in the 501 doubles tourney at Alley Cats bar. Steve is consistently better than me, but when I’m on my game I can hold my own with him. The wild card in doubles is who you draw as a partner, and last night my partner was a tad better than his. So in that sense it was a pretty equal match. Naturally we wound up facing off in the winners bracket, where me and Gerlie took a hard fought 2-1 victory. Steve and his partner came back through the loser’s bracket and we went at it again in the tourney finals. That match was about as close as it could be, but once again, Gerlie and I prevailed 2-1.
We are the champions my friend, and we kept on fighting till the end…
Or maybe we just got lucky. Speaking of Lucky:
Lucky established himself as the dominant male dog of the house by killing Buddy this morning. Or so it would appear.
I’m kidding of course. But Lucky has come a long way:
This is how Lucky looked the day he came to live with me. Skinny and hungry he was…And he also had a horrific case of the mange going on…more scabs than fur…These days Lucky is fat, dumb, and happy….
I’m not kidding about the dumb part. He truly is the stupidest dog I’ve ever owned. I love him anyway of course. But damn…
You better watch what you say You better watch what you do to me Don’t get carried away Girl, if you can do better than me, go Yeah, go, but remember
Good love is hard to find Good love is hard to find You got lucky, babe You got lucky, babe, when I found you
You put a hand on my cheek And then you turned your eyes away If you don’t feel complete If I don’t take you all of the way, then go Yeah, go, but remember
Good love is hard to find Good love is hard to find You got lucky, babe You got lucky, babe, when I found you
I’ve managed to squeeze out 15,000 steps, but I confined myself to the neighborhood. Talk about boring! Kind of like this post.
I played with my old dart league mates yesterday afternoon. The highlight (for me) was facing off against my nemesis, Steve the Englishman who doesn’t drink. We played singles Cricket, which was a first. In my opinion, Cricket requires more skill than the standard game of 501 that is usually played here. For one thing, only the specified numbers count (20-15 and the bullseye), so there is a minimum of “lucky” shots. There is also a strategy about what to throw when, and pointing. I actually wrote a pretty scholarly (for me) blog post on the subject.
Anyway, Steve is the superior player overall, but I started out on fire. And he really didn’t play a “smart” cricket game, chasing me on numbers I had closed instead of getting ahead on a number and throwing points. Even with all that in my favor it came down to who could hit the most bullseyes soonest. In the end I prevailed. Woot!
I put my new crockpot slow cooker to work again this morning:
What goes better on a rainy day than chili and cornbread?
They both turned out quite tasty if I do say so myself.
I was never a whiz at math, but I found this pretty damn funny:
Something doesn’t add up here…
I’ve been conscientiously working to avoid using repetitive titles on my blog posts. I know none of my readers remember such a mundane detail, but for some reason it matters to me. The “nada y nada” sounded familiar, so I did a quick search of the LTG archives and discovered I’ve used it twice previously.
In October 2014, I was alone in the states and missing my wife who kept promising to “join me soon”. Without her around to motivate me I was sinking into a pit of despair and loneliness, sometimes not leaving the house for days. Of course, I didn’t know at the time that she was never coming back to me.
In June 2009, I was living single in Seoul and was lamenting being between dart seasons. Big whoop. And oh yeah, the “pending change” I was alluding to in that post was nothing more than a redesign of the LTG masthead. Dealing with that kind of drama, I guess I didn’t know just how good I had it.
And here I am all these years later, still living a pretty solitary life. I’ve added walking to my darts and beer regimen, which of course is a good thing. I’m not complaining about my lot in this life. After all, I have a clean, well-lighted place to call home.
It is the light of course but it is necessary that the place be clean and pleasant. You do not want music. Certainly you do not want music. Nor can you stand before a bar with dignity although that is all that is provided for these hours. What did he fear? It was not fear or dread. It was a nothing that he knew too well. It was all a nothing and a man was nothing too.
Some lived in it and never felt it but he knew it all was nada y pues nada y nada y pues nada.
Booked my flight and hotel for eight days in Ho Chi Minh City, Vietnam. I prefer the former name, but now it’s, sigh, gone. Sorry. The airport code is still SGN, so there’s that.
Anyway, it’s my virgin trip there and I’m really looking forward to getting drunk in different bars seeing new places. Actually, I have a couple of old friends from Seoul living there now, so it will be good to catch up and throw some darts with them again. Maybe I’ll even have something interesting to blog about for a change. Hey, it could happen!
Speaking of new scenery, I’m doing some very preliminary scouting work for a new trail next time I’m the Hash Hare. I extended my morning walk out to Barangay Calapacuan to see what I could see. I saw but didn’t do a mountain out that way this time, but I did walk some of the neighborhood streets and alleys. I have a lot more exploring to do, but my preliminary thinking is I can put together a nice hike with a combination of mountains, rice paddies, and backstreets. The only downside thus far is knowing we’d have to take the Hashmobile out to the starting point. I hate riding in that fucker but there ain’t much new to Hash in Barretto. We’ll see.
Saw this at one of the ubiquitous neighborhood basketball courts. It made me smile for some reason.
I enjoyed breakfast at home this morning before heading out to walk.
That fueled me up for a longer than normal 2.5 hour march. Had to do the extra steps this morning because I got sucked into playing with my old dart league team this afternoon. I’m getting to be a creature of habit I guess because I don’t like giving up my daily routines. Ah well.
And finally, I came across this promotional video from Pan Am airlines touting the 1960’s Philippines. I would have liked to see that country because it is not much like that now.
Greetings from the Philippines. Yesterday I ventured out with the Sausage Walkers for the first time in quite awhile. I was ready to see something new on my hike and I wasn’t disappointed with our journey to Castillejos. I’ll let the photos do most of the talking.
The meetup was at our usual gathering place, Angel’s German Bakery. From there we took a 20 minute Jeepney ride to the drop-off point for our hike in Barangay Balaybay.Just a little rain when we first started out and then it was clear sailing, er, walking there on out.Up we go!Not a bad trail, but it did get slick in places. I had one crash where my feet slid off a muddy path and over the edge. Luckily, it was only a two-foot drop-off. That’s kind of my nightmare, taking an inadvertent dive over the cliff…Troy and his gal Ailyn enjoying their time in the wild.Scott leading the way…There was one small creek crossing to deal with….Not as easy as it looks because the ground was soaked and muddy all around the running water…Me? I just said fuck it and waded across…Let’s get out of here…This place was a pigsty…Complete with open air toilet…Jesus saves!On the trail…I enjoyed some new vistas….I guess to outsiders the scenery all looks the same…But it was different enough from Barretto to be interesting….This is where rice comes from…One of the best views of the day…Ain’t they sweet?As we walked back in to Castillejos, I spied this sign advertising training for Filipinos who desire to work in Korea…One of the Sausage Walker traditions is to enjoy a picnic lunch on the trail. We changed it up a bit yesterday by dropping into a local watering hole.Our gracious hosts at Roadhouse. The light-haired green-eyed girl showed me the photo on the wall of her American father and Filipina mother. Sweet!An 8K walk was just about right…
Yesterday was grocery shopping day. It nearly broke my heart to see a nice looking pork roast on display in the meat case and me with no proper way to prepare it. As I considered the weekly menu options I realized just how reliant I am on my crockpot. What to do, what to do?
Well, I had my driver drop me off at the SM mall in Olongapo to see what I could find. SM is the biggest department store chain in the Philippines, so if anyone was going to have what I needed I figured it would be them. Up on the third floor SM has an appliance store separate from the main store. I went in there first and they had blenders, rice cookers, and assorted other cooking apparatus. When I inquired about a crockpot I was met with a blank stare. I said, you know, a slow cooker. “Sorry sir, not in stock”. I guess I wasn’t surprised, I seem to recall having checked them out before. In fact, I had brought a crockpot with me from Korea because I had never seen one in the stores here.
I needed a new charging cable for my phone so I headed up the the Samsung store on the 4th floor of the mall. As I exited the escalator, I noticed the kitchenware section of the SM store. I was there anyway, so I figured why not have a look-see. Lots of pots and pans and the like but not what I needed. A clerk approached. “Crockpot?” I asked. Blank stare again. “Slow cooker?”. His eyes lit up and he led me to a shelf that had, wait for it, slow cookers! And in four fucking sizes! Now, not the Crock Pot brand I hoped for, but damn, it’ll do.
Success in a box! And only 1699 pesos ($34). Beats the hell out of the crockpot I found online for 6,000 pesos BEFORE the 5,000 peso shipping fee. Yeah, this one will do!I also picked up my charging cable…1100 pesos ($22). I really can’t understand why a wire can be so expensive.
Now, I’d sent my driver home with the groceries and helpers so I needed to find my own way back to Barretto. From the mall I usually just walk the 20 minutes to the Kakalyan gate of the old Navy base where I can catch the blue Jeepney to my Barrio. Lugging that slow cooker around didn’t make that an appealing option. So, I caught a yellow Jeepney in front of the mall and rode it to the bus station, and there I caught the blue Jeepney for home.
As you can see, it was a very comfortable ride. Not!
Last night I was in a celebratory mood. Beers at Cheap Charlies, a 500 peso voucher for Hot Zone, and a night cap at Alley Cats on the way home.
That’s a couple of the Alley Cat gals. Nancy on my right and Jerlyn on my lap. Nancy is 43 and Jerlyn is 21. I laughed and said this looks like a mom, dad, and daughter picture.
Actually, Jerlyn is a real sweetheart and sometimes I look at her ass in a non-fatherly fashion. But notwithstanding her cuteness I just ain’t gonna go that young. I know guys who do and I’m happy for them, even as I say to myself “you really look ridiculous with her”. Just not my thing. At least so far…
This morning I set to work at putting my new slow cooker to work.
Out of the box and onto the counter…And I won’t be needing my 220-110 transformer anymore…My old crockpot had a timer I could set for cooking length. Once the time was up, it automatically switched to warm mode. That was nice because I could leave it unattended, go out and get drunk socialize, then have a warm and ready to eat meal when I got back home. Ah well, this will do.Today I’m breaking her in with a nice pot roast. What can go wrong? Which is precisely why I enjoy this kind of cooking!
Time to go out and do a hike with the Wednesday Sausage Walkers. Stay tuned!
…for me anyway. No rain to mar our efforts at laying a trail for yesterday’s Hash, and no rain during the Hash either. The feedback from the Harriers who participated was very positive. The trail was in an area we hadn’t Hashed in awhile and folks appreciated the variety. We had a couple of hills to climb but nothing outrageous. And there was some variety as well, incorporating both countryside and street side.
Here’s how the trail looked from God’s perspective. I’m actually pretty proud of this one. Too me it was the right mix–challenging but not outrageous. 6.5K all in.
One guy rolled his ankle on that tire staircase, but I don’t think you can blame the trail for that, could have happened getting out of bed too. There were two points where some folks lost the trail and had to backtrack. In the first instance it seems the locals intentionally erased the trail markings. No idea why someone would be so petty as to do that, but what can you do? The second place was near the end and I’ll cop to inadequate marking. I just assumed people would discern the true trail getting back to our on-home at Treasure Island. Lesson learned!
Here I am giving last minute instructions to the pack before they hit they trail.And they are off! Or On-On as it were.My partner in crime and co-Hare, Pubic Head.Yours truly doing what Hare’s do…Working the trail…Seeing this dog on a hot tin roof got me thinking. Maybe I should write a play?Heading back down…Are you sure this is right? We are the Hares, of course it’s right. Who’s gonna say otherwise?No rain, but it was still wet in places…Encouragement from the natives? I think they were saying our trail is #1…Back on-home and as is the tradition, the Hares sit on the ice while the kennel gives feedback on the trail. Anyone who professes to have enjoyed the trail joins them there. We filled up that ice!
It was a good day and the best trail ever! So say I and so it must be!
Sometimes the morning coffee’s way too strong. And Sometimes what she says she says all wrong. Right or Wrong, she’s there beside me, Like only a friend would be! And that’s close enough to perfect for me.
Now, She’s been known to wear her pants too tight. And drinkin’ puts her out just like a light. Heaven knows she’s not an angel, But she’d really like to be. And that’s close enough to perfect for me.
For some reason I thought it would be a good idea to have a little adventure with my afternoon walk yesterday. Maybe it was just to punish myself for being lazy on Saturday. Whatever the cause, I took a climb up into unfamiliar territory. It probably wasn’t the smartest thing I’ve done lately, but I did it anyway.
As I started out from Alta Vista I encountered a local standing on the path holding a machete. “Where you go?” he asked. “Just gonna climb the mountain”, I told him, nodding towards the hillside in front of me. He gave me a funny look, shrugged, and I proceeded onward. I knew whereabouts I wanted to get to and figured I’d find a trail going in that direction. But the first path I took just petered out, and the next one I took seemed to go in the wrong direction. Not being able to discern other viable options, I continued onward. The trail meandered for a ways and then commenced to turn steeply upwards. It was a slick and muddy climb and I thought to myself “glad I’m not trying to come down this way”. Made it to the top and then the trail just seemed to disappear.
This is what I was faced with. Grass over eight feet tall. Tough to walk through, leaving some scratches on my arms and legs. But worse was not being able to clearly see where I was placing my feet. At one point I noticed that if I took a step to the left I’d be falling down a very steep hillside. That freaked me out so I retreated. I wasn’t willing to go back the way I came though as that seemed to involve a similarly perilous hike down. So, I reoriented my position on the mountain and cautiously made my way forward.
It seems people don’t hike up there this time of year for a reason. I resolved that once I found a trail, any trail, I would take it wherever it went. This overland shit was a sucker’s bet. And good fortune was with me because I did come across a pretty decent path about ten minutes later.
I was able to breathe a sigh of relief and enjoy views like this…And in the other direction, a nice overlook of my hometown, Barrio Barretto.
So, through blind (almost literally) luck, I had reached the mountain top I had been wanting to achieve. Now, where would this mystery path take me next?
I know that valley well. Wasn’t real sure how to get there from here though…I continued onward (like I had a choice) and eventually things started to look familiar. And lo and behold, I found myself at this four-way intersection on the infamous My Bitch trail. I could have turned left here and been back safe and sound in Alta Vista in twenty minutes time. Ah, but where’s the fun in that? So instead I turned to the right, thinking that would lead me down to Columban College in Barretto.Although I knew I was heading generally in the right direction, I didn’t recall walking through this area of shacks previously. I always feel a little uncomfortable invading the privacy of the mountain dwellers, but I had no alternative. Didn’t actually see any people, but judging by the laundry hung out to dry, they were indeed occupied.And just a tad further up the trail I came across the “fresh” water supply of the locals.I sure was glad my name isn’t “N. Santos”. Poor bastard isn’t allowed to trespass.And then at last I found myself on the familiar steps leading back down to civilization. Such as it is…The back side of Columban College. Which is actually a private (Catholic) high school.From the relative safety of the streets of Barretto, I gandered back up to where I had been.
I came. I saw. I conquered. I walked back home.
Today I was back out marking the trail for today’s Hash with my co-Hare, Pubic Head. Basically the same trail we laid four weeks ago that got rained out. It’s plenty cloudy out there right now but I’m hoping our luck holds out this time. You can look forward to a full report on that tomorrow.
You’ll never say hello to you Until you get it on the red line overload You’ll never know what you can do Until you get it up as high as you can go
Out along the edges Always where I burn to be The further on the edge The hotter the intensity
Highway to the danger zone Gonna take you Right into the danger zone
Dinner at Mango’s last night. Although I wasn’t craving it, I noticed meat pie (beef and chicken) on the menu. Said it was served with mashed potatoes and vegetables. The menu didn’t say if the “pie” had a potato crust (like the one I recently had at Arizona) or the dough crust that I prefer. And so I felt duty bound to continue my quest to find the most appetizing meat pie in Barrio Barretto. I ordered the chicken.
I was very happy to see the potatoes on the side where they belong! And I liked the look of that perfectly browned crust. Had I found pie Nirvana? Well, not so fast. The crust tasted too doughy somehow, and maybe too chewy. It seemed to overwhelm the flavor of the contents within. You know, it occurs to me that maybe I just don’t know how a properly prepared meat pie should taste. Perhaps last night’s dough was perfect and only my ignorance kept me from enjoying it properly.
Hmm, maybe I don’t know what I like, but I’ll like it when I taste it. Anyway, as things stand now, Mango’s pie is best so far, followed by Arizona and then Johan’s. Still a couple of more places to try I think. Or I could learn to make them at home like Kevin Kim has been doing. Ha, I do have a Marie Callender’s version in my freezer right now!
Made up a batch of blueberry muffins this morning. Wound up spilling some of the blueberrys on the floor. So I added in some walnuts instead. That worked quite well. Made for a crunchy muffin!
Thanks for all your help with these Betty! Couldn’t have done it without you…
Back on track so far today with the walking, just need to stay motivated for my afternoon hike.
Got into a spat with some keyboard warrior on one of the forums. So I just went into my ignore mode. This was my parting shot:
“I can’t hear you” I told him…
Long-haired preachers come out every night To tell you what’s wrong and what’s right But when asked how about something to eat They will answer in voices so sweet:
You will eat, bye and bye In that glorious land above the sky Work and pray, live on hay You’ll get pie in the sky when you die. That’s a lie
And the starvation army they play They sing and they clap and they pray ‘Till they get all your coin on the drum Then they’ll tell you when you’re on the bum:
You’re gonna eat, bye and bye, poor boy In that glorious land above the sky, way up high Work and pray, live on hay You’ll get pie in the sky when you die Dirty lie
Everyone has to walk their own path in life. Sometimes people join us for some of that journey. And when the time comes they go their own way. It took me a long time to figure out that there are worse things than being alone. It’s fine to share your time and passion with a fellow traveler; just never give another the power to keep you from reaching your own destination.
I left the above as a comment to a friend’s Facebook post. He lives in South Carolina and about all I know of him since I moved away is what I see from him on social media. He just lost the love of his life and I can tell he is struggling some. Not sure if my words of “wisdom” will help or hurt, but it was actually interesting (to me) to articulate my thinking on the subject of losing. Not particularly unique insights I suppose, but it is pretty much where I’m at these days regardless.
Actually, it occurs to me I’m just a coward who’s given up on finding “the one” and falling in love. But I probably know me better than anyone else does, and at this advanced stage of my life I’m just unwilling to suffer another heartbreak. Been there done that. The last time I counted it was twelve failures. Why keep searching for my future ex, right?
Three years ago I posted this picture on Facebook with the caption “the future is a mystery”:
That didn’t turn out the way I hoped!
Ah, but life does go on. I’d suffer another heartbreak just over a year later. And some other disappointments along the way. I just don’t seem to be a good judge of character. Or maybe it’s my own lack of character. Who knows? Who cares? I’m constantly reminded just how lucky I truly am. I can do this journey on my own.
Shit happens.
Speaking of journeys, I spent some quality time with My Bitch yesterday.
First time in quite awhile I did the long trail over the mountain right next door to my subdivision.
I managed to not lose the path this time, but it may have been blind luck. A goodly portion of the trail was overgrown with this shit:
I’m 6’1″ and that “grass” was over my head. Makes it tough to see where you are putting your feet. That can be a disaster as there is a pretty steep drop off in places. Still, it was good to be out there again.
While I was out hiking I got a text asking me to play darts with my old team that afternoon. Seems they were shorthanded. I reluctantly agreed to do so. So, the match started at 2:00 and I finished my hike just before noon. Which is why I didn’t have time to post to the blog yesterday. Sorry to disappoint you loyal reader(s). Or maybe I should be saying “you’re welcome!”
Anyway, I don’t do dart league anymore because I don’t like drinking early in the afternoon. And while I suppose I could play darts without imbibing my beloved beer, I’m not willing to do so. I played pretty well yesterday and contributed some wins to the trouncing of our opponents by a score of 10-3. It was 4:30 by the time we finished and I had plans for my Friday night–the Sons of Baccus (SOB) dance competition!
I got to Alaska Club early to make sure I had a good seat.
I won a bunch of raffle tickets for the drawing at the SOB Aftermath party being held up the street at Rum Jungle. Although I was already drunker than normal, I decided to attend. There I was joined at my table by a gal named Shurley (that’s how she spells it) who knew my name, although I honestly don’t recall having met her. I rarely visit Rum Jungle. Anyway, she was pleasant enough company. And despite having like twenty tickets for the raffle, only one of mine was drawn, and not for the chance to win the 20,000 peso grand prize. Oh well.
At this point I’d been drinking since 2, and it was now 10. That’s a full day of hard beer consumption work. And speaking of hard, Shurley had been rubbing me the right way for awhile and managed to get a rise out of me. She made it clear she wanted me to pay to take her home for some serious fun. And you know what they say about alcohol impairing your judgement! That’s right, I politely declined her offer, paid my tab, and gave her a generous tip instead. Shurley was a good sport about it, telling me she’s glad she has a dildo at home.
So I stumbled on back to the house, made and drank a blender full of strawberry-banana smoothies, went to bed, and despite being a “lark” I slept in until 6:30. And haven’t done shit all day. I’m disappointed in myself for not walking, but maybe I needed a break. The woman who’s kids I’m sponsoring came by to collect the monthly donation and gave me a nice thank you massage. No happy ending though, which is okay. I can’t and won’t ask her for anything, otherwise it turns my act of “charity” into something sordid. Which defeats the whole purpose of giving–which of course is to make me feel good about myself!
Yeah, maybe the problem is me.
Blues outside my door I don’t even know if it’s raining But I’ve been here before And I don’t wanna be here again
Every now and then voices on the wind call me back to the first time far away and clear you can hear the tear drops falling for the last in love.
If I let you down All I can say is “I’m sorry” Now it’s’ all over town So I don’t want to hear it from you
Please don’t look away it’s hard enough to say This could go on forever When the night is clear I can hear the teardrops Falling for the last in love.
It seems to me that you are ultimately only as good as your partner. I’m talking about darts here, not life. Although, come to think of it… Nope, not going to go there.
Anyway, tournament last night at Alley Cats. As is the norm, it was a luck-of-the draw (aka “blind draw”) format. This means each of the participants draws a number and the two folks who draw the same number are paired up as doubles partners for the night. Sometimes this results in a disparate impact when two strong players are drawn together or two weak players are forced to compete. Still, it’s really the only fair way to treat all the players as everyone has an equal chance to get a partner of their liking.
I make mention of this process because last night I drew my nemesis, Steve the Englishman who doesn’t drink, as my partner. Now, Steve is currently the best player in town. I’m probably in the top 5 when I bring some game with me. So there was a fair amount of whining as folks figured the best they could hope for was a second place finish. I do understand those feelings, but the only way to find out is to play the match. And that’s what we proceeded to do.
Oddly enough, being favored to win puts a whole other kind of pressure on you. Conversely, your opponents have nothing to lose and so play more relaxed. At least it felt that way to me last night. In our first match we lost the first leg, won the second handily, and had a nail biter in the the final leg before prevailing. Steve was throwing outstanding darts all night, I had my typical inconsistent game going on, but did hit some out shots and a few big scores.
As expected by everyone in the bar, we reached the finals undefeated in the winners bracket. We had another tough match that went all three legs before we took the victory and the 1000 peso first place money. It wasn’t easy at all though and really I have more fun when I don’t give a shit about winning or losing.
To the victors go the spoils.
Enough about darts. Let’s talk about walking! I did my morning 10,000 steps on pavement, taking my Abra street route. I’m always aware when I’m up in the mountains about the hazards that surround me and how easy it would be suffer serious injury with one misstep. On the street you need to of course be careful of vehicular traffic and the like, but their are other perils as well.
The streets stay wet all the time during rainy season. And in areas where there is not much traffic a green algae-like substance grows. And that shit is just about as slick as a sheet of ice. This morning while I’m walking I’m faced with either stepping out into the street, walking through a puddle, or getting up on what passes for a sidewalk. The space was actually angled 20 degrees or so as it was also a driveway entrance. Well, I knew right away I had made a mistake because it was covered in the green slime. I tried to retreat but too late–I was down on my ass. All I hurt was my pride, thankfully. Oh, an my watchband broke. I sat there stewing in my stupidity when a trike driver stopped to see if I was okay. I assured him I was, but he helped me stand up anyway. Nice guy!
I made it back home without further incident. After a brief rest and a change of shorts, I walked to Lourdes hospital for my scheduled eye doctor appointment. Afterwards I walked the length of Baloy Beach road and returned home with nearly 22,000 steps before noon!
I like my ophthalmologist, you might say we see eye-to-eye on things. *ahem*. The good news is my infections have cleared up so I don’t have to keep putting the antibiotic gunk in my eyes. He did say I’m showing early signs of cataracts. Not a problem now, but something to keep an eye on (there I go again!). The Doc suggested I wear my sunglasses when I’m outside as somehow bright sunlight can exacerbate cataract growth. I’ll come back in six months for another checkup.
What else? Well, apparently someone at Divimart read my post mocking their signage and abbreviations.
I noticed yesterday they had spelled out supermarket now. They could have used a space between “department” and “store”, but I deem this effort good enough!
I hope they carry slow cookers. My efforts to find a replacement have been unsuccessful thus far. For whatever reason they are just not a popular cooking method here. I even did the big online shopping service, Lazada (the PI Amazon). An lo and behold, they had one listed just like the one I have (well, I have half of one now, but you know what I mean). I experienced some sticker shock at 6250 pesos ($125), more than twice what I paid for mine. But what are you going to do? Started filling out the shipping information and it turns out I can have it flown in for $100 and get it the first week in September. Or I can ship it by sea for $40 dollars and receive it at the end of October. I opted for the “fuck it, I’ll keep looking” option.
In the meantime, I’ll just have to expand my repertoire of things I can cook in the oven. Today I tried my hand at chicken wings…
Meanwhile, the Philippines has passed a law that makes most of my drunk jokes illegal. Bastos means “rude” in Tagalog.
Then again, maybe the bars aren’t “safe spaces”. After all, prostitution is also technically illegal.
In other news, it turns out I’m an “extreme lark”. I wake up every morning between 5 and 6 a.m. I’m almost always in bed by 10 p.m. Pretty interesting article at the link, give it a read. I kind of like that according to neuroscience I’m a lark. All this time I figured I was just a tired old man!
And finally, in the category of one less thing to worry about–remember those ISIS terrorists I mentioned a while back? Turns out it was the father of one of the female suspects who made the accusation. Not because she’s a terrorist, but because he didn’t like the boy she was dating. It’s a crazy world out there, that’s for sure.
I did such a damn fine job getting my steps in today I think I’ll reward myself with a nice massage. Then I’ll drink some beers. Life is good!
Changed things up a bit today and had breakfast at the Arizona resort here in Barretto.
The sun was kinda shining and it was a nice day to dine by the beach…
Now, I eat at Arizona a couple of times a month, so dining there this morning wasn’t so unusual. In fact, I was just there on August 2 and blogged about an unusually unsatisfactory breakfast of biscuits and gravy. What was different this time is that I didn’t order breakfast at all, despite it being just a little after 8:00 a.m.
Instead I ordered up the cottage pie. The waitress asked incredulously “for breakfast?” I said yep, if it’s available now. She shrugged and said okay.
It seems I’ve developed an interest in pasties and meat pies since I’ve been reading about Kevin Kim’s exploits in the kitchen. Commenter Thirsty also gave an Englishman’s perspective on this subject, including a mention of a cottage and shepherd pies. My quest is to sample all available options on offer here in Barretto, so a pie for breakfast it is!
Now, when the waitress delivered this to my table I admit I was a little surprised. I mean, I’ve heard of pot pies but never saw one served this way.This is what was inside. Again, not what I was expecting. So yeah, the menu does say served with mashed potatoes on top, but I was picturing a scoop on top of a meat pie. And here’s what was under that blanket of mashed taters. Plenty of minced beef and veggies as promised. BUT NO CRUST WHATSOEVER!
Granted, the was my first ever cottage pie; but was I wrong to think a pie by definition has a crust? I actually went back to look at the menu again (and take the photo above) just to be sure. Now, there is no mention of a crust per se, but “baked to a golden brown” is certainly misleading. What the fuck was baked to a golden brown, the potatoes?
Okay, Google is my friend. It seems the consensus is that a cottage pie can have a pastry crust or a mashed potato crust. Live and learn.
Anyway, it was quite tasty and I ate it all. It just wasn’t what I was expecting. And so the quest continues.
Coincidentally,, my friend John was up the beach having breakfast with his girlfriend at By the Sea resort. He sent me this photo of the beach there:
Stormy weather washes all that trash that people dump into the rivers that flow into the bay onto the beach. I’m too pissed about it to try an punctuate the preceding sentence. At least Arizona does a better job raking up the trash on their portion of the beach. Okay, everything looks better with Mango in the picture. John’s a lucky guy!
In other news, we had a few hours of sunshine yesterday afternoon. Once I’d finished my rant about Monday’s shitty urban Hash trail, I decided to take to the mountains and get some relief.
See, now that’s what a trail is supposed to look like!
I hadn’t been up on My Bitch for about a month I guess. Despite the rain, the paths were in surprisingly good shape. Muddy in places and a tad slippery here and there, but not bad overall.
Even had a waterfall to enjoy.
Now one thing I didn’t like was that with a reduced amount of traffic the path was overgrown with that tall grass-like plant, making it hard at times to follow the trail. In fact, I wound up missing my planned turn and found myself here:
Man, was I ever tired! It was pretty bizarre that I was on this particular path because it is part of the trail for next week’s Hash (in which I’m co-Hare). Now, I came at from a different direction but it was still surprising.
It turned out to be a nice little adventure and by golly, I’m going to go back up to the mountain right now! Thanks for reading!\
Morning, Arizona morning
Almost sets me free
Makes me glad to be alive
Wondering,
Why I started wandering
Should have stayed right here
Underneath the clear blue skies
In the morning, Arizona morning
A place where I can smile
And see a hundred miles away.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VO3uhjah6xU
When I lived in Arizona I used to see Rod Hart playing live in the local bars.
Well, yesterday’s Hash turned out to be almost as boring as the stuff I post here at LTG. I guess you could call it an urban trail seeing as how we never left the pavement. To be fair, it was an excellent rainy day hike. Except it didn’t rain. There was lots of grousing both during and after the Hash about the lack of any challenge–it was just 5.5 kilometers of level ground street walking. A couple of guys said “fuck this” halfway through and took a path up into the mountains. I was a little tempted but opted to stay the course out of respect for the Hare. Honestly, the worst part for me was that almost all of yesterday’s trail was exactly what I had walked that morning. And it was boring the first time!
On the bright side, Pubic Head and I will be the Hares next week. We will be reprising the trail that got washed away last month. And compared to what we did yesterday our walk will seem challenging and fun. At least I hope so!
SBH3 Run #1361. We started in Alta Vista (at the right) and walked across Barretto’s city streets, avoiding that perfectly nice mountain you see in the middle…Waiting outside Johansson’s to get the show on the road, as it were…And we are On-On! 37 Hashers at yesterday’s event.On the mean streets of my subdivision, Alta Vista.Of course, walking through my neighborhood is what I do every day with the dogs, so nothing to get excited about. I’d say half the time the Hash will pass through Alta Vista on the way to or from one of the mountain trails. So I was really surprised yesterday when we just did a big loop and came back into Barretto.The best view of the day…The rest of the walk was pretty much like this…Bush Diver (in yellow) and Vienna Sausage (in red) veered off shortly thereafter to find their own trail in the mountain.Passed by my favorite eatery, Sin-n-Bull. One nice thing about the day was we ordered our after-Hash meals from here for delivery to our On-Home at Hot Zone. The final kilometer was walking down the National Highway which is always a real treat. Not!But I made it back to Hot Zone safe and sound…Sit-n-Bull sends over a couple of waitresses with menus. They take our orders, call them in, and our food is delivered right to where we are seated. I had the Salisbury steak with cole slaw and baked beans. Quite tasty!For our dining entertainment we got to watch the ice being delivered.Slot Licker and H.I.V. celebrated birthdays and in the Hash tradition we made them a cake. On their head!The Hares, Goes with a Dickhead and Bum Burglar, take their seat on the ice while receiving feedback from the Kennel on their Shitty Trail.The obligatory photo of “gash” on ice…And we welcomed and deflowered a Hash virgin.
And that’s about it. Oh, and we drank us some beers too.
Next week’s Hash will be much better. I can personally guarantee it. Unless it rains.
Melody: The Mickey Mouse Club Lyrics: S-H-I, T-T-Y T-R-A-I-L Shitty trail (It sucked!) Shitty trail (Totally fucked!) I’d rather sit here And drink my beer Than run your shitty trail
Now that I have your attention. I’ll get to the good stuff soon, just be patient.
I do things systematically around here, ya know. Let me check my list. Yep, just finished my nap so it’s time for my daily blog post.
Anyway, my life pretty much is that simple and routine. It is what it is and I’m not complaining about it.
Mother nature gave me a fine morning for a walk, so I took advantage and got a long one in. Since I can’t complain about the rain I’ll just say “damn, it’s hot when the sun is out!”
There’s always something to see when you are out and about if you keep your eyes open.
Like these boys fishin’ old school style at the local shit water hole. I personally wouldn’t eat anything that comes out of that toilet, but that’s just me.And no, that shack isn’t on fire. The health department was actually out spraying for mosquitoes today. I’ve never seen that before here. Guess the dengue has spread to this area. Something else kinda interesting in this photo is that despite the poverty that living in this squatter ville implies, they’ve still got a satellite dish on the roof. Good for them!And in what is pretty big news for my little town, we are getting a Divimart! That’s a combo grocery/department store apparently. Very popular and the locals are glad to not have to go to Olongapo or Subic town to go shopping now. I especially like the abbreviation on the sign which perfectly captures Filipino illogic. I’ve never seen “market” shortened that way, but if space were an issue, why not abbreviate department? Who knows? Who cares! This is the Philippines damn it!Okay, I really don’t know what “Filipino style” tomato sauce is all about. I found this in my kitchen so apparently the domestic helper prefers this taste in whatever it is she cooks for herself.Speaking of food, I had dinner at Sit-n-Bull last night. I think it has become my favorite restaurant overall in town. The pulled pork sandwich came in two sizes and I opted for the large. It was awesome. I had to pay extra for the side of cole slaw, but it was well worth it. Yummy!
Okay, sometimes I get bored (shaddup!) so I’ll step out of my comfort zone. Like today I answered a question on Quora (yes, that’s still a thing) about the skin color of Filipinos. Why someone asked that, I have no clue. And no one else had submitted an answer so I stepped up to the plate. Bottom line, Filipinos run the gamut from fair/light complected to very dark. I even included some photos:
This is one of the indigenous Aeta people. Almost African in appearance.One the other end of the spectrum, a famous actress here named Sharon Cuneta. You can see the coveted Spanish blood in this one…As for me, I really do appreciate the natural brown beauties that are in abundance here.
I could do a whole post on the skin color thing here. Lots of advertisements for “whitening” cream and the like. Being fair skinned is what most Filipinas seem to covet, so they try and avoid being overly exposed to the sun. I find it all kinda sad, but I guess it’s a culture thing that I don’t fully understand.
Alright, and now the moment you’ve been waiting for. I didn’t attend the SOB dance competition this week, but my friend John always goes and takes photos and videos. According to him, this gal is one of the best at doing a twerk dance. At least that night. It’s only a minute long, so I’ll let you judge for yourselves. No nudity or anything like that, but probably NSFW either. And turn down the sound, the music is godawful.
Anyway, wind gusts and heavy rainfall appeared to have been a fatal combination for this lonely tree outside my kitchen window. This morning the caretaker who lives in the basement servant quarters of my house had his son out there hacking off branches with a machete. I figured they were just chopping up the remains to make for easier disposal, but nope:
Replanted and restored, more or less. No idea what the umbrella is all about though.
The rain has now settled into a pattern of sorts, coming in waves or cycles that I’m getting better at predicting. I was pleased to have accurately assessed a window of over an hour for yesterday afternoon’s walk. I repeated that success this morning. As I write this post I’m waiting for a good opportunity to hike some more. I predict I’ll be good to go in a couple of hours. We’ll see.
What else? Well, in more news from the backyard, my dog Lucky has now discovered he has the ability to jump the wall. Buddy has always been able to do so, hence the need to secure him with a 12 foot leash when he’s outside. I’ll be purchasing a similar setup for Lucky soon.
But in the meantime he’s spending his outside time in that enclosure. Not much higher than the wall, but so far at least it has successfully stymied Lucky’s efforts to escape.
And that’s really about it from here. Unless you want to look at this keen map of the Philippines:
I live in the Central Luzon area, Zambales Province. There in the upper left quadrant.
Okay, and this made me laugh:
When a penny for your thoughts is too much, it’s good to have zero sense.
This Epstein affair is pretty shocking too. With the previously exposed corruption of the FBI and it’s failed coup attempt, and now the DOJ apparently ensuring loose lips won’t be sinking any of the elite purveyors of underage girls, it’s almost as if the USA has become a banana republic.
Maybe all this wind we’ve been experiencing is just a bunch of big sighs of relief.
Eh. Makes me glad to be far, far away in my little slice of heaven.
