Itchy and scratchy

The struggle continues…

Once again I failed to make it out to Baloy, but It Doesn’t Matter suited my purpose just fine. I’m rather fond of the camaraderie with the friendly expats who also hang out there. A nice change of pace from drinking exclusively with the bargirls.

I had dinner waiting for me at home in the crockpot:

Eat my balls!

Another rough night of trying to sleep with itchy hands and feet. Hopefully, I can get a doctor’s appointment tomorrow.

It’s been unseasonably warm these past few days. I’m sweaty even after a brief early morning dog walk. I keep hearing rainy season is imminent and I’m looking forward to having something different to complain about.

I have it on good authority that it will be chili this afternoon at least.

Yes, the Hash On-Home today is at the Alta Vista clubhouse and I’m contributing a double-sized batch of chili to help assuage the after-hike hunger of my fellow Hashers. There is really nothing special about my chili, but I do appreciate the positive feedback I get from the customers. A couple of folks even ask for takeout. If my bar-owning fantasy ever came true (it won’t!) I’d keep a pot of chili on the stove every day. The house specialty and it goes down easy when accompanied by an icy cold beer. I’d rather dream about it than do it, though.

That’s it for today. Hopefully one day soon I’ll have something exciting to post about. Hmm, maybe I I should be careful what I wish for.

Man go Out back, scratch that

More of the same around here, but at least I got a little creative with the headline. Or stupid. Either way, it’s a fair description of my night.

I did not make it out to Baloy Beach yesterday. I was headed in that direction, then decided to detour to see if I could find “mama” and give her some food money. She wasn’t in the usual places though, and since I was already there I said “fuck it” and crossed the street to Mango’s. I don’t visit there as frequently as I used to, but the waitress still treated me like a regular. I took my usual beachside seat and settled in to drink some beers. Quite a few folks were out enjoying the sea and sand, almost all of them Filipino. The new normal I suppose. When hungry time came, I ordered up my favorite–grilled pork chops. Then the tables got full, the service got slow, and I got up and left.

As I was making my way up the highway I saw “mama” and gave her her allowance. She responded with her usual “I love you, papa” and all was right and normal in my world.

I still wasn’t quite ready to go home, so I popped into Outback. Instead of the indoor pub, I sat out at the poolside bar which also features a nice bay view. Enjoyed a couple of more brews and watched the sun go down.

That’s why I’m here.

I’m still dealing with those itching sensations. I’m working hard at learning to resist the urge to scratch which only seems to exacerbate the itch. Easier said than done, especially when I’m lying in bed. The worst is my hands, and my automatic response is to rub vigorously between the fingers. That feels good while I’m doing it, but leaves the hand sore and throbbing afterward. So, I managed to ignore the itch in my hand and the bottom of my foot by sending my mind to its happy place and eventually falling asleep. And then I dreamed about giving my hand a good and satisfying rubbing (hmm, that sounds unintentionally lewd), then I wake up, and I’ll be damned if I hadn’t been rubbing those hands for real in my sleep. Couldn’t go back to sleep with a throbbing hand, so I got up and went downstairs for some of this:

It’s seems to help a little at least.

So, that was my night. Joy arrived at the appointed time to accompany me on my morning walk. I’ll admit I was a little surprised and somewhat impressed with her initiative. I do enjoy some company on the trail and have fantasized about having a female companion who sincerely desires to share in my “hobby.” I decided to forego a mountain climb for her virgin hike but did undertake a good long two-hour trek. I was feeling it towards the end and she admitted her feet were tired as well.

It was nice to have something “new” to look at on my familiar pathway.

I know Joy must have been exhausted because when we reached the highway I asked if she wanted to visit the Jollibee across the street. She said, “no, I want to go back home.” Wow. When a Filipina declines some Jollibee, you know she must be out of it. I gave her Jeepney fare and a thousand pesos for her efforts. I did appreciate her joining me.

Once Joy arrived back at her place she sent me this photo:

Ouch! That’s quite a blister.

It will be interesting to see if she volunteers to join me in the future.

I got an email from my soon-to-be new landlord reminding me that I needed to pay two months’ deposit and the first and last month’s rent before I could move in on the first. That’s 140,000 pesos or $2963.00 at the current exchange rate. So, I opened up my Western Union app to see how to go about wiring money into the specified bank account. It turned out to be a very simple process. Received the confirmation and thought I was good to go. Then came home from the hike and had an email saying I hadn’t completed the transaction. What the hell? So, I opened up the link to see what I’d missed and wala (nothing). I messed around a while and wound up sending the money a second time. Oops. Went back to cancel that transaction and got a message saying that it couldn’t be reversed. Are you shitting me? Well, fuck that. I went to my bank account and transferred the money out of checking and into savings. There’s enough in checking for the first transaction, but not the second. We’ll see what happens next.

And that’s how my day has gone so far. Going to shower up and try and make it out to Baloy this afternoon. Or not. It Doesn’t Matter.

Back on the mean streets of Barretto

I drug my lazy ass out of the house yesterday afternoon with every intention of going directly to Cheap Charlies. Once I hit the highway though I decided to keep on going until I reached Dive In. Not sure why I’m starting to like that place so much, but it’s got a bit of a Cheers vibe going. Jessa, the bartender/ex-girlfriend, always calls me by her nickname for me, “Gwapo” (handsome). Gerlie, a woman I know from darts, was there with her man, and they bought me a beer before I’d even sat down. Once again, Jessa was being tended to by another patron, but a waitress named Lovely filled the void on the barstool next to me, so of course, I bought her a couple of lady drinks. Good times!

I stayed a little longer at Dive In than I had intended, but I had promised Eunice, one of my regulars at Cheap Charlies, that I’d be coming for a visit. Once I arrived and took my seat, I looked around and discovered she was with a customer buying her DOUBLE lady drinks (twice the price, twice the commission), something I never do. That’s the way it works though, first comes, first served. Fools that get jealous or upset about a bargirl doing her job should just stay home. Soon enough, I had a gal on either side of me wanting to take advantage of my generosity keep me company. They weren’t disappointed in that regard, I bought them lady drinks and some food.

I had the sweet and sour pork. Pretty tasty!
One thing bars like Dive In can’t compete with is the view. I love the outdoor experience of watching the world go by without me…

I departed Cheap Charlies and made my way up the highway to Queen Victoria, the last bar I pass on my way home. It had been a while since my previous visit. Honestly, I’m not sure how they stay in business. Friday night, almost 8:00, and I’m the only customer. Not good.

This morning I was motivated to get back with the program. I hadn’t walked for two straight days and I told myself no more excuses. It wasn’t like I was planning to walk around the world, but I figured I could ease back into my routine with a walk around the barrio. I accomplished that objective and I have the pictures to prove it.

These are the streets I walked on my morning adventure:

Out my front door and onto Alta Vista Drive.
A left turn onto Acadia…
Through the guard gate, out of the subdivision, and onto Purok 13.
A left turn put me on the National Highway…
A slight detour onto Iloilo street.
The power went off at my house this morning which precluded me from preparing breakfast. I popped into Jewel to remedy that situation.
Decisions, decisions…
I opted for the French toast.
Hunger satisfied and back on the highway.
Albay street…
Then onto Daugupan street.
Then up Gomez.
And then it becomes Gomez Extension…
Across Rizal…
…and over to Jasmine street.
Past Columban College…
Leaving Columban.
Taking comfort in the knowledge that I’m safe from a tsunami.
Plodding along Rizal Extension.
The magic of Abra street.
Back on the National Highway to begin the journey home.
Up La Union street.
Down this sidewalk…
Through this backyard…
Up these steps…
And looking down on Alta Vista…
Going home via Everglades street. This road also leads to my new place. See that house on the left? Same owners as mine. They just rented it to some fool from Manila for 60,000 ($1200.) a month. Will they find a similar sucker for mine? Stay tuned.

So, about an hour and a half of walking on mostly flat paved roads. It’s a start. Joy is going to join me for tomorrow’s hike (it was her idea) but I don’t think I’ll take her up a mountain just yet. We’ll see how it goes and how she does.

Not sure what’s on tap for this evening. I might do Baloy Beach, but without the floating bar it is not as enjoyable. I’ll just take it one step at a time.

Don’t tread on me!

Less than normal

As impossible as it may seem, I have done practically nothing over these past 24 hours. Even by my low standards, that’s quite the accomplishment. Here’s the rundown:

I attended a birthday party yesterday afternoon. It was a Filipina’s party and that meant lots of food and drinks and laughing brown-skinned beauties. I hung out with the guys and enjoyed some nice chats and copious amounts of beer. Drunk when I got back home and in bed before 9:00 p.m. As usual.

Didn’t feel like doing the Friday hike today, so I didn’t. I’m going to cut myself some slack and listen to my body more. I feel tired a lot so maybe I should rest more. Of course, my good intentions for doing something productive went by the wayside as well. I had thought about checking out a medical clinic here in Barretto this morning, but I took a nap instead.

When I got up I watched a couple more installments of Lonesome Dove. Damn, it’s a well-done show. Almost as good as the book. Thinking about that reminded me of when I used to be a rather voracious reader. These days I barely have the attention span to get through an interesting article I find on the internet. Still, two 90 minute episodes of a show I’ve seen before is something of an accomplishment I suppose.

I got a message from one of the gals at Cheap Charlies asking where I’ve been. Guess that means it is time to pay them a visit again. That should take care of my Friday night at least.

I hope to be back to normal soon!

As bad as it gets around here.

No blood, no moon

No real significance in my posting this, I just liked the sentiment.

Another typical day in the life. Beers at Dive In and a couple of drinks with Jessa. Then I headed out to Palm Tree, assuming it would be a good place to watch the sun and moon do their dance. I was wrong about that. I’m not sure where the moon was at the appointed hour, perhaps behind the mountain. Ah, well. Crossed the highway, grabbed my wings, went home and ate, then called it a night.

Sometimes I wish I had a woman in my life who loves me the way my Buddy boy does. Greets me with a hug when I come home at night, and another when I wake up in the morning.
In Tagalog, bullshit translates as bola bola. If the mask fits, wear it asshole.
I finally got to experience the Monte Cristo at the Pub this morning. Good, but not as good as I remember. I prefer honey as a dipping sauce to jelly…

Yesterday’s hike was a pleasant 6K. Well, it would have been more pleasant if I felt better, but I was still glad to be out and about. Here a few pics to give you the flavor of our morning.

We departed from my house. Scott joined us later on the trail.
Easter mountain was looking good as usual.
There isn’t much thatch grass left these days, most of it has been burned off. So, it was a little surprising to have this encounter.
My favorite view on the day.
A little slick on the down hill, right Scott?
Waiting on the stragglers…
We crossed this bridge when we came to it, then made our way back to Barretto. I wasn’t feeling up to the libations at Dynamite Dicks, so took a pass.
Thank you for supporting this post.

That’s all I’ve got for now. More to come tomorrow.

Something ain’t right

I guess it’s time for me to find out what the hell is going on inside this old body of mine. I can’t cure what ails me until I know what’s causing my symptoms, so that means seeking the help of a medical professional. Here’s what I’ve been dealing with for the past several days:

  • Sinus congestion–I’m pretty sure this is related to my chronic obstructive pulmonary disease (COPD), but it has been getting more severe. Most nights I wake up so clogged I need to come downstairs and use my nebulizer so my lungs can function more effectively. It used to be I only had this problem while sleeping, but lately, I’m congested during the daytime too.
  • Low energy–the lethargy and lack of stamina continue. Even the slightest climb leaves me huffing and puffing. Some days it takes all my willpower to even go out and attempt a hike, other days I say fuck it and stay home. That’s not like me, and I don’t like feeling that way.
  • Heart rate–one of the things I monitor on a daily basis is resting heart rate. It’s recently gone up from the low 60s to 75 beats per minute (bpm), the highest it’s been since I’ve been checking it. From what I’ve read, I don’t need to be concerned unless it goes to over 100 bpm, but the fact that it has risen so much so quickly makes me wonder why.
  • Itchy hands and feet–this is a very recently occurring problem, and it is especially bad at night. It’s not bites or skin issues (no rash or other marks), it is something internal. I hate this symptom the most because it makes it difficult to sleep at night. According to the internet, this kind of itchiness is sometimes related to kidney or liver disease. Well, I can’t imagine that any of my habits would affect my kidneys or liver, but you never know until you check.

Gonna see if I can schedule a full physical examination and consultation with a physician to discuss these issues and find a resolution I can live with. Stay tuned.

Despite my medical issues, I still managed to find a little Joy in my life. We had a pleasant lunch at Mango’s yesterday. I’ve got to give her credit, she is sticking to the script almost perfectly. Sure, she will occasionally hint around about something more, but when I say “that’s not what I’m looking for” she backs off immediately. She has also been very good about not asking for cash or other gifts. Joy does have a birthday coming up and I will reward her with a shopping excursion if she continues to play by the rules of the “friends with benefits program” we’ve established.

After lunch, Joy accompanied me back home. I was content to just cuddle for a bit and maybe take a nap. Joy wasn’t having that, and before long she made it, um, too hard for me to say no. That’s another thing in her favor–enthusiasm! And if she is faking those orgasms she deserves an academy award. Anyway, I sent her home with $70, some treats for her kids, and a smile on her face. We’ll meet again in two weeks and celebrate her 32nd birthday. So far, at least, we are both getting what we want and need.

For my evening entertainment, I visited It Doesn’t Matter. As is my custom I sat outside, but the place was hopping inside and out. I’m glad they are doing well in these difficult times. I might have been on my fourth beer or so when I see a young woman walking her dog. And lo and behold, it was Marick, the gal I bought the kimbap from last week. I asked if she would like to join me for a beer and she handed me her dog and came in to join me. We had a nice chat and I asked her why she didn’t come to the Hash anymore. She said she couldn’t afford the 350 peso entry fee. I mentioned that I sponsored several gals each week and she would be welcome to join in. She finished her beer and headed back to work. This morning Marick sent me a message asking if I would indeed sponsor her for the Hash? I told her “of course!”, and she said she’d see me there. It will be fun to see where this goes.

That’s Marick on our hike to Mount Santa Rita last December.

Will I live long enough to fall in love again? And if I do, will I die of a broken heart? I reckon there’s only one way to find out.

This afternoon I hear Dive In beckoning to me. Perhaps I’ll get the chance to share a drink or two with sweet Jessa. It’s also Wednesday, so that means some Korean wings from The Pub are in my future. Speaking of which, John Kim has introduced a new sandwich:

The Monte Cristo I’ve been craving all these years! I stopped in for one last night on the way home only to discover it is only available for breakfast or lunch. Oh well, I’ll go in the morning I suppose.

I’ll be back tomorrow with pictures from today’s Wednesday Walkers hike and any other adventures that might befall me tonight. See you then!

In the shadow of the mountain

Three straight days of Hashing has resulted in three consecutive posts here about Hashing. I’m not sure which is harder to endure. This is the last one until next week, I promise!

Perhaps the most interesting thing to happen took place at our sign-up venue, the VFW. A youngish guy (comparatively speaking, probably in his 40s) came in and was asking about joining the Hash. I let the Grandmaster do the explaining, but later as the guy was leaving he said, “you’re McCrarey, aren’t you?” I nodded and asked how he knew my name, he responded “I’ve read your blog.” I asked him how he happened upon my humble ramblings and he told me he just did a Google search for pictures of Barretto. It’s a little scary being reminded that I’m not quite as anonymous as I think I am. Oh, well. From day one of blogging I believed if you didn’t put your name on what you wrote, it didn’t deserve to be read. Back then I was more political, having your name publically associated with what is essentially a diary is a little more uncomfortable. I’m not going to censor myself, although I might try to be a bit more discrete discreet on some topics so people other than me are not identifiable. It’s a small town and in some ways it’s small-minded.

The Hash trail itself was nothing to complain about. Familiar territory, but some new paths. That’s always a nice touch. Our shortcutting efforts backfired and we wound up adding a couple of extra kilometers in an effort to avoid a hot climb. That’s the way it goes sometimes. Here are some photos for your enjoyment:

We left the VFW and made our way to Alta Vista…
walked the streets of the subdivision for a bit…
…and then headed on down to the valley.
A bit of a steep descent ahead, so I got my camera ready to document any Hash crash…
But ISD made it with no problem…
…and so did Pubic Head.
Down then up.

And now a quick break in the action to meet the girls:

Hello there, Preying Mantis.
Nice to see you, Cum In My Basement.
Looking good, Whatever You Want.

Alright then, now where were we?

Oh yeah, we were Hashing.
That seems to be a prominent landmark.
We may be in the shadow of the mountain…
…but there ain’t much shade.

Things went awry for my group a short time later. We missed a right turn and took a left. So we made our own way back, but it wasn’t as pleasant as what the Hares had prepared for us.

It’s never much fun to hike the National Highway!
On Home was also at the VFW. We had over 50 in attendance and, frankly, that’s more than this venue can handle comfortably. It was really frustrating because it seems the noise and chatter were amplified in such a way that the circle events could not be heard. I sat outside and sulked instead.

And there you have it. Still taking a break from darts, I might go back to that next week. Tonight I hear It Doesn’t Matter calling to me.

Nailed it!

The Angeles City Corona Hash outstation run has been successfully completed. By that I mean it appears everyone survived which is never a sure thing when Guenter is the Hare. His trail took over 5 hours to complete and involved several big mountain climbs. A few folks came back covered in dirt and with some scrapes and bruises from falling. I’m told one of the downhills was so steep that sliding on your ass was the only viable way to get down. Well, not for me, but most of the folks who did that trail seemed to enjoy the challenge.

I got drafted to help mark the “sane” trail. It was a 6K jaunt up the paved road to Tibag and back again. We did have a 1K section that was off-road, but nothing real challenging other than the first half being gently all uphill. We started marking at 11:30 and finished just before the scheduled 1:00 p.m. start time (the folks braving Guenter’s long trail had started at 10:00). We were basically camping out riverside in the middle of nowhere so it was surprising when our group was confronted by a couple of armed soldiers. They asked what we were doing (hiking) and if we had a permit from the barangay in Naugsol (no). I guess they decided we were not terrorists or otherwise a threat because they wished us well and continued on with their patrol.

The only interesting event I experienced on the short trail was stepping on this:

Not exactly sure what it is…not really a nail, more like a piece of wire…maybe from a fence.

So, I’m walking along and I feel something sharp poking me in the foot, kind of like having a rock in your shoe, only pointed I shook my foot around some trying to dislodge whatever was stabbing me, to no avail. I had no choice but to remove my shoe.

This is the recreation of what I saw.

I stepped on that wire in such a way that it fit perfectly into the tread of my shoe, almost as if it was designed for that purpose. The short pointed end went through the sole of my shoe and poked me in the foot. It wasn’t quite long enough to penetrate through the cushion inside the shoe (or pierce my skin) but made it impossibly uncomfortable to walk. Pulling that wire out was reminiscent of the dentist trying to yank my tooth, but I managed to free my shoe of this unwanted intruder. Call it fate or maybe Karma, but that wire had to be perfectly positioned in the dirt and I had to step on it in precisely the right way in order for it to have the impact it did. What are the odds?

Let’s get to the good stuff–pictures from the Subic Hash Facebook page from yesterday’s event.

Guenter’s trail in yellow, the sane trail in blue.
Since we were basically camping out, all our gear (beer and ice) had to be transported out to our outstation location.
My fellow Hares, Buddy Fucker and Pubic Head.
Let’s get this trail marked!
In downtown Tibag, such as it is…
The long slog up…
No wonder I’m so slow…looks like I’m taking baby steps.
Gave this hardworking family we encountered some cookies
Heading back across the river to our campsite.
Surrounded by some awesome mountains. I’d rather look at them than climb them!
The Hashmobile arrives…
Pubic Head guiding some late arrivals to the trailhead…
Yougini grilling up some meats…
Anal Intruder guarding the Hashmobile…
Hiking the sane trail…
People started returning from the long and short trails and it was beer o’clock!
Building the camp fire…
Happy campers.
Chillaxin’
Brown in white looks pretty good to me!
And so does Preying Mantis…
Washing off the dirt from the trail…
Our improvised campground.
The last returners…
Circle up!
Doing my time for some Hash crime…
Sorry for the short post!

I’m running late for today’s Subic Hash. I’ll be back tomorrow with more!

Beach, please

Yesterday’s hike with the Corona Hashers from Angeles turned out to be a beach walk. Not real surprising, I suppose. I had it in mind that we would be hiking from the Treasure Island meet-up and finishing at the Da’ Kudos On-Home venue. That was true for the long (10K) trail, but the 5K trail I took required a truck ride out to barangay Kalaklan, then basically just following the beach all the way back to Baloy. I’d done that hike numerous times, but not recently. Yesterday was a good reminder of why I don’t take the beach route more often. I’ll let the pictures tell the story.

I really, really dislike riding in the Hashmobile. It’s as uncomfortable as it looks and my mind can’t help but think of all the potential disasters associated with this unsafe mode of travel.
But we made it safely to the drop-off point and began our march to the beach.
Making our way down from the highway…
…passing some shanties along the way…
…before finally arriving at the water.
The tide was high.
Looking for a way to get across an inconveniently placed river…
…but in the end wading proved to be the only option.
The sand before the rocks…
And what rocks they were! Always a pain in the ass to scramble over, but the high tide required taking a higher and more treacherous route.
She’s got some mountain goat in her…
The worst is over now.
Glad to put that behind me…
Oh, good. My shoes are almost dry and here’s another river crossing…
Life’s a beach sometimes.
Back On-Home at Da’ Kudos the Subic contingent gives a welcome to the visiting Hashers from Angeles City.
And in return I was welcomed to have a seat on the ice.
And then the sun set on another day of Hashing.

Today I’ll also being Hashing with the Angeles crew. This time we are meeting up in Tibag. There are three trails–long, medium, and short; I’ll be taking the short route which doesn’t involve climbing the highest mountain in the area (up to Tralala). Should be fun, regardless. I like the area and we will be doing a cookout and enjoying our beers out there in the wilds.

Full report tomorrow!

A kimbap kind of day

The Angeles City Hashers are in town this weekend doing an outstation event, featuring runs today and tomorrow. I’ll be participating in both. Today’s Hash starts at 3:00 with short (5K) and longer (10K) trails that the Hare promises are mostly flat. Well, I’m going to do the short trail because the circle starts at 5:00, and I’m not sure I can pull off 10K in two hours. The circle is scheduled to end at 6:00 and will be followed by a bar crawl. I’m still undecided about whether I’ll participate in that.

This may be a stretch for me, even on my best days. We’ll see. I guess I can always shortcut.

Anyway, since I’ve got a trail to do later on I opted not to do a morning walk. With some time to kill, I fired up the TV and watched the movie Groundhog Day. I’m not sure when I saw it last, but was a little surprised that the film debuted in 1993–28 years ago. Damn, that made me feel old. Of course, I remembered the story, but I had forgotten some of the scenes. So it was fun to see them again as if for the first time. I guess that should make me feel old too. I also couldn’t help but think how much my life parallels the plot of the film. Pretty much every day is some combination of walking and drinking, varying only in minor details like where I am and who is with me. Of course, Bill Murray’s character grew and developed through repetition in a way that is unlikely to occur in my life, but I don’t mind being what and who I am until I am no more. And there are enough wrinkles in the fabric of my mundane existence to keep things relatively interesting.

Here’s an example of what I mean. I have a friend named Marick (and yes, I wish she was more than that, but that’s another story), she’s got a small business where she makes and sells different kinds of food for her clientele, although I’ve never previously bought anything from her. I noticed she posted on her Facebook page yesterday morning that she was making kimbap.

I’m not ab expert, but it looks pretty good to me.
I haven’t had kimbap since I left Korea, and I only occasionally ate it there. I’m just not big on rice.

So, yesterday afternoon as I was preparing to head out for my daily bar excursion I get a message from Marick. Seems she had three containers of kimbap unsold and she asked if I was interested in making a purchase. Well, I’m always willing to help out a friend, so I told her I would swing by her shop on my way to the bars.

It just seems I can’t tell a pretty girl no.

When I arrived she still had all three containers available, so I bought them for 150 pesos each. We chatted a bit and then I headed out with my bounty. I hadn’t really planned to visit Dive In but since I found myself on that side of town it was convenient to drop by to see Jessa and her crew. On my previous visits there hadn’t been many customers, but last night the place was packed. Jessa had a guy plying her with drinks, so at least I didn’t have to pay for the privilege. I had a couple of beers and shared my recently purchased kimbap with the staff. I had a couple of pieces and found it rather bland, but as I said, I’m not an expert on what it should taste like. The girls seemed to enjoy it okay, although when I left probably half of it was still unconsumed.

I wandered up the highway and decided to have a “real” meal at Mango’s. Got my regular beachside seat and set to work on meeting my beer consumption goals.

My Mango’s view.
A view of my lonely life.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not complaining. Got my porkchops to go and headed on home. Another Groundhog Day with a twist of kimbap and a lack of Jessa, just to change things up a bit.

Earlier in the day, I participated in the Friday group hike. The original intent was to do the Black Rock ridge, a climb I was dreading given my recent physical issues. I was resolved to at least make the attempt and retreat if necessary, but to my relief the people up front decided on a different course. We wound up with a mostly pleasant 8K hike. Here are some photos:

Our path.
Movin’ on out.
Yes, they are still doing that ignorant and valueless checkpoint.
Getting off the highway.
The path narrows
Our “big” climb.
Halfway up Scott overcomes temptation…
Free from the stairs at last!
A group shot.
Through the grass…
Black Rock ridge will be there when we return.
A lovely poem.
Gash on the rocks…
Heading back down…
Cookies here…
…and cookies there.
Your humble correspondent once again is bringing up the rear.
Time for refreshments…
Glad my days as a mattress salesman are over (and that they never began).
Marching through town.
And marching out of town.
We didn’t start the fire!
Almost there, up into Alta Vista.
For you lovers of Easter mountain.
Rehydration at Palm Tree.
And so concludes another hiking post.

Even these walks have a Groundhog Day vibe, don’t they?

A sucky day

Hey, even in paradise sometimes things just don’t go according to plan. Take yesterday for example. Thursday is usually my long solitary walk day. Instead, I never left the house until late in the afternoon. Poor dogs! Well, I did let them outside to take care of business but they didn’t get their customary walk. Do I have any excuse for such laziness? Other than to argue being lazy wasn’t my motivation, no. I just didn’t feel up to doing much of anything at all. I spent a goodly part of the day in bed. I don’t know, maybe my body was just saying it needed a break. For the most part, though, it just felt like a wasted day.

I did manage a blog post and I also baked up a batch of cornbread. Around 4:30 I headed out to Cheap Charlies for my daily beer ration. About halfway there I was regretting my decision–it was hot and I didn’t feel like walking. I carried on though, but knew I wouldn’t be staying long; I had steaks to grill back at the house. And just over an hour later, I was home again and busy putting together my dinner menu: ribeyes, baked potato, broccoli, corn-on-the-cob, and cornbread.

And here’s how all that goodness looked on the plate.

Actually, I’m not happy with the steaks I’ve been getting from the meat lady. Sure, they are tender and USDA quality beef, but they are just too damn thin. Hell, they were falling apart when I turned them on the grill. I’m going to need to find a new source for my steaks. I was happy with the cornbread though, I hadn’t made a batch for quite some time. Had a chunk with my breakfast today and added a little honey on top. Yum!

Shortly after eating, the suckiness returned. I found myself short of breath. That used to happen quite often before I started my meds, but now it is unusual enough to be concerning. I did two doses of my bronchodilator juice with the nebulizer. That seemed to help.

And oh yeah, I have an ingrown fingernail on my thumb. It’s been a few days and last night it was swollen and extremely painful. My helper did her best to relieve the pressure and dig out the offending nail, but damn, it was excruciating. Luckily, if feels much better today. I’m even using my thumb for the keyboard space bar again!

So I go upstairs to bed, but I had difficulty sleeping. I had an itchy foot. I tried to ignore it to no avail. I finally got up and put some hydrocortisone on the offending area. I laid back down and then my leg began itching. I was thinking damn, the mosquitos are aggressive tonight, but when I looked for tell-tale signs of a bite, there weren’t any. No idea what the itching was all about, but it lasted through the night and resulted in a very fitful sleep.

Alright, I reckon that’s enough whining for one post. I know people who are dealing with some serious medical issues (welcome home from the hospital, Kevin!), and I am blessed indeed to be as healthy as I am. I do feel a lot better today and was able to participate in the Friday group hike, so there’s that. I also have a full weekend of Hashing ahead of me. I’ll share more about that tomorrow.

In the meantime, Facebook reminded me that I posted this gem back in 2013:

I think I’ve forgotten more than I ever knew about grammar…

A commenter left this on my Facebook page in response:

Yeah, it’s all good.

Well, it’s Friday night, so you know what that means. Time to go out and sweet talk the bargirls:

Damn, I hate when that happens!

Yeah, I’ve probably used that cartoon here before, but I can’t remember. That’s the nice thing about being forgetful–everything old is new again!

Get off my land!

An interesting Wednesday Walkers group hike yesterday. I’ll get to that in a minute and share some photos from the day. But first, let’s talk about the beer!

Another good night of drinking, this time at Dive In with Jessa and the girls. I do enjoy Jessa’s company, but then again, I only see her once a week. Maybe that’s the secret! Had some beers, bought some lady drinks, played some pool, and fed the girls some pizza. Good times! When it came time for me to move on towards the house, I popped into The Pub for my weekly fix of chicken wings.

Tasty as usual!
Tasty as usual!

After eating my fill, I headed upstairs and slept the peaceful sleep of the inebriated.

Speaking of being a drunk bastard, I came across this article today, which claims that ANY amount of alcohol causes damage to the brain. Well, in all seriousness, I have seen some deterioration in my cognitive abilities lately. These mostly manifest in small but irritating ways–frequent typos and misspellings, forgetfulness, and an occasional lack of clarity in my thought processes–sort of a fuzzy feeling in my head. Now, I’m 65 years old and some of this is likely just the natural decline that comes with aging. Maybe if I were still a working man I’d worry about it more. I’m retired and enjoying my life. And some of that enjoyment comes from downing a frosty cold bottle of beer or three. So, if I’m destined to become Biden-like and beer hastens my journey to dementia, so be it.

I’ll need to take this test again wearing my beer goggles.

And here’s the bottom line:

The science is settled!

Alright, now where was I? Oh yeah, the Wednesday hike. Our intention was to hike up to the Kalaklan ridge using a route we hadn’t taken recently. Our efforts were stymied initially by a locked gate, and later by a recently constructed fence. We eventually found an alternative way up, but then discovered we were somehow fenced in. No one was willing to retreat back down the steep trail we had just climbed, so we wandered around some looking of an opening in the fence. And then we encountered an old woman carrying a bolo knife (machete) who was not at all happy about our presence on “her land.” We explained we were just hiking through but she was having none of it. We tried to ignore her but she continued to follow us around yelling stuff in Tagalog. We had a couple of Filipinas with us and they translated that she was saying that previous hikers had damaged her fence (no doubt looking for a way out). She finally offered to escort us to “the gate.” With no other obvious option (other than damaging the fence) we reluctantly let her lead us partially down the mountain, where she unlocked the gate and pointed for us depart. I tried to give her a bag of cookies as a peace offering, but she refused and gestured for me to get off her land. And that is just what we did. Then we reclimbed the mountain on the other side of her fence and made it up to the ridge road with no further problems.

Here are some photos from the hike:

The trail we hiked. That noose-like line marks our retreat at the direction of the bolo-armed old woman.
Our rather large group at our meet-up location. Actually, that guy in the sleeveless white shirt was a beggar we all ignored.
So, we had intended to make our way up on the other side of that creek to the left. But the path was blocked by a locked gate.
They say the longest journey begins with a single step. Our 5K hike started with a couple of hundred steps…
When the steps ran out the going didn’t get any easier. Quite the opposite.
On up. Watch those leaves, they are slippery! See that fence on the right? We were on the old woman’s turf and didn’t know it. Yet.
Did I mention the climb was a steep mother fucker in places?
At least it was mostly shady and there was a breeze. Kept it from feeling oppressively hot.
After making our escape from the clutches of the old woman, we are on the right side of the fence.
Go tell it on the mountain…
Love this view. Our hike began on that highway you see way down below.
On the ridge at last!
A well-earned rest stop.
On the Great Wall of Barretto.
Bay view…
Mountain view.
That’s me demonstrating the “putting one foot in front of the other” technique.
A final group shot from up top.
Don’t want to disappoint you Easter mountain fans out there.
Heading on down…
Okay, I get they are siblings sharing a family resemblance, but damn, the exact same facial expression? A little scary if you ask me.
And oh yeah, my bitching and moaning about how hard these hikes are? Look at what these gals are carrying up the mountain on their head, back, and shoulders. Damn impressive!
Cookie time!
Rehydration and lunch at Dynamite Dick’s.
Our lovely waitress, Crystal. When I asked her if she was looking for a boyfriend she gave me an expressionless deadpan answer: “you’d be disappointed.”

And that was my Wednesday.

Hope you enjoyed this mountainous post.

Like pulling teeth

You would be looking for great info about regular dental check ups. But I feel a little weird writing about my dental appointment while my friend Kevin Kim is in the hospital recovering from a stroke, but my visit with Dr. Barrera was the highlight of my day, so check over here to know my experience with a dental checkup.

First time with this dentist and I was quite impressed. Dr. Barrera is a very personable and friendly guy who made me feel at ease right away. People can also check 904implant.com/transformations for the best dental services. He was wearing one of those full-body protective suits, so I still don’t know what he looks like, but his English was so good and lacking an accent that I almost asked if he had been raised in the USA. Decided that would be rude so I didn’t. He engaged me in small talk as he prepared for the extraction and it turns out we know some of the same people and we are neighbors of our sort–he owns a lot in Alta Vista. I laughed when he told me about meeting one of my landlords and coming away feeling like the guy was on the shady side. He was surprised they’d been so stupid as to run off a long-term tenant in the manner that they did. Anyway, Dr. Barrera seems like a nice enough guy, but can he pull a tooth?

Turns out he can, but my tooth didn’t make it easy for him. The night before my appointment, a piece had broken off in my mouth. Other than a wisdom tooth, I’d never had a tooth extracted. I figured it would be like in the movies where you just grab it with the pliers and give a yank. Instead, I was in the chair for almost an hour. The tooth kept breaking apart which necessitated digging it out piece by piece. And I guess those roots didn’t want to give up their long-term residence. Dr. Barrera had numbed me up of course, but damn, some of that yanking and grinding was downright uncomfortable. But in the end, it all came out fine .It is always better to consult a emergency dentist Mineola at the earlier stage to avoid unbearable pain and suffering .

No pain to speak of today. I asked about an implant and Dr. Barrera advised I’d need to wait several weeks for the gums to completely heal. He also suggested a bridge might be a better option. So, I will be walking around with this hole in my head for some time to come it looks like. Still, it was not a bad experience under the circumstances. Doc Berrara sent me home with some pain pills I haven’t needed and advised me I should forego my Listerine mouthwash for a few days. He did say cold drinks would be fine, which was all I needed to hear! And oh yeah, the whole procedure cost me a grand total of 2500 pesos ($50.). Not bad!

Dynamite Dick’s is practically next door to the dentist’s office, and as I walked by Dick called out to me “what are you doing?” Told him I just had a tooth pulled and he insisted on buying me a beer. So, there I am drinking a cold one with the cotton pad still on my recently bleeding gum. I ditched the pad so as to properly enjoy my beer. Met another guy at the table named Mike. Turns out he retired and moved her in 2018 as well. He spent his working life at the US Postal Service, mostly as a letter carrier. Well met, indeed!

A few more beers at It Doesn’t Matter, then I was off to Sit-n-Bull for some dinner. A nightcap at Queen Victoria, then a trike ride on home. A good night’s sleep and no issues today. Life is good!

Hellish Hash

I’ve never been there, so I can’t attest that it was hotter than hell on yesterday’s Hash. Hot enough for a governmental heat warning to be issued, not that that stopped us. Apparently, it was 95 degrees. and the heat index made it feel like 107. Yeah, it’s been hot lately, but I do most of my walking in the mornings. The Hash starts at 2:00 which apparently is the peak time of the day for hotness. When I hit the 3K mark it felt like I had been nearly drained of energy, and every step I took was harder than the last. For the first time in my Hash career, I actually stopped at a sari-sari store for some Gatorade.

No complaints about the actual trail, or the portion I did anyway. I took a shortcut that eliminated a climb and a little distance. Mother Nature just whupped my ass. Here are some photos from the day:

We are On-On!
Hello there, Praying Mantis. There’s an old joke about the only thing better than long legs wrapped around your back is short legs trying. I can picture this gal saying “wanna bet?”
I guess this doesn’t qualify as a climb, but it is uphill. I’ve used this sidewalk numerous times and it’s tougher than it looks going up.
We’ve only just begun…
Ah, the familiar streets of Alta Vista.
That’s me walking away from my house. Back to the future!
Steep and slippery, a dicey combination.
Easy for your skinny little ass to march across that rickety bridge.
This bridge is much more to my liking…
Trying to avoid the sun. Good luck with that!
I really dislike jumping down this wall…Fuck Buddy is much more graceful at it than I am.
Once rainy season arrives walking across this field will be less pleasant.
Stopping at the sari-sari store for some refreshments about half way through the trail.
And a much needed rest break.
Back at it.
My favorite view on the day…
At least these seemingly endless steps were going down…
Don’t drink the water!
On-Home was at Hunter Jo’s Inn. Definitely the Hash venue with the best views.
And cute waitresses too! After a few beers, I got the courage up to ask the one on the right if she had a boyfriend. She immediately and enthusiastically answered “Yes!”
Pubic Head doing what he does best…
We deflowered three Hash virgins.
Fucking Cupcake putting his time on ice to good use chatting up one of the virgins…
And the sun finally ended its torment of the hapless Hashers.
And that’s all for this lovely Hash post.

I’ll be back with more tomorrow, now I’m off to see the dentist.

Palm Tree Sunday

Here is today’s installment about yesterday in the continuing saga of my so-called life. Don’t let the title fool you, this post will not be of Biblical proportions. Hell, even heavenly is out of reach. Yep, just more of the same I’m afraid.

The day started with a walk and ended with some beers. Let’s do the beers first. As I’m walking into town I remained undecided about where to plop my sorry ass to quench my thirst. Then I spotted “mama”, the homeless woman I help, at the 7/11 across the highway. So, I did my best “frogger” imitation and made it safely to the other side. After providing mama her daily food money, I continued into town. On this side of the highway the first bar I came to was Outback. I shrugged and thought “why not?” and went on inside.

It’s a nice bar that I rarely frequent. It was one of the “speakeasy” places I’d visit during the lockdown, at least until I got unjustly banned. The same manager was there and greeted me warmly in a let bygones be bygones kinda way. I sat at the bar so I could chat with the bartender Bhey, who is also a Facebook friend.

After bringing me my beer, Bhey said matter-of-factly, “I’m ugly.” I thought she was kidding, but she was dead serious. So, I bought her a drink with the caveat that I don’t buy ugly girls drinks. She accepted the drink, so my point was proven. I bought her a second drink before I left as well. During our chat I was really surprised to learn that Bhey is 45 years old!

She’s still pretty hot for an elderly woman, don’t you think?

She has three kids, the oldest is a 21 year-old daughter. Bhey crushed my dreams by quickly adding the daughter is pregnant. Oh well.

The next stop was just a couple of blocks up the highway at the Palm Tree Resort hotel. They were rather busy, but I found a comfortable spot on the back deck to enjoy some beer with the bay views.

Quite a few folks enjoying the beach as well.

I was ready for some dinner so I ordered up the pork chops I’d been craving since being denied at Mango’s on Saturday.

They were just okay. Not half as good as what I get next door at Mango’s, but then again, at least they were in stock.

So, I ate and drank and watched the sun go down.

And it felt like things were right in my little part of the world.

And that’s how the day ended. It began with my solitary Sunday walk, but there was a little twist this week. In one of our chats, Joy was lamenting about her lack of cable television. She told me of a provider who was offering an amazing deal, but alas, she didn’t have enough money to take advantage. Yeah, hints don’t get much bigger than that, do they? Being the white knight (well, brown these days) that I am, I offered to cover her shortfall of 1000 pesos ($20.). But how to get it to her? Well, I could wire it via Western Union, but paying five bucks to send twenty seems ridiculous. So, I told Joy I would take a Jeepney to Subic town, and then I’d walk back to Barretto, around 8K or so. She met me in front of Waltermart as agreed and brought her three-year-old son along. Good thing I had some cookies in my backpack!

After handing over the cash and saying our goodbyes, I began my hike back home.

The backstreets of Subic.
A Subic subdivision…
Fiesta homes, a low priced housing development for working class families.
On the Govic highway.
The road to Naugsol…
Damn, that mountain looks familiar…what was it’s name again?
“Downtown” Naugsol…
Nice to see you again…
Off the pavement and onto the beaten path…
That ridge in the distance is my destination–Alta Vista.
And I have finally arrived back in the ‘hood.

It was a good hike despite the oppressive heat. Can’t wait to start complaining about the rain again.

My friend in Cambodia sent me this photograph and asked me what I thought. All I could say is, “if the shoe fits, wear it!”

Looks to be a size 5 or so…

Alright, it’s Hash Monday and I’ve got to run, well, walk, I mean. Speaking of meaning, my Hash name, Cum Together, is not accurately depicted in this cartoon.

No, it’s what me and Joy do when we hook up.

Until next time then.

I guess this post was pretty far out there, wasn’t it?

Sweet tidings

Another Saturday night is behind me. This one turned out to be a little sweeter than most.

I began the night’s journey at Cheap Charlies. I usually sit on the side overlooking the highway but because of the angle of the sun it was too hot to do so. I’m not sure if this turn of events changed my outlook, but it did change my view.

The mountain off in the distance includes the Kalaklan ridge. Made that long hard climb to the top many times. The view looking down from there is nicer than this view looking up, but then again, I’ve never drunk some cold beers up on the ridge either.

While enjoying that sweet view from my stool, I told the bargirl next to me of my dream to build a resort/condominium complex on top of the ridge. And about the cable car system I’d construct to transport visitors and residents up from Barretto. She looked at me like I was crazy. Maybe so, but it is a sweet dream.

After a few beers, my hungry insisted it was time to eat. I had a hankering for some of those Mango’s pork chops, so off I went.

I secured my usual sweet seat on the beach, ordered my beer and chops, then sat back to enjoy the view.

Then the waiter returned and advised that the pork chops were not available–sold out. Damn it! I ordered another beer and contemplated what to do next. I then got a text message from Ron, the owner of Sit-n-Bull, advising me that the cake I had ordered had just arrived from Angeles. Sweet! Well, there you go, problem solved. Finished my beer and moseyed over to SnB. I was still hungry, so I ordered a large pulled pork sandwich with coleslaw for takeout. Of course, I had another beer while I waited on my food.

Got back home and dived right in.

The pulled pork at Sit-n-Bull is outstanding, and last night was no exception. I love the coleslaw too. Sweet eats!

But what about the cake? Well, Ron has opened a Sit-n-Bull restaurant in Angeles. He recently posted about finding a nearby bake shop that specialized in cakes. He started serving slices in his new place and I asked if he was going to bring some to Barretto too. Yep, that was the plan. So the cake I’ve been craving and haven’t been able to find anywhere is a good ol’ fashioned carrot cake. I ordered one a couple of days ago and now I’d be enjoying a sweet dessert tonight.

This is the small version, but still pricey at 900 pesos ($18.). Well, there is no point in being “rich” if you can’t indulge your cravings once in a while, right?
And my of my, this may be the best tasting carrot cake I ever did eat! An explosion of flavors in every bite. Sweet eats indeed!

Speaking of sweets, I came home to find this container of cookies on the countertop:

When I asked my helper where they came from she replied “from the landlord.” Hmm, a little late to be making peace offerings now. I’ve already signed the lease for the new place.

As sweet as the evening was, it did end on a sour note. That tooth I’d had looked at last year broke in half while I was picking at the carrot cake remnants stuck in the hole where the filling had fallen out months ago. The dentist had wanted to pull the tooth during my visit because it was “fractured.” I didn’t want to go around with a hole in my head, so I figured I’d find a better-equipped dentist to do a crown. The filling was just a stopgap measure and I never followed up on the permanent fix. And now it is too late–I’m going to lose a tooth. I just hope it isn’t my sweet tooth!

Facebook shared a memory of the picture I had posted of myself back when I was 21. When I added it to my timeline the Filipinas all said in the comments that I used to be “pogi” (good looking). I responded, “Used to be? I have a lot more money now than I had back then!” Then the gals admitted that I was indeed very “gwapo” (handsome) now.

That’s me in 1976. Pretty sweet, huh?

Well, that’s it from here for now. Thanks for dropping in, it was sweet of you!

Living healthy

I’m sad to report that my friend and fellow blogger, Kevin Kim, has suffered a stroke. The good news is that it does not appear to have been a major stroke; at least Kevin is still mobile and functioning well enough to provide a brief update on his blog He’s going to remain in the hospital for a few days for testing and treatment. Here’s to hoping he makes a fast and full recovery.

Now, Kevin is a big guy but he doesn’t smoke or drink and he can and does outwalk me on a regular basis. That makes it all the scarier knowing something like this could happen to any of us at any time. Frankly, a major debilitating stroke like the one Graham of Cheap Charlies suffered is my health nightmare. There are some things that I consider worse than death, a paralyzing stroke would be one of them. Hearing about Kevin has me reassessing if I’m living a relatively healthy lifestyle.

To begin, I am healthier than I once was. I used to be 70 pounds heavier. I smoked for 20+ years, but haven’t lit a cigarette for over seven years now. I do still vape, but that got me off the cigs, and from everything I have read, there is no comparison between inhaling water vapor versus smoke. All those cigarettes did damage my lungs permanently in the form of chronic obstructive pulmonary disease (COPD). I take daily medications and use inhalers to minimize symptoms and it does not appear that my condition has worsened since first being diagnosed in 2017.

I also take daily pills for blood pressure, enlarged prostate, and cholesterol. I monitor my vitals every morning (temp/BP/heart rate) and they are almost always in the normal range. So, for an old fart, I’m doing reasonably well I suppose. I’m keeping my weight around 200 pounds and I walk a couple of hours every day, except Tuesday. I eat reasonably well but don’t deny myself the foods I crave either.

So, that leaves the elephant in the room–my beer drinking. Yes, I do indulge on the days of the week that end in “y”. I don’t really count, but I’m guessing I average around six bottles of beer a night. All the experts say that is too much. Can my poor liver take the abuse? I guess we will find out. Now, in my defense, I do drink low alcohol, low carbohydrate beer. So, my six bottles probably only amount to three of those strong “real beers” some people drink. That’s my story anyway. And really, when I read about the symptoms associated with overindulgence, I’m not seeing it. I mean, I might catch a buzz but I rarely get drunk or suffer hangovers and the like. If anything, I’d say the beer may be contributing to what sometimes feels like early-onset dementia. Nothing major (yet), just things like more frequent typos, forgetfulness, and a reduced attention span. Then again, I don’t aspire to be president and I ain’t nearly as bad as the guy who currently has that job.

Bottom line is you never know when your time will come. I’d really like ten to fifteen more relatively healthy years amongst the living. But I definitely have today and Saturday ends in a “y”, so I reckon I’ll raise a glass to my health tonight.

Get well soon, Kevin!

Kokomo No Mo?

Made my weekly venture out to Baloy Beach to get a change of scenery. I guess I achieved that, just not in the way I had intended. The Kokomo’s floating bar was closed! I walked the twenty yards or so over to the Kokomo hotel and saw a maintenance guy rolling up some kind of cable. I asked about the floater and he told me “electrical problem.” I tried to ask if it was going to be fixed anytime soon and he shook his head no. Not sure he understood what I meant though. The rainy season is on the horizon and that means the wind-whipped bay waters will not be accommodating to an anchored bar Last time I visited the girls told me they would probably close the first week in June. Hope I get a chance to say goodbye, but I fear my floating excursions are done for the year.

Just a bit further up the beach is a place called Laharnyz. I’d never been there but had seen it on my walks. A couple of folks said it was a good place for a beer and the only bar technically “on the beach.” So, I stopped in. Well, there technically is no “in”–it’s all outdoors. So, you grab your beer at the bar and proceed to the picnic table seating area. There were tarps for some shade, but the benches were rickety and covered in sand. I wasn’t impressed. But I had come for the view and this is what I saw:

A ship on the bay…
…a closed floating bar…
…the signage at my venue…
…and the solitary beer I drank during my visit.

Laharnyz wasn’t my cup of tea. Maybe if I was with friends the vibe would have been better, I don’t know. So, I moved on over to Johan’s. The manager greeted me by name, which is always nice, and told me there was a big pool tournament next door at Da’ Kudos. Well, I’m not a pool player. I took a seat at the end of the bar, drank some beers, and watched life go by on the street outside. Baloy has its own expat community and a more laid-back vibe than Barretto. I rather like it and could probably adapt to the lifestyle without much issue. Better if you live there though because the to and from is a pain in the ass, especially during the rainy season when the streets tend to flood.

When the hunger pangs chimed I moved up the road to Treasure Island for dinner. This was a bit of a stroll down memory lane. When I first arrived in the Philippines three years ago, I stayed at Treasure Island for a couple of weeks. If I only knew then what I know today. Hell, who am I kidding? I no doubt would have made the same mistakes anyway. That’s what happens when you think with the wrong head.

Anyway, tonight marks one week in my self-imposed exile from Alley Cats. It occurs to me that I haven’t heard from one person at that bar–staff or customer–inquiring as to my whereabouts and well-being. No big deal, just a reminder that being a “regular” is different than being a “friend.” I’ll probably start my evening visiting my new old “friends” at Dive In.

Speaking of friends (the real kind), keep frequent commenter Kevin Kim in your thoughts as he deals with some medical issues.

That’s about all from here for today. I did see that the CDC has recognized reality and modified its guidance on wearing masks outdoors. I’ve been saying that since this time last year. I’m no scientist, but I have enough common sense to know what is best for me–especially when the virus has such a miniscule kill rate–vaccinated or not.

Unless you are a cowardly lion or a witless scarecrow. Pretty sure a tin man has natural immunity.

They have begun vaccinating foreigners in these parts, which I thought was kind of surprising. I asked which vaccine and it’s that AstraZeneca one from the UK. I understand that Filipinos are very reluctant to submit to the vaccination program. Turns out, they vaccinated kids against dengue fever a couple of years ago and it wound killing a lot of them.

Anyway, I’m libertarian when it comes to vaccination. Get it if you want, take your chances if you don’t. I mean, if I’m vaccinated and you are not, you can’t hurt me, right? Oh, and here’s the latest outrage: the provincial government is still running that stupid checkpoint between Barretto and Subic. It’s always been pointless and causes massive traffic backups. But now, it is even more ridiculous. If I’m coming from Barretto to Subic and I don’t have a Subic address, I can be turned around. If I live in Subic, I can go to Olongapo and return to Subic without issue. How does the virus know not to infect visitors from Subic? Damned if I know.

I’m more afraid of catching the stupid than Corona.

Valley? Um…

I’ve decided to take a break from the darting scene for a while. No issue with the game, I’ve been pretty happy with the way I’ve thrown lately. It’s more of a people issue, and of course, I’m one of those people. I’d been spending three and sometimes four nights a week at Alley Cats. It has been said that familiarity breeds contempt. In this case, it isn’t really contempt, rather more of a “what am I doing here?” feeling. There was one issue with one staff member, and another kind of issue altogether with someone else No big deal in either case, it just seemed to be a signal that it was time for a change of scenery.

I found myself falling for this one. Literally dreaming about her at night and daydreaming about what a life together with her might be like. Alas, those feelings were not mutual as she had no interest in me whatsoever. Just easier not to be around her right now.

The Facebook memories feature brought back a gem I had first posted nine years ago. Actually, it was this post of Kevin Kim’s from April 2005. I believe that was right around the time I discovered his blog and this remains one of my all-time favorites from this gifted writer. I hope you’ll indulge me if I post the full text here (that’s what I originally did on FB):

I was sitting under a tree, feeling glum.

The tree asked, “What’s up?”

I said, “You know, I’ve done things I’m proud of, and things I’m not proud of.”

The tree said, “It sounds to me like you’ve got something specific in mind.”

“Yeah,” I said. “Just some things I’ve said and done recently which are bothering me.”

“I’m only a tree,” the tree said, “but I’ve been sitting in this spot for centuries, collecting wisdom from all over. Tell me what’s on your mind and maybe I can offer some insight.”

“OK,” I said, heaving a sigh. “Let’s say you’ve gotten into a fight with someone.”

“A female someone?” the tree asked slyly.

I smiled. “Yeah, a female someone. And let’s say that… well… you both said things you regret. Things you might have meant, or might not.”

“You’re not sure if you meant what you said?” asked the tree.

“No, I’m not. I really don’t know,” I replied. “I sure as hell meant them the night I said them, but now…”

“Now you think that maybe you had your head up your knothole,” said the tree wisely.

“Yeah, that’s about the size of it. But I’m still angry, see. She said some awful things that night, and it wasn’t just that night, but the night before, too. I think she meant what she’d said.”

“I see. Have you thought about simply forgiving and forgetting? Have you thought about apologizing for what you said?” asked the tree.

“Apologizing? Forgiving? Forgetting?” I asked, incredulous. “Tree, I don’t think I’m there yet. And the last things I said and wrote to her were… well, they pretty much killed any possibility of further dialogue.”

“So it seems. You strike me as something of an arrogant bastard, if you don’t mind my saying so,” said the tree.

I kept silent. The tree seized the opportunity to keep talking:

“Did you ever see that movie, Karate Kid 2?” the tree asked.

“Yeah, I remember it,” I said.

“Remember the beginning of the movie, when Mister Miyagi has the chance to kill that evil karate instructor, but he doesn’t?”

“Yeah. Pretty cool,” I said.

“Daniel-san asks him why he didn’t do it. Do you recall Mister Miyagi’s answer?”

I racked my brains. Then it hit me.

“He said, ‘For man with no forgiveness in heart, living worse punishment than death,'” I quoted. I looked up at the tree. “Are you saying I should forgive her, anyway?”

“You’re pretty good at quoting movie lines, aren’t you. Yeah; try some unilateral forgiveness,” suggested the tree.

I was angry again. “But she doesn’t think she did anything wrong,” I said, staring into the branches above me.

“And you don’t think you did anything wrong, either, do you?” asked the tree.

“I gave her so much, and she kicked me in the damn head,” I snarled.

“The selfsame head that’s stuck up your knothole?” grinned the tree.

I simply glared at the ground. It’s hard to take when a vegetable is dispensing wisdom you don’t want to hear.

The tree pressed its advantage. “Just a little while ago, you expressed regret for things you’ve said and done. At least we know you’re feeling sorry, even if you are still angry.”

“So?” I asked.

“So,” said the tree, “that’s your starting point.”

“I don’t get it,” I said.

“That’s because men are perennially stupid,” sighed the tree.

I looked up. “You’re not a guy? Not some fatherly wisdom figure?”

“Deep wisdom is always female,” laughed the tree.

“Women are fucked in the head,” I said. “They say one thing, they mean another, they don’t make any rational sense.”

“And there’s your problem in a nutshell,” said the tree. “You’re looking for sense. Do you think you can be philosophical about matters of the heart?”

“No,” I admitted. “A man can try, but… ultimately, no.”

“So– back to that starting point we talked about. I don’t know her side of the story, but it sounds to me like you’ve got some regrets. Do me a favor, would you? Try this. Stand up.”

I stood up, somewhat reluctantly.

“The wind is going to blow hard in a second,” said the tree. “When it does, just shout I’m sorry into it.”

I didn’t want to do this.

“Trust me,” the tree said, apparently reading my mind. “It’ll make you feel better.”

A slight breeze caressed my face, then began to build.

“You ready?” asked the tree. I nodded.

The wind picked up, turned harsh. The tree’s leaves rustled and its branches writhed violently. It was like watching some mysterious, inhuman struggle.

“Do it!” boomed the tree.

“I’M SORRY!” I shouted.

“The wind is still blowing! Do it again!” shouted the tree.

“I’M SORRY!” I shouted.

“Come on, keep it up! You’re making progress!” exhorted the tree.

I’m sorry…
I’m sorry…
I’m sorry…

I shouted until I was hoarse. Then I finally slumped down. I felt intensely pained, but strangely relieved. It was a bizarre, paradoxical feeling.

The wind ended.

“Not bad,” said the tree, thoroughly impressed. “Maybe the wind will carry your message to her.”

“Maybe,” I said. What was I hoping for?

“If the message reaches her, what’ll you do?” asked the tree.

I thought for a bit. “I don’t know,” I said honestly. “I really don’t know.”

A soft breeze rustled the tree. I thought I could hear its smile.

“One day at a time,” the tree whispered. “Just take it one day at a time.”

Yep, one day at a time. That’s how I’m trying to live my life.

Speaking of Facebook and their ilk, I enjoyed posting this there today:

Fuck you all.

So, the time I’m not spending in Alley Cats needs to be spent elsewhere. Last night, that elsewhere began at Dive In. Alright, I had to buy some vape supplies, so I was on that side of town anyway. And yes, I craved the delightful company of Jessa. She didn’t disappoint. She joined me for drinks (that’s her job after all) and we engaged in our usual chat and banter. I was the only customer, so we had total discretion in selecting the music videos. I was in a country music kind of mood and enjoyed introducing the youngsters to the kind of music my dad would play after a hard day at work; namely Marty Robbins and Patsy Cline. I reckon they had to indulge me seeing as how I was buying the drinks. I also went next door and got them a roast chicken to go with their noodle-like meal. Now, that’s what I call a good time!

I popped into It Doesn’t Matter for a couple more beers and lady drinks for Roan, then headed over to The Pub for my Wednesday wings, Korean-style, of course. Yeah, I’m living large, but why shouldn’t I? Turns out, I’m rich!

If this chart I found on the internet is to be believed anyway. Honestly, even on my free-spending nights, I usually don’t drop more than 50 bucks or so. And it feels good to spread it around. The girls rely on drink commissions to make a living, so why not?

I’ve mentioned before that sometimes living here in a small town with other old expats feels like being in a retirement community. But one with some special perks and benefits I wouldn’t find back home in the USA. This picture I think captures those differences quite well.

Ah, I’m living the dream!

Alright, I promised you some photos from yesterday’s hike and here they are. It was a nice, flat, 8.6 kilometer hike through the Naugsol valley. Thanks to Scott for a lot of these:

A small group of four braved the hot air that surrounded us.
The back way out of Alta Vista.
The valley we explored.
A shelter from the storm. In a month or two I can stop complaining about the heat and start complaining about the rain.
Scott working that trail…
The ever-present Easter mountain.
First cookie recipients on the day…
This hard-working vendor probably couldn’t believe we were out walking for the fun of it…
I think they are waiting for me…or my cookies anyway…
Marching ever onward.
A scenic passage way…
Mangoes for 50 pesos a kilo. Chris and Steve both partook.
We speculated on climbing this mountain as part of our Friday hike. Stay tuned.
Yea, though I walk through the valley of Naugsol, I will fear no evil…
Village life.
Friendly children hanging out at the sari-sari store…
A closer view of Easter mountain.
A little used path leading up to…
…the streets of Alta Vista…
…and finally back to my house.
Giving my helper guidance on lunch options for a group of hungry hikers…

That’s my story for Wednesday. My Thursday story will include a trip out to the Baloy Beach neck of the woods. See you tomorrow!

Nothin’ much

More of the same around here. Not that that is a bad thing, just nothing worthy of blogging about. Yeah, like that’s gonna stop me, right?

The way I saw it. From Cheap Charlies anyway.

Started my anniversary evening at Cheap Charlies. My regular drinking girl was off, but I found a willing substitute. A few beers later I got the urge to eat, so I headed over to Mango’s. Had a roast chicken salad that was quite good. After dinner, I wasn’t quite ready for home, so I popped into Adam’s Sports Bar. I used to know the bartender there, but she wasn’t around. I asked about her and got a look like they didn’t know who I was talking about. I sent her a message later and she told me she left the bar four months ago. I didn’t realize it had been so longs since me last visit. One and done at Adam’s, then I moved on up the street to the newest bar in town–Whisky Girl. First time there for me and probably the last. Just another girly bar, not my thing. Finished my night with a final beer at Outback. Been a long time since I was in there too. Nice ambiance, I’ll visit again.

See, I told you there wasn’t much to say. But wait, I do have this:

You remember this song, right? It had been a long time since I’d listened to it or watched the video. I remembered the lyrics though.

This morning, I came across this “story” on the internet: Billy Joel plays “Piano Man” for the first time at the bar he based the song on. I thought it was funny as hell, give it a read if you are so inclined and see if you agree.

Speaking of funny, I got a laugh out of this too:

Funny in a sad way, I mean.

Did the Wednesday Walkers hike this morning, but I’ll post about that tomorrow.

I’d love to caption this photo of today’s hiking companions “The Four Whoresmen,” but Scott, Steve, and Chris are all in committed relationships. That leaves me to do all the dirty work.
Had the guys over to the house for some after-hike beers, chicken, shrimp and squid. All fried. Well, not the beers, but you knew that.

Let the good times roll!