As I mentioned yesterday, I decided to forego the sanctioned Hash trail and make a hike more in keeping with my preferences. The “sane” group I normally shortcut with made the trip out to Olongapo and did the first portion of the Hare’s trail. I opted out of doing that as well. I wasn’t alone out in the wild though–two of the female Hashers followed my lead and joined me. “Followed” might be an overstatement since both of them walk faster than I do, but they paused at intersections and stayed within earshot, so it worked out fine. You know, I also use the term “shortcut” loosely. For example, my trail was considerably longer than the official trail. When I shortcut I’m avoiding climbs and descents that I consider too difficult and dangerous. Although yesterday I was never on any portion of Guenter’s trail, I also climbed up Kalaklan ridge, just from a different location. Came down my own way too. I was in the general vicinity though.
Almost 10K, including a long climb up to the ridgeline.No thank you, neighbor. I won’t be riding in the Hashmobile today.The first 3K or so were along the National highway.Then we turned off the highway onto this “road” and began our slow, but steady, climb to the top.Oh, and when I say we, I’m referring to my fellow hikers, Salty Cum, and Cum In My Basement.It’s not so steep, but a long journey up. There is no easy way to the top of Kalaklan, but this way is perhaps the least difficult.There were some really bad places on the road, but mostly it was like this.Still trudging upward.A bay view along the way.And Olongapo City from on high.Leaving the road and heading for the way back down to Barretto.An action shot. Hiking is pretty damn exciting, isn’t it?A creek in the woods. Just upstream from here the locals get their water. Saw several carrying 2 large-capacity containers tied to the ends of a board and bringing them down the trail on their shoulders. Damn, what a life!Our destination, Barrio Barretto, is in sight!Cookie stop.Oh, and in the background are the type of water containers I was talking about.A final descent through this village.Then back on the mean streets of Barretto.On Home was at Queen Victoria, but they don’t have a kitchen. I satiated my hunger with some take-out fish and chips from this shop across the street.
Some beer refreshments and then the Hash circle commenced. I wasn’t surprised when I was called down to sit on the ice and enjoy some birthday cake in the Hash tradition.
It is not as pleasant as it looks.Trust me on that.
Relive the hike here if you like:
Anyway, I missed the camaraderie of the Hash trail, but have no regrets about exercising prudence and doing it my way.
Today is once again Hash Monday. I’m not going to do the trail though. Not even going to try. I have my reasons.
Strike One–It’s a long-ass ride to Olongapo in the uncomfortable and unsafe Hashmobile. Alternatively, you can take a Jeepney, but that involves a transfer to a different Jeep in Olongapo. Too much of a pain in the ass for me.Strike two–Vienna Sausage (Guenter) is the Hare. His trails are not conducive to my continued good health. I’m not being critical, the Hare has the discretion to make the Hash trail as difficult or as easy as he chooses. Just as I have the right to decline to participate in a Hash that puts me in danger. I’ve not totally boycotted Vienna’s trails–I’ll generally do the sane parts and shortcut the rest. The start in Olongapo makes shortcutting more difficult because it is unfamiliar territory.Strike three–Vienna posted this picture of the scouting expedition for the trail. Climbing that hill is not in my future.
Three strikes and I’m out. I’ll be doing my own hike this afternoon and will attend the On-Home activities afterward at Queen Victoria.
Not sure where I’ll hike today, but yesterday I took a Jeepney to Subic town and did a 9K walk back home from there.
I must be feeling my age. That’s only 4.5 kilometers per hour on mostly flat ground. I did take a few pics along the way, but still, that’s slow.
You can Relive the hike here:
https://www.relive.cc/view/v8qVp35de7O
A Subic street scene.The name of this place had an oddly familiar ring to it in a not quite right kinda way…A road……a river……and a mountain.
I’ll probably go in the opposite direction today and see what there is to see.
A hard truth about dating, although I guess it cuts both ways.
Of course, the woman currently professing her love for me is NOT single. Should I change my luck?
Well, damn. So much for that idea.
I’m sure there will be new and better adventures to come. Or should I say train wrecks?
That’s one way to spend a Saturday night anyway. I had really just intended to drop by the new Kitchenette to see how things were going. Hard my darts with me planning on playing the tourney. But once I’d settled in, inertia took over and I kept my ass on the stool until closing time.
The place is not a bar, in fact, they are not allowed to sell beer. Beer has to be purchased from the Beach Please bar out back by the water. The owner there is the landlord for the Kitchenette. No big deal, I just walk down and order a bucket of 6 beers for 400 pesos and take them back to the kitchen. It’s comfortable enough there, open-air and a nice highway view. It certainly won’t be my hangout place, but I’ll not mind dropping by now and then.
You can’t make a judgment on how well things are going based on one night of observations, especially when it is only the second day of operations. With that caveat in mind, I’d say things are going reasonably well so far. Apparently, the lunchtime business was enough to stress out the proprietor/cook. She’s going to definitely need to hire at least one person who can cook to assist her. During the time I was there I saw a pretty steady stream of customers, mostly girls from the nearby bars, stopping in for some food to take back with them. After the lunch rush, the available menu offerings were quite limited. I chided the owner about that, telling her to keep enough food in stock or reduce the number of dishes you serve. People get frustrated when they can’t get what they want and that’s something that will make it less likely for them to return in the future. I got the “shut up and mind your own business” look, so I just drank my beer and watched.
Turns out not enough people showed up at Alley Cats to have a tourney, but a couple of them came by the Kitchenette to eat. Troy brought one of the prettiest gals I’ve seen in a long time with him. She sat next to me and I had a hard time keeping my eyes to myself. She’s 22 years old which is 1/3 my age. How’s that for symmetry? Anyway, she isn’t on the menu so the feast was only eye candy.
I got a laugh when Mango’s, which is only a couple of doors down, called in an order for eight servings of rice. Apparently, they ran out of rice and had a big group to serve. It’s a start, and if the Kitchenette can fill a niche market of bargirls, trike drivers, and restaurant gaps, it might work out. I’d give them a 50-50 shot at this point.
I printed out some paper menus that can be given to the bars so their staff can order takeout.
So, after all this time I finally have a woman sending me messages like this one:
Jonh….im so really happy this morning wen i see you…you makes my heart happy everytime i see your smile… you are so amazing person….and i always feel your presense..Enter
You are so different person jonh…..you have no idea how happy i am since i met and know you….you are so great…person…theres is none like you…in my life…
That’s the latest in a series of similar thoughts. Now, to be clear, I have no current contact at all with this woman, other than on messenger. When I met her in the past in person, it was completely platonic. I mean, I was willing, but she wasn’t. And that’s where we left if for several months until she started with the loving messages again. So, when she says she “saw me” today, it was literally a case of me walking by on the road. She sent me some sexy pics too, but I’m too much of gentleman to share those. Plus, I promised I wouldn’t. So, what’s the problem? Well, I am cursed after all. This one is already married.
Anyway, I’ve told her I’m not interested in adultery. That hasn’t slowed down her messages (the photos are a new tactic though). I guess I haven’t blocked her (yet) because she says the things I’ve always wanted to hear. Damn, it would be great to have someone who felt that way about me in my life. Still, I don’t really encourage her and I constantly remind her that she is not free. I can’t tell her what to feel, but there is nothing I can or will do about it.
So, the party was at a place called Maris’ Kitchenette. Now, whether the party was a grand opening event or for my birthday is a matter of perspective. There was a cake with candles and my name on it, and I paid for the beer. The food was given away for free too (and technically, I paid for that too) I got there about 1:00 and there were already quite a few people in attendance, and more came and went throughout the day. I knew most everyone there and received the customary birthday greetings and songs. I enjoyed myself and that’s as it should be, right?
Not just one cake……but two. Both were consumed by the end of the day.The kitchen crew were friends of the owner who volunteered to help out for the big event.I contributed the stove, freezer, and refrigerator.
I’m sorry, but I didn’t pay much attention to the food. I know there was a pancit noodle dish, chicken wings, shanghai lumpia, and a few other offerings. Not the full menu, but lots of volume. Also all gone by closing time.
Some of the early arrivers…It’s actually a pretty comfortable venue. Right on the National Highway. The kitchen is large and there is counter eating on the outside perimeter.Greetings to you, Joanna (who lives upstairs from me) and Kate, who is a real cutie. I told her one time after she had taken off her glasses, “you know, you look better without the glasses”. She didn’t miss a beat in responding, “you look better without my glasses too.”The Alley Cats crew also showed up, leaving one girl behind to man the bar.Mingling with some of the guests…More guests and some of the food on offer. Sorry I didn’t get more food shots…We had a rain squall mid-afternoon. Only lasted 15 minutes or so, but it flooded the highway out front.This is AFTER the major road construction/drainage installation project. Only in the Philippines!The birthday boy……performing the traditional COVID spreading ritual…
Once the party wound down and the kitchenette closed up, we moved next door to Mango’s where I treated the hard-working staff to a roast chicken dinner.
And the seasons they go round and round And the painted ponies go up and down We’re captive on the carousel of time We can’t return we can only look Behind from where we came And go round and round and round In the circle game –Joni Mitchell
Well, I’ll be damned, I lived to see another birthday. 66 times around the sun and I’m still going strong. Eh, maybe more like blindly stumbling along, but it sure does beat the alternative of NOT having a birthday.
Was out late last night while the work crew finished doing a half-assed job on putting up some wire fencing to keep Maris’ Kitchenette slightly more secure at night. Naturally, that required more than my usual beer intake and I’m feeling the effects this morning. Bailed on the Friday hike and I’m conserving my energy for an afternoon gathering of friends and acquaintances at the grand opening of the canteen. I’m sure that will involve beer drinking too.
https://www.relive.cc/view/vQvydo88DKq
I did manage a wet but pleasant solo hike yesterday though.
Anyway, no real birthday insights or reflections. I’m getting much better at maintaining my one-day-at-a-time attitude. That keeps me from fretting over things I’ve had and lost and thinking of the things I want and don’t have. It is what it is, and on balance, I’d say I’m pretty damn lucky.
Thanks to all of you who regularly drop by to read my drivel. It gives me some daily purpose to share my life story, such as it is, with y’all. I’ll be back with more tomorrow. Assuming I survive the night.
My guard stood hard when abstract threats Too noble to neglect Deceived me into thinking I had something to protect Good and bad, I define these terms Quite clear, no doubt, somehow. Ah, but I was so much older then, I’m younger than that now.
Drinks at It Doesn’t Matter with Roan, then some takeout Korean-style chicken wings from The Pub; that’s the way I roll on Wednesday evenings. Last night was no exception and Roan was particularly delightful.
Wednesday might just be my favorite day of the week because it also features our walking group hike. Scott wasn’t available, so folks looked to me to come up with a trail. For some reason, I was feeling particularly energetic so I suggested we climb Black Rock Mountain. No one objected but some thought it odd no doubt seeing as how on past hikes to Black Rock I’ve shortcutted to avoid the climb. Actually, I don’t mind the climb up, but the descent down the other side is a little unnerving. Regardless, it had been too long since I’ve enjoyed the unique views Black Rock affords, so off we went.
The actual hike was a bit longer than this indicates–I forgot to turn on my tracker until we were up the highway a piece.On said highway.Let the climbing begin!Our group on the way up the mountain.On the trail to Black Rock.Black Rock’s sister peak.A view from atop Black Rock. The hazy air was disappointing.Now, to get back down without falling off the mountain…We got this.Back on flat ground.Heading home to Barretto.
You can Relive it here if you are so inclined:
Popped in to see how the new business is shaping up. Appliances and chairs have arrived and the signage is up.
Opening on Friday.The offerings.
I went to Sit-n-Bull after the hike and the owner, Ron, joined me at the table for a nice chat. Told him about the new place opening and he agreed these are challenging times in the food and beverage business. He also thought targeting a niche market like the Filipino working folks was a good plan, provided the low price point required wouldn’t undermine the quality of the meals being offered. Yep, that will be a challenge. Not my business though. I’m just the sucker investor financing the start-up.
As far as days go, I had a good one. Now let’s see what I can do with this one!
Well, the right eye anyway. It’s getting worse. Everything is blurry when it is open. Reading is starting to be an ordeal. I need the cataract removal surgery and I have no choice but to jump through the hoops and overcome the bureaucratic hurdles to make that happen. I’ve seen the eye doctor already. Now I need “clearance” for the surgery he recommends. And that clearance must come from a cardiologist. The one who works at the local hospital only has office hours on Tuesday and Friday from 10:00 a.m. until noon. And she doesn’t take appointments. You have to sign in and wait your turn. Which is bullshit.
My workaround was to drop my helper at the hospital Tuesday morning while I did the grocery shopping. After completing my supermarket duties, I went back to the hospital and sent her home to put away the groceries. Taking my seat in the waiting room I was pleased to learn my strategy had worked–I was first on the list! The doctor called me at around 10:15, asked me a series of questions, told me I’d need to get an ECG and chest x-ray. After she reviewed the results I could get the surgery clearance if everything checked out. She must have seen the look on my face, even through the mask AND face shield I was required to wear in her presence, because she told me I didn’t have to return, my helper could bring the test results to her. So, I guess I’ll make another trip to the hospital tomorrow for the required procedures. Ten minutes with the doctor, a $40. charge. I think I paid the skin tax on that one.
After my doctor’s visit, I sent Roan/Rochelle a message asking if she were ready for our lunch date. It was not quite 11:00 yet and I didn’t get a response. I caught a Jeepney to Barretto and got out at Arizona Resort, our agreed-upon meeting place for lunch (we’d left the time unspecified because of the uncertainty of when I’d been done with the doc), but still no response to my message so I hoofed it on home, arriving just before noon. Then I got a response from Roan (she prefers that moniker because it is not as common as Rochelle) and we agreed to meet to eat at 1:00. I changed clothes (the walk home had made me a sweaty mess) and headed back to Arizona for my lunch date. I arrived about ten minutes early, so I ordered a beer and chilled. At 1:00, Roan messaged that she’d be a “little late”. At 1:30 I sent a message asking if she wanted to reschedule. A few minutes later she texted that she was on her way, arriving just before 2:00. I guess you could say we got off to a slow start.
I was starving by now and ordered up some chicken enchiladas. Roan had the spaghetti. Over the course of our meal Roan explained that she was late because she had to prepare a meal for her “grandmother”, a chore her mother normally handles, but mom was unexpectantly not home. Okay, well at least this wasn’t a case of “Filipina time” causing the tardiness.
This led us into a fascinating conversation about her family. I was surprised to learn that Roan’s stepfather is an American. Sixty-two years old, which makes him younger than me. That felt a little weird. This was mom’s first marriage, but Roan’s siblings are from three different fathers. Roan never knew her father, but they wound up living next door to each other. Dad never acknowledged or spoke to her though. That was mind-boggling to me. The strangest and saddest story of all was where one of her half brothers killed the other brother by stabbing him to death. Roan was five at the time and witnessed it. That left me shaking my head. The surviving family members all seem to be doing relatively well at least. I told Roan her family history would make for a real blockbuster movie. Not sure anyone would believe it though.
I think I mentioned that Roan has two children of her own, nine and three years old, if I recall correctly. They’ve been staying with their father for a couple of weeks and after lunch, she was going to go to his house to visit them. I told her I thought it was fantastic that the dad was still involved with the kids, which seems rare in this country. I asked if her ex was in a relationship and she said, “yes, with another man.” No judgment on her part, they apparently all get along fine. She’s a fascinating woman and I hope we become good friends. If nothing else, she could entertain me with stories from her life!
I paid the tab and shared a trike with her as far as the turnoff for Alta Vista, where we said our goodbyes. I walked up the hill and grabbed my darts, then headed back down to Alley Cats for the dart tournament. Another singles tourney and both of my opponents threw exceptionally good darts, the best I’ve ever seen them play in fact, while I had one of my worst nights in memory. I didn’t win a leg at all and was the first one eliminated from the tourney. Embarrassing.
Feeling hungry again, I went next door to The Pub for some grub.
Went with the roast beef and cheese sandwich. Most excellent. And damn, those fries were pretty much perfect as well. Reminded me of the way McDonald’s fries USED to be–hot and firm.
So, it was a full and busy day. Missed my nap and couldn’t find time to blog. I did share this on Facebook though:
That seems to be true in my case at least.
This morning my old friend Jeremy posted that the image above reminded him of something he wrote while serving time in a Korean prison:
With Open Arms
Of house and home, love and loss, kith and kin,
Having which of them is a sin?
Only one remains true
While the rest eventually depart.
It stays when the others are through,
Unwittingly tormenting your lonely heart.
It is a faithful companion by your side
Telling you that all else is a lie.It reminds you of what you want and had before,
Unconsciously mocking you for what is no more.
Ignored when times are great.
In others, it provides something to hate.
Truly, it has done nothing wrong.
Only tried to comfort with a sad song.
Though you try your best to deny it as your friend,
Only it will be with you in the end.
Welp, yesterday got away from me, that’s for sure. What is normally my “lazy Tuesday” was so full I didn’t have time for a nap or a post here. Sorry about that. I’ll do a post later this afternoon about what was keeping me so busy.
I did want to slap up the photos from Monday’s Hash for those of you who enjoy the scenery in these parts. It was actually a very nice trail, at least the part I did. Familiar territory, but an area I enjoy hiking. Here you go:
Our Hares, Anal Receptive, and his gal, Anal Intruder.The path they laid.Waiting to get started.We are On-On!And ON-UP!Nice view, eh?Looks good from behind too!Snakes in the grass?Another month or two and this will be tough going…What are you guys looking at?Ah, okay…On the trail…Getting passed by the runners. We had a 30-minute headstart…In fact, Leech My Nuggets passed us twice…once before and once after our shortcut.Crossing the creek……and heading On-Home…The gash waiting for the circle to commence…And the menfolk shooting the bull…Two of our newly named Hashers (you get a Hash moniker after completing five runs). On the left is Boom Boom Everyday and on the right is Dickens Cider.Props to Pubic Head on creating these logos for the girls…That’s it for this Hash post!
I’ll be back with more after my Wednesday Walkers hike. See you then!
Actually, it’s a Hash Monday–how manic can that be?
Changed things up a bit and took the dogs for a walk on the beach at Baloy this morning. Probably won’t do that again any time soon. Too many strays to fend off. My secondary purpose was breakfast at Treasure Island, which was fine once it was served. It took WAY too long though. Ah well, how bad can things be when that’s all I’ve got to complain about?
On the beach.
Started my evening yesterday at It Doesn’t Matter. Enjoyed some more laughs with Roan. I like her company so much I decided to ask her out for lunch on her day off tomorrow. She accepted. So, I guess it’s a date. We even discovered something we have in common last night. Her “real” name is Rochelle and that’s the name she went by in school. But at home, everyone knows her as Roan. So, when friends from school came to visit and asked for Rochelle, confusion ensued. When I was growing up, I was John at school and went by Mark in the neighborhood. Long story, but my parents couldn’t agree on my name so dad called me John and mom and my brothers called me Mark. It’s no wonder I’m borderline schizophrenic.
Anyway, I don’t think of Roan as a potential girlfriend. She’s fun to be around, that’s enough for me. We are going to eat at Arizona. It’s on her side of town and she’s never been there for a meal, so it will be a new, and hopefully nice, experience for her.
Anal Receptive (my neighbor Ed) is the Hare today. I ran into him at Mango’s Saturday night and he described the trail that he’s plotting. I expect I’ll be shortcutting again.
What? No, perfect is not misspelled. It’s just the way we do things around here. Planning and coordination are overrated anyway. Take the road widening project currently underway on Abra street for example. Yes, we tore down a bunch of houses to make way for the concrete. The families that were displaced were squatters anyway. Besides, you can’t stop progress. A wider Abra street will be safer, and also benefits residents and commuters. See for yourself:
What? No one contacted the electric company to relocate the power lines? Oh well. Not my problem. Proceed. That concrete ain’t gonna pour itself.
Only in the Philippines!
I wasn’t perfect at darts either. But I played good enough to win. Heh, even Grammarly says I played well. That’s good! (the app underlines what it considers bad grammar, spelling, and punctuation; like saying “good” enough instead of “well”).
Anyway, low turnout again, so we played singles. I actually prefer playing without a partner. No one to let down that way. During warmups, I was throwing so poorly I considered not playing at all and maybe even giving up the game for good since I can’t seem to find the motivation to practice. Once the games started though some of the old magic came back and I wound up winning all my matches on the night and took home the 500 peso prize money.
Actually, I didn’t take it home. I gave it to my waitress, Jerlyn. A sweet (and very cute) 23-year-old. Yeah, way too young. Rumor has it she’s still a virgin too. Not that I care one way or the other. She’s really into Korean pop culture, even has learned a little of the language. I’ve taught her some new words as well, like pajee bosoyo. Anyway, since Jerlyn is too young to be girlfriend material, I told her she could be my sugar baby. Now, instead of kuya (older brother), she has to call me daddy John. That’s as far as I’m going to take it. Unless she really wants a Sugar Daddy. I do have a vacancy in my FWB program.
I beat my nemesis, Billy, twice on the night, including the finals.
In other news, my friend is making slow but steady progress on opening her canteen. Her target date is now Friday, the 27th. I am her financier, so yesterday I purchased some equipment she’ll need.
Like this chest freezer……and refrigerator.
I gave her another hundred bucks for some renovation work. I expect she’ll need help with her initial food material purchases as well. Still, I should only be out a thousand dollars or so all in. If that investment sets her up to have a successful business and financial independence, it is well worth it. It’s going to be challenging, but what isn’t these days?
I had a pleasant enough Sunday stroll this morning, at just over 8K.
Weather has been good in the mornings. Some big afternoon thunderboomers the last couple of days though.
Oh yeah, the Hash published everyone’s birthday. I did the math and the median age of the listed Hashers was 66. And I’ll be 66 on Friday!
I’m not sure what got into us, but our Friday hiking group voluntarily decided to climb up to Kalaklan ridge from the Olongapo side via what has been dubbed “the stairway to heaven”. A lot of climbs begin with some form of stairsteps which eventually turn into dirt paths before you reach the top. The stairway to heaven goes all the way up to the ridge–some 200 meters, or 60 floors if the conversion calculator I used is accurate. It’s an ass-kicker, that’s for sure.
As much as I dislike getting up there, I really enjoy the scenery and views on Kalaklan ridge. Let me show you what I mean:
Up, over, and down again… That’s Olongapo on right, Barretto on the left.The Jeepneys were all full, so we caught a bus to Olongapo City.After exiting the bus, we walked a kilometer or so to Gordon Heights.Heading for the stairs…uphill of course.And so it begins…Lightening my load by dispensing with some cookies…Going up……and up.Taking a picture while I catch my breath.Onward and upward…Damn, this doesn’t feel like heaven to me…The view from here.And still, we climb.There’s no turning back now!Can you imagine the commute if you lived up here? Damn. What a pain in the ass!Nope, we ain’t done yet.A quick look back.The way ahead.Wait a minute. Could this be it?Almost there.At the top sits this abandoned house. I guess getting up and down wasn’t worth it…I am happy to report that everyone who started the climb survived it.Let’s head over to the other side of the mountain…Off in the distance, Easter mountain pokes her head through the haze.Every time I see this view of my little town I feel happy that I live here. I truly am blessed.Some friendly cows along the way…Jim standing tall and proud on the Great Wall of Barretto.This is the first time I’ve encountered an aggressive carabao. Scary! He actually almost got his horns into the little boy who was with us. I was as quick on my feet as possible when I hustled by him.Let’s get outta here!Heading down…A cookie stop along the way…Watch your step, Scott. It’s slippery!The gals got some refreshments at the sari-sari store...The menfolk headed over to Dynamite Dick’s. That’s Dick on the right front.That’s it for this post…
Well, the powers that be are beginning to demonstrate their ignorance once again. The governor of Zambales is implementing a new lockdown/liquor ban/curfew effective tomorrow. Luckily, the Mayor of Olongapo has not seen fit to follow suit, Yet. Our barangay captain has done this again though:
He has blocked access to most of the side streets in Barretto. How that stops COVID nobody knows. Just makes life harder for everyone for no purpose as far as I can tell.
Oh, and they closed the gate to my subdivision advising that visitors are no longer allowed. That pissed me off. I told the guards, “so, the construction workers can come in by the truckload but I can’t have company?” I just got the blank stare and “following orders from barangay” response. Jesus.
Today we took the bus to Olongapo to start our hike. As we drove down the highway, I thought of all these bullshit COVID prevention measures being implemented.
Nothing to worry about while riding on a standing-room-only bus at least.
I mentioned firing Joy from the FWB program for incessant begging. Now it seems Judy might be heading down that road. She’s more polite about it at least. School is starting and there are fees and supplies to be paid for. She did at least send me copies of the invoice. I told her no, we’ll see if that works. I have no intention of violating Rule #1 (Don’t be stupid). Well, at least I hope I can find new ways to be stupid at least.
And while we are on the subject of stupid, I’ll offer this for your amusement:
The ideal tyranny is that which is ignorantly self-administered by its victims. The most perfect slaves are, therefore, those which blissfully and unawaredly enslave themselves. – Dresden James
I posted that quote on Facebook EIGHT years ago. Talk about predicting the future!
Speaking of the Facebook memories feature, they also shared these gems from the past:
Kevin Kim and nephew Justin at the Brazilian steakhouse in Itaewon circa 2019. Hey, there’s an option for one of your cheat days, Kevin.I met Eun Oke five years ago. When I posted this I speculated on what the future might bring. I was wrong. Again.Our first date was an Itaewon pub crawl. What could go wrong?I guess I’m halfway there anyway.That’s me and my high school sweetheart back in 1973. That ended in failure too, but at least we are still friends on Facebook. We hooked up at our 20th-year high school reunion.That’s my truck, Redford, in the background.
Oh, and get a load of what Facebook put over one of the memes I posted today:
I think that might be a first for me. But wait until you see what it was they fact-checked.Seriously Facebook? You are fact-checking this obvious joke?
It actually gets worse. The fact-check states that “No, Jill Biden wasn’t a teenage babysitter for Joe Biden’s family.” Okay then, so everything else stated in the meme must be true. Got it!
I was 29 years old in 1984. Never thought I’d be living in 1984 at this stage of my life.
Anyway, here’s another grenade I threw up on Facebook this morning. And yes, liberal heads are already exploding.
Good luck with the fact-check that one, Facebook!
Alright, let’s change the subject and talk about meat.
No, no, no! Not that kind of meat.That fine bottom belongs to my friend Marick who recently opened a VERY small bar (seats 3).This is the meat I’m talking about. Get a load of those John Kim ribeyes. So thick!First time I fired up the new grill…Getting a nice even fire from both burners…They came out just the way I like them. I cut those big steaks in half to get a “normal” sized ribeye. The Filipina helper put hers on the stove to make it well-done. Sad but true, that’s how the locals do it here.Back in the high life again.Speaking of thick, check out this pecan pie, Ron, the owner of Sit-n-Bull baked. I popped in there this morning after my walk and grabbed one to bring home with me.A bit pricey at 350 pesos ($7.) but I can’t even find pecans in this country.The insides were moist, tender, and sweet–just the way I like it! I ate half after lunch and will have the rest after my evening on the town.
Alright, so that leaves us with yesterday’s Wednesday Walkers hike. We collectively decided to do the half of the Hash trail we had shortcut on Monday. But we did it in reverse. That involved a long, hard climb up the big mountain from Abra street. Once we were up though, it was actually quite pleasant. Going back down was a little tricky in places, but that’s normal.
There I was hiking and feeling fit.
Tried to fart, and it came out shit.
Yeah, that happened to me on the way to the meet-up location at VFW. I didn’t have time to turn around and go home to change, so I took my handkerchief and shoved it down my shorts hoping to capture whatever moisture my underwear didn’t. I was able to get into the restroom at the Dennito hotel to survey the damage. Yep, I had bleed-through in the crotch of my lightly colored shorts. Made it pretty obvious I had shit myself. Nothing to be done but to undertake an impromptu handwashing of the shorts and undies in the sink. So, I came out wearing soaking wet shorts, but no one asked me what happened. Thankfully. Oh, and I threw away my formerly white hankie.
The shitty part made the rest of the hike seem that much nicer. I’ve got pictures from the good part:
The trail we traveled.Heading for the hills!A tiring climb begins…Let’s get it done, Johnny!The handrail was a nice feature on a particularly steep section.A high view…And from another perspective.Are you just going to lay there and watch, dog?Summit achieved, time for a breather. We also secured evidence that we did, in fact, finally finish Monday’s Hash.Carry on, then.Time to head down?Let’s do it!Close the gate behind you, Steve!Ah, the kids I missed on Monday finally got their cookies. And Chris brought candy too!Are we there yet?A mountain abode…And another…The serenity of the open trail…And so concludes another post.
But before I go, let me share a joke I thought was pretty funny:
A 70-year-old billionaire walked into a pub with his 25-year-old girlfriend. His friend asked him how he managed to get a girl less than half his age. The billionaire replied, “I lied about my age on the dating site.” His friend retorted, “ That was a dreadful thing to do – how old did you say you were ……………. 35, 40, 45?””
No,” said the billionaire, “I told her I was 90!”
Even funnier, I told this to a bargirl the other night but forgot to mention the billionaire part. Once I delivered the punchline, she asked “oh, was he rich?” Maybe it is something in the genes here…
Right across the highway from the access road to Alta Vista is Baloy Beach road.
On one side you’ve got the 7/11 convenience store, a “love shop” that is obviously of no use to me, and a money changer that I use occasionally.And on the other side of the street, a handy trike stand…Let’s head up the road, shall we?The first resort you come to is Mangrove, one of the pricier places in town…I’ve personally never stayed nor eaten there.Across the street is the Wild Orchid Inn. Never used their facilities either, although I’ve stayed at their Angeles City location.Next up is Harley;s. I’ve eaten here occasionally. Just about the best water views in the area.The Subiza resort. Only been once and had no desire to return. I guess that’s a pretty telling review.The “official” entrance to Baloy Beach. Tourists not staying in one of the resorts have to pay an entrance fee…The Blue Rock resort. I stayed here frequently back in my days as a tourist. Decent rooms at fair prices and good food.Next door is this place. Don’t know a thing about it.Time for another street view.The Viking resort. Never been, but I hear they have good pizza.That’s a one-bedroom apartment I wanted to rent when I first moved here. Alas, it wasn’t available. Great beach and mountain views from up there.The Lagoon. Used to play darts there. Know people who actually live in their studio apartments. Food is average at best.Da’ Kudos. Worst name ever, IMO. Owned by Mango’s and has good food. Also one of our Hash On-Home venues.Kokomo’s. Almost stayed there once, but canceled when I cut my trip short. The beach bar is closed, but in season, the floating bar is nice.Johan’s is a diving resort. I enjoy a beer at their bar now and then.Another street view. No more foreigner-oriented resorts, but several more catering to the locals are up ahead.An example of the nipa huts or “cottages” that Filipino families seem to enjoy while spending time at the beach.The end of Baloy Beach road...Where the river meets the bay…On the beach.I would love to live in this beachfront house. Been vacant since I first started coming to Barretto. The owner “disappeared” a few years ago under mysterious circumstances. I didn’t want to live there THAT bad to get involved in those politics.More beachside “cottages”.Laharnz is a crappy little beachside bar. Been once. It could be better.Treasure Island is my overall favorite place on Baloy/ Stayed there a couple of times but the rooms suck…Great food and a wonderful poolside bar make up for it though. These nipa huts didn’t fare well in the recent high tides…Goodbye for now to Baloy Beach!
If I could find the right place I might consider living here. A nice expat community of its own and who wouldn’t want to live on the beach!
The expat community here consists primarily of retired folk. Not surprisingly, that means most of us are well into our “golden” years. I’d estimate that at 65, I’m the median age amongst my peers. And with an older population, we are frequently reminded of the inevitability of death. I’ve heard of two foreigners that I didn’t know personally dying here this week. All we can do is keep on living as best as we are able until time runs out. That’s my plan anyway.
It appears that is exactly what Derek did. I met Derek (Derelick) through the Hash, and he was also well known in the bar community. We spent an enjoyable couple of hours drinking and chatting on the Kokomo’s floating bar earlier this year. Regular readers may recall that since the pandemic we have frequently used his palatial house on Rizal Extension as our Hash On-Home. In fact, we were just there three weeks ago. That turns out to have been the last time I saw Derek alive. HIs domestic helper posted this morning that Derek had a heart attack and died last night.
I don’t know the specifics of Derek’s story, but he always impressed me as a man who lived life on his own terms. He was a medical professional and spent most of his career working overseas. I understand he spent a lot of time in Thailand and I believe his last job before retiring a couple of years ago was in Dubai. His health has not been so good for several months, but he seemed resilient and was back to the life he loved between bouts of whatever it was that ailed him. I remember seeing his posts on Facebook this past Saturday about his barhop adventure, and another friend said they were together drinking and chatting on Sunday night. Well, Derek, you lived your life with gusto right up to the end. We should all be so lucky!
Rest in Peace…no, the hell with that–party hardy at that big ON-ON in the sky!
We had our usual Hash yesterday and Leech My Nuggets was the Hare. He laid down this challenge on the Subic Hash Facebook page:
Leech my Pussy and I are the hares; sign up at VFW from 2.00 PM; trail marked from VFW, starts 2.30 PM …… short (5.5 KM) and sweet, so surely the Sick, Lame & Insane can do it without to many short-cuts
That last reference was aimed at our “sane” group of Hashers. Call us what you will (and the “sick, lame, and insane” name is in jest, just Hash talk) but we far outnumber the hardcore group. Still, 5.5 is a short trail, especially for Leech. I started out with every intention of completing the entire path as he intended It may have been short, but it wasn’t easy. Two decent climbs on the first half left me gasping and thirsty. It was then that I discovered I had somehow forgotten to pack water. Prudence dictated that I forgo the final (and hardest) climb. But I really, really wanted to do it. Promise!
The trail sans shortcuts...The sane group with our traditional early 2:00 start is underway.The beginning of the first up…The normally clear skies (when it is not raining I mean) have been absent for the past few days. I assumed it was just a hazy moisture effect. But I heard it is some residual dust from a volcano down south that might be waking up again.What goes up, must come down…We weren’t down for long though…A picture stop before the next climb…Up the dreaded tire climb…And then the tires turn to bags…And still, we climb…Scrambling up and over rocksSummit achieved!Splendor in the grass.Back down again.Watch your step!A couple of bridges to cross.Sorry, kids. I shortcut the trail and couldn’t bring you your cookies this time. I’ll be back!And that’s as far as this post is going.
And life goes on. For some of us at least. We will all miss you, Derek.
Well, there is no escaping the travesty that is currently unfolding in Afghanistan. I don’t engage much in politics on the blog these days, but this fuck up is really hard to ignore. Kevin Kim’s post pretty much captures the way I see things and I encourage you to give it a read.
Like Kevin, I believe if you are going to go to war, you should go with the intention of winning. Nearly twenty years after engaging the Taliban, victory was still not at hand. So, withdrawing in a planned, methodical way was perhaps the best option. That was Trump’s goal, so you can’t blame Biden for the pullout itself, but the abruptness of the pullout and the carnage taking place are all on him. Maybe maintaining a military presence there, much like we’ve done in Korea for all these years, would have provided more stability. I do understand that we don’t have the resources to police the world, and at some point, the Afghan military needed to up their game. Our abrupt pullout, including all air support, made defending against the Taliban incursions next to impossible.
Politics aside, it is the suffering that awaits non-Taliban Afghanis, and especially women, that concerns me the most. My daughter Hillary spent nearly two years in Afghanistan as a soldier. She worked in a civil affairs unit and had many interactions with the people. It is fair to say I think that this experience opened her eyes to many harsh realities, but also changed her life in a positive way.
Hillary at an Afghan orphanage.
I wrote a post to honor her on Christmas day 2004. In that post, I quoted from an email she sent, and I think it bears sharing again now:
This place is dusty, hot or cold, and halfway around the world from my loved ones. I believe in what I am doing here and if I didn’t I would not be here. There are some serious disadvantages to traveling around the world conducting peacekeeping missions, but at the end of every day I recap what I have done for Afghanistan and for the people I have met here, and in the end, it is extremely rewarding.
The people of this country have the most unique characteristics of any ethnic group I have ever met. They are the warmest, most generous people with high morals. One thing all of the Afghans have in common is that they are very courageous and strong people. Throughout their history, they have fought the rule of the Persians, the Mongols, the British, and the Soviets. Never yet have they sold their soul to another. Afghans remain free.
Even though we have not found Osama Bin Laden, and my fellow soldiers are still being wounded and worse in Afghanistan, at least we have given these people a chance. When I look over the compound walls and see a kite flying in the sky, I know that represents one happy child who otherwise would not know that feeling.
This is the beginning for them, it is not perfect, nor is it expected to be, but it is a progressive change in the right direction. I realize the news back home is filled with all the horrible things taking place here and in Iraq, but this is one story Americans don’t get to hear often–we are making a difference! Afghanistan is a better, safer place than it was. You have the combining of coalition forces and NGOs to thank for all their hard work. Together we are working towards the same goal and that is to liberate Afghanistan by providing the resources to sustain them economically and politically. As the Afghans would say, “Inshallah”. If God wills it.”
It’s a shame that what was accomplished during our presence will be for naught. That doesn’t diminish the efforts of those brave individuals who worked hard, suffered, and sometimes died, to make a positive difference.
One of the things Hillary was most proud of included rebuilding schools that girls could once again attend.
Things are going to get much, much worse before they get better in Afghanistan.
I guess I never really left but I did take a detour to explore a dead-end road called Love. So, I still have my darts, my walking, and my drinking adventures to post about. That’s probably best for you readers and me.
Another third-place finish in darts last night, but no complaints about it this time. I threw better than I did on Friday and we lost to superior teams. That’s the way it goes. After darts, a group of us went across the street to Mango’s and enjoyed a late dinner. I devoured my pork chops favorite. The other end of the table had roast chicken and baby back ribs. No one was disappointed in their meal. Kevin and I split the $70. tab. Not bad for seven diners, eh?
That settles it!
In other news, the canteen I’m sponsoring for a friend is making progress towards opening. She’s had a crew out cleaning, painting, and fixing things up. I wish her well. Tough times to be opening an eatery, but the business model she plans doesn’t rely so much on foreigners. Hopefully when the lockdowns are lifted there will be lots of Filipino tourists back in town to enjoy the beach and her Filipino delicacies.
It’s an open-air kitchen.That’s the exhaust fan for a big ass grill…It’s primarily going to be a take-out place, but there will be counter seating and one table as I understand it.Good luck!I suggested this as a possible name…it didn’t seem appreciated.
And here’s a public service announcement:
Yeah, I know. I butcher the language. Let me serve as a bad example!
A long (for me) 10K solo hike this morning. I snapped a photo every kilometer or so…
The boys seeing me off. It looks like they are in jail…They were waving everyone through the checkpoint. I guess COVID is off on Sunday.Filipino failures.Home on the highway…Not a pretty day, very hazy out. No rain on the walk though.“The river flows, it flows to the sea. Wherever that river goes, that’s where I want to be…“Bamboo–is there anything it can’t do?My hopes to keep my feet dry were dashed in the end.Home sweet home at last!I was hoping to make 5K an hour. Stopping for photos and the ATM didn’t help.
You can Relive the hike here if you so desire:
And that’s where things stand in my loveless world.
The river flows It flows to the sea Wherever that river goes That’s where I want to be Flow river flow Let your waters wash down Take me from this road To some other town
All he wanted Was to be free And that’s the way It turned out to be Flow river flow Let your waters wash down Take me from this road To some other town
That being the case, it can mean whatever anyone wants it to mean. Apparently. Let’s continue yesterday’s “love story” to its illogical conclusion, shall we?
So, I was taken aback by Jessel’s words of love, unexpected as they were. How could I have so completely misread her feelings? I stopped playing darts so I wouldn’t have to deal with her rejection. She told me she quit working at Alley Cats because I stopped coming. And now all these months later we were finally back on the same page after having acknowledged our love for one another. The only question that remained was where do we go from here?
Clearly, we had a lot to talk about if we were to set a course for a future together. I wasn’t entirely sure I knew what I wanted going forward and I had absolutely no clue about the kind of relationship Jessel desired. I was still scared about making a mistake and getting hurt again, so I was hoping for some reassurance and understanding if I wanted to take things slowly. I knew I would be making changes in my lifestyle but I needed to understand Jessel’s expectations, wants, and needs.
The obvious next step was to get together and talk about these issues. That shouldn’t be difficult for two people in love. Except it turns out that it was. My only avenue of communication with Jessel was via Messenger, but she continued to be non-responsive to many of my messages. Hours and sometimes days would go by before I received a reply on the ones she did bother to answer. Jessel explained that she is not allowed to use her phone at work, and I understand that. That doesn’t explain why I rarely heard from her during her off-hours though. It took me until Wednesday, five days after I had received her profession of love, to receive her agreement for a lunch date. And it didn’t happen. When she finally got back to me, she wanted to meet at 6:30. No, that didn’t work for me. I’d already been drinking and this meeting was too important to me to do unsober. And yeah, to have a lunch date unilaterally changed to dinner was irritating too. It took until late the next day to reschedule our lunch meeting for Friday at 1:00 at Mango’s.
I was excited about the meet-up and arrived twenty minutes early. Jessel got there twenty minutes late. Yeah, a practitioner of “Filipina time”. Good to know. It was nice to see her again–it had been a week already. We ordered our roast chicken meal, and I told her the story of love I shared here yesterday. She told me she was excited the first time she saw me. Well, it never showed. I asked some questions about her life and she responded with short answers. Later on, I thought she was sending a message on her phone, and I happened to glance down–she was playing one of those building block-type games. Ouch! I guess I’m not as interesting as I thought I am. She didn’t seem to have much else to say anyway and the vibe I was getting was that she wasn’t interested in talking about the future. Well, she did say she didn’t want me to tell anyone about “us”. I’m pretty sure that nobody she knows reads this blog, so I guess I haven’t. I couldn’t get an understandable answer as to why we couldn’t tell the world of our newfound love, but my imagination quickly came up with several possibilities. Very strange indeed.
She wasn’t interested in coming home with me or doing anything else together after lunch. She wanted to nap. And here’s the kick in the balls–when we got to the door of Mango’s she said “you go first.” She didn’t want anyone to see us leaving the restaurant together!
I didn’t hear from her at all on Saturday. This being in love thing isn’t as grand as I thought it would be. And that’s really the bottom line about it I guess. Jessel is not the woman of my fantasies. I think perhaps I over-estimated her English mastery–perhaps she seems uncommunicative because she can’t speak or write my language well. I still have no idea why she doesn’t want people to know about me, she did assure me she has no other boyfriends–here, back in the province, or online. So, I don’t know.
But what I do know is there appears to be no foundation on which to build a relationship. The things I dreamed about and imagined aren’t going to happen. Jessel doesn’t seem eager to take any initiative to move things forward, either emotionally or physically. Maybe she is just shy.
Anyway, she doesn’t appear to be the woman I fell for in my imaginary relationship. Reality is an unforgiving bitch, but as at least one commenter has noted repeatedly, I ought to know better by now. Yeah, I should. All I can say in my defense is that I don’t develop those kinds of feelings very often anymore and normally wouldn’t have the courage to act on them. In this case, I was aware that my current life is pretty damn fine even without a loving relationship. And it could be a hell of a lot worse with one.
I took those tentative steps forward, and now I’m stepping back. Perhaps love is just an illusion after all. At least I didn’t get bit in the ass.
Love hurts, love scars, love wounds And marks, any heart Not tough or strong enough To take a lot of pain, take a lot of pain Love is like a cloud Holds a lot of rain Love hurts…… ooh, ooh love hurts
Some fools think of happiness Blissfulness, togetherness Some fools fool themselves I guess They’re not foolin’ me
I know it isn’t true, I know it isn’t true Love is just a lie Made to make you blue Love hurts…… ooh, ooh love hurts
That sings the truth about the love she brings to me
Where do I start
I guess the best place to start would be the beginning.
I first met Jessel when she began work as a new waitress at Alley Cats when the bar reopened after the lockdown ended last year. I was surprised they had hired someone new when some of the former waitresses were still not working. I found that a little off-putting and assumed she had some connection to the bar owner. I also didn’t find her attractive, so I pretty much just ignored her.
Before long, like most of the other waitresses, Jessel began playing in the dart tournaments. She was pretty good for a beginner, but what really impressed me was the effort she put into improving her game. I’d see her practicing throwing before the tournament started, and then watching other games in progress to learn from more experienced players. That dedication is pretty rare, especially from the bargirls.
One night I bought her a drink and we sat and chatted. I learned some of her story–a province girl from Samar, a single mother, and working to support her child back home. That’s actually a pretty common tale amongst the bargirls. Maybe it was because she was new, but I noticed her demeanor was different than a typical bargirl. Jessel was quiet and reserved and did not aggressively pursue customers for drinks. Lots of gals sit near and snuggle or give you a back rub in order to entice you to buy them a drink (most of a bar waitress’s pay is earned through drink commissions, not salary). That just wasn’t Jessel’s style. I liked that about her too.
So, that’s pretty much how it went for a while…I’d watch her play darts, occasionally buy her a drink, and chat and joke around some. Then one night I looked at her from across the bar and I was shocked–when did she get so damned beautiful? As I say, I’d never found her particularly attractive–a little heavier than I like with a baby belly and a bigger butt than I usually go for. So what happened? It occurred to me that as I got to know her I began to see the beauty she carried inside and that changed my entire perception of how she looked on the outside. I actually started thinking she was sexy as hell, even appreciating those ass-ets. *ahem*
I snuck this pic of her in the bar one night. Sorry for the low quality, couldn’t use the flash.
And then things started getting weird. Not so much with her, but in my head. I would sometimes dream of her. And in my waking hours, I’d fantasize about her. Not the usual sex fantasies you’d expect from an old pervert like me. Instead, I’d picture us as a couple. Waking up to a kiss, sharing coffee and some laughs, taking a walk together, and then going out and playing darts. Yeah, a significant other to share my life with would be nice, I found myself thinking. Could it be I was falling in love?
But being in love is a pretty scary thought. I’ve been burned so many times that I’m afraid of the fire that comes with love’s passion. So, I tried to ignore my feelings at first, but the more I was around here, the harder it became to do so. I started dropping some hints about my feelings, but she never seemed to take me seriously.
I felt like I was a kid back in school again, passing notes to the cute girl in front of me.
We were Facebook friends and I would send her messages occasionally. She’d usually ignore them. And when she deleted comments I’d leave on her posts, I got frustrated and unfriended her. It dawned on me that whatever I was feeling for her wasn’t mutual.
That’s really not unusual I suppose. That’s why true love is so rare. Two people need to be in the same place emotionally at the same time. That just wasn’t happening with Jessel. I wouldn’t say she started giving me a cold shoulder, but I did sense her pulling back. I couldn’t and didn’t fault her–you can’t help what you feel or don’t feel. So, I had to decide what I was going to do with my unrequited love or whatever in the hell it was that I was feeling. The best (only?) option I could think of was to take a break from Alley Cats.
I stopped playing darts and visiting the bar for two months. That’s how long it took me to “get over” Jessel. When I finally came back I discovered that Jessel had quit the bar and taken a job at the Central Park Reef hotel. Good for her, I said. And best for me too, I thought to myself. And that is where things stood until a week ago Friday.
I came in that night for my usual dose of darts at the tourney. I was very surprised to see Jessel sitting at the bar. I didn’t say anything, just proceeded to my usual table and took my seat. I ignored her for the first hour I was there, being relieved that the darts gods didn’t see fit to pair us up for the tournament. As things played out, I didn’t even play against her. Maybe it was the beers or maybe it was just me being the nice guy that I am, I eventually went over to where Jessel was sitting and said hello. She gave me a big hug. And it felt so nice. A little small talk and I returned to my seat. A bit later I had a beer sent over for her.
She sent me a message on Messenger: Miss U.
I responded: You have no idea how much I’ve missed you.
To which she replied: I love you.
I told her, “you have no idea how I’ve longed to hear you say those words”
And that’s the story of how I fell in love with Jessel. There is a bit more to tell, including a rundown of our first date yesterday afternoon. I’ll post about that tomorrow.
Today’s post is the last in the “a week in the life” series. I reckon that is reason enough to call it a sad day. Besides, the pun in the post title was just too hard to resist. So let me see if I can find some other reasons to pretend to be sad.
A third-place finish in darts last night. I played like I hadn’t thrown or practiced in a week. I was sad about the way I threw and sad for being a disappointment to my partner. I can and will do better.
I’m pretty sure I mentioned firing Joy from the FWB program due to her incessant begging for more and more and trying to involve me in all her financial dramas and emergencies. The last straw was when she repeatedly begged for funds to pay her sister’s maternity fees. Nowadays Joy is begging me for forgiveness and wants us to be friends. I’ll get two or three of these messages throughout the day, but I don’t respond. I guess I may have to block her but I figure she’ll give up eventually. It’s kinda sad though.
Judy, my other FWB participant, pestered me about providing a massage so she could buy food for her kids. It wasn’t quite begging level, but maybe it’s a warning sign. I’m sad that so many folks are struggling these days but it is not my responsibility to solve their problems. I do what I can and that has to be enough.
I’ve come to terms I think with my feelings for Jessel. I’ll devote a separate post to discuss that roller coaster ride. I’m sad that my fantasies were not destined to be a reality, but then again, I would have been a lot sadder if I had experienced another crash and burn love disaster.
Obviously, if what I have written above is all I have to be sad about, I am doing pretty damn good. My challenge will be to not mess up a good thing by doing something stupid. Again.
