Infrequent incursions

Posted on 30/November/2022 by John McCrarey

Another “lazy” Tuesday is behind me, but at least this one featured some minor differences that made it slightly more interesting. Relatively speaking, of course.

In addition to my grocery shopping mission in Olongapo, I needed to get my first visa extension since my return from Cambodia. In the PI, you get thirty days on arrival, and then you can renew your tourist visa periodically for up to three years before being required to exit the country again. The Olongapo immigration bureau only grants a maximum of sixty days for each extension. Other offices, like Manila and Cebu, allow six-month extensions. So, I signed up for my usual two-month extension but was only granted one. Apparently, your first extension can only be for thirty days. At least in Olongapo. Why there are different rules in different offices that are arguably applying a national immigration law is beyond my limited ability to comprehend—just one of the mysteries that make the Philippines such a special place.

After I left immigration, I was tasked with picking up the 2023 Hash calendars from the printer. I don’t know much about Olongapo City streets, but I did have this photograph to work from:

The print shop is right around the corner from that CBS store. I showed this photo to my driver, and, seeing the yellow Jeepneys, told him it was Magasaysay street. Okay, let’s roll! Of course, it is a long road, and when we first turned onto it, nothing looked like the picture. Then I remembered that Scott told me it was after the traffic circle. With this added information, my driver proceeded until we reached the said circle, and then suddenly, it all became familiar.

Nothing unusual at the grocery store, other than a couple of “Thanksgiving sale” specials I took advantage of.

***This bag of strawberries usually is $15.55, and I just can’t pull the trigger at that price. Yesterday I bought them for $7.50. Half-price always puts a smile on my face.***

I had a headache when I got back home, so I popped some aspirin and took a nap. My mountain mama friend suggested a massage, and I accepted. She focused on my head. Both of them. And it had been a while since I explored her mancave with my fleshlight. A very happy ending, and miraculously, my headache was forgotten when she was done.

When beer o’clock rolled around, I headed out but didn’t really have a destination in mind. I was considering the new bars in town, but it felt too early in the evening to give them a fair review. I had some coupons from the SOB due to expire soon, but I wasn’t sure which one I wanted to use first. As I was passing BarCelona, I thought to myself, “you haven’t been there for a while,” so the decision was made.

The bar wasn’t very busy, so I took a seat at the counter with a nice street view and ordered a beer.

***My half-headed attempt at a selfie showing BarCelona’s interior.***

***I also enjoy the outdoor seating with highway views, but the sun was still too high in the sky for my comfort level.***

Not that the view from my seat was all that bad. That yellow building on the right is one of my regular haunts, Cheap Charlies. But I was focused on the Kalaklan ridge and looking for landmarks I’d experienced on previous climbs. It’s been a while, might be time to make a return visit.

***I also spied this old beggar man. He saw me, too, and stuck his hand out, even though I was three floors up. So, I wadded up a 20 peso bill and tossed it down to him. Hey, every little bit helps.***

While I had my wallet out, I perused my coupons and decided that the 500 peso voucher was the most valuable one, and it was due to expire the next day. So, I finished my beer and headed over to Queen Victoria.

***Beers at Queen Vic are 95 pesos each, so I settled in to get my money’s worth. I figured that five beers would do the trick.***

I had Susan sit with me to provide company during my beer-drinking mission. I met her years ago when she worked on the Arizona floating bar. Her daughter is the girlfriend of the Queen Vic owner. Yeah, if you are doing the math, that makes Susan well into her forties. That’s okay, I have no interest in anything but conversation, and she does okay in that regard. After successfully finishing my fifth beer, I sent Susan up to get my bill for her two lady drinks. I saw the manager talking to her, and then she returned with another beer “on the house.” I always appreciate the gesture, even though I felt obligated to buy Susan a drink while I enjoyed my “freebie.”

I had a “buy a lady drink get a customer drink” I also needed to use and decided that Whiskey Girl right across the highway was the right opportunity. It had been quite a while since my last visit, and I was looking forward to spending some time with my waitress friend Jen. Alas, I was informed she was not working last night. I went to use the CR and had to wait for some guy who was occupying the urinal. When he came out, I was surprised to see it was my old dart league teammate, Mark. It turns out he’s the new manager at Whiskey Girl. I didn’t see any likely candidates for a lady drink, so I just sat with Mark and watched the dancers practicing for Friday’s SOB.

***Good luck, girls. I’ve got to give them props for working hard to improve on their third-place finish last week. I had them at #2 on my scoresheet, so they are getting close.***

After I finished my beer, I figured putting some food in my belly might be a good idea. Keeping with my unintentional infrequently visited theme, I went to the BBC cafe and ordered some fish and chips for takeout (yeah, I’d had enough beer and was going home).

I’m not sure why I don’t come here more often. The British owner is pretty famous for his meat pies. I guess I’m just not drinking in this part of town that often. When the old Midnight Rambler bar was open (directly behind BBC), I’d order food from here to eat there.

Anyway, got my order and grabbed a trike waiting out front “going home now, sir John?” I still can’t figure out how everybody seems to know my name in this town. Still, it’s nice not to have to give directions on the ride home.

***I was disappointed there was no tartar sauce included, although there was a bag with the vinegar juice. It was okay tasting, and my boys enjoyed the leftover fish***.

And then I saw this on Facebook and shared it to my timeline:

The capacity to be alone is the capacity to love. It may look paradoxical to you, but it is not. It is an existential truth: only those people who are capable of being alone are capable of love, of sharing, of going into the deepest core of the other person—without possessing the other, without becoming dependent on the other, without reducing the other to a thing, and without becoming addicted to the other. They allow the other absolute freedom, because they know that if the other leaves, they will be as happy as they are now. Their happiness cannot he taken by the other, because it is not given by the other. ~Osho

That resonated in my drunken brain for some reason. This morning I saw that my friend Jeremy had a contrary opinion. He left this comment:

I don’t think that equates at all. To say that the other person being in your life is meaningless is describing an aspect of a sociopath. The other person should have an effect on you, and you should be upset if they ever happen to leave because they had that effect on you. It shows that you cared for them, which shows that you’re human.

By the way, that’s a quote from a cult leader.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rajneesh

Maybe that’s why I’m living a loveless life then–I’m a sociopath. And all these years, I thought it was narcissism. Or bad luck.

Anyway, I’m plugging away and making the best of what I do have. Even on dull days like yesterday, I had a pretty good time. Thanks for letting me share it with you.

Another half-assed Hash

Posted on 29/November/2022 by John McCrarey

But before we get to that, I wanted to say thanks to the commenters who took the time to offer thoughts and insights on my possible entry into the bar biz. Much appreciated!

Once again, I shortcutted the trail because one climb (out of three) was more than enough for me. My version provided a 4K hike rather than the six the Hares intended. I’m pretty sure they’ll get over it. Several members of the “sane” group followed my lead, so I didn’t suffer from loneliness on trail.

I know, I know. Less talk, more pictures. Here you go:

***The trail as it was intended to be done. If you can see the pin in the middle of the map above that shows 4 corners, that’s where I went instead of the long way around.***

***The first climb started up these stairs***

***And kept going and going and going***

***Our virgin Hasher seemed to enjoy herself***

***Trouble Cumming lending a hand to an old guy***

The tall thatch grass was lying down on top of the trail. This made it almost as slick as a ski slope. The girls went down the hill sliding on their sweet asses. My old ass preferred to keep my feet, but it wasn’t easy.

***Reminds me of what bears do in the woods.***

***Heading for Baloy beach and the On-Home at Da’ Kudos.***

The slowest Hasher I’ve ever seen. But once I shortcut and there was no marked trail to follow, I felt obligated to wait on him so he wouldn’t get lost. I’m not a patient man, as I was reminded yesterday.

***Harriettes love the camera, it seems.***

One more Hash in the books. When the festivities were done, I marched myself down to Snackbar and spent too much money on thirsty girls. Oh, well. You gotta spend it on something.

I went home early and pigged out on ice cream. It’s not just the beer that’s making me fat. Maybe I’ll make a New Year’s resolution to lose the gut. Still, with whatever limited time I may have left here on Earth, should I really spend denying myself the things I enjoy? What a dilemma!

Hello in there

Posted on 28/November/2022 by John McCrarey

I checked out the space that could potentially become The Rite Spot On The Beach. It has potential but would require quite a bit of refurbishment and money for new furniture. That wasn’t unexpected, so the next step will be to see how willing the owners are to partner with me in getting the work done. I also want to consult with Daddy Dave on some of the legalities involved. For example, I’m here on a tourist visa and am strictly prohibited from engaging in paid work. I’m not sure whether that applies to the actual ownership of a business, but I seem to recall that it does. One option would be to put the lease in a Filipino’s name and just be the silent partner sitting in the corner, drinking a beer and keeping his eye on things. Of course, that requires finding someone trustworthy. It would suck to successfully start the business only to have it stolen away because my name isn’t on the paperwork. So, there is still a lot more to explore.

The space as seen from the entrance. You have to pass through a small hotel’s lobby and down a corridor to get here, which is not ideal but not a deal breaker. There is also an entrance from the beachside.

I was surprised to learn that the pool is included in the space I’d be leasing. Of course, it’s in disgusting shape right now, having not been used since the scamdemic. Heidee says that the owner will be responsible for refurbishing the pool once a lease is negotiated. I hadn’t thought about having a pool as part of my bar, but I’m not put off by the idea either. I expect the hotel would make it available to their guests as well, but that is more potential customers. Not really keen on having noisy kids running around, though. So, we’ll see.

Now, this kind of pool is a good thing to have in the bar. The table would need to be recovered, and I’d have to purchase cues and other related equipment, but I’m happy to have this dedicated space.

It also has a rather large kitchen area. Completely unequipped, so that means more out-of-pocket expenses. That bricked area on the front counter is a barbeque pit which is pretty cool. I would not be offering a full restaurant-type menu, instead focusing on the usual pub fare items like burgers, dogs, sandwiches, and maybe some grilled meats on a stick. I’m also thinking a daily “crock pot special” might be kind of cool.

The bar itself is quite small but big enough to mix the drinks and hold ice chests for the beer. I’m also thinking offering draft beer would be a good option. I don’t expect many people would want to sit at the bar rather than facing the water, but I’d have a couple of barstools anyway.

This is where I’d have most of my seating. That’s the beach entrance on the left. One thing I would do is remove those bars and replace them with roll-down screens to lock up a night. If you are coming for the view (which is, after all, the attraction of a beach bar), you don’t want to feel like you are watching the world outside from a prison cell.

And here’s a shot looking into the bar from the beach. I’d have some tables and chairs, of course. Bar stools facing the beachfront. There’s a stage underneath that shark mural. I’m not really keen on loud live bands, but I could tolerate some occasional acoustic players to entertain my guests.

So, that’s what the space looks like, and it appears to be something I could work to develop into the kind of bar I’d like to hang out in. That’s actually my standard: would I drink here? As I said, there is a long way to go between the concept in my head and creating a reality on the ground. My interest is piqued, so I’ll see where the next step might lead me.

It was only 2:30 after my tour of “The Rite Spot,” but I didn’t feel like going back home for a couple of hours, so I declared a Sunday exception to my usual “beer o’clock” rule. Of course, it was feeding day for the Hideaway girls, so I made the trek across town. Along the way, I ordered a pizza from Shamboli’s for delivery. I didn’t have the chance to bake a dessert for the crew, so I popped into the Goldilocks bakery and bought a small cake and some baked snacks. Once I arrived at Hideaway, I sent Joy to Chooks for some fried chicken take-out. And dinner was served:

***The pizza. Hawaiian, as usual. The pineapple topping comes with ham and sausage. I had a slice, and it was pretty good.***

***I didn’t try the cake, but it looked good.***

***Looks like Joy was happy with the dessert.***

I did discover that when you bring in a cake from Goldilocks, everyone assumes it is someone’s birthday. The other customers in the bar kept wanting to buy me a shot for my special day. My denials elicited a “who’s birthday is it then?” response; I’d say “no one’s” which seemed hard to believe for everyone. Lesson learned, next time, if I don’t bake, I’ll bring a bag of cookies.

Getting there earlier in the day exposed me to a larger-than-usual group of Hideaway regulars.

A small town and its familiar faces. From left to right: Ray, who I’d never seen outside of his office (he’s my dentist); Leigh, who runs Thumbstar Bar; Joseph, the guitar player I wrote about a few days ago; Griff, manager of Hideaway and his gal, the blue shirt guy is the one who makes and sells Belgian chocolate and two other regulars whose names I don’t recall.

I started early and stayed longer, but the time came to start making my way back to my side of town. It Doesn’t Matter is about halfway, so it seemed like a logical place to stop and “rest.” Agnes was there to take care of me, and I wound up ordering us both some food. I waved at Alan and Christine walking by on the highway, and they came in to join me. Alan used to manage the bar at Palm Tree, so I picked his brain a little. I’m thinking if The Rite Spot happens, hiring someone like him to run the place might be the best way to go. Christine is the one who hooked me up with my future landlord, and she reassured me everything was still on track for my move next year. It was good to see them.

I had intended to go home after IDM, but once I hit the road, I decided to hoof it over to Snackbar for a quick visit with Lydell and the girls. I was extra careful crossing the highway, though. My pal John, who I’d seen earlier at Hideway, was sitting at an outside table by himself, so I joined him. Had a nice chat about some past happenings and his recent move. Lydell came out and joined us, so I quenched her thirst. Which attracted Jen and Ana like moths to a flame, so I bought them a drink too. It’s weird how that works–the more I drink, the more drinks I buy. Strange. Anyway, I’d had enough (did I spell too much wrong?), so grabbed a trike and headed up the hill to Alta Vista.

And so ended another day in my “best life.”

I got up this morning and did a beach walk on Baloy.

***A nice morning to be out and about.***

And this is Hash Monday, so I’ve got more steps coming. Including a return to Baloy for the ON-HOME at Da’Kudos. Look for a report on that adventure tomorrow.

You know that old trees just grow stronger,
And old rivers grow wilder every day.
Old people just grow lonesome
Waiting for someone to say, "Hello in there, hello."

So if you're walking down the street sometime
And spot some hollow ancient eyes,
Please don't just pass 'em by and stare
As if you didn't care, say, "Hello in there, hello."

My kind of day

Posted on 27/November/2022 by John McCrarey

Well, I guess technically, every day is my kind of day; what other kind is there? Nothing really special occurred, but it was satisfying regardless. Let’s do a playback, shall we?

I guess a good place to start might be with what didn’t happen. I crossed the National Highway in busy weekend traffic several times and managed not to get run over. Hot Zone owner Jay posted this video of someone not so fortunate. Word is that he survived with a broken leg, but damn, it could (might?) have been worse. Of course, he was leaving the bar at 0130, so I suspect he wasn’t feeling any pain.

I began my day in the usual way: up at 0400, coffee, internet, feed and walk the dogs.

***My Lucky boy isn’t one to pose for a photo.***

I also saw on the dog walk that yet another new house is beginning construction on my street. At least I’m far enough away from this one that I won’t have to hear the noise. Not that it matters since the four being built on all sides of my place ensure that peace and quiet are not in my immediate future.

***Supposedly the new house will look like this when complete.***

I had a brief meeting with my future landlord later in the morning, and everything appears to be on track for me to move in around the end of March. I am so looking forward to that!

I modified my standard Saturday walk somewhat, given the delayed start due to my meeting. And when I had my steps in, it was lunchtime. Not so coincidentally, I finished my trek at Sit-n-Bull. When I saw the lunch specials, I knew it would be a blessed day.

Thanksgiving leftovers! That’s always been my favorite part of the feast. This plate was more plentiful than the one I had a Papagayo on Thanksgiving, and it was HALF the price. Still no candied yams, though.

I was so inspired after my leftovers luncheon that I actually walked home (I usually am lazy and take a trike). I took a nap, blogged, played some solitaire, then baked up a batch of oatmeal raisin cookies.

No, they ain’t pretty, but I bake ’em the way I like ’em, and if that means sacrificing roundness, so be it. (My cookie sheet isn’t large enough to hold all the dough if I space it properly for individual cookies, so I usually get a large one, then cut it up.

Facebook memories reminded me that it was one year ago that my love and I climbed the mountain together in Pundaquit. I sent her a message saying, “what a difference a year makes.” She didn’t take the bait, saying only that she would be at Snackbar later. But that’s okay; I’ve moved on. She may have been my destiny, but she’s not my gonna be (I had a girl that I just met actually say that to me once). Still, the words of John Greenleaf Whittier resonate: Of all the sad words of tongue or pen, the saddest are these–it might have been.

Life goes on, and so do I. Beer o’clock on a Saturday evening rolled around, and so I headed out. I didn’t have a specific plan in mind, but there are a couple of newer bars I still need to review. Or maybe I’d just visit the venues where I have coupons to expend. I decided to start at Snackbar and figure out what to do from there.

And in a very unusual turn of events, I got to Snackbar and never left. Thought about it a few times, then said, “one more beer.” One beer led to another, the lady drinks started flowing, and I finally figured wherever else I might go wouldn’t be any more fun than I was already having, so why bother? I got drafted into DJ duty again and got some positive feedback on my song selections from other customers. See, I’m not totally worthless after all.

***The Snackbar crew. How could I walk away from that?***

***That’s not usually my preferred body shape, but Jen is such a sweetie I can’t help but be attracted.***

And, of course, there is Lydell. We’ve had two dinner dates now, and I also see her outside the bar when she participates in the hiking groups. In what may seem out of character for me, I’ve not been pursuing her with any vigor–not even anything physical. One day at a time, I suppose. If something happens, it happens. If not, I’m fine with that too.

***She’s the youngest girl in the bar at a mere 18 years old. Damn, she makes me look old! That’s me doing my Joe Biden impersonation.***

I have some pretty strong evidence regarding just how entertaining the gals found my wit and witticisms.

***They all spent a good deal of time popping the bubbles on this wrap. How can I compete with that?***

***And then there is Heidi. Pretty and smart. Her talents include graphic design. She’s not available relationship-wise, but I find her the easiest one to engage in meaningful conversation.***

In fact, we were talking last night, and I somehow mentioned that what Barretto needs is a nice beach bar that caters to expats. Heidi knew of one that was available, and the location sounds excellent for my imagined bar. The lease is 25,000 a month ($500), which to my mind at least, is doable. Granted, I’ve not crunched any numbers or done any background inquiries. It’s just a fantasy. That said, I agreed to meet with her this afternoon to take a look at the property. Everything is preliminary, but if I like the venue, I may look into seeing what the next steps would involve. Of course, I’d just be doing the financing–I’d need someone to actually run the place competently. Heidi says she can help me with that too. Hell, I probably spend five hundred a month in the bars; maybe I should spend it in my own place. So, we’ll see. The Rite Spot On The Beach. It’s got a ring to it.

My former love did make an appearance late in my visit. She was friendly and kind, just like she was to all the other customers. I’m nothing special now was the message I received loud and clear. What a difference a year makes, indeed.

I’d had all the fun and beer I could handle by nine, so I said my goodbyes and grabbed a trike for home. It was a good day, and I lived it without remorse or regret. I’d call that progress.

I was going to call this post “The best of all possible worlds,” but my archive search showed I used that previously. Those results also featured a post I wrote in October 2017 called “Should I stay or should I go” as I pondered the timing of my future re-retirement. Yikes! The Philippines life I had envisioned is not quite the one I’m living. In fact, it might be eerily reminiscent of the one I thought I was leaving behind. Maybe I haven’t progressed as much as I’d like to believe. Or perhaps this is as good as it gets.

Cause there's still a lotta drinks that I ain't drunk
Lots of pretty thoughts that I ain't thunk, oh yeah
Lord there's still so many lonely girls
In this best of all possible worlds

Something to SOB about

Posted on 26/November/2022 by John McCrarey

Began the day with a group hike and ended it with a SOB at Hot Zone. Yep, pretty much your standard Friday around here.

A small gathering of six took our weekly trek, and we opted to ride a Jeepney out to WalterMart in Subic, then walk back to Barretto on the backroads. Easy peasy. Actually, after we reached Naugsol, Jens and Martin split off to do a mountain climb while the rest of us hoofed onward to my house for refreshments. Photos from the journey at the end of this post.

The SOB was my evening entertainment, and while waiting for the doors of Hot Zone to open at 5:00, I popped up to Cheap Charlies to pass some time. I also ordered some dinner from Foodies downstairs.

***The honey garlic wings were outstanding.***

***And you can’t go wrong with the chicken fingers.***

On a whim, I invited Joy from Hideaway to join me for the SOB. She was reluctant at first, fearing someone would tell her boss. I actually find that aspect of the bar scene here disgusting. In bars that have “take-out,” a girl seen out with a customer who hasn’t paid a “bar fine” to the bar is considered a sneak-out in violation of the rules and can be disciplined (have the bar fine deducted from her already meager pay). Well, I don’t do bar fines, and a woman should be free to do as she pleases with whomever she pleases on her day off, FFS. Anyway, Joy did decide to come and said she enjoyed the show.

***Joy attended her first-ever SOB with an SOB.***

***The Whiskey Girl team finished third.***

But no one could compete with Hot Zone last night.

***Hot Zone’s act featured this amazing pole dancer…***

***…and some attractive and talented dancers.***

I sent Joy home after the show and started to think about where I would go next, but I decided the place I needed to go was home. So that’s what I did. I don’t have much staying power on the best of nights, but last night for some reason, I wasn’t breathing easy. Better to wimp out and live to tell (or write) about it another day. And now I have.

Oh, and I had a laugh-out-loud moment on the streets of Subic yesterday when I saw this sign posted to a telephone pole:

*Somehow posting a written entreaty to non-readers (in English, no less) doesn’t seem to me to be an effective marketing strategy. But what do I know? I can read.* ***Although maybe I should look into that “personality enhancement” program.***

Alright, here are those hiking pictures you’ve been waiting for:

***The path we walked from there to here.***

***Riding the Jeepney out to Subic town***.

***Our group shot on the highway after exiting the Jeepney.***

***On the busy streets of barangay Magnan-Vaca***

***Why did Lydell cross the river? To get to the other side. Duh.***

***The river in question, such as it is.***

***As trashy as it looks, at least this is a place that collects garbage for recycling. Better here than spread all over the countryside.***

***Planting the rice by hand appears to be back-breaking work.***

***Bridge #4. And yes, it is burning season.***

***We’ll cross that bridge when we are ready.***

***Julie and Lydell were ready first.***

***Martin and Jens went their own way after the bridge, and the rest of us went ours.***

***A passage through the grass is a blessing this time of year.***

***I’m surrounded by construction sites. It’s a boom town in my neighborhood.***

***Speaking of home, there it is. For a few more months, anyway.***

***Some after-hike refreshments–cheese quesadilla with chips and salsa.***

And that was the way things were. Now it’s about time to find out what’s going to happen next. See you here tomorrow!

UPDATE: A video of last night’s SOB (well, thirteen minutes of it, has been posted. Give it a look if you like watching pretty gals dancing. The pole dancer is first up, and she’s definitely worth a look.

I have a cameo appearance at the beginning.

The agony of da feast

Posted on 25/November/2022 by John McCrarey

One of the challenges to daily blogging is coming up with a unique title for each post. These days I do a quick search to make sure I’ve not used my proposed title previously. For example, today I had planned to call this post “Feast your eyes,” but turns out I’ve used that twice before, most recently in December 2018. Ah, the agony of having to think of something else.

So, last night’s Thanksgiving dinner at Papagayo was fine. Nice to hang out with some fellow expats in a nice venue with great views. The food itself was tasty enough, what little of it there was. I mean, the whole idea is having a feast on this holiday and what I got was little more than a sampler plate. Oh, and the meal cost was borderline insane–1200 pesos–that’s more than twenty bucks. Oh well, we sucked it up and enjoyed ourselves in true Thanksgiving fashion. Next year if I dine out, though, I’m going to be looking for an all-you-can-eat buffet. Going back for seconds (or thirds) is part of my tradition.

***Our table was beachside with this natural cover for shade.***

***Not that we needed much shade this time of day.***

***My fellow diners have arrived. Our waiter was kind enough to take this group shot. Service was excellent throughout the meal.***

***The pumpkin soup appetizer was quite tasty.***

***The main course was good too, what little of it there was.***

***Pumpkin pie for dessert. Tasted fine, but probably half the portion I’d typically expect for four dollars.***

***And the sun goes down on another Thanksgiving.***

Everyone went their separate ways after the meal. Lydell and I had a beer at Cheap Charlies, then walked together to the Snackbar, where I treated the girls to some blueberry cheesecake and lady drinks for Thanksgiving. And then I went home. Alone.

My Thursday morning walk was pleasant enough, but nothing special.

***I think that I shall never see a poem as lovely as a tree***

***All in all, we’re just another rock in the wall***

***That’s Alta Vista up on the hill. I took the pavement to get back home.***

You can Relive the hike if you please.

So, that was how my Thanksgiving went down this year. I’m thankful I was alive here to enjoy it. Here’s hoping I can say the same next year!

THANKS for GIVING me this DAY

Posted on 24/November/2022 by John McCrarey

Wishing all my readers who celebrate the holiday a Happy Thanksgiving!

I tend to rant and rave and accentuate the negative aspects of my life here, but on a deeper level, I realize I’ve been blessed. As one commenter noted on yesterday’s post, being an old man back in the USA is a whole other level of boredom and misery. I may not fill my hours in any meaningful way, but I do find ways to enjoy myself, at least most of the time.

Take yesterday, for example. Started out with a challenging hike with the Wednesday Walkers group and ended with some fresh walnut pie a la mode. The fact that I was a drunken mess by then isn’t really all that important.

I bought 1500 pesos ($30) worth of food at Sit-n-Bull to feed the gals at Hideaway. The menu included lasagna, chicken wings, chicken fingers, and Shanghai lumpia. It being an early Thanksgiving celebration, I did something I very rarely do–bought all the girls working a lady drink. By the time I left a couple of hours later, my bar tab was 2500 pesos. But can you really put a price on a good time?

***I got so caught up in the moment that I neglected to get any food shots. But here’s Joy consuming a quail egg…***

Speaking of Joy, Thursday is her normal off-day, and I was going to ask her to be my date for the Thanksgiving dinner party tonight. Alas, she told me (before I mentioned dinner) that there was going to be a brownout (scheduled power outage) in Barretto on Friday, so the bar was going to be closed. All the staff has that day off now instead of their regular schedule. Oh well. I did hear from a contrite Lydell later in the evening, and she agreed to join me for the feast tonight. So, I have a date!

***I made a reservation for six at 5:00 p.m. Another couple will also be coming along now, but I’m confident we can squeeze them into our table. I just hope the food is good and plentiful.***

Sit-n-Bull posted this photo of their dinner plate on FB. I chose Papagayo more or less on a whim. I’ve had good food there in the past, and I’ll be dining at a beachfront table. I do enjoy the view when I’m eating. Just another thing to be thankful for.

I’ll have a full report on how dinner goes tomorrow. And food pics, promise!

Speaking of photos, here are a few from yesterday’s hike:

***Not really long, but the trek did feature two climbs. We finished at my place, and I treated my fellow travelers to some beer and chicken nuggets.***

***Making our way up through Alta Vista***

***Waiting on the slow guy. Hey, these pictures ain’t gonna take themselves***.

***No ifs, ands, or…eh, never mind. They both have boyfriends.***

***Off the pavement and headed for the hills.***

***Laundry day in the creekbed. Remind me again to be thankful for all my blessings in life. I did give them some cookies, at least.***

***Regrouping at 4 Corners on the My Bitch trail.***

***And shortly thereafter, back up again.***

***A house in the wild. Hey, do you see what I see?***

***I think she’s looking at me. Could this be the love I’ve been dreaming of? Eh, too hard a climb to come see her.***

***Passing through my mountain friend Olivia’s place.***

***Sections of the trail were tough going because of the wild thatch grass***

***But most of the hike was quite pleasant***

***Down in the valley*** ***(yeah, I’m falling behind again)***

***Almost home. It was nice to have the group over for refreshments.***

You can Relive the hike here if you are so inclined.

You never know which day will be your last day, so treat each one as the blessing that it is. I have much to be thankful for in my life, and I hope I have many more Thanksgivings to reflect on my good fortune.

I’ll leave you with this reminder of just how damn old I truly am–the best Thanksgiving song ever. Probably the longest too, but it’s fun–play it for background noise.

Uniformly speaking

Posted on 23/November/2022 by John McCrarey

Welcome to another installment in the continuing trials, tribulations, and adventures of an American in the Philippines.

Another shopping day, and by golly, Royal is having a big Thanksgiving sale.

***Of course, the sale starts on Saturday, two days AFTER Thanksgiving. Only in the Philippines!***

The other big event in my day was accompanying my friend Bhel to see my physician, Dr. Jo. Bhel has been having issues with a frozen shoulder, and Dr. Jo recommended a treatment. I was just there to pay, and boy did I–the cost of the therapy and meds was 25,000 pesos, but Dr. Jo discounted it to 17,500 ($350). I was surprised it was so high, and I don’t carry that kind of cash around, so I had to return later with the payment. As long as the treatment works, it will be worth it.

Came back home and took a nap, and as seems to happen on a daily basis around here, before I knew it, beer o’clock had come around.

***My view as I left home and headed for the bars.***

I drink for a reason and with a purpose.

I kid. Mostly.

First stop was It Doesn’t Matter. Shared some drinks and “flirty” jokes with Juliet. All in fun, of course. She already has her Romeo. And just before I was ready to head out, he showed up, and Juliet introduced us. It wasn’t really awkward; he obviously knows how the game is played (I understand he met her several years ago when she worked at Cheap Charlies). Honestly, though, even if I meet my future girlfriend in a bar (and the odds of that are pretty high, I reckon), I would give her an allowance so she could quit her job. I see how a lot of these guys treat the girls (ass-grabbing and the like), and I couldn’t tolerate someone touching my gal like that. Anyway, not my problem. Yet.

My next stop was Cheap Charlies. All my regular gals were otherwise occupied with other customers, so I drank alone. Hey, it’s cheaper that way! And Cheap Charlies has the best view from the CR (comfort room/restroom) in Barretto.

***Maybe I should have just brought my beer with me and stood at the urinal all night.***

I was getting hungry and had an errand to run at Thumbstar (repaying some money to a waitress friend of Bhel’s), so I headed out. When I saw a gal I know was cooking in the small kitchen out front of Thumbstar, I decided to take care of business while taking care of business.

***I couldn’t decide between the chicken burger and the chicken shwarma, so I had both. They were both good, too.***

Turned out that I knew the waitress friend of Bhel (played against her in darts), so the transaction had a pleasant aspect as well. I bought my cook friend a lady drink, then headed up the highway.

I had a coupon for Whiskey Girl (buy a lady drink, get a free customer drink) that I knew would make my waitress friend Jenn happy, so that’s where I headed. Jenn was at the door to greet me when I arrived. So, we sat down, and I put the coupon to work. The Whiskey Girl dancers were practicing for Friday’s SOB, and their uniforms arrested my attention.

She turned away just as I took the photo, so you can’t see the cute face. To be honest, what had caught my attention was that the top of her uniform didn’t cover the bottom of her boobs. Her arm is in the way, but you can still kinda see it. And yes, the beers may have been impacting my judgment by this point in the evening.

Lydell sent me a greeting, so I decided to make Snackbar my final stop for the night. One of the customers was celebrating his 70th birthday, and the party was still going strong when I arrived.

***I’m barely acquainted with Joseph, but he is a fine musician and was busy entertaining the crowd on his acoustic guitar (I didn’t see him play whatever that is on his back in this photo).***

When Joseph* finished playing, he wanted to hear a particular song, but the YouTube connection was erratic. So, I paired up my Spotify with the Bluetooth speaker, and the dancing commenced. I was surprised and impressed to see him doing some of the best country swing dancing I’ve seen since I left Arkansas. Good to see the elderly rockin’ it. Especially since I are one. (Yeah, I did that on purpose; I’m writing with a Southern accent. Okay, I’ll stop now).

Anyway, I shared a couple of drinks with Lydell, and she told me she would be joining the hike this morning. She was a no-show, though. When I messaged her, she told me she had overslept. Alrighty, then. I had planned to invite her to be my date for tomorrow’s Thanksgiving dinner, but now I’m not so sure. Maybe I’ll bring Joy from Hideaway instead. We’ll see.

***A friend sent me this Thanksgiving menu from Arizona Resort. I’m dining at Papagayo. I hope the menu there is this good. I’ll find out tomorrow.***

I had been lamenting about some memories from days gone by in my post yesterday. Coincidentally, I came across this today:

***Yeah, nothing to lament. Just more of those moments that make up a life. I’ll try to adjust my attitude accordingly.***

And finally, here’s a memory of an old joke I posted on Facebook seven years ago (I don’t think I posted it here, but if I can’t remember, neither can you!)

A priest offered a lift to a Nun.

She got in and crossed her legs, forcing her gown to reveal a leg.

The priest nearly had an accident. After controlling the car, he stealthily slid his hand up her leg.

The nun said, “Father, remember Psalm 129?”

The priest removed his hand.

But, changing gears, he let his hand slide up her leg again.

The nun once again said, “Father, remember Psalm 129?”

The priest apologized “Sorry sister but the flesh is weak.”

Arriving at the convent, the nun went on her way.

On his arrival at the church, the priest rushed to look up Psalm 129.

It said, “Go forth and seek, further up, you will find glory.”

Moral of the story: If you are not well informed in your job, you might miss a great opportunity.

And there you have it.

It is feeding day again at Hideaway; going to make it a little special this time since it is Thanksgiving Eve. No, there won’t be turkey, but I’ll do a variety of items from the Sit-n-Bull menu to bring the girls. I’ve already baked the brownies.

I’ll be back with more tomorrow. You’ve been warned!

It's been a long time comin' (Long time comin')
It's goin' to be a long time gone (Long time gone)

But you know
The darkest hour
Is always, always just before the dawn

And it appears to be a long
Appears to be a long
Appears to be a long time
Such a long, long, long, long time before the dawn

* Corrected the spelling of the name Joseph after a reader pointed out the error of my ways in a comment. I know better. Honest!

Hashing down memory lane

Posted on 22/November/2022 by John McCrarey

Our “outstation” Hash trip to Pundaquit is in the books, and for this Hasher, it was overall the best trail I’ve ever hiked. Maybe the saddest too. I’ll get to that part in a bit.

The initial climb was long and hard, just as I expected it would be. The frustrating part was just when it seemed the summit was in sight, it turned out to be an illusion, and the uphill slog continued. That happened three or four times before the top was finally achieved. I was huffing and puffing almost as severely as I do after sex lately. Not quite that bad, though; otherwise, I’d likely have died on the mountain.

Once up top, though, it was like walking through a dream. Varied landscapes, lots of trees, and incredible views. Truly amazing. I hope the photos I share come close to capturing that magical feeling I experienced on the trail.

The down seemed eerily familiar, and as I progressed, I started to recognize some landmarks. Yes, I had been here before. Five days shy of exactly one year ago. Although on that previous visit, I was climbing up the mountain, not coming down. Looking back, that had been one of the best days of my life in the Philippines. Mainly because I had spent it with the last woman I loved. She’s gone now, and life goes on, but the hole in my soul remains. And as I walked that path we had shared in reverse, the memories came flooding back. When you are living those moments, you are just enjoying them for what they are, not worrying about what will happen next. When you are reliving the memories, knowing what the future has brought, it is hard not to feel regret. Still, I wouldn’t have missed it for the world.

The On-Home was at Monty’s Riverside View Resort, a place I had visited with the Hash in 2018. No bad memories from that one, and after more than a few beers, I had drowned my sorrows and let go of the past once again.

Ready for some photos? Let’s do it!

***My favorite Hash trail ever. A hard climb, a beautiful stroll on the ridgeline, and a challenging down (both physically and emotionally) all packed into just a little more than 6K.***

***The Hash hired a bus to carry us all to Pundaquit, just under an hour from Barretto.***

***Receiving last-minute instructions from the Hare. Anal Receptive, Leech My Nuggets, and Vienna Sausage earned accolades and kudos for a job well done!***

***There before us lays the beast that must be conquered. Make no mistake; she is mightier than she appears at first glance.***

***Apparently, this area is being groomed to become a mountain resort. Well-manicured trails…***

***And for the first portion of the claim, some stone steps are being constructed.***

***Periodically, there would be places like this, the purpose of which I cannot discern.***

***Thems some pretty fancy steps that don’t seem to be going anywhere that might require such infrastructure.***

***We didn’t let that stop us, though.***

***Ah, I guess that explains it. The steps lead to this area where you can sit and relax after climbing all those steps to get here.***

***No more steps, but the path is nice.***

***What? Another viewpoint? Does this mountain never end?***

***A couple of Hashers from Angeles City I passed on the trail.***

***And then, as we began the descent, the Hares had left this warning. Little did I know what was in store for my weary heart.***

***Wait a minute! I’ve seen that sign before! Oh yeah, now I remember…***

***The right place but the wrong girl.***

***Another viewpoint on the way down.***

***I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was missing here.***

***Oh, there she is! Thanks for the memories.***

***The steps back down to the resort area.***

***It was almost a year ago that I shared breakfast with a lovely lady in that nipa hut on the left.***

***Leaving Stonehill (and the past) behind.***

***And a kilometer of roadwork later, I found myself at Monty’s for the Hash On-home.***

There was another first-ever event in my Hashing experience–a search and rescue mission. One of the Hashers had burned out on top of the mountain (probably from dehydration) and didn’t have the energy to proceed. Anal Receptive and Vienna Sausage headed back up the mountain (from the way we came down) and brought some water, Gatorade, and ice. They soon enough had him back on his feet and back at Monty’s just about the time the Hash circle was concluding. Well done, gentlemen!

Another aspect of the outstation format is the bus ride home. Imagine, if you will, fifty drunken Hashers in a bus (with more beer on board for consumption) singing their Hash ditties in a loud and obnoxious manner that is the style and custom of the Hash.

Good times!

You don’t bring me flowers anymore

Posted on 21/November/2022 by John McCrarey

Another strange ending to a day that started off in full bloom.

So, I did the Sunday feeding at Hideaway as planned.

***Joy attacking an innocent slice of Hawaiian pizza***

***And taking a bite out of a cupcake.***

After having enough beers to catch a buzz, I decided to head to my side of town and visit the girls at Snackbar. Well, I had one girl in particular that I longed to see. Alas, she wasn’t working last night. So, I sent her a message, and she asked me how my day was. I told her the same as usual, walking in the morning, beer in the evening, and being lonely all the time. That was my silly attempt to tell her I missed her. Her response left me flabbergasted:

“Why don’t you find a partner so you are not lonely at night?”

What the hell? I thought that is what I was working on with her. Mind you, I’d been drinking some, but it still felt like an icy-cold rejection. So, I told her, thanks for letting me know. I’ll keep looking, then. She said she was sorry if she had hurt my feelings, and I told her I appreciated her honesty.

“I like you yes but im shy to tell you that. And im not really sure about my feeling to you i dont want to hurt you.”

All I could say in response was, “thanks for that.” And that’s where the conversation ended. Still, I guess I should be thankful for a kick in the nuts now as opposed to a knife in the heart later. And it was good of her to honestly share what she was feeling. I guess I’m a lucky guy, after all.

I went to the CR and took a piss. There was a mosquito on the wall.

***I murdered it, but I could tell by the blood it had enjoyed a hearty last meal. Not mine, at least.***

***And this homeless dog had found some comfort in the comfort room.***

Sat back down at my seat, ordered up another beer, and proceeded to get on with the rest of my life. Bought my waitress a lady drink and started thinking about Plan B.

***Twenty-five years old and told me she’d be happy to fill any voids in my life. Hmm.***

Oh, well. Who knows what today will bring? Actually, I do. Catching a bus this morning for Pundaquit, where we are doing a special “outstation” Hash run. I love that area, and I’m really looking forward to the trip, even though there will be a mountain climb in my immediate future once we arrive. A full report on that adventure tomorrow.

***It’s about an hour away from Barretto.***

Alright, about those flowers the title of this post alluded to–I devoted my morning walk to taking photos of some of the blossoms I encountered along the way. It was my standard Sunday Solo Stroll; I just kept an eye out for some of nature’s finest. Here you go:

***The path I walked was a little under 8K and ended at Sit-n-Bull.***

***I was trying to capture the flowers blossoming in that tree, but my camera skills failed me.***

***I tried to zoom in here but didn’t like the result.***

***I know nothing about the types (breeds?) of flowers; I just like the way they look.***

***A field of tiny yellow flowers growing on vines. Looks much better in real life.***

***Some white in a sea of yellow. Sounds like a metaphor for expats in Asia. Or is that racist?***

***Probably the most common type I saw.***

***I liked this flower within a flower look***

***I was feeling a little bushed at this point.***

***This is the Philippines, after all.***

Anyway, you can Relive the walk if you want.

https://www.relive.cc/view/v8qVnEpmx7q

Oh, I also made a reservation for Thanksgiving dinner at the Papagayo Resort hotel. Let’s see if I can find a date to join me.

Damn, I hadn’t thought of this song in decades, but if the shoe fits, you gotta wear it.

It used to be so natural
To talk about forever
But 'used to be's' don't count anymore
They just lay on the floor
'Til we sweep them away

And baby, I remember
All the things you taught me
I learned how to laugh
And I learned how to cry
Well I learned how to love
Even learned how to lie

You'd think I could learn
How to tell you goodbye
'Cause you don't bring me flowers
Anymore

Saturday night special

Posted on 20/November/2022 by John McCrarey

***The morning was pretty nice too.*** ***See my future home down there?***

Started the day with my SSS (standard Saturday streetwalk) through Barretto. It’s been the Christmas season since September (the Ber months, as they are called), and the decorations are out in full force.

***I thought this one was the star of the neighborhood.***

I started my Saturday evening beer drinking at It Doesn’t Matter. I guess the big news was that one of their biker customers had a wreck in Subic during a group ride and had been hospitalized. Word is that there are no broken bones, and a full recovery is expected.

In less important news from IDM, I decided to relent and give my ex-favorite bargirl, Agnes, another chance. When I offered her a lady drink, she literally jumped for joy, gave me a hug, and thanked me. She’s gone a month without one; I reckon that’s punishment enough. I admonished her not to repeat her bad behavior, and she promised that she would not. I do think she learned her lesson.

***A light rain was falling early in the evening, with the clouds obscuring the top of Kalaklan ridge.***

I still had some time to kill before dinner, so I popped up to Cheap Charlies for another beer. I was surprised to see Jona working again (she left before the scamdemic), so I welcomed her back with a lady drink. Alma gave me a back rub and earned a drink as well. I didn’t stay long; I had something special planned.

***I’d been given this flyer during my dinner date on Thursday at Hops & Brews, and I was looking forward to giving it a try.***

I arrived a few minutes after six, and the grill out front was loaded and smokin’:

I don’t know if this is a one-off thing or a weekly event. The manager wasn’t sure either. I suspect they are waiting to see how popular the grilled food turns out to be. They didn’t have a menu; the waitress just asked if I wanted pork or chicken. I wondered if I could get a combo, and she went to check and told me, “no.” So, I went with the pork.

Pork on a plate. It was okay. The portion seemed a little small for the 450 peso price. It was flavorful and all, but I like the taste of the Mango’s grilled pork chops better, and they are bigger and juicier. If there is a next time, I’ll give the chicken a try.

I’m still enjoying the vibe at Hops & Brews, though. Another acoustic duo was playing, featuring a female vocalist. I liked the group from Thursday better and was hoping to introduce myself to Raymond, a friend of my friend in Shanghai. The manager told me they play Tuesday through Thursday. So, I’ll catch him later.

Then it was off to the Green Room to put my “buy one, get one” coupon from the SOB to work. I drank my fill, watched the gals playing pool, and headed on home before 9:00 like the good boy I am.

***I was given the blessing of another day of life and took advantage by enjoying this Sunday morning view from my patio.***

As I’ve been writing this post, I’ve also been baking some cupcakes for the Sunday feeding at Hideaway Bar. Tonight the girls will be enjoying a Hawaiian pizza from Shamboli’s for dinner. I hope that makes their day as special as mine.

A night to forget

Posted on 19/November/2022 by John McCrarey

Things don’t always go according to plan, even when you don’t have much of a plan to begin with. Last night should have been a good time, but I wound up sitting alone in a bar, feeling sorry for myself. I hear what you’re thinking: what else is new? Well, things got worse after that, so I drank more, and maybe that wasn’t such a good idea. I don’t know, still feeling blue today, but I’m fixin’ (man, those years down south left a mark) to put it all behind me and see if tonight turns out to be worth remembering.

As I mentioned in yesterday’s post, Paula, the Snackbar owner, was celebrating her birthday, and her loyal customers would help her make the day as special as she is. My initial plan was to show up around four, head to Alaska Club for the SOB at five, and then return to Snackbar afterward. But I changed my mind and decided to skip the SOB and just enjoy the birthday party vibe.

***A gift for Paula and some fresh baked blueberry muffins and brownies as my contribution to the feast***.

I arrived early, expecting I’d spend some time with Lydell, but she was otherwise occupied. I talked to some other folks, and then the tiny bar (most of which is seating outside at tables in the parking lot) began to fill up. I went to use the restroom, and when I returned, the waitress had seated several strangers joining me at my small table. Eh, I understand at a crowded event with limited seating, you can’t expect to have prime territory for your exclusive use. Still, interacting with strangers is not my nature, so I moved to a less desirable location. And as I sat there, my mood darkened until I reached the point where I didn’t want to be there anymore. So, I wished Paula a happy birthday again and left. I wasn’t sure what I was going to do next, but I knew it would involve beer.

As I approached Alaska Club, I saw people outside signing up for the SOB. I approached the table and saw that there had only been a dozen or so admissions so far, so I figured I could still get a good seat. I paid my 700 pesos and went inside.

My favorite spot was already taken, which was no surprise, but the waitress sat me on a small couch (big enough for two) along the wall in front of the stage. That’ll work. I usually have someone from the host bar join me for the event (I buy their company with lady drinks), but last night a customer brought all the Alaska girls down from the stage for drinks. That’s okay; I figured my regular Joy (the skinny one with no boobs and stretch marks) would join me after her team danced. She didn’t, though, and so I sat there alone. The storm clouds in my brain continued to darken. I tried to drown the discontent in beer without success.

When the show was over, I left Alaska and stood on the highway thinking, what next? Fuck it; I’ll go back to Snackbar. When I arrived, the party was still in full swing, but I was able to find a seat inside. Lydell had already left but came back when I messaged her, so I was finally able to buy her a drink. I was in big spender mode and bought drinks for several of the other girls as well. And I finally started feeling a little better about things.

And then a drunken guy I know (I’ll call him Earl) came in. He was being loud and obnoxious, which is not unusual for him when he’s been drinking. Earl hadn’t ordered a drink yet, but when the waitress walked by with a half-finished drink from another table, he attempted to grab it from her. I reached out and grabbed it first, and told him if you want a drink, buy one like everyone else. He tried to argue that it was just going to be thrown away, so why not. I told him it didn’t work that way. I guess the argument escalated, although I don’t recall what all was said; eventually, Earl left in a huff. The other customers applauded his departure, and several thanked me for intervening.

I left shortly after that, and when I got home, I saw that he had sent me some messages:

You a bitch

Fucking with me

Suck my dick ass hole

Dont be a prick towards me

Ill fuck you up Bitch

Be peaceful dick head

If you understand peace dick

Apparently, I pissed him off. He didn’t talk so tough in person, though. I sent him this response:

You were being an asshole. If you don’t like it, don’t be an asshole.

This morning I noted that he had deleted all his tough guy words to me. No apology, though. Fuck him; I don’t need that kind of drama in my life anyway. Normally, I can’t be baited into those types of confrontations, but it was just one of those nights for me for some reason.

So, that’s how my day ended. It started out much better with a hike in the Bolon Falls area out in the hills on the far side of Subic town. We only had three folks show up for the Friday group, so once again, Scott volunteered to drive us to some rarely-visited areas. We were last out that way over a year ago. A couple of moderate climbs and several get-your-feet-wet creek crossings, but still quite nice overall. We also passed through an Aeta (native Filipino) village, which I always find quite fascinating for some reason. Very friendly and smiling, despite living in abject poverty.

***The path we walked. You can see on the left that straight line–our climb to the top and retreat from whence we came when we could not find a viable path back down the other side.***

***Jim and Scott joined me for this adventure.***

***Did I mention we were walking on water a lot during the first half of the hike?***

***Life may be challenging, but you can choose to be happy***

***Lots of yellow flowers on the way up***

Scott and Jim hadn’t been on this part of the trail since 2016. This used to be a church. Heaven knows why someone chose to build it halfway up a frickin’ mountain, but apparently, the congregation voted with their feet. Or didn’t.

***Nope, we can’t get there from here. Turn around!***

***Those shoes ain’t gonna tie themselves.***

***And arriving safely back at the car. A fine hike, all in all.***

And it turned out to be the best part of the day.

Is something brewing?

Posted on 18/November/2022 by John McCrarey

A diamond of a morning
Waked me an hour too soon;
Dawn had taken in the stars
And left the faint white moon.

O white moon, you are lonely,
It is the same with me,
But we have the world to roam over,
Only the lonely are free.
–Sara Teasdale

I’d call last night’s dinner for two a success, at least by my admittedly low standards. I had no expectations, so I couldn’t be disappointed. That’s just the way I roll these days.

We had agreed to meet at Hops & Brews at six, but I arrived a little after five. Hey, I just wanted to ~~get a couple of beers in~~ make sure we had a nice table to sit at. Here are some views from the one I chose:

***And a view of the clouds through the open ceiling***.

Once again, I was greeted by name by several of the waitresses. The manager also came by for a fist bump, and later the owner and I had a brief chat. They all certainly make you feel welcome here; I’ll grant them that.

I sent Lydell a message around 5:30 telling her I had arrived early, and she asked if she could join now. Of course! I was glad she was anxious to start our date too.

We had some beer and ordered our food–spaghetti bolognese for her, calamari and Yom tom soup for me. Sorry, Lydell had all my attention, and I forgot to take a photo of our meals.

***Well, I did get this shot of Lydell as she finished eating.***

Just some small talk over dinner, no great revelations or professions of undying love (thank God I kept those thoughts to myself!). I’m kidding, of course. I’m still in getting to know her mode, and I’m intentionally taking things slow. She did show me some pictures of her kids (a four-year-old daughter and a two-year-old son), and they looked cute and happy. They stay with her mother in Subic-town when she is working.

About the time we were done eating, an acoustic duo started playing their guitars and singing. Old songs I knew the words to and at a volume that didn’t deter table talk. A nice touch!

***You can kinda sorta see them on stage.***

Anyway, I asked Lydell if she had any post-dinner plans, and she told me she was going back to work. I asked if she wanted to join me for an after-dinner drink at Voodoo (I had a coupon, and it was right around the corner), and she agreed. We did our drinks, chatted with one of the dancers there (I had a free lady drink coupon, too), then said our goodnights.

Lydell wasn’t able to join today’s hike, but I’ll see her later this evening at Snackbar. It’s the owner Paula’s birthday, and they are having a special event in her honor.

So, that’s the story of my first date with Lydell. It seems like she’ll be interested in a follow-up get-together too. Maybe I’ll cook for her next time. We’ll see.

As much as I always lament my lonely life, the reality is I’m not all that eager to let it go. As the Teasdale poem I posted above says, only the lonely are free. Still, it was nice to share a meal for a change, so I’ll just try and keep thinking with my big head and see what happens next.

Wish me luck!

Club footed

Posted on 17/November/2022 by John McCrarey

***And the wheel in the sky keeps on turning.***

We only had four in attendance for the Wednesday Walkers group yesterday, so Scott volunteered to drive us out to the Cawag barangay in Subic so we could do a hike in and around Club Morocco. We only make it out this way once a year, so it was nice to take in the unique views this area offers once again. As I mentioned in last year’s post about Club Morocco, the subdivision was developed by the same company as Alta Vista but is twice the size. Most of the lots have not been built on, which gives an apocalyptic feel to the empty streets. Great area for hiking, though. I’ve got lots of photos from the adventure I’ll share at the end of this post.

The feeding at Hideaway Bar last night went well, with fried chicken and brownies for the girls.

And an unusually good time at the bar too. The only other customer and I alternated picking songs to be played on the big screen, and we both seemed to enjoy each other’s selections. I upped the ante by playing a classic Marty Robbins tune I first listened to as a child sitting at my father’s feet while he drank beer and played records after work. As I sang along, I laughed inwardly at the relevance of the lyrics to my current life:

Out in the West Texas town of El Paso
I fell in love with a Mexican girl
Nighttime would find me in Rosa's cantina
Music would play and Felina would whirl

Blacker than night were the eyes of Felina
Wicked and evil while casting a spell
My love was deep for this Mexican maiden
I was in love but in vain, I could tell

One night a wild young cowboy came in
Wild as the West Texas wind
Dashing and daring, a drink he was sharing
With wicked Felina, the girl that I loved

Well, I haven’t gotten in a gunfight over a girl here. Yet. Anyway, it was fun. I had a couple more beers in Green Room later, then finished my night at Snackbar.

And that brings me to my big news. I have a dinner date tonight. I’m going to take her to Hops and Brews, the new place in town I recently reviewed. It was kind of funny because after confirming the dinner plans, she told me this was the first time someone had asked her to dinner as a date. So, in that sense, I guess I’ll be dining with a virgin. She does have two kids, though.

***Is anyone surprised that it’s my hiking buddy, Lydell?***

***Coincidentally, this popped up in my Facebook memories today. I have no expectations with Lydell, and maybe that’s a good thing. She’s nice company, and being alone all the time gets old.***

Well, I guess I’m never really alone. There’s always beer.

***It is important to maintain a healthy lifestyle at my age.***

I saw this today, and all I could think was, “supercalifragilisticexpialidocious.”

***If I use big words here at LTG, I usually misspell them.*** ***Like punchuation.***

Alright, enough of this nonsense. Let’s get to those hiking pictures (a group effort with Scott and Lydell):

***An 8K jaunt that was harder than I remembered. Lots of long road ups, which somehow feel worse than going up dirt trails.***

***We walked past the Keppel shipyard.***

***A beach resort that appears not to have survived the scamdemic.***

***At Club Morocco.*** ***I would enjoy living here if it weren’t so damn isolated.***

***This was low tide too. It must be tough not getting wet feet when the tide is high.***

***Even so, there is a charm about these places.***

***Where’s the beach? Oh, taking the photograph.***

***Last year when the water was up, we were wading across here. Yesterday we were walking through mud.***

***We did have one off-road hill climb. Short but steep.***

***Pretty much straight up, but the locals had cut steps into the dirt incline, which made it much easier going.***

***Rollin’ on the empty streets of Club Morocco***

***A view deck, you say? Let’s have a look.***

***And there’s our car up ahead, right where we left it.***

It was a nice change of pace and, while not as easy as it appears, quite enjoyable.

Hopefully, I can say the same thing about my dinner date tonight. See you here tomorrow!

They don’t write ’em like that anymore.

Tue much of nothin’

Posted on 16/November/2022 by John McCrarey

I reckon Tuesday isn’t that much different from any other day in my so-called life, but I do take a day off from walking and spend that time shopping for groceries. The only blog-worthy news in that regard is that for the first time since the scamdemic began, I was permitted in the supermarket without a mask. Can sanity once again be on the horizon?

I guess the fact that prices continue to inflate is not a surprise, but I’m sporting a sore neck from all that shaking my head in disgust.

***If you’re hungry for some fish, this one’s a steal. Otherwise, you have to pay almost $90. to take it home.***

But it wasn’t all bad news:

***These cheese slices were on “sale” for only $6.20. They were $9.50 last week.***

I’d say things are bound to get better soon, but I’m just too pessimistic.

***Maybe I can’t overcome my procrastination problem, but I’m going to try anyway. Starting tomorrow.***

The day took a turn for the better when my mountain mama friend paid me a visit and gave me one of her special massages. I even managed to avoid a breathing attack at the end–barely. That’s progress.

I do sometimes wonder how much longer I’m destined to spend time among the living. Don’t get me wrong, other than the lung issues, as far as I know, I’m getting along okay for an elderly man. I’m still out there doing the things I enjoy, and I’m in no hurry to slow down. I wouldn’t even call it morbid curiosity; it’s more of a fleeting thought like, “how much longer can I keep this up?” I don’t even dwell on that beyond thinking “as long as I can.” Still, it is an inspiration to take each day as it comes and live it like there’s no tomorrow. Someday there won’t be.

Alright, enough of that depressing kind of talk! This gave me a chuckle:

***Is that you, Martin (18 Kilo Ass)?***

A commenter asked about food at the Hash. Here’s what I had Monday:

***That’s the Vikings Resort Hawaiian pizza. I’d rate it average, but damn, it was the biggest pizza I ever did see. It fed four hungry Hashers.***

Just in case you are worried that you’ve wasted precious minutes of your life reading this blog post, let me share this piece of valuable information with you:

***Now, wherever you are in the world, you won’t have to go thirsty! You are welcome.***

Spent some time up on the roof at BarCelona yesterday evening with my pal Max. Hadn’t seen him for a while, so it was good to catch up. And the view up there is always nice too.

***I’m not sure what all that traffic was about.***

After BarCelona, we paid a visit to Alaska Club. I had a voucher to use, and Max hadn’t been there before. Hey, any excuse will do, right? Naturally, I invited my dancer friend Joy to join us. She was still tired from Monday’s pool party. I wasn’t able to attend that event because it conflicted with the Hash, but I saw some pictures, and it looked like a good time.

Max had to go, and my voucher was fully utilized, so I said goodnight to Alaska. Once on the street, I realized that my beer desire was not yet fully satiated, so I popped into Whiskey Girl and visited my friend Jen.

***It had been a while since I’d last seen her (Halloween). I need to come back more often, I guess.***

Home by a little after 8:00 and in bed by 9:00; seems I’m getting back on my old schedule once again.

It’s feeding night at Hideaway, and after that, who knows? Stop by here tomorrow for a full report.

Too much of nothing
Can make a man ill at ease
One man's temper might rise
While another man's temper might freeze
In the day of confession
We cannot mock a soul
Oh, when there's too much of nothing
No one has control.

Say hello to Valerie
Say hello to Vivian
Give them all my salary
On the waters of oblivion.

It’s a Bob Dylan song, but this is the version I heard first, and I still like it best.

Half-Ass Hash

Posted on 15/November/2022 by John McCrarey

Half a Hash trail is better than no Hash trail. And sometimes half a trail is better than a whole trail. That was the case for me yesterday. Some of us retreated from the first big climb and took an alternative route. Still had to do an up, but this one was not so steep or long. Our “sane” path came in at 6K of the original 10K slog the Hare, Almoranus, had laid out for us.

***Yesterday’s Hash trail. The green is the “sane” group’s shortcut.***

***The trail went up, but we turned left.***

***I crossed that bridge when I came to it.***

***A cookie delivery for my mountain friend Oliva and her family.***

***The thatch grass was as big a pain in the ass as ever.***

***In through the backdoor to Alta Vista***

***…and the On-Home at Vikings Resort***

***End of the hike refreshments, a fine Hash tradition.***

***Hanging out, waiting for the circle to commence***

It was good to be back on the Hash trail again. That makes one in a row! Next week we are doing an outstation run at Pundaquit in San Antonio. Looking forward to that one.

The way I roll

Posted on 14/November/2022 by John McCrarey

Here’s how it all went down. Started off with my usual Sunday stroll, with a couple of deviations.

***The back streets of San Isidro at 1.6K***

***The view from where I stood at 3.2K***

***An out-of-sequence shot of Easter mountain.***

***4.8K in the Santa Monica subdivision***

***And the view from my street at the end of the hike.***

As usual, here’s your chance to Relive the moment:

Back home for some napping, baking, and blogging. Saw this on the internet and found myself nodding in agreement:

***Been there, done that. Hurts about the same.***

This poem showed up in my Facebook memories, and it still resonates:

Now while my lips are living
   Their words must stay unsaid,
And will my soul remember
   To speak when I am dead?
Yet if my soul remembered
   You would not heed it, dear
For now you must not listen,
   And then you could not hear.
--Sara Teasdale

Anyway, I’m not dwelling on the past so much these days; making the best of what I’ve got is good enough. The cupcakes came out good, had to wait almost 45 minutes for my take-out order at John’s place, but then, I guess you can’t rush quality. Everything was delicious.

***And the chicken wings. When I saw this pic, I told her I was going to caption it, “Just like a penis, only smaller.” And now I have.***

I also learned a new phrase in Tagalog: utang na lang, which loosely translates to “I’ll pay you later.” A Filipino customer said that when he couldn’t pay his bar tab. I guess he’s a regular and pays once a month or so. I tried it out, but I can’t take credit. They just laughed.

When I left Hideaway Bar, I walked all the way across town to Baloy road to visit the Snackbar. My favorite, Lydell, was there to greet me. Had a few with her and the other gals, then called it an early night (8 p.m.); I guess these past couple of days have been too much of a good thing.

Woke up early and rested. Even though it is Hash Monday, I decided to take a walk out to Baloy beach and back.

***The Blue Rock resort is exactly 1.6K from my house. Who knew?***

It’s been a few weeks since I walked this way, and I was really surprised at how what used to be a vibrant community full of ramshackle houses and cheap beach resorts has been completely leveled and cleared. The story is a new hotel is going to be built.

***What’s left of the floating bar after being washed ashore during the big storm a couple of weeks ago. I doubt it will be floating again anytime soon, if ever.***

***The tide this morning was as low as I’ve ever seen it.***

I was pleasantly surprised to see that McCoy’s, which was completely destroyed by the storm, is well on the way to being rebuilt, bigger and better than ever. Saw my manager friend, and they hope to reopen by the end of the month.

***Easter mountain, as seen from Alta Vista at 4.8K***

Not a bad little morning beach stroll. You can Relive it here if you like:

I’ll grab a nap, then get ready to Hash. That’s the way I roll.

No money, no honey

Posted on 13/November/2022 by John McCrarey

After my free-spending ways on Friday night, I noted the depletion of funds would potentially impact my Saturday night plans. So, in the tradition of “killing two birds with one stone,” I altered my standard walk plans and headed for the BPI ATM in Subic-town.

I hadn’t been this way since the big storm, but I came across this reminder of why I lost electricity for two days a couple of weeks ago. When the tree went down, it took the powerlines with it. Why it took so long to repair the damage is a whole other matter.

Since it was a boring highway walk, I reverted to the take a photo after every 1.6 kilometers. This bar is only 1.6K from my front door. I’ve been there zero times. Nothing else around it, and I don’t want to go into a Filipino bar unaccompanied.

***4.8K, and this big girl tried to whisper sweet nothings in my ear.***

***Show me the money! After a successful withdrawal, I turned around and headed back down (up?) the highway.***

***I went out of sequence for this scenic river shot.***

***8K found me at the market street in Calapcuan.***

***9.6K chimed right in front of this trike stand. So I took one the rest of the way home. Hey, the ball on my right foot was hurting.***

Feel free to Relive the adventure here:

My Saturday night plans included helping Daddy Dave celebrate his 80th birthday at Green Room and Wet Spot bars. I had some time to kill until the event kicked off, so I cooled my heels at It Doesn’t Matter. The waitress who done me wrong there was working and tearfully apologized again. I’ve long ago accepted her apology and bear her no ill will. I’m still not gonna buy her lady drinks again, though.

A couple of beers later and I was ready to go check out the newest place in town: Hops & Brews. Turns out it’s a very nice place; you can read my review here.

Next stop, The Green Room. Dave hadn’t arrived yet, but I entertained myself in the usual way–more beers, some lady drinks for my waitress (Marissa), and a chair massage from one of the GROs. When the birthday boy arrived, he joined us at my table for more drinks and chat.

Dave is by far the most interesting person I’ve met in the Philippines. He’s a long-time resident (well over twenty years) and businessman. The stories he can tell about his life adventures are always amazing. Retired from a career in medicine, he maintains residences in the Netherlands and Manila (and Barretto, of course), and he’s always on the go. Dave’s off to his Ohio hometown this week. I told him last night I’m looking forward to him attending my 80th celebration in thirteen years.

Well, I made it to ten o’clock last night again. That’s twice in a row now!

***I can’t remember if I posted this before.***

Another beautiful morning in paradise. You can see what the construction has done to my view so far, but it appears this is as high as it is going to go, so I can still see the water. It doesn’t matter, my move to the blue house is still in the works, and I’m really excited about the change of scenery. Just a few more months.

I saw a couple of memes that made me think of regular reader/commenter Kevin Kim. And if you aren’t checking out his blog on a regular basis, you should be.

***It’s all Greek to me, but Kevin’s a foodie who speaks French, so he’ll get it, I’m sure***.

Kevin is constantly experimenting in the kitchen; his latest adventures have been in the meatless meat realm. This is where I stand on that particular food genre:

Speaking of food, I’ll be doing my regular Sunday feeding at Hideaway Bar tonight. I’ve baked up some chocolate cupcakes, and I’ll be going by John’s place to pick up some bulgogi and Korean-style chicken wings for the girls. I also promised the Snackbar crew I’d pay them a visit tonight.

Looks like my plate is full once again. I was tired yesterday, and I’m tired today. Guess that makes me retired. (sorry)

More to come; stick around.

Bars of Barretto: Hops & Brews

Posted on 13/November/2022 by John McCrarey

***The newest place in town opened last week.***

Hops & Brews is located on Del Pilar Street in the building that formerly housed Sit-n-Bull. There has been a complete renovation turning that space into something quite unique, with inside and outside bars and seating.

When I first entered, I started to sit down at this bar and order a beer. The bartender said most people prefer the beer garden out back. I told her I’d check it out.

So, I headed out back and took a seat at the bar in the beer garden.

I was quite surprised to be greeted by name by several of the waitresses, both as “sir John” and my nickname “Gwapo.” Of course, I didn’t have a clue where I’d seen them before, but I suppose it’s easy to be famous in a small town.

***The other side features a stage where live bands will occasionally perform. (I’m not clear on the schedule as of yet)***

The manager greeted me, again by name, and asked if I remembered him from Bar Barretto. I lied and said, “of course.” I mean, his face was familiar, but I’d only been to Bar Barretto twice, so the recollection was fuzzy. The bar doesn’t stock San Mig Zero, so I was drinking San Miguel Light. The manager pointed out they had a craft beer on tap (Crazy Carabao) and a draft beer called Sapporo that I might like. Then he brought me a mug on the house. It was good.

***I ordered a second Sapporo when I finished the freebie.***

The cook popped out of the kitchen behind the bar, and I recognized him as the former chef at Kamto, so I knew the food here would be good. I asked to see a menu and noted that they feature a variety of dishes at fair prices. I ordered the chicken quesadillas.

When I was done eating, a female cook came and asked me how my meal was, and I told her it was good. I don’t know if that is going to be a standard procedure or if it is just soliciting feedback for a new operation, but it was nice to see they had an interest in customer satisfaction.

The owner introduced himself and asked how I liked my beer, suggesting I might want to try the craft brew. I told him I appreciate a good beer, but I drink Zero to avoid carbs and calories. He laughed, rubbed his beer belly, and said, “I know. I own the gym across the street, and look at me!”

***Lots of waitresses, but only for providing service–no bargirl interactions or lady drinks.*** ***I saw a family with kids enjoying food and beverages at the back of the beer garden. Again, as much (or more) a restaurant as a bar***.

Before I visited, I asked a friend if he’d been there yet. He said, “no, it’s too expensive. All the food dishes are around 500 pesos.” Well, that’s not true. My quesadillas were 260. Some of the entrees were 500 (or more), but the majority of the food was cheaper than that. My draft beer was 100 pesos, and the bottles were 110; that’s at the higher tier of beer prices in Barretto but not unreasonable for the upscale ambiance.

So, first impressions of Hops & Brews: Very friendly staff. Beautiful venue, inside and out. Good food. In fact, the place has much more of a restaurant vibe to me than a typical bar that serves food. It was quite comfortable sitting outside, eating and drinking, and I’m sure I’ll return for a second dose soon.

Off to a good start; keep it up!

The current rankings (I still have two other newer bars to review):

It Doesn’t Matter
Hideaway
Snackbar
The Green Room
Wet Spot
Cheap Charlies
John’s Sushi and Steak
Mango’s Beach Bar
Brews & Hops
Bar Barretto
Whiskey Girl
Alley Cats
Lux
Dynamite Dick’s
Mugshots
Alaska Club
Hot Zone
Queen Victoria
Blue Butterfly
Adam’s
Thumbstar
Voodoo
Rock Lobster
Outback
Rosie’s
Annex
Bottoms Up
Palm Tree
BarCelona
MacArthur’s
Redz Pub
Chill

Long one

Posted on 12/November/2022 by John McCrarey

A fun-filled day here in my little town. I pushed my tired old body to the limit and lived to tell about it. So, let’s get to it.

A small turnout for the Friday walking group, but we motivated ourselves for a longish (by my standards) 10K valley walk out past Naugsol. Mostly flat but wet in places forcing us to do walk-around detours.

***Get our feet wet or detour? We opted to turn around.***

***A couple of places along the way were overgrown.***

***I hate bridges like this. They sway just enough to make you feel off-balance, and knowing one false step can lead to disaster is gut-wrenching. At least for me with my fear of heights.***

***But we all made it across without incident.***

***Bridge #2 is much more to my liking.***

***The path we walked. I finished at Sit-n-Bull and rewarded my efforts with a pulled pork sandwich***.

You can Relive the hike here if that suits your interest.

An after-hike nap, shower, and blog post, then it was time to head out for my Friday night.

When I left the house, I was surprised to see a rainbow over the neighborhood. I wasn’t aware it had even rained.

***Not particularly bright, but still lovely.***

***I didn’t have time to check for the gold pot, though.***

The SOB competition starts at 6 p.m., and doors normally open at 5:00. This week’s event was at the Green Room, a bar that opens at 4:00. So I knew that an early arrival was going to be necessary in order to ensure getting a front row seat. I left the house a little before four but had to make a detour to see Joy at Hideaway, who needed some financial assistance. I had a quick beer there, then made my way back down the highway to the Green Room.

It was good that I made the decision to arrive early. I got my coveted table up front, but folks who came at 5:00 or later were relegated to less desirable seating. In fact, for the first time since the scamdemic, people were turned away at the door as the bar had reached maximum capacity.

Here’s what SOB host and bar owner (and occasionally one of my readers) Dave posted about the event:

A bit of background. Sons of Bacchus (SOB) is in it’s 20th year. We started in 2002 in Angeles City and migrated to Barrio Barretto, Olongapo, Philippines. Originally Dionysus was the Greek god of fertility. Later, he came to be known chiefly as the god of wine and pleasure. Bacchus is his Italian name.

Each week we rotate between 7 of the best bars in town. The 2 hour event features: All you can drink, two rounds of free food from Sit n Bull, a dance contest between the bars.

Here are a few pictures from last night’s event (also courtesy of the host):

***Alaska Club*** ***(the girl on the far right is Joy, a real sweetie who sat with me for some drinks before and after the competition)***

***Voodoo*** ***was last night’s champion***

Now, arriving early comes at a cost. Until 6:00, you pay for your own beers. Not to mention the lady drinks you provide also come out of your pocket all night long. I had two thirsty gals at my table, but no big deal; that’s why I always bring a little extra cash on Friday night. The real cost for me is imbibing more than usual and getting close to crossing the line between feeling good and being drunk. The Aftermath event was next door at Wet Spot, so I also attended that. My bedtime expanded somewhat in Cambodia, and that seems to have carried over with my return. It was after 11:00 when I hit the sheets last night.

*I don’t usually* ***drink shots, but a certain bar owner provided this one last night. It would have been rude to decline, right? It was tasty and*** ***my last drink of the night, so no harm, no foul. Thanks again, Dave!***

And I woke up to another beautiful morning.

A long day, a long hike, and a long night at the bar. Might as well enjoy it all while you can. We’ll see what happens next.

Oh, I almost forgot. I came across this old song from when the Navy was here. Wanted to share it with y’all:

Ballad Of Subic Bay

I joined the Navy for sixteen years,
sailing the seas that brought me here.
For sixteen years I'm running loose,
for sixteen years, I'm a Seaman deuce. 

Horny sailors, all are we
for we must sail the seven seas.
One thousand miles we steamed today
to see our girls in Subic Bay. 

Silver dollar on my girl's breast, 
she's gone short time with Americas best.
One hundred men she laid today,
but only three in a normal way. 

Take me back to my old joint,
my ship is anchored in Cubi Point.
And that girl I use to lay,
she's now the mayor of Subic Bay. 

Silver dollar on my girl's breast,
an overnight, she does her best.
Of all the men that she's been with,
I'm the only one who caught that syph. 

I joined the Navy; I don't like it.
Sailing the seas that brought me here.
And every time I sail away,
I long again for Subic Bay. 

I long again for Subic Bay

Long Time Gone

Monthly Archives: November 2022