Other than the dog walk, I never left the house yesterday. I woke once more to low blood oxygen, and that set the tone for a day of listlessness. Same thing this morning. I hate feeling this way, and I’m hopeful my pulmonary doctor visit today will put me back on the road to normalcy.

We had already made plans for a rooftop gathering with the neighbors, and we spent the afternoon preparing for the arrival of our guests. My part in that endeavor was making a batch of chili con carne, some cornbread muffins, and brownies. The gals made kebabs and pancit. The fun began shortly before 5 p.m. and continued on until the beer ran out around 11:00. Yes, you read that right–I stayed up well past my normal bedtime. We were all a little drunk at the end, but it was a good time.

I sang my usual standards, Words by the Bee Gees, Patsy Cline’s Crazy, and Marty Robbin’s country-western classic El Paso. What can I say, I’m a 1960s kinda guy.

It turned out to be a good time. We will be reconvening on Friday at neighbor Martin’s house. We all agreed that getting together here on our street was more fun than hanging out in the bars. Easier to get home, too!

Today’s Quora Q&A:

Q: If you have retired from your career, are you glad you retired or are you miserable and feel like you don’t have anything to do?

A: Not miserable, no regrets. When it is time, it is time. Didn’t want to be one of those guys who die at their desk. You just let go of the old life and start a new one. Now, I do whatever I want whenever I want. If I’m bored, that’s my fault.

A couple of Star Trek memes I liked enough to share:

I’ll share the news from the doctor’s visit here tomorrow. I am hoping for some positive options; I’ve been getting worse, not better.

Well, maybe a giggle. But a yard-long Snickers?

That was the most exciting thing that happened on my weekly shopping excursion to Royal.

Later, Swan and I walked to Baloy and hung out on the Kokomo floating bar for a bit.

I’ll leave it at that for now. The neighbors are gathering at The Rite Spot this evening. Chili is brewing in the crockpot. We’ll also be celebrating my helper Inday’s 30th birthday.

The Quora answer I shared yesterday was from a couple of years ago. Somehow, I forgot back then that there were twelve inches in a foot. That answer had over two thousand views, and no one mentioned my mistaken ways. When I posted it here, I still managed to overlook the fact that my answer was embarrassingly wrong. My commenters set me straight on that right away, and I thank you all for that. Of course, the icing on the cake of stupidity was my linking to a webpage about erroneous usage of apostrophes while making the exact same error it was referring to in the paragraph above. Is this my Karma for mocking Biden?

Okay, let’s try the Quora Q&A again and see if I get it right this time:

Q: What is the right time to call HR?

A: During business hours.

As a retired human resources professional, I am confident I am correct on this issue and stand firmly behind my answer.

The joke is not always on me, so here are today’s offerings:

I skipped the hike today. Here’s hoping I feel better about things tomorrow.

Sunday is the day I join Swan for her candy walk. We did a tad over 7K yesterday before the goodies ran out. Counting my blessings that I’m still able to walk that far, although I do get more tuckered out along the way than I used to. I still have trouble with any elevation gain; even the neighborhood dog walk has me huffing and puffing, and that’s distressing. I’m hopeful that I’m experiencing a temporary respiratory infection that will resolve soon rather than a permanent exacerbation of my COPD. I will try and get in to see a pulmonary doctor this week for advice on the next steps.

I’m still fully functioning in the nighttime portion of my life, so there’s that. I did the Hideaway feeding, then spent some time on the Arizona floating bar. For our nightcap, Swan and I enjoyed a visit to The Rite Spot On The Roof. I’m fully in the mode of making the best of what I have while I still have it. No, I don’t mean to come off as feeling morbid, but the reality is that the older I get, the more I feel the looming specter of mortality. My goal is to top the 83 years my father achieved. That would give me fifteen more years to play with. Still, everything can change in a heartbeat (or lack thereof), so I appreciate the daily blessings, even if they are repetitive and mundane.

Anyway, I don’t dwell on this kind of thinking, and I’m a little surprised I regurgitated those words above. While on the floating bar waiting for Swan to arrive and taking in the views, I appreciated all the simple blessings that fill my life. As I admired the awesomeness of the Kalaklan Ridge, I recalled the many times I’ve hiked to the top and taken in those amazing views from on high. Perhaps my climbing days will come to an end, but the memories will not. As I sat on the floater, cold beer in hand, watching the beachgoers, jet skis, and boaters enjoying the late afternoon beauty surrounding us, I realized once again that despite the imperfections of life, I am a lucky man.

Some R&R at home, the Swan headed out to run some errands, and I made my way to Hideaway for the Sunday feeding.

Next up, the Arizona floating bar, conveniently located a block from Hideaway.

We walked down the highway a bit without a clear destination in mind, and then a trike driver pulled up and offered us a lift to the Rite Spot. Off we went, and soon we were up and at ’em.

And that’s how my Sunday went down. Now it is Hash Monday and I’ve got some deciding to do. The trail starts at Barretto High School on Rizal Extension. I can walk to the highway and catch a trike, or I can go the back way on the My Bitch trail. I already have a shortcut for the actual trail in mind, but even that will require a hill climb. The way I’ve been feeling that may be one hill too many. Well, damn, I think I will walk to the start and see how I feel. If I’m not up for the up, I’ll do a flat walk to the On-Home at McCoy’s on Baloy Beach. I’ll let you know how that goes tomorrow.

It could always be worse, I could be this guy:

Facebook memories carried me back to 1988 during my tenure as the Acting Director, Human Resources, for the Postal Service in Roanoke, Virginia:

And then there is this from six years ago–my last winter in Korea:

The dreaded Quora Q&A (don’t worry, I’m running out of questions I answered there):

Q: When a thrown dart gets caught in the flight or shaft of the preceding dart thrown, is it null, or does it qualify for the same score?

A: If the point of the dart is not touching the board, it does not score.

Now you know.

How about this:

And now we’ve reached the end of another post. Thank you for your patience.

Sometimes, you just have to make concessions to reality. Despite a brutal night before, I attempted to participate in the Friday group hike. I knew there was going to be one climb, but I figured I’d give it a shot, and in the worst-case scenario, I’d just retreat and go back the way I came. Well, at the 2K mark, just before the hill began, I gave up. Even the flat hike had left me feeling weak. I knew then that trying to go onward and upward was a fool’s mission. After saying my goodbyes to the group, I intended to continue walking towards home. And then an empty trike approached, and I called it a day. Maybe I should have titled this post wussed out.

A lazy afternoon at home, and then it was time to embark on another mission–a visit to McCoy’s on Baloy Beach. McCoy’s is not a regular stop in my bar life, but it will be the On-Home venue for Monday’s Hash. And since I recommended it to the Hash, I wanted to make sure the McCoy crew was adequately prepared for our upcoming invasion. They have already purchased the beer; I hope they have a way to keep it cold. I also suggested they pick four or five items from the menu that are quick and easy to prepare and call them “Hash specials.” I worry their one-man kitchen might be overwhelmed by 30+ hungry Hashers. Anyway, I’m hoping for the best.

I got a kick out of this gal’s hat:

One of the decisions I made when I first moved here was to avoid driving. It was the right call, as I am reminded daily while walking the roads. On the occasions I ride with my driver, I sometimes get road rage as a passenger. And yes, he does some crazy shit too. I’ve seen bad drivers, but the Filipinos I encounter are the least skilled I’ve ever observed.

I think I’ve posted these here before, but Facebook memories took me back to my high school daze today:

My writing was not confined to newsprint. I fancied myself a poet as well.

Growing old gets more bizarre the older I get.

Today’s Quora Q&A:

Q: When I retire, should I move to Thailand where the murder rate is lower by 60% than America, housing price lower by 80%, meals 90% and rental 85%?

A: Go for a visit and get a feel for the place. I enjoyed my stay there, but in the end, I decided to retire in the Philippines. Both countries have large expat communities, so you won’t have to feel like an outsider. I also enjoyed my time visiting Cambodia and Vietnam. There are lots of options.

Today’s lame attempts at humor:

Alright, I deem you to have suffered enough for one day. Come back tomorrow for more punishment!

It’s probably not the kind of temptation you are thinking about, but I’ll get to that later. The day started with a solo street stroll, and so will this post.

Along the way, I saw the typical scenes:

That’s all I found worthy of photographing during my walk. I was also feeling weak and weary on a relatively short and flat stroll. Worrisome, indeed.

Nothing much else took place back at the house until the time arrived to journey back into town for some liquid refreshment in the form of San Miguel Zeros. Swan went for a massage, and we met up later.

My first stop was Sloppy Joe’s. It was a pretty decent crowd, but I found a decent seat. There was a group of several young Filipinas playing pool in the back, and I’ve never seen, or should I say, heard, anything like it. After every shot, they’d scream out these high-pitched squeals at the top of their voice. Even from a distance, it was painful. And it was unrelenting. In the time it took to finish my beer, I had a throbbing headache. Why they were permitted to continue yelling like that is beyond me, but I, for one, couldn’t wait to get the hell out of there.

It occurred to me that I hadn’t visited the bar two floors above me, BarCelona, in quite some time, so I headed up the stairs. I was surprised to see this sign posted near the front door:

You can see my BarCelona review from a couple of years ago here. It is one of the nicer bars in town, ambiance-wise. I’ve always wondered why it isn’t more popular. As I sat there toying with the fantasy of owning a place like this, it occurred to me that to be successful; I’d need to resolve the mystery of why I like the bar and still don’t frequent it often. Then I’d need to fix that. I did talk to a couple of folks, and they attributed it to old expats not wanting to climb all those stairs (39 steps, I’ve been told). Hmm, it’s got to be more than that–Cheap Charlies has a similar ascent and gets a good crowd.

Anyway, I heard the owner is asking for 3.5 million pesos (around $62,000). Rent is said to be 30,000 ($600) a month. I honestly think someone could make a go of this place–you just need to find a way to entice customers up those stairs. I’d probably do that with some special drink pricing and maybe an outdoor barbeque setup on the terrace with some tasty meat selections. And my famous chili and cornbread, of course. Alright, you heard it here first. The new owner of BarCelona is NOT going to be me. The fantasy of owning a cool bar is much nicer than the reality. I’m not going to spend my golden years with all those hassles. Besides, I already have The Rite Spot On The Roof.

After BarCelona, we did our nightcap at Wet Spot. I had a nice chat with owner Daddy Dave and some of the other guys at the backslapper’s table. Meanwhile, Swan was buying drinks for Aine, so I guess everyone was happy.

We got home with enough stamina to enjoy the first “Blue Eye Samurai” episode. So far, so good. I’m not typically interested in animation series, even adult-oriented ones. But this review convinced me to give it a shot. I don’t think I’m going to be disappointed.

Alas, the night did not end well. I woke up again with that queasy feeling that comes from a lack of oxygen, and my oximeter confirmed it with a reading of 87. I sucked down some air from my tank and eventually got back to sleep. I had to abort my hike with the Friday group and really haven’t felt so good all day. I guess I’m beginning to sound like a broken record. We’ll see what happens next.

Today’s Quora Q&A:

Q: A retired US friend has left the country and relocated to Panama because she’s getting more bang for her buck there. What are other places around the globe where there’s a large population of retired Americans living comfortably on a fixed income?

A: I am living comfortably on my pension here in the Philippines. I’m surrounded by many other Americans, Aussies, Brits, etc living well on a fixed income.

Your daily dose of humor:

Until we meet again.

My Tuesday started out normal enough but had a surprise ending. I’ll get to that, but let’s take things from the beginning. It was shopping day, and I had my driver detour to the Pure Gold supermarket. I do this every couple of months, hoping to find things I want or need that Royal doesn’t stock. Not much luck with that yesterday, but I did get this:

The Pure Gold is near the old Royal store, so we went there next. Again, sometimes the old Royal has items in stock you can’t find at the new Royal where I normally shop.

Home again with the week’s groceries, a nap and a blog post, then it was time for my weekly excursion to Baloy Beach to visit the Kokomo floating bar. I baked a batch of brownies before departing to share with the girls. Swan joined me for the adventure.

I used to play darts for the Lagoon team but rarely ordered food there. I was pleasantly surprised it was so good.

After dinner, we caught a trike home, and I went to bed early. I woke up a little before midnight feeling a bit off somehow, so I got up to nebulize. I also checked my blood oxygen on my oximeter and was shocked to see this reading:

Of course, I didn’t even consider wasting my time at the hospital. Instead, I fired up my oxygen tank and self-medicated with inhaled air. That brought me up into the mid-90s. I went back to bed but had to get up again later to ingest more air. A rough night indeed!

I had some doubts and concerns about participating in today’s group hike, but since we were planning on a relatively flat hike from Naugsol back to Barretto, I decided to give it a try. I’ll save the story of how that worked out for me until tomorrow. I’m leaning toward just staying home tonight and treating myself like the old man I’m rapidly becoming. Better old than dead, I suppose.

Today’s Quora Q&A:

Q: What is the quickest way for a male high school graduate with little cash and no car to move out?

A: Join the military.

My daily try at humor:

Here’s hoping for a breath of fresh air.

Yesterday turned out to be as full as Saturday had been empty. So, I guess you could say I had a balanced weekend. I kicked things off with Swan on a candy walk. Later, I fed the girls at Hideaway (they are down to four now; I wonder how much longer they’ll be open). My Sunday routine of late has been to visit the Arizona floating bar, but yesterday was the 30th Annual VFW Beach Bash beauty pageant, being held this year at the Outback Resort. I was on the fence about attending, but in the end, I decided I should show support for the local veteran’s organization.

The Outback beach area was packed when I arrived, but I still managed to secure three decent seats (Swan and Inday) were meeting me there) and settled in to enjoy the upcoming show. Then, I got drafted to be a judge. I had mixed feelings about doing so because it precluded me from bailing if I got bored or drunk and wanted to go home. Still, it was hard to say no when asked to help out, so I moved to the judge’s table. The contest started a little later than scheduled, and there was a snafu with the music during the talent competition that delayed things for almost thirty minutes. By the time it was all said and done, it was after nine, and I was bushed. But damn, a couple of those gals were smokin’ hot, especially in their bikinis.

Here are some photos from my day:

Found one!

A man went to the doctor’s office to get a double dose of Viagra.

The doctor told him that he couldn’t allow him a double dose.

“Why not?” asked the man.

“Because it’s not safe,” replied the doctor.

“But I need it really bad,” said the man.

“Well, why do you need it so badly?” asked the doctor.

The man said, “My girlfriend is coming into town on Friday; my ex-wife will be here on Saturday; and my wife is coming home on Sunday. Can’t you see? I must have a double dose.”

The doctor finally relented saying, “Okay, I’ll give it to you, but you have to come in on Monday morning so that I can check you to see if there are any side effects.”

On Monday, the man dragged himself in; his arm in a sling.

The doctor asked, “What happened to you?”

The man said, “No one showed up.”

Sorry!

When it came time for the Hideaway feeding, I marched over to Jewel Cafe and picked up two orders of garlic prawns, two orders of pork sisig, and five chicken wings. Popped into Dunkin’ Donuts for dessert, then crossed the highway to the alley where Hideaway Bar is hidden away.

With my Hideaway business complete, I headed across town to the Outback.

Number #3 was the well-deserved overall winner. It was quite the eventful day by my low standards.

Today’s Hash once again begins at the end of Rizal Extension. I’m going to hike the My Bitch trail to get there and then assess how I feel about climbing any additional hills. If need be, I’ll find a flat route to walk to the On-Home at Johansson’s from there. I’ll let you know how that works out for me tomorrow.

Today’s Quora Q&A brought back a long-ago memory:

Q: Did you ever have a funny in-person experience with a Hollywood movie star? How so?

A: It was sometime in 1979 or so, back when I was residing in the lovely city of Prescott, Arizona. My wife from that era was working at a local dining establishment, and I came in and sat at the bar while I waited for her shift to end. I hadn’t really noticed the gentleman sitting on the barstool next to me until some female patrons approached and asked him for an autograph. After he obliged, I guess he noticed me looking at him, trying to figure out who in the fuck he was. He smiled, offered his hand, and introduced himself as “Jan.” To be honest, the name didn’t ring a bell, but the face was somewhat familiar.

Anyway, we began to chat. He was in town attending some sessions at a nearby gun school. I don’t recall if he said this was preparation for a movie role or if he just liked guns. As we talked periodically, someone would recognize him and come up to meet him. He was always gracious, but I could tell he found it somewhat irksome. About this time, my wife appeared, and judging by her giddiness, I guess she recognized him, too. As we were preparing to leave, I asked if he’d like to join us. I was mostly just being polite, so I was a little taken aback when he said, “I sure would!” I don’t recall now where we intended to actually go, but it was likely one of the dives we liked on Whiskey Row.

As it turns out, we didn’t make it far. Once we got into my vehicle (an older but rugged Toyota LandCruiser), Jan asked if we’d like to smoke a joint before we left. I was a big pot smoker back in those days, so naturally, I answered in the affirmative. Damn, it was some good shit. In fact, it may have been laced with something because I got really wasted real quick. And then he pulled out a tin of cocaine! I did a snort or two of that, and the next thing I remember, I was leaning out the car door, puking my guts out.

I’m pretty sure Jan found my lightweight antics equally disturbing and disgusting. Suffice to say he changed his mind about joining us, quickly said his goodbyes, and left.

And so ended my chance encounter with the B-list celebrity Jan-Michael Vincent.

Once again I came across a joke I often tell in a comic format. More evidence that my humor is as old as I am:

I liked this one for some reason, too:

Okay, it’s time to get ready to roll on out to the Hash.

It has been said that today is the tomorrow you worried about yesterday. I sometimes worry about how many tomorrows I have left, but otherwise, I pretty much take each day as it comes and make the best of it. Like yesterday, for instance:

Nobody showed up for the Friday group hike, but Swan joined me for a walkabout on the Subic side of the bridge.

We did our 6K and headed back home. We’d invited the neighbors on both sides of us for some rooftop fun, so we had some preparation to do. I made a crockpot full of meatballs and baked a carrot-raisin cake. We loaded up the ice chest with beer and wine and waited for our guests to arrive.

Jeff brought his Karaoke machine, and shortly thereafter, the singing commenced.

Good times. Jeff is having a gathering at his place tonight that I plan to attend. I hope the bars don’t go out of business without me!

The Quora Q&A:

Q: Do retired postal workers get a pension?

A: Yes, they do. The same pension as other federal government employees earn.

Today’s memes:

Boring day so far, but I’ll worry about that tomorrow.

As days go, yesterday was a pretty good one. Nothing really special about it, but I enjoyed being around to participate in my usual routines. Started things off we a boring 6K Solo Sunday Street Stroll through Barretto. Come along and I’ll show you just how boring it was:

I brought home a delicious club sandwich to share with Swan for brunch.

Swan went out with some friends, and we agreed to meet up at the Arizona floating later in the afternoon. In the meantime, I took care of the Hideaway feeding.

I had more beer than usual, mainly because three were free, and I was repaying the generosity with lady drinks, so I guess it was a win-win for all involved. When it was time to meet Swan, I took the back alley to the beach, maybe a hundred yards away.

When the time came to depart, Swan’s friends headed home, and we walked to Wet Spot for our nightcap. Sat at owner Daddy Dave’s table and had a nice chat. A couple of beers later, it was time to squeeze into the trike for the ride home. And yes, there was no dessert.

Turned on the next to last episode of “Shameless” but passed out fell asleep on the couch before it was over. I’ll have to rewind and see what I missed, then complete my journey later tonight.

I am hopeful that today’s Hash doesn’t leave me breathless, but I’m going to do my best to tackle the trail. I’ll let you know how that goes tomorrow.

Today’s Quora Q&A:

Q: What did your mother or father say to you when you were young that you remembered your whole life?

A: I distinctly remember my father saying in response to a question beginning with “if”…If your aunt had balls she’d be your uncle.” I guess he was ahead of his time.

Today’s offerings of humor:

Wish me luck.

Not the best of days yesterday. As I mentioned, I had to bail on the Friday group hike when I experienced some breathing issues early on. Before I even got back home I regretted wimping out. I let those voices in my head saying cowardly shit convince me that prudence was dictated. Looking back, if I had forced myself to press on, I likely would have been fine once the relatively easy climb was completed. Sometimes you just have to push yourself a little harder when the going gets rough. And honestly, in the worst-case scenario, I’d rather die doing what I enjoy than to succumb to laziness at home.

I honestly believe my best option in the future will be to walk through bouts like the one I had yesterday. How does that saying go? “What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.” Or maybe, “live and learn.” One of those.

I’m moving forward with trying to maintain a healthier diet. Yesterday, I consumed some bacon and sausage for breakfast, some celery sticks for lunch, a hamburger patty for dinner, and one chicken finger at the SOB. Several San Mig Zeros were my only indulgence. Yes, I missed my post-drinking sweets while watching “Shameless,” but I resisted the urge. (It helped that I gave away the cartons of ice cream in the freezer to my basement dwellers)

When beer o’clock rolled around, I debated whether I should just stay home, but in the end, Friday night and the SOB overcame my resistance. Queen Victoria was the venue, and it had been several months since my last visit to this particular bar. I was the first to arrive and got a comfortable seat with a nice view. Swan joined me a little later, and we enjoyed the show together.

When the show was over at eight, Swan asked where I wanted to go next and I responded, “home.” And that’s just what we did. A little TV and then a good night’s sleep.

We did a 7K candy walk this morning that went well, although I was pretty tired when we finished. I’m just going to keep plugging away for as long as I can.

Today’s Quora Q&A features a weirdly worded question that for some reason I chose to answer anyway.

Q: How is Hoover’s Dam people? Do “the AMERICANS” out there truly appreciate the greatness of a “Hoover Dam?” And why did they name a dam after a Dead President? They never talked about a Dam during school hours. Even at a Private Catholic Elite School.

A: It was originally named Boulder Dam. It was renamed to honor Hoover who was instrumental in using federal resources for the dam’s construction. It is an amazing piece of work.

A ballsy funny:

Alright, let’s see what Saturday night holds in store. Back tomorrow to let you know.