And it wasn’t much. But better than nothing. And as a special reward for my reader(s), today’s post will be brief. You are welcome!
Neighbors Joss and Martin joined us for the Candy Walk.Some new and impressive artwork on the wall.And a sad dog we saw drinking from the dirty street puddle.That rice isn’t going to plant itself. As I passed, one of the workers invited me to join them. I responded, maybe next time.I fear this puppy may not be long for this world.But there were some moments of beauty to savor.
When beer o’clock arrived, there still wasn’t much worthy of note taking place. We started out at Sloppy Joe’s and took our usual street-side seats. The big screen TVs were blaring Australian Footy, which I find distracting, but there was a big group inside watching, so that’s what a sports bar strives for. There’s a beer distribution shop across the street, and they stack their cases of empty bottles on the sidewalk. This homeless dude was looking through the bottles for any that still had some beer left inside, and then he’d drink it. One of the more gross things I’ve witnessed recently. Swan said she was craving some chicken wings, so we shared an order. They were quite tasty. After we finished eating, we went next door to Green Room for our nightcap.
The highlight was watching this stranger playing pool.
Waitress Chu said he was a first-time visitor. When we arrived, he was playing by himself, and instead of the usual eight-ball game, he was playing nine-ball. I’d heard of it, but never actually seen it before. Damn, this guy was shooting at a pro level that was quite impressive. He eventually started playing against some of the bargirls, and they were out of their league. I found the massacre somehow entertaining. But all good things must come to an end, and when eight o’clock chimed, we headed for home.
Don’t say I didn’t warn you. It really wasn’t as bad as it seemed, at least by my low standards.
In the LTG archives from August 2012 is a post about my Uncle Bud (my father’s brother), who served as ball turret gunner on a B-17 bomber during World War II. That proved to be my final visit with Bud, who passed away a few years later, well into his nineties. Yep, more of those long-lasting McCrarey genes.
Today’s YouTube video is from a vlogger I don’t particularly care for, Philly in the Phillpines, but I was enticed to watch because he’s posting from Siargao island’s city of General Luna, a place I’ve never been but will be visiting in November. I’ll be staying at a beach resort, so I won’t have to worry about parking.
And we will end this post with a smile:
That had me in stitches. Not.It takes courage to be so heartless.It must be hard to be a dick.
Okay, I’m in the midst of my Sunday routines. So, I don’t expect much new or exciting, but the venues will be different, and I’m thankful for the opportunity to be out and about.
Back to my old routines for the first time since the sixties. Everything old feels new again!
I’m lovin’ the 70s so far!
It being Friday and all, we kicked things off with the group hike.
One of the largest turnouts in quite some time.
Wanting to keep things simple, I decided to lead the group on the reverse of Monday’s Hash trail since only Swan and Sheryl had done that trail. I did elect to go up a different way, and that proved harder than I expected. Otherwise, it was a mostly pleasant stroll on the My Bitch trail. When we reached the other side and were ready for our descent, I didn’t want to go down the way we had climbed on Monday, as I wanted to avoid descending through that flowing creek bed. Alas, someone had built a fence blocking the only other path down that I know of. So, the creek it was, although it didn’t turn out as bad as I thought it would be.
Through the ‘hood we go.Our climb began with some slippery steps. That’s not envy they are green with.Regrouping after the hardest part of the climb to verify that everyone survived.A Barretto view was our reward.There’s that mountain again.Clouds over the bay. Just a few sprinkles on our hike.The nice part of The Bitch.A quick hello to mountain mama Onelia.The beginning of the unpleasant down.An interesting flower I saw along the way.Heading back up to Alta Vista.The end of the trail.I’m sure the My Bitch map is looking familiar to everyone by now.
And then it was time to make a plan for the Friday evening out. Once again, we opted not to invest our time in the SOB dance competition. Apparently, I’m not the only one who feels it is no longer worth it. I read today that the show was cancelled when only one paying customer showed up. I expect we’ve seen the last of the SOB, absent some significant changes; however, these days, no one is even bothered with promoting the event. Sad to see it go, but it ain’t what it once was.
Swan wanted to kick off things with dinner at Jewel Cafe. Who am I to argue with that? When the waitress came to take my order, she said, “Filet mignon, medium, gravy on the side, with mashed potatoes, veggies, and a San Mig Zero.” I’m nothing if not predictable. Swan had baby back ribs.
Good things come in small portions at Jewel. That’s a $10.50 meal and worth it.Not a lot of ribs on that plate either. I had a bite and they were tasty too.
Swan had an old friend visiting town and asked if we could meet up with a group at Annex Bar. Fine by me, the beer is cold there. I sat at a table with the highway view up front while Swan and the girls gathered inside.
And another one bites the dust. That used to be Voodoo bar, but they’ve painted over all the signage, so it doesn’t look like it is coming back. Still, it seems like for every bar that shuts down in Barretto, two new ones open. Not sure how that works.
After a couple of beers, Swan asked if I wanted to join the group at Jumpin’ Jacks. Sure, why not? First time we have been back since bartender Vangie passed away, but the good music and vibe hasn’t changed. Well, until the girls started singing karaoke.
And they were singing in Tagalog.Someone bought a round of tequila shots, and that helped ease the pain in my ears somewhat.Our group was the only customers, so I took pity on the girls and bought a round of lady drinks. Eleven of them at 170 pesos each. That’s two-week millionaire style, baby!
The next stop for the group was IDM, but I had exceeded my limit, so I declined to go anywhere but home. Swan kindly said goodnight to her friends and came with me.
And that’s how this old man rolled through another day.
Common sense like this isn’t all that common these days. Control the crazies, not the guns.
Nothing worthy of note from the July 2012 LTG archives, but in August, I told the story of my father’s final journey in a post entitled, “To the sea.”
In today’s YouTube video, The Filipina Pea discusses the potential impact of AI in the Philippines. Many people here work in the call centers, and AI may make those jobs obsolete. Oh, and she does the video wearing a bikini.
Maybe these will amuse you:
Little Johnny was in class, diligently working on his math problems when the teacher decided to test him with a question.
“Johnny,” she said, “if there are five birds sitting on a fence and you shoot one with your slingshot, how many are left?”
Johnny thought for a moment and replied,
“None. The rest would fly away after hearing the noise.”
The teacher chuckled, “Well, the correct answer is four… but I like the way you think.”
Johnny grinned. “Thanks, Miss. Mind if I ask you a question now?”
“Go ahead,” she said.
“There are three women eating ice cream cones,” Johnny began. “One is licking her cone, one is biting it, and the third is gently sucking on hers. Which one do you think is married?”
The teacher turned a bit red but decided to play along.
“Um… I guess the one… sucking her cone?”
Johnny shook his head and said with a smirk,
“Nope. It’s the one wearing a wedding ring—but I like the way you think!”
I can’t argue with his logic.
Which came first, the chicken or the egg? It was the rooster that came first.Good to know!
I’m trying hard to stop fretting about the future and just take it one day at a time. That feeling of impending doom hasn’t totally gone away, but for now, I’m still doing the things I enjoy with a woman I love, so what’s to worry about?
Farewell to my caregiver/helper, Teri, who has been taking care of me since I moved to the Philippines in May 2018. Yesterday was her final day in my employ, as she is moving back home to Manila to care for her elderly parents (heh, I wonder if they are younger than me).
Terri arranged for a truck to haul her meager belongings, including a refrigerator I gifted her, down to Manila.She wanted a goodbye photo. Terri was sad about leaving and said she would miss this life, but a daughter’s duty to her parents is paramount in this culture.
She joined us for a final meal at Sit-n-Bull, then caught a Jeepney to Olongapo and a bus ride to Manila.
Goodbye and good luck to you, Terri. Thanks for everything!
Swan and I had some sorrow-drowning drinks at Wet Spot, then headed back home. The replacement housekeeper we anticipated hiring has some medical issues she’s dealing with and is unable to take the job. The search is on, but I’m letting Swan handle that.
Came across this today, and it had me nodding in agreement.I had some close calls over the years myself, but I’m still standing. I grew up watching Bugs Bunny cartoons!
I’ve traveled on to June of 2012 in the LTG archives, and in this post, I talk about my return to the USA after a six-month interval in Korea. I couldn’t help but feel sad seeing the family life I’ve now left behind, but at least both of my kids took a minute to send me happy birthday wishes.
In today’s YouTube video, the vlogger talks about the shit he got from friends in the States when he announced his intention to move to the Philippines. I was called out by my daughter-in-law about my posts here at LTG (back when my lifestyle was admittedly more sordid), and now I’ve been ghosted. It hurts, but people show what you mean to them, so you just accept it and move on. I was there to raise my kids after their mother abandoned us, and I’m proud of my days as a dutiful father, whether they appreciate it or not. Life goes on.
Let’s the cleanse the palate:
When a woman walked into the pharmacy, her strides were purposeful, and her gaze fixed firmly on the pharmacist behind the counter. Without hesitation, she leaned in and said in an even, unwavering voice, “I need to buy some cyanide.”
The pharmacist froze, startled by the blunt request. “Excuse me?” he stammered. “Why would you possibly need cyanide?”
“To poison my husband,” she replied matter-of-factly.
His jaw nearly hit the counter. “What? Are you insane? Ma’am, I can’t just sell you cyanide! That’s illegal! If I did, I’d lose my license, we’d both go to jail—you do realize that, don’t you? Absolutely not! You can’t have any cyanide!”
The woman let out a long, exasperated sigh and reached into her handbag. Wordlessly, she retrieved a photograph and placed it on the counter. The picture clearly showed her husband in bed—with the pharmacist’s wife.
The pharmacist’s face drained of color as he stared at the damning evidence. His mouth opened and closed a few times, but no words came out. Finally, he cleared his throat and pushed the photo back toward her with a newfound air of calm.
“Well,” he said, his tone carefully measured, “you didn’t mention you had a prescription. That’s a different story.”
A revenge fuck might also be in the cards.
Dude, they have machines for that…although now that I think about it, I have never seen a dishwasher here in the PI, not even in the appliance stores.I’d hire this person!
So, yesterday was all about recovering from the turning seventy event and the sad goodbye. Today is all about getting back to normal, so I’d best get back at it. Until then, just remember:
You gotta be who you are in life, everyone else is already taken.
That’s what the 70s are all about. Can you dig it? Far out, that’s groovy!
That said, I partied hardy last night, just like in the olden days (well, except for the weed). I went from four until we shut it down at ten p.m., regular readers will know that’s double my usual performance. Kudos to Swan for her hard work and organizational skills. The official count (I was being charged 200 pesos per guest) was eighty-six in attendance. And damn, my friends put on an Olympic performance in the beer-downing event. Going in, I thought I had bought too much, but I wound up ordering more before the party ended. And all that food? Almost no leftovers. The best part was everyone had a good time, which made this birthday of mine one of the most memorable of my life, and by far the best one I’ve had this year!
If you are wondering where the party was, X marks the spot.The Baybayin bay view.Decorate good times, come on!A table of food offerings. We pigged out on lechon.Neighbors Davina and Jeff were the first guests to arrive.More arrivals.Music was provided by Ber and Remy. Looking in from the beach.The IDM crew joined the fun.Party girls.We had to break out more tables as the evening progressed.My special cake.My special girl.Ericka and Beth joined the fun.Ace and Joy from Hideaway came by after work.The bay at night.
Some birthday gifts:
Swan had this made for me.That’s my life through these seventy years.One of my favorite James Kavanaugh poems, although I couldn’t love her more.The song I want played at my funeral, but I can wait a few more years for that.Neighbors Martin and Joss gifted me these books. I realized how long it has been since I’ve read an actual book. I used to be a voracious reader, mostly of fiction. And I was also gifted a beer card from Alley Hideout. Talk about a gift you can use!
By the time the party ended, none of us were in any condition to pack up our shit and bring it home, so we went back this morning to finish the clean-up business. And that’s life in the 70s so far.
The last post in the LTG archives from May 2012 talks about “Winding it down.” I had adopted the six months in Korea, six months in the USA routine for what I expected to be the rest of my life. It didn’t turn out that way.
Today’s YouTube video is from a vlogger I don’t particularly like, but in this episode, he’s walking the beach near where we had the birthday celebration last night. So, if you want to get a Barretto beach vibe, here you go. When he mentioned it being 8 a.m. this morning, I wondered if I would make an appearance whilst cleaning up our mess at Baybayin. Nope, he didn’t catch me.
How about these:
At least COVID wasn’t calling.I’ll drink to that!It’s the breast time of the day!
I was unsure what to expect turnout-wise yesterday. Swan was thinking fifty or so, so getting into the eighties was surprising. I guess I’m better liked than I thought. Or free beer is—one of those.
I spent most of the seventies rockin’ with Neil Young, so here we go again:
“Age has no reality except in the physical world. The essence of a human being is resistant to the passage of time. Our inner lives are eternal, which is to say that our spirits remain as youthful and vigorous as when we were in full bloom. Think of love as a state of grace, not the means to anything, but the alpha and omega. An end in itself.”
― Gabriel García Márquez, Love in the Time of Chole
So, I made it to seventy; let’s see how far I can go. I’m feeling good (this morning’s BP was 120/68), and I’m still enjoying beer life, so I’m optimistic about the future, unknown though it may be. Only way to find out is to live it while you got it, and that’s my plan. Thanks for coming along for the ride here at LTG.
Party prep is in full swing around here this morning. The kitchen is full of Swan’s family members preparing a smorgasbord of dining options, and Swan is at the party venue decorating. I hope the turnout this afternoon (we start at 4 p.m.) warrants the time, effort, and money invested in this event. We shall see, but I’ll be downing Zero’s, eating, and enjoying the beach vibe no matter what.
My Facebook has been exploding with birthday greetings from friends far and near, and it is nice to be remembered. All the folks I’ve been supporting have made sure to remind me that my help is greatly appreciated, and they hope I continue to prosper with a long life. Maybe the sweetest message was from Ericka, the young college student I’ve been assisting with school expenses (and briefly dated a while back):
Yeah, it’s probably AI-generated, but it’s the thought that counts.
Anyway, when I moved to the Philippines, one of my goals was to make life better for some, and I’ve accomplished that. School money for a kid in Bohol, help for a cancer patient in Manila, monthly support for the mountain mama here in Barretto, the aforementioned Ericka, and the street dweller I call “mama” are the main recipients of my charity budget. See, I don’t even count those teeth I’m rotting amongst the local children. Anyway, the point is my life isn’t entirely pointless. It is good to make a difference, even in a small way.
In other news, my caregiver/helper, Teri, will be departing my employ tomorrow. She’s been with me since I first arrived in the PI over seven years ago. Teri needs to return to Manila to care for her parents, and I’m sure they will be in good hands. I’ll miss having Teri around to make my life easy, but Swan has taken on the task of finding a replacement.
Okay, let me share some photos from my final day as a sixty-nine-year-old.
These helicopters flew overhead loud enough to wake me from my nap. More and more, I wonder if a war with China is imminent.Sheryl came by the house to prepare her contribution to the birthday dinner.I took Swan to Baloy so she could enjoy some toes in the sand time.The rain we had earlier in the afternoon took a break, so we could enjoy the walk.Kokomo’s is the best beach bar option these days, and we had it to ourselves.Swan taking it all in from her barstool.At dinner time, we moved up the beach to Treasure Island.Beef stroganoff for Swan…And a grilled pork chop for me.
It was still too early to go home, even by my low standards, so we paid the very rare visit to Snackbar on our way home.
Nothing quite like the ambiance of drinking outside in a 7-11 parking lot.Mama was camping out there, too.
When the birthday morning dawned, everyone got back to work.
I made a big batch of chili in the crockpot.Cornbread muffins.And a double batch of brownies.Fried chicken is also on the menu.Along with whatever that is…Busy in the kitchen……and in the temporary “dirty kitchen” outside.Work, work, work!Meanwhile, Swan was busy with the directions at the party venue.
I’m honored that so many are working so hard to make the start of my seventieth year a special one. I’ll share the results in tomorrow’s post.
In a Memorial Day post from May 2012 of the LTG archives, I shared the story of my Great Uncle Frank (grandmom’s brother), who lost his life in the final days of WWII. As my grandmother Pernie used to say about “blood and guts” General Patton: Patton’s guts, Frank’s blood.
In a coincidence I didn’t remember, I celebrated my birthday four years ago at the eatery I’d helped my former girlfriend open, which was located at the same venue we are using for tonight’s celebration. We expect Marissa’s twin sister will be attending tonight to add to the old times flavor.
That’s Marissa in red.
If you’ve been looking for an update on the asshole vlogger, Vitaly, here you go. He’s screwed, and he knows it, and no one seems to care. FAFO defined.
As usual, we’ll close with me trying to be funny:
An old cowboy wandered into a Starbucks one afternoon, ordered himself a black coffee, and settled into a corner seat. He leaned back, tipped his hat up, and took a slow, contented sip.
Before long, a young woman sat beside him and asked, “Excuse me, sir—are you a real cowboy?”
The old man thought for a moment and replied, “Well, I reckon so. I’ve spent my whole life ridin’ horses, herdin’ cattle, mendin’ fences, brandin’ calves, sleepin’ out under the stars, and workin’ the land. So yeah, I suppose you could call me a cowboy.”
The young woman smiled and said, “I’m a lesbian. Pretty much all I ever think about is women—when I wake up, when I shower, when I eat, when I work… it’s always women on my mind.”
The cowboy gave a respectful nod, and they both went back to their drinks.
A little while later, another man came in, took the seat on the cowboy’s other side, and asked, “So, are you a real cowboy?”
The old man paused, stared into his coffee, and said, “Well… I always thought I was. But after today… I think I might actually be a lesbian.”
I’ve been a lesbian trapped in a man’s body since I was a teenager. I love women!
I had something to share, but an assassin ate it.See what I mean?
Anyway, you are only as old as you feel. I’m not sure what that makes me, but I don’t feel seventy.
Surprise, I survived my final Hash in the sixties. Bring on the big seven-oh, biatch! Yesterday’s trail didn’t even necessitate shortcutting, although I did shave off a half a click or so by picking up the trail in Alta Vista instead of the starting point at the Bella Monte Hotel. We had one moderately difficult climb that included going up via a creek bed with running water, but once we got to the top, it was relatively smooth sailing on the familiar My Bitch trail. Well, except for the heavy rain that hit us about halfway through the journey. Oh well, I was wet with sweat by then anyway.
The Hares this week were Fuck Buddy and Jiz Goblin.Because of the threatening weather, the Hares primarily marked the trail with ribbon instead of powder.That creek we traversed as part of the climb.Leech My Nuggets was the first runner to pass us as we neared the end of the climb.And he was followed by Anal Receptive.The view from the summit of our climb.Demolition Derby was the final Hasher to pass us by.A view just before the rain found us.A rainy Easter Mountain.Cums Alone brought her rain jacket. BF’s Wet Spot chose to bring a walking stick instead of an umbrella. So did I.A rainy day in Barretto.That’s always a good sign!On Home at Bella Monte.Cums Alone assists with the recognition for Get Your Rocks Off’s 69th run with the SBH3.And then it was time to recognize the August birthdays in the Hash tradition.Let them make a cake on us.
One of my least favorite Hash rituals, but at least it only happens once a year. I had the foresight, based on experience, to bring a change of clothes.
My version of the Hash trail was just under 6K.
The after-Hash gathering at It Doesn’t Matter followed, then home for some sleep in preparation for my final day of being 69.
It’s now May 2012 in the LTG archive journey, and in this post, I joined a union of bloggers calling out terrorist Bret Kimmberlin for his attempts to silence his critics. That was the only time I’ve heard of bloggers doing an organized response like this. Hopefully, it helped. Just checked Wikipedia and the asshole is still alive and one year older than me.
Today’s YouTube video from Smart Girl Philippines is full of tips I don’t need and can’t use. All I’ve got to do is ask. Still, she’s always fun to watch.
Let’s try these on for size:
All in the family.Nothing like going native.Reminds me of the culture shock I experienced when I moved from Arizona to Arkansas.
Time to get on with my last day of being 69. Nothing exciting so far, shopping day and more prep for the big party tomorrow. I know there is some beer in my near future, just not sure where yet. I’ll be back tomorrow with some seventy-year-old perspectives.
That’s the plan, and y’all thought I had no goals! I’m beginning to wonder if this old blog will die before I do; readership is down 50% from six months ago. Yeah, I get it. When you have seen it all repeatedly, what’s the point of seeing it again? Anyway, posting here daily is one of my routines, and I plan to keep on keepin’ on until there’s nothing left to say, even if there is no one who wants to hear (or read) about it. Fair enough?
There was really nothing special about yesterday (other than surviving), although there was a bit of a surprise along the way. Stick around, I’ll get to that.
Kicked off the day with a little head, as seen on the Sunday Sweets Stroll.We fed those hungry prisoners.Why did the duck cross the road?A sweet 5K journey.
At the appointed hour, I embarked on the weekly Hideaway feeding.
Food for the hungry.The hungry.
And then I was in for a surprise. As I was preparing to pay my tab and head out, suddenly the music changed. The next thing I knew, the staff was serenading me with the “Happy Birthday” song.
And then they presented me with this cake.
Wow! I wasn’t expecting that. I had a small piece to be polite, then hightailed it out to John’s place, where Swan was awaiting my arrival.
Birria tacos were back in stock, but alas, there was no guacamole.We also shared some beef bulgogi.
After our Han-Mex fusion dinner, we had a drink at Red Bar. We had planned on a nightcap at Jumpin’ Jacks, but once again, the bar was closed. So, we paid the rare visit to Annex Bar instead.
Annex upon arrival.Annex prior to departure.
Un día más ha terminado.
And I awoke to a misty morning and another day of life.
Sadly, life has now come to an end for a long-time member of the local expat community.
Rest in Peace, Jerry.
We’ve progressed to April 2012 in the LTG archives, and I enjoyed reliving a memory of what a day I deemed “close enough to perfect” was like in the Itaewon chapter of The Story of My Life.
I finally broke down and watched a YouTube video discussing this object hurtling through our solar system that may or may not be an alien spacecraft. I remain unconvinced and will not be updating my list of ways I’m likely to die just yet.
As always, I’ll try to leave you with a smile:
I wish I had seen clearly that the Loraine I knew would leave me wet with tears.I’m a lesbian trapped in a man’s body. I love women!The first cut is the deepest.
And that’s the way it is. Another Hash Monday has arrived, and while walking the dogs, I saw the Hares this morning marking the trail, which passes through Alta Vista. I guess I’ll find out soon enough where it goes. I will tell you all about it tomorrow, provided I survive.
So you live from day to day, And you dream about tomorrow
And the hours go by like minutes And the shadows come to stay So you take a little something To make them go away
I could have done so many things, baby If I could only stop my mind From wonderin' what I left behind And from worrying 'bout this wasted time
My second journey through the seventies approaches.
Will the circle be unbroken? It’s doubtful. In this life of routines I’m living, what you see is what you get. And not to be a drama queen about it, but the introspection I’m experiencing as I approach my seventieth year has been keeping me awake at night. So many doors get slammed shut as we journey through life, and now, as I approach the final chapter, I’ve come to realize I’ve run out of doors to the future. This life I’m living may well be my best option, but more and more I’m seeing it as the only option. I’m blessed to be living comfortably in my dotage with a woman who seems to genuinely care for me, so I’ve got nothing to complain about. If I have truly learned any life lesson, it would be to live in the moment and truly appreciate the life you have. Looking back at what you had and lost is pointless. It’s easier not to look ahead now that all I have to look forward to is the end. So, here we are. Live it and love it!
My Saturday routine includes the Candy Walk, which I recently moved from Sunday, so as not to upset the church Karen, who disapproves of gifting sweet treats to children. Even without the Sunday School kids, we emptied our satchels containing 270 candy bags on our trek yesterday.
The goodies we carried in our two shoes. Well, in our backpacks while wearing two shoes, but you get my meaning.A wet day, either a light rain or a heavy sprinkle for a good portion of the walk.Swan wore her sandals, thereby avoiding the wet shoes dilemma.A usually busy stop seemed deserted. Eventually, one kid ventured out to collect candy to share with her lazy friends.It’s always quiet in Marian Hills.Swan spotted some ribbon in a tree. Not sure if that’s an old Hash trail marking or for the one coming up. Guess we’ll find out tomorrow.Come and get it.Maybe lakeside living isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.This tree had broken down since we passed by here last week.Leaving offerings to the God of Litter at the foot of Easter Mountain.
I’m always mocking the litter culture here in the Philippines. Yesterday, it seemed like it was mocking me back.
The spoon was a nice touch.Forgive me, Jesus, for not accepting the Grace found in litter. I see someone left a Coke bottle as an offering.Calling the kids from Bridge #2.My tracker said we were exactly 6.0 kilometers start to finish.
When the time came to mosey into town for some Saturday evening enjoyment, we kicked things off at Sloppy Joe’s. When the urge to eat came upon me, I told Swan she ought to try the birria tacos at Myleen’s. She was up for that, so off we went.
The Myleen’s take on birria that I judged better than John’s place. Swan said they were good, but she likes John’s best. I think the difference for her might be that she gets guacamole at John’s.I found my beef enchiladas to be muy bien.
During dinner, an old friend of Swan’s contacted her and advised that she was back in town from Manila for a visit. We invited her to join us at Green Room.
Nice to see you again!
Does she look familiar?
That’s me and my ex-girlfriend, Marissa.
The woman with us last night is Marissa’s identical twin sister, Marilyn. It was funny when Chu, our waitress at Green Room, saw Marilyn because she thought it was Marissa, who had worked at Green Room for a while. Good times!
I’m getting out of my lane posting about punctuation, but here goes anyway:
An English professor wrote the sentence: “A woman without her man is nothing” on the chalkboard and asked the class to punctuate it properly. The men in the class punctuated it as: “A woman, without her man, is nothing.” The women in the class punctuated it as: “A woman: without her, man is nothing.” Moral of the story: Punctuation is incredibly powerful.
Today’s entry from the March 2012 LTG archives tells the story of how I acquired a treadmill in Korea. The interesting part was about getting it home. As an added bonus, you can see one of Jee Yeun’s specialties, the eggaburger. That’s what she called it anyway.
Facebook reminds me that twelve years ago, I designed this logo for the dart association I founded. After I departed for good, the name of the group was changed to SODA CITY DARTS ASSOCIATION (Columbia is known locally as “Cola-town”) and is still going strong.
Next up, let’s tune in as The Filipina Pea brings you some unique news insights from the Philippines. The adultery law doesn’t apply to me because my wife is a Korean.
Speaking of laws, I read today that the US Congress has proposed legislation that, if passed, would limit overseas call centers. That’s a big industry here in the Philippines. A Filipino formerly employed in the industry weighs in on the matter here.
Alrighty, now we get to the funny business:
Is that a selfie?Glad I gave up driving.Ran dumbly speaking, of course.
Between the lines of age. Yep, I made it through another day, and here I am to tell you about it. Nope, nothing worthy of note happened, but that’s never stopped me. It’s not wasted time if you get some enjoyment out of what you are doing. Yes, I’m still struggling with the implications of the impending milestone of seventy, but one thing I’m sure about–getting older beats the alternative.
I’m happy to report this blog has some value as grist for the mill in Kevin Kim’s new Substack site, Tasty Grammar. And least this time I wasn’t the bad example he used, he just found it here at LTG. Go give it a read and subscribe if you like it.
The Friday group hikers, all four of us, decided to Jeepney out to SBMA for a wet day walkaround. Despite some sprinkles, I never felt the need to open my umbrella. I mentioned in yesterday’s post that some fucker almost killed me with his crazy driving on the wrong side of the road (so much for walking facing traffic), but other than that, it was a pleasant hike.
Swan, Sheryl, and Gary pose at the entrance to SBMA (the old Navy base).The lighthouse at the Lighthouse Resort.This program should be implemented seven days a week, and not just on SBMA.Subic Bay on a rainy morning.I guess Thursday wasn’t a clean-up day this week. Or maybe that trash washed up overnight.The dregs of society.I’m not sure what kind of critter this skull on the beach comes from. Maybe a goat?I’ll take that as a sign.I wouldn’t mind trying some places on SBMA, but without a car, it’s tough to get around (no trikes or Jeepneys allowed).A couple of those MSC Navy supply ships are in port. That will make the bargirls in Barretto happy!Our spirits weren’t flagging as we marched along.That fire truck is as old as I am.I’ve never been, they tell me it’s nice.Looking to my right, I see how one half lives……and to the left, the other half.My almost came to Jesus moment was on this road just before reaching this spot. Even on SBMA, where traffic laws are actually enforced, people drive like maniacs.Exiting SBMA and arriving back in the real world.Finishing our hike on the streets of Olongapo City.Just shy of 7K. I have never understood why Google Maps shows Barretto where it is not. That’s the Kalaklan barangay on that side of the river. Barretto is five kilometers up the highway from there. Oh, and Google misspelled Barretto, too.
We opted not to attend the SOB this week. It seems pointless with only four bars competing these days, and some of those put forth little effort in their performances. We just did our own thing, hanging out at Sloppy Joe’s for a bit, then having dinner at Jewel Cafe.
Damn, that 600 peso filet mignon keeps getting smaller and smaller. Still tastes good, though.Swan did a beef broccoli dish and seemed to enjoy it.
We did our nightcap at It Doesn’t Matter and had a pleasant visit before bringing another day to an end.
Back when I was living in South Carolina, Cracker Barrel was one of my favorites, especially for breakfast. It was a little sad to read about them going down the woke pathway that ultimately leads to failure.
This was the funniest meme I’ve seen about the situation.This menu rendition was a hoot, too.But this one is the breast of all!
Speaking of the internet, I’ve reached March 2012 in my journey through the LTG archives. In this post, I talk about how blogs I started reading after 9/11 changed my perspectives and opened my eyes to the lies of the MSM. I haven’t voted for a Democrat since.
Facebook memories reminded me of the night ten years ago when I was taken by Storm.
Some things are better left forgotten.
In today’s YouTube video, Reekay talks about age gap relationships, focusing on the one he shares with his wife. Now, meeting a woman in her twenties (or, yikes!, late teens) is one thing. I have a thirty-year age gap with Swan, but she was nearing forty when we got together. She’d pretty much figured it all out by then, and there are not many lessons for me to teach. I learned something new today: Reekay believes learning something new every day is essential. Well, I don’t adhere to that doctrine. At this point in life, I’m trying hard not to forget the things I already do know. My old line about “I’ve forgotten more than you’ll ever know” may be coming back to bite me.
Let’s close the gap between funny and not:
I didn’t see that one cumming.Yep, when AI gets jealous, you are in for a world of hurt.I swear, I did not write that note! Maybe you can use this as a bad example on your Substack, Kevin.
Alright then, let’s keep moving forward between those lines of age.
By the way, today’s song is from the album “Harvest,” one of my favorites back in high school. When I took over as editor of the high school paper called “The Scroll,” I convinced my fellow classmate journalists to change the name.
No, I didn’t go crazy and flee. I didn’t get screwed either. It’s just that after all these years, coming up with an original post title is increasingly difficult. My first thought was “stuff about things,” but when I did a search, I saw that I’ve used that five times over the years. So, nuts and bolts it is!
All the damn time.
The pending arrival of my seventieth year has been on my mind a lot lately. It’s a milestone I suppose I never thought I’d live to see. But here I am. I’m sure I’ll get used to these emotions I’ve been feeling, but damn, turning another page in the story of my life feels like the start of the final chapter. I’m hopeful it will be a LONG one!
Anyway, it is easy to forget that I’m an elderly man because I don’t feel old. I often joke and say in response to the “age is just a number” line that I’m thirty years old. Honestly, I don’t feel all that old, but something about seventy just can’t be denied. That said, I’m still doing the things I enjoy such as walking and drinking pretty much like I always have, although maybe in somewhat smaller doses. The biggest change I’ve noted is the cognitive decline, especially in terms of memory and attention span. I guess if that continues, at some point I won’t know or care about it.
We never know how much time we have left, and everything can change in the blink of an eye. I was reminded of that while walking this morning. We were on SBMA, and I was walking facing traffic on a narrow elevated footpath. This being the Philippines, there was a power pole blocking the sidewalk in front of me, so I stepped into the road to move around it. Then I hear a horn blow and a car goes racing past inches away from me as it illegally passed a vehicle in the other lane. Damn, that was close. I yelled a hearty “fuck you!” and flipped him the bird. So, I haven’t made seventy yet. Here’s hoping!
Honestly, I have a sweet woman who loves me, and maybe that’s all the gold I need.
Beckie, ex-wife number two, posted this on Facebook yesterday (yes, we are still Facebook friends):
Fable: DON’T ARGUE WITH DONKEYS
The donkey said to the tiger:
– “The grass is blue”.
The tiger replied:
– “No, the grass is green.”
The discussion heated up, and the two decided to submit him to arbitration, and for this they went before the lion, the King of the Jungle.
Already before reaching the forest clearing, where the lion was sitting on his throne, the donkey began to shout:
– “His Highness, is it true that the grass is blue?”.
The lion replied:
– “True, the grass is blue.”
The donkey hurried and continued:
– “The tiger disagrees with me and contradicts and annoys me, please punish him.”
The king then declared:
– “The tiger will be punished with 5 years of silence.”
The donkey jumped cheerfully and went on his way, content and repeating:
– “The Grass Is Blue”…
The tiger accepted his punishment, but before he asked the lion:
– “Your Majesty, why have you punished me?, after all, the grass is green.”
The lion replied:
– “In fact, the grass is green.”
The tiger asked:
– “So why are you punishing me?”.
The lion replied:
– “That has nothing to do with the question of whether the grass is blue or green.
The punishment is because it is not possible for a brave and intelligent creature like you to waste time arguing with a donkey, and on top of that come and bother me with that question.”
The worst waste of time is arguing with the fool and fanatic who does not care about truth or reality, but only the victory of his beliefs and illusions. Never waste time on arguments that don’t make sense…
There are people who, no matter how much evidence and evidence we present to them, are not in the capacity to understand, and others are blinded by ego, hatred and resentment, and all they want is to be right even if they are not.
When ignorance screams, intelligence is silent. Your peace and quietness are worth more.
The obvious moral of the story is to ignore the libtard’s rants. But during the ten years I was married to Beckie, I was a Democrat and she wasn’t. That wasn’t at the root of our breakup or anything, and I don’t recall us arguing over politics much. But it did start me thinking about those years we shared and how we came to be together in the first place.
I first met Beckie during one of my visits to the farm in Poteau, Oklahoma, to see my kids who were staying there with my parents. I attended a gathering hosted by my brother’s then-wife, and Beckie was there as well. My girlfriend back in Arizona was going to graduate school to be a speech pathologist. That was Beckie’s profession, so we talked about her work. Later, I was introduced to the man who had been smilingly watching us from across the room–Beckie’s husband.
Anyway, fast forward a year or two, and I took a job in the nearby city of Fort Smith, Arkansas. One day, Beckie’s husband was clearing the road to their house and was killed when the tractor he was operating flipped over, leaving a widow and baby daughter behind.
Another year or two went by, and I was looking for a partner to help me raise my kids. Beckie filled the bill, and I married her. I got promoted at work and we moved to South Carolina shortly thereafter. She did a great job with my kids and is still actively involved in their lives as a loving grandmother. She is one of the nicest people I’ve met in this lifetime. She deserved better than my cheating ways and found it after our divorce. So, there you have another episode in the story of my life.
Speaking of which, I came across this article talking about Plato solving the problem of evil. The concepts taxed my weary brain, but the ideas about the multiverse and how all the paths you did or didn’t take in life have been lived out by you in a different universe gave me some hope that my dream of a “do-over” life may be within the realm of possibility, God willing, of course.
Well, thanks to my hiking routines and this here blog, I almost always know what day it is.
Yesterday was Thursday, and Swan and I did our own little walk. Taking advantage of rainless skies (that didn’t last), we braved taking the back way up to the My Bitch trail and had a pleasant stroll through the hills.
The cloudy skies didn’t let go of their water until we were safely back home.A tree I liked.That girl I like more than any tree.Started to the left and circled around for a pleasant 4.5K journey.
Another plan for my dotage years is to take a trip out of town at least once every month. I’m set for Angeles City in September. Swan wants to go back to Pundaquit in October. And yesterday I booked flights and hotel rooms for Siragao Island at the end of November. That trip will include all the neighbors here on Bryce Street.
When beer o’clock arrived, Swan wanted a massage, so I chilled in Alley Cats for an hour. I was the only customer during my visit. When Swan was done getting rubbed, we met at Mango’s for dinner. Yep, we stuck with the pork chops like we always do.
A rainy bay view from Mango’s.
After dinner, we moseyed up the highway to Queen Victoria for our nightcap. They had a pool tourney going on, so we weren’t the only customers this time. Queen Vic is hosting tonight’s SOB, and although it is an excellent venue for the show, I’m going to take a pass this time.
The view from our table at QV.The old man and the Swan.
Steven King has always been one of my favorite writers, although his political views are more than a little off-putting. Never noticed his leftism in his books, but then, I used to be one, so maybe it seemed normal then. Anyway, he posted something on X mocking Trump’s grammar. Turns out, King’s was just as bad. Maybe he needs to sign up for Kevin Kim’s Substack.
In the LTG archives from February 2012, I recount the adventure of climbing Bukhansan in Seoul. This was before hiking became my daylight pastime.
Today’s YouTube has a 70-year-old expat sharing some of the lessons he’s learned now that he is elderly. I can relate.
Humor never gets old. At least, that’s what I keep telling myself.
But what about in your do-over life?I’ve been reading that an alien spacecraft is rumored to be heading our way and is expected to arrive in November. Maybe we can invite them for Thanksgiving, just as the Native Americans did for the Pilgrims.We can always cuddle…
And that’s all I’ve got to say about that. For today, anyway.
In Filipino fashion, Swan has a personalized gift to hand out at next week’s birthday gala. I’m magnetic!
I had a beach of a day yesterday, which is always a good thing. The group hike with the Wednesday Walkers was also nice.
Where Philseco Road meets the National Highway.
We took a Jeepney ride out to the Philseco side of Subic and started our walkabout there.
My fellow hikers, Swan, Erik, and Gary.Gary was kind enough to water the grass.On the road again.The paved path is easily trodden upon.A change of scenery.The beauty of this tree continues to grow on me.In a stare fight with a baboy.Not golden, perhaps, but no scum in sight either.Banana forest provides little shade.This bridge wasn’t too far. About halfway, actually.Something you can’t not see.I couldn’t bear not to look. (On the roof)What’s a hike without a rickety bridge crossing?The path of our 7K journey.
So, I saw a post on Facebook promoting Kokomo’s on Baloy Beach. I sent a message and confirmed that the Tiki beach bar was open again after a long hiatus. So, I decided a surprise beach walk for Swan was in order.
She’s a toes-in-the-sand kind of girl.A view from my perch at Kokomo’s. Until the floating bar returns (probably November), this is the best option on Baloy to sit and enjoy a beer or three.Another barstool view.Kokomo’s as seen from the beach.Back at it.Let the good times roll!It’s been a while since we’ve enjoyed a Baloy sunset.It was a nice one.Kokomo’s owner, Lizza.To hell with the six-pack, I’ve got a keg!Spreading the joy.
After having our fill at Kokomo’s, we strolled up the beach for dinner at Treasure Island.
Low tide didn’t kill our high vibes.Swan had a grilled pork chop. I had a taste and it was great. Next time!There was nothing wrong with the grilled chicken sandwich (with bacon) that I consumed.
And, brace yourselves, last night I finally gave Swan a ring.
Ain’t love grand?
It was a fine day, indeed! You might even say it was a red-letter day. Well, red number, anyway.
For the first time since I’ve been counting calories, I made it to the RED ZONE. For what it is worth, I did walk 20,000 steps yesterday.
It is now February 2012 in the LTG archives. After a year in the USA, I rejoined Jee Yeun back in Korea. It was the first time back since I retired, and I no longer had commissary privileges on base. In this post, I share my experience shopping at a Korean grocery store.
Today’s YouTube video is one of those walking around town and talking about it types. The vlogger lives in Cebu, a city I’ve visited a few times and briefly considered as a retirement destination, but I wisely made Olongapo my home. To each his own.
The 70th birthday is one week away, and the preparations for the celebration Swan has been planning are in full swing. That meant we were busier (i.e., spending more) on the grocery shopping expedition yesterday.
YBC is a Filipino supermarket, and unlike Royal, I don’t think I’ve ever seen another foreigner in there. That’s no big deal, I go to Royal after YBC, and I get the imported stuff I want there. I’ve noticed that many of the YBC shoppers seem to be making purchases to stock their sari-sari stores. Anyway, I got a big dose of Filipino service yesterday that made the YBC experience very unpleasant.
There were only two cashiers open, both with long lines and full carts ahead of me.
So, the guy checking out two customers ahead of me was attempting to pay his bill via GCash (an electronic payment system popular here in the Philippines). If at first you don’t succeed, try, try again. And he did. Finally, a manager came and told him the system was down, and he paid cash. Next up was a woman with a full cart. She carefully separated items into piles and paid for each stack individually. The cashier seemed inexperienced and rang up each item independently, rather than entering the number of items and scanning once. She also seemed to be having issues with the barcode reader, frequently punching in the number on the item. One of the baggers noticed my head about to explode, and he came over and helped us move to the other line, which appeared to be moving faster than the one I had chosen. But when it came time to pay, the guy at the front of the line used change rather than bills. So, naturally, the cashier was obligated to count and add up hundreds of coins—Hoo boy.
I remembered the mantra I was taught on one of my early visits to the PI and used it: Take a deep breath. Relax. Accept the Filipino way. It helped.
Since we hadn’t been able to stock up on YBC stuff last week, we had two hand trucks of boxed goodies instead of the regular one.
I left a little over 8000 pesos ($150) behind and moved on to Royal to complete this week’s grocery expedition. I used the senior citizens/PWD checkout line (hey, there are some benefits that come with being elderly).
Three shopping carts instead of two this week.
Lightened my wallet another 20,000 ($350) for a record-breaking weekly grocery bill. Hey, you’re only seventy once, right?
Six cases of beer were a significant portion of the bill.
On our way out for the evening’s fun, we stopped by Baybayin, the venue that will be hosting the birthday event, and paid our 5000 peso deposit. I will be billed 200 pesos for each guest attending for use of the facility, and Swan is anticipating we’ll have fifty or so join in the fun. We will also be providing the food and beverages.
Where we’ll be. Baybayin will provide the tables and chairs.Baybayin bay view.
We’ll see how it all works out.
Next, we strolled up the highway to John’s place. We’d missed our usual Sunday visit, so we wanted to make up for lost time. We were greeted with the sad news that birria tacos were out of stock. Oh well, next time.
We had Korean-style chicken wings instead.
We stopped by Red Bar for another round of beer and wine. Afterwards, we were sad to see that Jumpin’ Jacks has not reopened as yet after Vangie’s passing.
I got a message from Roan, an old bargirl friend, wishing me a happy birthday. I thanked her, but pointed out my birthday was still a week away. And then she started calling me “Uncle John,” which was surprising (I’m used to “Daddy,” even though I don’t like it). I asked her why she called me that, and she said, “Because you are my stepdad’s brother.” What? And then she realized she had contacted the wrong “John.” That was pretty funny. Anyway, we chatted some and she told me about her struggles at the karaoke bar she is running. It’s been a very low low season all over town, and I’m guessing most expats (me included) don’t frequent the singing joints. So, on a whim last night, I suggested to Swan we stop by and have a drink at Roan’s place, and she was okay with that.
Roan’s place is decent enough inside, and since we were the only customers, I wasn’t subjected to anyone else’s bad singing. We abided by the house rules.
Songs were twenty pesos for three, and yes, I partook (I Started a Joke, El Paso, and Crazy). We might return again one day when the mood to sing strikes us.
Not bad for a Tuesday, eh?
The January 2012 LTG archives carried me back to the time I joined my high school buddies, Rod and Pat Headlee, for a night on their sailboat. Rod is another of those old friends I used to hear from occasionally who has completely disappeared. No longer on Facebook, and a Google search didn’t turn up any information on his whereabouts. Thankfully, no obituary either. He lived a life of adventure, sailing the high seas. One night on the boat was enough for me, but I respect everyone who lives the life they love.
Ten years ago, I authored and posted these words of wisdom on Facebook:
Sometimes we wait a while to begin our journey, but in due time we move on towards our destination. Along the way, people come and people go, but the reality is we are all solitary travelers. And then the ride is over, and it is time to pay the piper. And the damn fare machine won’t accept the only paper money in your wallet. And so goes another morning subway commute.
Ah, the good ol’ days in Seoul. Speaking of Facebook, I’m a member of a group that remembers Westminster, California, the town I grew up in. Someone posted this yesterday:
Blinky’s Pizza was very close to our house on Milton Avenue. My dad spent quite a few hours drinking at the bar there. And when I was in high school, I worked there for a bit.The stories I could tell about some of the shenanigans we had behind the scenes in the kitchen. But damn, a French Dip sandwich for eighty cents! Man, those were the days.
Today’s YouTube video caught my eye because the blogger is my age and experiencing some heart issues. Despite my unhealthy lifestyle, I’ve been blessed so far. My mother died from congestive heart failure and also suffered from diabetes. Hopefully, I can follow my father’s path (minus the smoking) and reach my goal of a mid-80s lifespan. That said, if I lose the ability to do the things I enjoy, like hiking, I’m not sure I’ll want to stick around that long. Especially if my negotiations with the supreme power of the universe for a do-over life are successful.
Let’s go out on a happy note:
That sucks.Don’t let familiarity breed contempt.I hope to keep on ticking for another fifteen years.
Some sad details about the passing of the Jumpin’ Jacks bartender, Vangie. She died in the restroom at work. After being away from the bar for thirty minutes or so, someone went to check on her and found a lifeless body. It was apparently a heart attack that killed her. I’d only met her a couple of months ago, but she was sweet and fun to be around. I’m going ti miss seeing her smiling face.
In news from the land of the living, where I blessedly still reside, I made it through another Hash yesterday. It was a half-assed effort that still managed to kick my ass.
We took a Jeepney out to Coral Street, about 3K away from Barretto at Kale Beach.And that’s where we picked up the Leech My Nuggets trail at about the midway point.We had some climbing ahead of us, starting with these steps.The steps ended, but not the climb.That’s the same face Swan makes when I fart. And no, I didn’t.Leech is the best Hare at making a well-marked trail, including hazards like this barbed wire in our path.My walking stick malfunctioned, so I had to improvise.Look off in the distance and you’ll see a familiar site.What goes up must come down, and this was a steep and slick descent. I took it sliding on my ass.It was good seeing mountain man Rolly again. It’s a tough life up there. We chipped in a little to help keep the family fed.Civilization awaits.This week’s iteration of the Hash Gash.Cums Alone and Cum Together.The Hash trail this week. The blue line is where I joined in for the final 4.5K.
The usual after-Hash Tomfoolery at IDM, then off to home to rest up for another day.
It’s a new year (2012) in the LTG archives, and on January 1, I actually wrote a meaningful post reflecting on the year behind that saw me lose both of my parents and the life to come (I applied for Jee Yeun’s fiancée visa). When I mailed the immigration papers at the post office, I looked up at the office upstairs, which I had occupied from 1986 through 1993, and this thought occurred to me:
And then a question came to mind. If by some magic you could be shown your future life, would you want to view it?
And today I wondered what would the me of back then have thought upon seeing the me of today mailing a letter of such importance and yet its contents were beyond my wildest imaginings just a few short years ago. I hope I would have laughed at the absurdity of it all.
Despite all the hopes and dreams and best laid plans, we are after all destined to live in the moment. I never envisioned this life that I’ve lived turning out as it did. The detours and heartbreaks and disappointments all inevitably led me back to this place, but changed me almost completely from who that man looking down from the window way back then. And I don’t just mean those extra pounds around my belly. All those experiences that I never planned for, dreamed about, or even knew that I desired have not necessarily made me better, and I certainly hope not worse. But this is who I have become, and I am glad for it.
I’m not going to answer my own question directly because I don’t know if someone had shown me the road ahead back then that I would have had the courage to follow it.
Of course, the life I was building in 2012 came crashing down around me a few short years later, leading me to this one in the Philippines. Would I have wanted to know what lay ahead? Probably not. I could have missed the pain, but I would have missed the dance.
I also came across this old photo I had forgotten even existed:
That would be me around 1960 at what I suspect was a camping trip at the Kern River. The pup at my side was our German Shepherd Frieda.
Yesterday, I shared a YouTube video from a newly discovered vlogger, Home Base PH, recounting five things you won’t like about the Philippines. Today’s version is him recounting five things you will like. Once again, I mostly agree with him, although I can’t really say I’ve given the local cuisine a fair chance.
Maybe these will make you smile:
Easy to keep clean in the kitchen.Like me when I do karaoke and I ask for requests and they ask, Will you sing over the hills and far away? It’s the most wonderful time of the year
Let’s see what tomorrow brings.
Looking back on the memory of The dance we shared 'neath the stars above For a moment, all the world was right How could I have known that you'd ever say goodbye
And now I'm glad I didn't know The way it all would end, the way it all would go Our lives are better left to chance I could have missed the pain But I'd have had to miss the dance
Holding you, I held everything For a moment, wasn't I a king But if I'd only known how the king would fall Hey who's to say you know I might have changed it all
And now I'm glad I didn't know The way it all would end, the way it all would go Our lives are better left to chance I could have missed the pain But I'd have had to miss the dance
Yes, my life is better left to chance I could have missed the pain But I'd have had to miss the dance
It’s good to be alive. Lately, I’ve been counting my blessings and trying hard to keep a positive focus on the unknown future. I’ll be seventy soon, and there’s no denying I’ve entered the final chapter in the story of my life. I hope it’s a long one! In the meantime, I’ll take each day as it comes and make the best of it. As long as you are having fun, it’s not a waste of time.
I filled those precious hours yesterday with the usual, starting with the Sweet Stroll’s new Sunday version. The kids are happy to see us no matter what day we appear.
Hung out to dry on a rainy day.Once we get spotted, the kids come running.I had to take a piss, and this outdoor urinal set up for the trike drivers was conveniently located. Alas, I couldn’t fit through that opening. So, I aimed for the bucket from outside. Swan got a laugh out of that.Come on down! Those teeth ain’t gonna rot themselves.Near the end of our trek, Swan also experienced the call of nature.
Swan has been planning a celebration event on the 27th. We’ve been discussing possible venues to accommodate the invitees, and after several misses, we have found a location that should work well for us.
The Baybayin has a covered area that can seat up to one hundred guests in a very pleasant beachfront setting. Conveniently located in central Barretto with plenty of parking.
In keeping with my Sunday tradition, I took care of feeding the hungry girls at Hideaway.
It’s a Joy to do so.
We did not eat at John’s place this week. Instead, we joined the Bryce Street neighbors, Martin and Joss from our right, along with Jeff and Davina on the left, for dinner at the Hops and Brews.
I did the Sunday roast pork special. A tad pricey at nearly 700 pesos, but tasty.
After our meal, I suggested the group pay a visit to Jumpin’ Jacks, but when we arrived, it was inexplicably closed. I found out this morning that the sweet bartender there has passed away. She was a kind and friendly woman who was only in her early forties. Sad that her time here on earth was so short.
We left the car at Jumpin’ Jacks, and walked up the highway to Red Bar for our post-dinner liquid refreshments. When we’d had enough there, we headed back towards the car, but decided to pop into Mugshots for a nightcap.
We all agreed this venue was more to our liking when it had a pool table instead of a dance stage.
Mugshots is now on my no-go list along with BarCelona, Cloud 69, and Cheap Charlies.
And then I ran out of time and brought another day to a close.
On to December 2011 in the LTG archives, and there still isn’t much of substance taking place other than photo memories from the past like this one of my mom and dad:
Livin’ it up! Dad with a beer in his hand and mom with a smoke.
And me and my high school sweetheart Karen:
I hope my upcoming journey through my 70s is as fun as I had in the ’70s, but somehow I doubt it.
The only post worthy of inclusion is the pictorial story of the visit with Jee Yeun to the Congaree National Park in South Carolina. Losing the life we shared still hurts, but I’m still glad for all the good times.
Today’s YouTube video is the first one I’ve seen from this vlogger. I like his style and the fact that he keeps it short and sweet, so I’m now a subscriber. I totally agree with his top five things to dislike about living in the Philippines, but as he notes at the end, the good outweighs the bad.
Let’s take a shot at some humor, shall we?
Are you shitting me?Well, not to be an ass about it, butt…He’s probably horny, too.
And on that note, we will bring this post to a close. There’s a Hash in my near future, and I’ve already plotted a half-assed course. I’ll let you know how that works out for me tomorrow.
Here’s that song I want played at my funeral, not that I’ll care one way or another.
Saturday’s come and go, and yesterday came and went. Here is how it went down:
Okay, now that we have that out of the way…
We did the Candy Walk on Saturday to avoid any controversy with the Sunday school teacher. The woman who runs the sari-sari store across the street from the church talked to the pastor, and he told her we should ignore the Karen because the kids are happy to see us. I guess he is worried about attendance if we are not there to provide an incentive to go to church. We still had a record-breaking day, so I’m leaning toward keeping the walk on Saturday.
This kid earned his goodies by traversing that hillside down from his shanty.Our goodies weren’t a bridge too far for these two.A river or a street, what’s it gonna be? Whaddya mean, both?
250+ bags of sweets handed out, so the effort was worthwhile.
Once again, Swan opted to stay home instead of helping me keep the bars in business. Oh well, her choice. Here’s what she missed:
It’s been a while since I took in the view from BarCelona.
I mentioned a couple of weeks ago that BarCelona had closed because they couldn’t pay their electric bill. They recently reopened, so I figured I’d give them a try. All the old familiar faces working there were gone, and the new ones weren’t an improvement. If I’m not mistaken, the bartender was a bakla (transgender). I’m tolerant enough not to be put off by that, but I have no tolerance for bad music played at high volume. Two beers and out, and I doubt I’ll be back. A beautiful venue doomed by poor management (and two flights of stairs).
I wasn’t sure where to go next. I was thinking about Hot Zone, but it was still two hours before their 7 p.m. opening. I popped into Sloppy Joe’s to consider options over a beer. Then I decided to have something to eat.
A pulled pork sandwich and fries hit the spot.
I was enjoying doing the open-air bar vibes, but wanted a change of scenery. Next stop, the seldom-visited Annex Bar. Hasher Fast and Loose was tending bar, so there was a familiar face to greet me. I was surprised that Annex was everything BarCelona isn’t. The place was packed, and they were playing some classic rock oldies with music videos on the big screen, like this one of Nancy Sinatra doing These Boots Are Made For Walking.
Annex is a small bar, but they know how to appeal to the local expat crowd.
I would have liked to keep the open-air thing going and thought about forgiving Cheap Charlies, but I guess I’m too stupid to do so. (The last time I was there, the bartender told Swan I was “stupid” for being upset about the bar having no wine. She said it in Tagalog, but I got the message loud and clear.) So, I ended my evening out at Green Room instead.
I was entertained watching some pretty darn good players shooting pool.
I’d had enough fun for one night by 7:30, so I headed home. Same trike driver as the night before, but no flooding to deal with this time.
Continuing on with my journey through the LTG archives, almost all my posts in September 2011 are recycling photos from the past.
Like this one from my cross-country skiing days in Flagstaff, Arizona. That would have been a mere 45 years ago.And here’s the view from the apartment I shared with Jee Yeun in the Gireumdongneighborhood of Seoul.
There was a post with some substance where I showed the difference between recycling requirements in Columbia, SC, versus Seoul. Here in the Philippines, we let nature do the recycling.
Facebook memories took me back to the time, thirteen years ago, when we disposed of my father’s ashes. His body was donated to a medical university, and they gave me a box of ashes when they were done with him a few months later.
First stop on our journey was Goltry, Oklahoma, where we deposited a portion of Dad’s ashes on my mother’s grave.I said hello to my grandmother, Pernie, who is buried next to my mom.
From there, we drove to Memphis, Tennessee, my father’s hometown.
Brother Keith carries Dad’s remains to the riverside.The Mississippi River is part of our family heritage; my grandfather was a riverboat captain back in the day.Into the river, then out to sea. Dad was a merchant seaman for many years.That’s Dad (third from the left) with his boyhood pals in Memphis.I inherited my sense of humor from my father, so I’m sure he would appreciate this sentiment.
Today’s YouTube video tells the story of the guy who plotted to meet up with Filipinas in a town with no other foreigners to compete with. What a dweeb. The video is a little long for my liking (twenty-six minutes), but at least it doesn’t have AI narration.
And now I’ll subject you to these:
Well, I’ll be a horse’s ass.Good advice!But he’s a prick, too.
It was just me and Gary for the Friday “group” hike yesterday.
As we discussed where we should go, Gary recalled a hike we took once with Scott along the river in Naugsol. No surprise that I couldn’t remember that journey, but since it was just the two of us, we grabbed a trike for the 200 peso ride to Naugsol. I figured once we were there, one of us might recognize just where it was we had walked that long-ago day. And sure enough, when we exited the trike and looked across the river, we both recalled walking along the top of the concrete riverbank. Alas, I told Gary that the last time I had attempted to go that way, I discovered an impassable fence blocked the path. So, Plan B was instituted, and we did a circular journey around the Naugsol area before heading back to Barretto through the familiar backwoods of San Isidro.
Along the way, I saw this licensed tree.Those twin peaks are the breast!There were no roadblocks on this side of the river.Green Acres is the place to be.How now, brown carabao?A couple of weeks ago, this was a lake we had to wade through.A pleasant stroll just shy of 8K.
When beer o’clock rolled around, Swan opted out, so I had the rare solo experience in town.
I kicked things off at Sloppy Joe’s.The first beer of the day is the pause that refreshes. And one thing leads to another. And another…
When I was ready for a change of scenery, I headed up the highway. It Doesn’t Matter where I went next.
It’s always nice to hang out with some familiar faces. Good to see you, Grace, Shie, and Chris.
After some more beers, the hunger pangs wouldn’t shut up. Myleen’s, a place Swan doesn’t care for, is right around the corner from IDM, and with Swan not around, I took advantage of the opportunity to dine there.
I was the best customer during my visit.
Turns out, Friday is discount night for Mexican food. That suited me because I was thinking about the enchilada platter. But after perusing the menu, I felt like I should honor Swan’s love of birria tacos. I also wanted to do a taste comparison to the ones we have every week at John’s place.
You don’t get Spanish rice and beans at John’s, but you do get three tacos versus the two at Myleen’s.Did they get the shell right, Kevin?
Let me render my judgment: I liked Myleen’s birria tacos best.
After eating, I decided I’d do my nightcap at Alaska. The SOB was taking place next door at Wet Spot, and I peeked in for a looksee. The place was packed. I also confirmed that Voodoo didn’t participate, so that brings it down to four teams. I asked Jerry, the Alaska owner, if he would consider rejoining the SOB, and he responded, “No way.” I was sorry to hear that. Alaska was always one of my favorite participants. Times change, nothing to do but move on.
I had Alaska to myself for most of my visit and four dancers to entertain me. I gave them all the usual fifty peso tip. Hey, every little bit helps!I also bought the hungry crewan order of the Filipino favorite, pancit, from Sit-n-Bull.
Having done my duty and with the bedtime hour approaching, I said my goodnights and headed for the trike stand. Apparently, while I was indoors enjoying myself, there had been a heavy rainstorm.
The highway was once again flooded, which made for slow going. I felt sorry for the Nipsey’s Bar girls because I doubt any customers were willing to wade through that puddle for a visit.
The other weird thing that happened yesterday was receiving some U.S. Mail. It was addressed to my current residence, although not technically delivered there (it was left with the guards at the entrance to the subdivision). I’ve never had mail sent directly to me from the States; instead, I’ve had things like credit cards sent to a retired military friend’s FPO address.
The letter I got was from the Social Security Administration.
It’s strange because I’m not eligible for Social Security benefits having not paid into the program for most of the years I was working for Uncle Sam (I was grandfathered into the old Civil Service Retirement System). What freaks me out is that SSA has my current address, an address I never use in my dealings with the government (my legal address is still my house in South Carolina). So, how in the hell did an agency like SSA find out where I’m physically residing? It’s kind of scary to think about.
Other things I found of interest as a former postal worker: The SSA correspondence is dated May 2, 2025. It was mailed from Pennsylvania on May 5 (international postage was $1.65). It has a Filipino postmark as being received in San Fernando (in neighboring Pampanga province) on May 23. Then it was postmarked in Olongapo City on July 14. And hand-delivered (via the Alta Vista guards) on August 15. Now you know why I use the FPO network whenever I need prompt delivery (US mail is sent to the US Embassy, and picked up there by a local veterans group here in Barretto).
I’m blessed not to have to deal with SSA on a regular basis.
I’ve hit a strange period in the LTG archives. Less than a dozen posts total for July, August, and September 2011, and none at all for October. I honestly don’t recall why I gave up on regular blogging during that period of my life. Having nothing of interest to say hasn’t stopped me lately. Anyway, here is the first post breaking the hiatus in November, such as it is. And hilariously, I spelled “here” in the first sentence as “hear.” Damn, I wasn’t even senile back then.
Nine years ago, I met Eun Oke. When I posted this photo on Facebook, I said the future is a mystery. Well, we didn’t have one, but we shared some nice adventures (and bad ones; she got crazy when drunk).
Today’s YouTube has The Filipina Pea sharing some unique news items from the Philippines. Like the fact that Filipinas watch more porn here than the guys do. What’s not to like?
Humor time:
Is that squared?Frog gone.I’ll take the fifth.
Another day, another post. Enjoy them while you can!
Back from the beach holiday in Pundaquit, but there was lots of work to be done. Neighbor Jeff and I both had a shitload of SOB discount coupons about to expire, so it was either use them or lose them. Waste not, want not and all that jazz, so we loaded into Jeff’s car and headed for Barretto at five o’clock.
First stop, Sit-n-Bull for dinner. I had a 15% discount coupon good for four, so I treated the group to a meal. As usual, Swan and I shared so we could enjoy the best of two different offerings.
Chicken quesadilla……and roast beef dip.
Over dinner, we sorted our coupons and finalized our plans. Jeff had a 500 peso voucher for Voodoo, and I had a “buy one, get one” drink coupon good there. We also had some deals for Wet Spot (buy a lady drink, get two free drinks), so that was on our list. Voodoo doesn’t open until seven, Wet Spot at six. We decided to kick off our Thirstday bar hop at Green Room, then move to Voodoo and enjoy the grand finale at Wet Spot.
Things didn’t go according to plan. We enjoyed our discounted beverages at Green Room, and at the appointed hour, moved a block up the highway under a light rain shower, and arrived at Voodoo only to discover it was closed. That sucked. So, we retreated to Wet Spot and drowned our sorrows there. Jeff messaged the owner of Voodoo and he responded that the bar was closed for “recalibration.” He told Jeff his Voodoo voucher would be accepted at either of his other two bars, Whiskey Girl or Tryst.
Voodoo is one of the remaining five SOB bars, so this may be another nail in the coffin for that long-running institution. I won’t be attending tonight to find out what happens next, but I fear the SOB is doomed unless someone steps up to reinvigorate the competition.
After Wet Spot, I was finished. Jeff headed upstairs to Tryst to use his remaining voucher, so me and my gal grabbed a trike for home. And so ended another day in the Barretto life.
Today’s weigh-in has me at 243.6, up from last week’s 242.9. Given my holiday misbehavior (not giving a shit), I expected worse. I hope to do better this week.
It is September 2011 in the ongoing journey through the LTG archives. In this picture-packed post, I share the adventure of a trip to the Korean East Sea city of Gangneum.
Five years ago, I was dealing with enhanced levels of COVID stupidity.
They added a face shield requirement whenever indoors, including on the Jeepney. That’s in addition to the mask I’m not wearing. It’s hard to imagine anything more worthless and ridiculous.
I’m a Boomer and proud of it! Today’s YouTube video recounts the way things were for those of us blessed to grow up in the ’50s and ’60s.
Humor time:
Plug it, Kirk!Been there, done that……got the t-shirt. Thanks again, Kevin Kim.At least it wasn’t a Great Viking…
But trips to Pundaquit do end. Here I am again, home safe and sound. A fine final day and morning on the beach is now nothing but a memory. And a blog post. Wednesday was much like Tuesday, with a nice hike and a newly discovered restaurant to enjoy. I’ll let the photos do most of the talking:
Swan enjoying the morning beach view before we hiked.Whatever floats your boat.This is as close as I got to the falls Jeff wanted us to see. I didn’t come prepared for a climb (no trekking pole and wrong shoes), so I bailed before we reached the top. Perhaps another time.A rarely displayed sentiment in the Philippines.I took this post personally.Those goats blocked the road and refused to move so the trike could pass. That guy came and dragged them out of the way.Swan, Davina, and Jeff enjoying the backstreets of Pundaquit.
After the hike, we settled into the normal afternoon pastimes.
The gals played cards while the menfolk enjoyed beer and snacks.Davina helped Jeff launch his drone. The sun did its thing.The rain thankfully stayed offshore.Dinner in Paraiso, a place we discovered on our hike. It is well off the beaten path.The biggest table menu (in size, not items) I ever did see.We loved the ambiance. This would definitely be a place I’d hangout if I lived around here.May tablemates. We had the place to ourselves.My dinner plate of smoked ribs.A group shot. That’s Paraiso owner David, a friendly Brit, in the back.
Back to the hotel after our meal, and the other Wave Song guests were having a party outside. Jeff added his music box to the festivities, and this being the Philippines, some karaoke broke out. Since the neighbors joined in the singing, there was no one left to complain. I didn’t stay long as I was whacked after a long day, but I fell asleep to the sound of music. The hills were alive with it.
Finding breakfast this morning turned out to be quite an adventure. The place we intended to visit was closed, so we continued down the road to Monty’s Riverside Resort, a venue I have enjoyed many times in the past. The place was open but deserted. As we approached the outdoor food court, no one was there to greet us. Finally, a woman shyly came from indoors, and I asked if they were open for breakfast. She said they were, so we all sat down. I saw her dusting off menus, which struck me as a huge red flag. Then the woman disappeared back inside and just left us sitting there. We waited a few minutes, said “fuck this,” and walked out. Just shocked at how what used to be a popular resort has gone to shit. Maybe it is just a low season thing, but something ain’t right.
We were less than ten kilometers from our favorite San Narciso hangout, Mope Resort, so we headed that way. Then we passed the FRA (Fleet Reserve Association), another place I’ve always enjoyed. I convinced the group to give it a try and we were not disappointed. Good food and good service made the breakfast trek worthwhile.
The SOS (shit on a shingle) with hashbrowns and eggs was the best I’ve ever had. Sorry mom!Swan enjoyed the pool for the last time before checking out of Wave Song.Goodbye until next time!
An uneventful drive home (just the way I like them) and I’m ready to resettle back into my Barretto life until next month’s excursion to Angeles City.
My father died on May 28, 2011. I honored his passing with this post from the LTG archives.
He spent a good portion of his working life as an engineer with the merchant marines.Dad, you are gone but not forgotten. I’m carrying on the McCrarey beer drinking tradition as best as I am able.
Speaking of drinking, I’m blessed to have not lived in the days of the Old West saloons. I like my beer served cold for one thing, and the other conditions described in today’s YouTube video might have made me a non-drinker. Yeah, hard to believe, I know.
Here’s a smile from me to you:
Forgive me, Father.“The ability to speak does not make you intelligent. Now get out of here.”You are what you eat.
Anyway, that’s where things stand with me. Let’s see what happens next.
So, picking up where I left off with yesterday’s post. After getting settled into our rooms, we sat poolside, enjoying the beach views and cold beers while the womenfolk played cards and drank wine. Then we moved to the resort next door for some more drinking. I was surprised to run into an old hiking buddy who lives in San Antonio, but drives the 10K to drink at this Beach Place because he enjoys the vibe. Yep, we liked it too. Nice to see you again, Gary!
We also met another guy who decided to sit at the women’s table (us men were all at the bar). Gary said his name is Bob, but he is known as DB (drunk Bob). He may have been a little flirty with our girls, but none of them seemed to take offense. When we were ready for a change of scenery, we loaded into Jeff’s car and visited Hidaway, a place I’ve stayed at before, and it also has a nice outdoor bar area. And then guess who showed up? Yep, DB. That was a little on the weird side. We enjoyed our brief stay and chat with owner Craig, then headed next to Car Wash for dinner.
A pretty quiet night at Car Wash, but we all placed our food orders and enjoyed more beverages while we waited to be served our meals. And it was quite the wait. Swan and I both ordered pork ribs, and they were the first to arrive. Everyone else was served individually over a growing period of time. I guess the cook could only prepare one meal at a time. When Davina was finally served, everyone else was already finished eating. That was kind of weird. The food was good, though. Shortly before we were ready to depart, our stalker DB showed up again. I think he’s okay, but it was still a little strange. Then a young woman arrived to take him home, so it all ended well.
When we got back to our hotel, we visited the place next door, which has a small bar and restaurant. It also has a videoke machine. Jeff wanted to sing, but was told only hotel guests are permitted to do so, so we left.
Back at Wave Song, Jeff broke out his music box and microphones, and we began to engage in some drunken singing. It wasn’t long before I got a message on my phone from the resort management saying that videoke is not permitted. That shut us down from singing, but we played some nice music at low volume while we drank. It wasn’t long before I’d had more than enough of that, so I said goodnight and headed for my room for some much-needed sleep. Sleep was not as easy as I’d hoped because the air conditioner in our room stopped working. The resort moved us to a new room this morning.
So, that’s what you missed by not being here. Here are some photos to illustrate the events described above:
The Barretto six enjoying lunch at the Car Wash.Swan’s Teddy getting comfortable in our Wave Song room.Wave Song grounds (that’s Jeff’s drone if you can see it over Davina’s head).Matt in the pool.The beach, boats, and Capones Islands.The beach and mountains.Hanging by the pool.Next door at the Beach Place. The staff enjoyed a shot of Tequila Rose on Jeff’s tab.Next up was a brief visit to Hidaway.The girls had a swingin’ good time until they got tired.Back at the Car Wash for dinner.My pork rib dinner.That hotel that wouldn’t let us sing because we weren’t staying there.Back in the pool at Wave Song.Jeff and his music box. Sign? What sign?And then the day came to a beautiful end.
March and April 2011 had a total of five posts, none of them particularly newsworthy, even by my low standards. I’d been busy working on my newly purchased house and adapting to the American way of life. In this post from May, I played some catch-up for my readers.
Three years ago, Alaska was still performing in the SOB, and I was crushing on Karen, the gal on the right. Those days are gone now.
Today’s YouTube video shares the five most dangerous places in the Philippines that tourists should avoid. Not surprisingly, four of them are Muslim enclaves. I’ve never been tempted to see any of them. First time I’ve watched this vlogger, but she, um, has a lot to get off her chest. The breast of the five-minute video, if you enjoy that kind of thing.
Now it is time for this nonsense:
There is more than one way to lose a friend.Shocking!I don’t know what you are talking about.
I do know that it is time to get on with my time at the beach. See you tomorrow!
No pun intended. Well, call it a play on words. Greetings from Barangay Pundaquit here in the lovely town of San Antonio, surrounded by the beauty that Zambales province is known for.
An uneventful thirty kilometer drive to get here.We stopped at the Car Wash for lunch before we checked into our hotel. Matt and Joyce arrived shortly thereafter to join us.As soon as we got to our rooms, neighbor Jeff and Davina headed for the pool. Those are the lovely Capones Islands in the background.Sweet Swan keeping an eye on things from the front porch of our room at Wave Song.
And that is all the news from here so far. Looking forward to hanging out with my friends and the change of scenery. I’ll update tomorrow as time permits.
Oh, and about yesterday. We didn’t Hash, but took a nice 8K walk to fill the gap.
Our hike included walking the length of Baloy Beach.When the beach ran out, we caught a boat to cross the river.And of course, we dispensed some sweetness along the way.The way we went about it.We finished up at IDM around four p.m. and a couple of hours later, the Hashers who actually did the trail arrived.
After seeing and hearing about the Hash trail, I’m satisfied that I made the right decision in avoiding it. Doing things my way is how I roll these days.
I’ve progressed to February 2011 in my journey through the LTG archives. I’ve purchased a house (a HUD repo) and now I’m engaged in buying furniture. It made me sad to remember how I spent extra for the best quality leather sofa and chair, thinking it would last me the rest of my life. Turns out, the life I had planned on left with the woman I loved a few short years later. Oh well, the post is not about that, it is about a strange coincidence that occurred when I was shopping. Small world, indeed!
Eight years ago, I was walking the lonely streets of Anjeong-ri. I was foolish not to enjoy that life for what it was. Give me a do-over, Lord!
Today’s YouTube video is about China’s FAFO moment while harassing a Philippine vessel. Karma is a bitch, you bastards!
A little humor before I get back to the real world.
It all tastes the same to me.Don’t fish off the company pier!That dog won’t hunt, little girl.
Okay, the beach and beer await. Thanks for stopping by.
