I kicked off my eighth year in the Philippines with a night out on my own, just like my first night as a resident back in 2018. Of course, I do have a girlfriend these days, but she was spending election eve with family. I missed her but also embraced the rare opportunity for some “me time.” I enjoyed revisiting the old perspectives, if only to reinforce the reality that I am much happier in my current circumstances. Granted, I’m still a man and sometimes my mind wanders to those days when variety was the spice of life, but then I remember how empty and meaningless those “relationships” truly were. So, despite my past history I don’t believe I’m in any danger of fucking up the good thing I have found.

As I began my bar journey, I was a little surprised at just how many bars were closed. Some are never open on Sunday, and others shut down to avoid any conflicts with the law that prohibits Filipinos from consuming alcohol during the 48-hour election window. I intended to see the old crew at the Snack Bar to kick things off, but they were closed. I made my way up the highway to It Doesn’t Matter, but they weren’t serving in the outdoor area I prefer. So, I went to one of the bars I used to visit regularly, Cheap Charlies.

Upon arrival, Aida, the long-time bartender at CC, warmly greeted me. She’s the only one of my old regulars still working there. We chatted for a bit, and of course, I sensed the expectation that I would buy her a drink. I have no problem with that, except as I learned on my previous visit, Cheap Charlies raised the lady drink price to 250 pesos, which exceeds the max of 200 that I’m willing to pay. As I explained to her, it is not about the money as much as it is about feeling like I’m being scammed. A single lady drink is 180 pesos or less in almost all other bars. I have no qualms with buying two at that price, but I won’t buy one if it is more than 200. That’s just me, and Aida said she understood.

A couple of beers in, my resolve began to weaken. It was Mother’s Day, and I assumed the gals working were likely mothers. There were only four there, so what’s a thousand pesos to spread some joy? I called Aida over and asked her what the girls preferred, a lady drink or some food? She consulted with her co-workers and came back with a menu. I told them to order what they wanted, which came to 930 pesos. I tipped the Foodies waitress the change. So, I got in a Sunday feeding after all, and I was happier buying dinner than overpriced lady drinks. Win, win!

I didn’t partake in the eating, but enjoyed sipping my beer and taking in the view.

Before heading home, I crossed the highway and stopped in at the Green Room (that yellow building in the photo above). I did the usual lady drinks and watched some pool while waiting for my takeout order from Sit-n-Bull to arrive (pulled pork and cole slaw). Swan still wasn’t home when I arrived, so I ate my food and went to bed without her.

We did the usual Candy Walk in the morning, but I won’t bore you with the details of that weekly story again.

Here’s a video clip of Section 9 of our walk:

I woke up this morning, looked out the window, and this is what I saw:

Here’s a closer look:

And before I finished my coffee, it looked like this:

The zoom view:

I’ll settle for fifteen more healthy years of this life in the Philippines.

Speaking of which, this post of mine from January 2008 might explain why I’m such an energetic old man. Spoiler alert: it’s something in the beer!

Facebook memories brought back the poem “Somebody’s Mother” I posted thirteen years ago:

 The woman was old and ragged and gray
        And bent with the chill of the Winter's day.
        
The street was wet with a recent snow
        And the woman's feet were aged and slow.
       
 She stood at the crossing and waited long,
        Alone, uncared for, amid the throng
        
Of human beings who passed her by
        Nor heeded the glance of her anxious eyes.
        
Down the street, with laughter and shout,
        Glad in the freedom of "school let out,"
       
Came the boys like a flock of sheep,
        Hailing the snow piled white and deep.
        
Past the woman so old and gray
        Hastened the children on their way.
        
Nor offered a helping hand to her -
        So meek, so timid, afraid to stir
        
Lest the carriage wheels or the horses' feet
        Should crowd her down in the slippery street.
        
At last came one of the merry troop,
        The gayest laddie of all the group;
        
He paused beside her and whispered low,
        "I'll help you cross, if you wish to go."
        
Her aged hand on his strong young arm
        She placed, and so, without hurt or harm,
        
He guided the trembling feet along,
        Proud that his own were firm and strong.
        
Then back again to his friends he went,
        His young heart happy and well content.
        
"She's somebody's mother, boys, you know,
        For all she's aged and poor and slow,
        
"And I hope some fellow will lend a hand
        To help my mother, you understand,
        
"If ever she's poor and old and gray,
        When her own dear boy is far away."
        
And "somebody's mother" bowed low her head
        In her home that night, and the prayer she said
        
Was "God be kind to the noble boy,
        Who is somebody's son, and pride and joy!"

  - Mary Dow Brine (1816-1913)

We’ll lighten things up a bit with today’s YouTube video from Mikey Bustos. It’s been a while since I’ve posted one of his parodies.

Now that we are in the mood, here’s some more:

Hash Monday is upon me. Leech My Nuggets is the Hare, which translates to “I’ll be shortcutting again.” Hey, it’s what I do, and I’m good at it!