Last night was certainly nothing to write home about. That won’t stop me though. Sorry in advance! A rather typical night in most respects, but in that way at least, it is illustrative of how most of my nights in these parts go. And there’s nothing wrong with that, I’m living big and easy and I’ve got the beer belly to prove it.

So, this is the high season. Which means our little town is brimming with tourists and other part-time interlopers. The residual impact is mostly about bigger crowds in the popular hangouts and the inevitable deterioration in service standards by overwhelmed staff. I’m pretty much philosophical about it though, these guys (and they are indeed primarily guys) probably keep a lot of places in business–the expat community is I suspect too small to support the profit margins of so many businesses in low season. High season pays the bills so I can enjoy year-round entertainment. Fair is fair.

Anyway, I started my evening at the Arizona floating bar a little after 5:00 p.m. I had forgone my normal afternoon walk in a concession to my overwrought lungs, so walking to the far side of Barretto to drink generated some extra steps. I came in at 19,000 for the day, which isn’t bad considering. I do enjoy sitting on the water and watching the sun go down as I drink. Certainly worth the walk!

The bar was pretty crowded, a large and raucous “private” party going on upstairs, and a couple of “two-week millionaires” spending big money on the ladies downstairs. Hey, if these guys are buying drinks for the girls that suits me just fine–I don’t have to deal with lady drink pressure. The only real downside is that all the girls seemed to be otherwise occupied so I had to get up and go to the bar to fetch my own refills. Ah well, no big deal.

After several cold ones, I decided to make way back to shore and see about getting some food in my belly. I really like the Arizona Resort restaurant, but it was packed. I knew the food would be slow coming out of the kitchen so I moved on down the highway. As I passed by T-Rose bar I figured I’d pop in for a quick one and see what was going on. It had been quite some time since my last visit. Basically, there was nothing going on. One other customer and he left soon after I arrived. Bored bargirls playing pool with each other was the only entertainment on offer. A couple of cuties though. I bought one gal a drink out of sympathy as much as anything, finished my beer, and headed back out.

I decided to eat at Sit-n-Bull, my overall favorite restaurant in town. They have a good regular menu and usually some interesting daily specials at reasonable prices. Service is generally outstanding as well, and I’m spoiled by being a regular customer and welcomed by name. Not so much last night though. They were also packed, although I managed to get a seat at my regular outside table. I called out for a menu and one was dropped unceremoniously on the table and the waitress hurried off without taking my drink order. Not a good sign! After waiting a bit I called another waitress out and asked her if things were as busy as they appeared. She gave me a look and admitted the kitchen was “backed up”. I thanked her for her honesty and told her I would find somewhere else tonight.

I wound up at Mango’s and was pleased to see Rhel, my favorite waitress that I secretly crush on, working. As she was leading me to a table another customer called her over to complain about the seafood chowder. I’d had a bowl of that on my previous visit and it was quite tasty. This customer claimed he had found pork in the chowder. I guess that offended his Muslim sensitivities. I was just wondering how he knew what pork tasted like. I don’t recall there being pork in mine. Oh well, while Rhel was busy taking care of him, another waitress took my order. I got my usual grilled pork chop platter, they are always damned good. When they arrived I warned my waitress that there’d better not be any pork in them. That earned me a nervous smile.

My bill totaled P1100 (I had a calamari appetizer and some beers) so I gave the waitress P1500. I was very surprised to see I had 900 pesos in change, so I called her over and said: “my change isn’t correct”. She got a worried look on her face and said: “you gave me P2000”. I told her, no I didn’t, I gave you 1500. She was so surprised! Either at her mistake or by my honesty. She thanked me and said I had saved her from being short. Well, I know some guys who figure they get short-changed a lot and when it goes the other way, that’s just karma at work. I don’t buy into that thinking and I’m certainly not going to steal 500 pesos, which is more than a day’s wages, from some hardworking waitress. Still, her gratitude and the approving look I got from Rhel on the way out made me feel good.

I made Queen Victoria my last stop on the way home. This bar is relatively new and has some real potential. Sadly, that potential is not being realized. The absentee owner has left his 20-year-old girlfriend in charge. She’s a hottie but doesn’t have a clue about running a business. I’m not sure what’s going on behind the scenes. They had hired a Filipina to manage the place and she was making some good progress at getting a regular crowd in the bar. Pool league, dart tourneys, and live bands. She’s also a Hasher and we had a Hash “on-home” there a couple of weeks ago. Now, I hear she’s no longer working there. And last night it seemed like I was in a Filipino bar (not that there is anything wrong with that) as I was the only foreigner customer. A very different vibe than I’m used to and one that doesn’t bode well for the Queen’s future I fear. Anyway, the beers were cold and then I stumbled on home.

Had a bowl of ice cream, did my nebulizer, hit the bed and slept soundly. Until 0300 when I was awakened by another coughing fit. This is getting so tiresome. Literally. I’m going to get through the weekend and reassess my options come Monday. I have my domestic helper searching out a pulmonary specialist for a possible consultation.

And that dear readers is how my night went here in paradise.

Started the new year off with a little camping adventure. Well, it was a hike and a cookout, but it felt like camping. I even took a nap.

The trail was all uphill until I reached my limit and turned around. After that, it was all downhill. Funny how that works. My lungs were screaming for air and I was moving much slower than usual. I sincerely hope that this is not my new normal. I *think* I’m making progress day by day, but it’s getting to be a real pain in the ass. I really have to fight the urge to just wuss out and lay around the house. Oh well, I’ve got some pictures to share:

Notwithstanding my health issues, it was a good day. Certainly the longest hike I’ve taken all year!

How about some unrelated humor I encountered on the internet today?

And there you have today’s report from the Philippines.

Everything is 2020.

Yeah, that joke is already a cliche. But this is a once in a lifetime opportunity, damn it, and I ain’t gonna miss out!

Anyway, I spent the last hours of 2019 doing what I do best–drinking copious amounts of San Miguel Zero. I started out on the Arizona floating bar where I captured the last sunset of the old year.

I hit a few other bars on the way back home, but no surprise I didn’t make it to midnight. That’s okay, I was awakened by the explosions that occurred with the commencement of the new year. They don’t use firecrackers around here apparently. Whatever they were setting off sounded like bombs. Ha! Can’t put rice on the table, but fireworks? No problem!

This morning I’m going to do a Sausage Walkers hike to kick off the year. And this is one where we are traveling out to the boondocks and we’ll do our thing and then grill some sausages over an open flame. Rumor has it there’s gonna be beer too! I’ll try and get some pictures.

Of this year.

Still feeling subpar. Based on my internet research I’m suffering from bronchitis. I’m hoping it is a bout of acute bronchitis which should clear up in a few days versus chronic bronchitis which can go on for months. Having COPD, of course, makes any respiratory issue more intense. Time will tell what this is and there’s not much else I can do about it in the interim.

I wasn’t feeling good yesterday but went out for the Hash anyway. I figured I’d play it by ear and not push myself should the trail become too intense. Well, we drove and we drove to the far side of Subic-town to begin the trail. I had never hiked this area and had no clue what was in store. In Barretto I can shortcut a trail as necessary, here I wouldn’t’ have that option since I didn’t know where I was. So, I made the decision to follow the highway back to our “on-home” on Baloy Beach. It was a good hour-long walk on flat ground, and given that I was coughing a lot of the way I think I made the right call. Being out of breath on a climb, heart racing, and having a coughing fit is probably not a good thing for an old fart like me.

So, I don’t think it’s a secret that I’ve been using an app called Grammarly as a means of making fewer mistakes in my writing. I’m not sure it has resulted in much improvement, but they did email me a report card today:

 TOP 3 MISTAKES   

Missing comma? Where have I heard THAT before?

What else? Well, it was 9 years ago today that I retired for the first time and enthusiastically embarked on my new life. Five years later I hit a brick wall and detoured back into the role of a working man. I’m frankly still amazed how that entire world fell to pieces, but it turns out those additional three years of work were the best and most satisfying of my career. Well, it’s not like I had much of a life outside of work. Everything changes and life will take you where it will. No point in kicking and screaming. Just enjoy the ride.

Alright, let’s get this last night of 2019 out of the way, shall we?

If you are thinking WTF, that would be Aunt Pat’s Recipe World Famous Fruit Salad.

It’s a Rizal Day, a national holiday here in the Philippines commemorating the life of Jose Rizal, an independence fighter executed by the Spanish on December 30, 1896. Do I need a better excuse to whip up a batch of fruit salad? I don’t think so!

This is the first time since moving here I’ve managed to make the holiday dish that has been my tradition for over 40 years now. The problem I’ve had is getting together all the needed ingredients that make the unique blend of flavors I’ve enjoyed since first experiencing this concoction as a child at my Aunt Pat’s Thanksgiving feast. But it all finally came together during my last trip to the Royal supermarket.

Let’s see what happens!

How did it taste? Well, different but still good. It might be a tad on the bland side, at least the flavors didn’t seem as sharp as I’m used to. Then again, overnight in the fridge is when the magic takes place as the flavors all blend into a unique mixture of goodness. My initial taste test satisfied my craving for this long-time favorite. And it has now been prepared in three countries!

In other news, I bought a thermometer today and as I suspected I am not running a temperature. That’s kind of a relief. The coughing is much reduced so far today, but my nose is still running like an Olympic medalist. We’ll see how I hold up at today’s Hash.

Here’s some scary stuff:

If these guys ever start a band, could they be named anything other than “Boys in the Yard”?

Happy Rizal Day!

Damn, I might not be running dry but I’m at a low ebb. I think a big part of it is I’m just not feeling well of late. I’m hocking up crap from my lungs at a rate I haven’t done since before I was diagnosed with COPD. It’s worse when I’m laying down, and of course, it’s hard to sleep with a hacking cough/spitting out phlegm. Hopefully, this too shall pass soon.

At least my stye seems to have shrunk and is not as tender and painful now. So there’s that.

I guess my bad mood carried over into a “discussion” in one of the Facebook groups where I’m a member. Some dick posted this and it just rubbed me the wrong way for some reason:

One very simple truth about this country and all the people who retire here : the vast majority of you wouldn’t be here if the locals didn’t almost all speak your language.

Lots of you where just being lazy eventually learning another language and thus live in another country. I honestly can’t see any other reason since for almost everything else, PH is a hell hole compared to most other options. I personally lived in other countries (Thailand, Argentina, Ukraine, etc.) and can find sooo many reasons why they were better experiences than PH.

If there was no English and almost no one spoke the language like in Cambodia (for example) the number of expats in Philippines would be divided by 10, minimum.

Prove me wrong? And if you can’t, then, although of course it’s a very important point, ask yourself : is it worth it to be in this country just because people can talk English? (Which implies easiness to find gfs, which is also a very very important point for most here) I guess some will think that yes, some won’t…
/ Discuss

I should have just ignored him and scrolled on down, which is my normal M.O. when I encounter an asshole. Instead, I responded thusly:

I don’t know you so I’ll overlook your arrogance and presumptuousness. And I don’t have to “prove” anything to you or anyone else.

The common language was a factor but not the main reason for my choice. I lived in Korea for 12 years and overcame the language barrier, at least well enough to get by. I chose the Philippines because I genuinely like the people and I’m comfortable here. I like the fact that my being here gives me a chance to make a difference in some of the lives I touch. I have a generous pension and could live pretty much anywhere. I considered Thailand but didn’t like the police state vibe. Cambodia is my Plan B or perhaps Vietnam. Bottom line, if I thought the Philippines was a “shithole” I wouldn’t be here.

It never ceases to amaze to encounter folks who hate their life, and yet here they are. Might I suggest a long look in the mirror to see what the real problem just might be?

I won’t be surprised if I get booted from the group. Not that I actually give a shit.

That’s how my day has gone so far. And really, if this is as bad as it gets I’m one lucky motherfucker.

Oh, please help me,
oh please help me,
I’m livin’ by myself.
I need someone to comfort me,
I need someone to tell.

I’m sorry for
the things I’ve done,
I’ve shamed myself with lies,
But soon these things
are overcome
And can’t be recognized.

I left my love
with ribbons on
And water in her eyes.
I took from her
the love I’d won
And turned it to the sky.

I’m sorry for
the things I’ve done,
I’ve shamed myself with lies,
My cruelty has punctured me
And now I’m running dry.

Not that things ever are. Here’s the latest.

I believe I mentioned a while back that in lieu of the orphanage I decided to sponsor a woman with five kids living nearby. Over the past few months, there have been some bumps as some of my expectations weren’t satisfied. I think we’ve worked through that so at least for now my support continues. Anyway, the oldest of her children, a 17-year-old daughter, gave birth to a little girl on Christmas eve. Yeah, the cycle of poverty continues. So far at least the father is still in the picture which I suppose is a good thing. Time will tell how this plays out.

So my friend Anna is now a lola (grandmother) and she is from all appearances happy about that. I share her thankfulness that the birth went fine and mother and child are doing well. I got a message from her yesterday afternoon saying they were due to be discharged from the hospital. And oh yeah, could she “borrow” some money to pay the bill. How much I asked? P9300 (just under $200). By any measure, that’s quite a bargain for a birthing and two-day hospital stay. On the other hand, when it comes to Filipino medical care it’s been said you get what you pay for. I asked Anna why the father’s family wasn’t paying the bill and she said all they had was P3000. Well, shit. All I had in my wallet was P5000 so I told her to come and get that. She was grateful for my assistance and I’ll reduce her monthly stipend until it’s repaid, so win-win I guess.

This morning I needed to go to immigration and renew my tourist visa. I had my driver swing by on our way to the grocery store. I filled out my paperwork, turned over my passport, and sat down to wait my turn in the queue. And then I remembered I didn’t have any money in my wallet, having used it for someone else’s hospital bill. I asked if immigration accepted credit card payment and of course, the answer was no. Alright. Off to find an ATM.

First stop was at the mall a few blocks up the street. That machine didn’t accept my card. I told my driver to take me back to the old Navy base. On the way, we passed another ATM from a bank I’ve used before. Pulled over, went through the transaction process, and got a message that the machine was out of service. Damn it. We drive on and come to a bank with an ATM out front, and pulled in there. I was third in line, and the woman in front appeared to have never used an ATM before. Then I noticed my driver pointing next door at another bank so off I trotted. No line, but no go on my card either. It seems only a few banks here are set up for international transactions. Back to the previous bank and my turn comes but once again, the machine would not accept my card.

At this point, I was wondering if something else were amiss. Was my account balance depleted? Had my bank in the USA put a block on my card? Well, nothing I could do about it standing on the street in Olongapo, so I had my driver take me back to immigration to recover my passport. I asked what time they closed (4:30) and when they’d reopen (next year), so I had to get the extension today or be an overstay subject to being fined. I keep some dollars on hand at home for emergencies, so I knew I could go to a money exchange to get the pesos I needed for the visa. But first, we’d take care of the grocery shopping.

Once back on base I had the driver pull into a bank branch I’ve used before for one last try at the ATM. And wouldn’t you know, this time it worked! And I guess my luck was changing as I secured everything I need for my fruit salad the grocery store. Well, I still need to go out and buy fresh coconut and have it shredded. And I have to substitute walnuts for pecans. But by God, I’ve got the sour cream!

Back to immigration where I secured another 30 days of legal status, then headed on back home. What an ordeal!

Oh, and the stye is back. Not sure if it is the same one or a new one. It hurts more this time though. I’ll give it a few days and see what happens before I bother with a doctor again. Otherwise, I’m just feeling a little drained or lethargic or something. No motivation. Didn’t even walk this afternoon.

Hmm, maybe some beers will help. I’ll give it a try and let you know.

My friend Edward (Anal Receptive) put on quite the feast yesterday. It was good to have a traditional turkey dinner with all the fixin’s again.

About the way Ed prepared the turkey; I got there after it had been removed from the grill, but here’s how he said it went down: The turkey and stuffing were in the pan and wrapped in foil, then put on a covered charcoal grill. The trick apparently is to arrange the coals so they do not apply direct heat on the pan, essentially turning the grill into an outdoor oven. He cooked it eleven minutes per pound and it really did come out perfect– tender and moist. Tasted just like an oven-roasted turkey. Damn good! My peach pie a la mode and brownies received good feedback as well.

After a nice afternoon at Ed’s, I headed on home for a turkey feast fueled nap. Then I did a Christmas night bar crawl to places I less frequently visit– Rosie’s, Hot Zone, Rum Jungle, and Man Cave. It started raining so I took a trike back home and made it an early night.

Breakfast at Sit-n-Bull this morning:

Okay, I’d like to get y’all’s take on something. I don’t do Twitter but I follow some of what takes place there from a website called Twitchy. Yesterday they had an article highly critical of some rapper in L.A. who stood on the roof of his vehicle and threw money to the hordes of homeless. According to Twitchy, this action was not charitable, it was “dehumanizing”. The link above includes a short video showing the poor folks scrambling about trying to grab as much cash as they can.

So, here’s the thing. When I watched the video it was eerily reminiscent of how the kids reacted to the candy being thrown out to them during our Candy Run. Were we dehumanizing these kids too? Obviously, that was not our intent but were we wrong to do so? On the one hand, they got free candy they wouldn’t have otherwise received. But in scrambling to get the candy, did it cost them their dignity?

I’m of two minds on this I guess. The kids were happy and the parents seemed pleased. No harm, no foul. On the other hand, when I see guys in the bars “make it rain” (throwing cash on stage) and the girls go after it like a pack of hungry dogs, well, it does bother me. My style is to hand the girls a tip individually if I’ve enjoyed their performance. Maybe it is different with the kids. I sometimes hand out candy on the street but honestly, being surrounded by a pack of jostling children grabbing at me can be very disconcerting. I’ll say things like “one at a time, one each” to no avail. Throwing a handful and moving away quickly is sometimes the best means of escape. Looking back on it, I don’t think the Candy Run would work if we tried to deal with the kids individually. It would be utter chaos.

Anyway, maybe it is true that no good deed goes unpunished.

No, not those voices in my head. I mean that loud, off-key singing of Christmas songs on the videoke machine. Yep, that can only mean that the day of days has indeed arrived in the Philippines. Merry Christmas to you!

I got into the spirit of the season last night with a holiday pub crawl during which I sweetened up those hard-working bargirls with some chocolates. The Candy Man strikes again! I did Cheap Charlies, Alaska, Alley Cats, and finished up at Queen Victoria, feeling no pain. The gals there were having their Christmas party, which featured them singing their favorite karaoke songs. Suffice to say it’s good that they have other ASSets to attract customers.

Yesterday afternoon I got my fourth rabies shot, only one more to go! I also went to the mall and picked up my new eyeglasses. I want to have better vision in 2020. Ahem. I also went on a quest to find the ingredients for my traditional holiday treat–Aunt Pat’s Recipe World Famous Fruit Salad. I’ve been stymied by my lack of success in finding two key ingredients: sour cream and shredded coconut. You’d think that in a country that grows and exports coconut (buko as they call it here) that should be easy. Well, not if you want it from a bag at the grocery store. Instead, I need to go to the outdoor market, buy a fresh buko, and have them slice it up for me. So, that’s what I’ll do–once I find some sour cream. The two supermarkets I checked yesterday were “wala” (out). Maybe for New Year’s.

Anyway, I’m attending a Christmas dinner this afternoon at a fellow Hasher’s house here in my subdivision. I volunteered to bring some dessert. During my failed supermarket search I decided Plan B would be a pie. Now, my favorite holiday pie is pecan. Pumpkin is a close second. And in a pinch, I can be happy with apple. Of course, the only thing I found in the frozen food section (you didn’t think I was going to bake one from scratch, did you?) was peach. So, peach it is!

I also baked up a batch of brownies and I’m bringing along some vanilla ice cream. Oh, and a tin of Danish-style butter cookies. So, there’s your dessert!

I asked Ed how he was preparing the turkey–oven-baked or deep-fried. He told me that he’s grilling it. That’s a new one on me. I’m assuming it will a rotisserie type deal, but we shall see.

And finally, in keeping with the spirit of the season:

Well, if the metric is handing out copious amounts of candy and getting big smiles from happy children in return, yesterday’s annual Candy Run was a success.

This was my second time participating in this event and I guess I’m still learning the ropes. Most of the Hashers were carrying hard candies and they’d just toss a handful at a time into the crowd of kids. I wasn’t comfortable doing that with my chocolate bars, however. They were a pretty popular treat and I was trying to hand them out individually but that tended to draw a crowd. I was also trying to ration them so I’d have enough to cover the full 6K walk. Eventually, I got out in front of the truck carrying Santa and then told then kids the candy was “back there”. That allowed me to pick and choose my time and place for distribution. After a while, I focused on the mothers and lolas (grandmothers) for the chocolate treats and that worked well. I gave away my last morsels just before arriving back “on-home” at Hot Zone.

Anyway, it was enjoyable to give a little back to the community, especially the ones who have so little.

And that’s the way it was.

Merry Christmas!

Oh, I didn’t mention my bounty from the Christmas party.

The Almost Famous hat almost fits. I have a surprisingly big head holding my tiny brain.

It is said that it is better to give than receive. In the spirit of the season, we will be doing our annual Candy Run at the Hash today.

Oh, who can take tomorrow?
(Who can take tomorrow?)
Dip it in a dream
(Dip it in a dream)
Separate the sorrow and collect up all the cream

The Candy Man (the candy man)
The Candy Man can (the candy man can)
The Candy Man can ’cause he mixes it with love
And makes the world taste good
(Makes the world taste good)

…you’ll be drunk when you are done…

Anyway, a good time at the Alley Cats Christmas party last night. I got all dressed up for the occasion:

Where’s my Ho Ho Ho’s at?

Owner Dean (black t-shirt above) put out quite a feast, including the traditional Filipino holiday favorite, Lechon.

Speaking of pigs, Facebook saw fit to remind me how I looked four years ago:

Anyway, the quest for beauty in my life continues.

It’s a start. You just have to have a little faith.

Carry on my wayward son
There’ll be peace when you are done
Lay your weary head to rest
Don’t you cry no more

Once I rose above the noise and confusion
Just to get a glimpse beyond this illusion
I was soaring ever higher, but I flew too high

Though my eyes could see I still was a blind man
Though my mind could think I still was a mad man
I hear the voices when I’m dreaming
I can hear them say

Carry on my wayward son
There’ll be peace when you are done
Lay your weary head to rest
Don’t you cry no more

Masquerading as a man with a reason
My charade is the event of the season
And if I claim to be a wise man
Well, it surely means that I don’t know

On a stormy sea of moving emotion
Tossed about, I’m like a ship on the ocean
I set a course for winds of fortune
But I hear the voices say

Carry on my wayward son
There’ll be peace when you are done
Lay your weary head to rest
Don’t you cry no more no!

Carry on
You will always remember
Carry on
Nothing equals the splendor
Now your life’s no longer empty
Surely heaven waits for you

Carry on my wayward son
There’ll be peace when you are done
Lay your weary head to rest
Don’t you cry
Don’t you cry no more

No more!

Günter wasn’t here today so I got elected to lead the Wednesday Walkers. As is my wont, I made it pretty easy. One hard but short climb up to My Bitch, then a meandering trail back around to near Rizal Extension. My twist was taking a seldom-used path leading back to the valley floor. Near the bottom and out in the absolute middle of nowhere is this statue of the Virgin Mary:

All I know is the damn thing is powerful! As we approached I called out “hey baby!”. And immediately my feet came out from under me and I went down hard on my ass. It was both painful and embarrassing. The Filipinas in the group posed for pictures with the statue and one of them said to me “Don’t call her baby.” I won’t, I learned my lesson.

Once we hit the valley, I let Almaranus take over leadership figuring he would just head us back towards town. Nope, he took us climbing up a mountain. I was cursing my self for being so cursed.

We had lunch at the top then made our way back to Barretto for liquid refreshment at Cheap Charlies. Not a bad day’s work on trail:

That’s about enough for today. But at least I’m not this guy:

Peace out!

…of the Subic Bay Hash House Harriers. I was a co-Hare, but had virtually no input on the trail selection. The other Hares, Pubic Head and Blow My Pipe, knew what they wanted to do and did it. I was basically there to carry the powder as it were. No complaints, it was a good trail. Only hitch seemed to be that no one found the trail through the rice paddy. We suspect the farmer erased our marks as he didn’t appreciate the traffic. Oh well.

Here’s some photos:

That’s it for now. Time to do the Wednesday Walkers group.