I do drink more than my fair share of brew and I have the belly to prove it! Geez, guys bragging about their six-pack abs; I’ve practically got a keg under my shirt. Anyway, I walk so I can drink with impunity. And notwithstanding my girth, I’m maintaining my weight in the 200-205 range.

Which is not to say that I don’t consume calories in more traditional ways. I’m not talking about ice cream, although that’s a sweet tooth indulgence I can’t seem to resist. Last night I enjoyed a home-prepared meal:

I did manage to get my steps in yesterday afternoon, despite the rain.

I took a few “between the storms” photographs from one vantage point on my neighborhood walk.

It rained again like a motherfucker last night. I was glad I had the foresight to carry my umbrella with me to Cheap Charlies. I still wound up taking a trike home. And as infrequently as I use something other than my legs to get home, the driver not only knew where I lived but called me by name. Even after several beers, I found that somewhat disconcerting.

Speaking of the rain, I’m sorry to report that the Kokomo’s floating bar I recently visited hasn’t faired too well in the current stormy weather.

In other disconcerting news, I received this email from my older brother today:

I received a voice mail from some very rude bitch who did not identify herself or her firm.  She stated she had a right to contact me because she is unable to contact you.

Her message:  There is a formal complaint filed against you.  You must call 833-960-XXXX and reference file BFA 14598 regarding the pending allegations.

I honestly have no idea what this is all about. My scam radar went off, but that doesn’t really make sense either. The 833 prefix is a toll-free number apparently. Anyway, as far as I’m concerned she can keep on looking, I have no intention of calling. I haven’t lived in the USA for years and years, can’t imagine how I might have generated a “formal complaint” from anyone. If it were something from my working days, well, they have my email address. Hell, even a Google search would probably reveal my current whereabouts.

Oh, wait a minute! Did one of you readers finally complain about the boring drivel I post here every day? Damn it! Guilty as charged.

It’s not like I’m washed up or anything, but yesterday’s Hash was a washout for me. Or more precisely, a rainout. The skies opened up around 3:00 and the rain continued periodically throughout the afternoon. Of course, the Hash goes on, rain or shine, but I just wasn’t feeling it. The Hare, Vienna Sausage, has a reputation for doing Alps-like climbs and I just wasn’t prepared to go there in the rain and the mud. I was not alone in that decision as probably only a third of 39 Hashers in attendance actually did the trail. I opted for a one hour hike on pavement and left it at that.

After I’d completed my own trail I popped into Cheap Charlies to await the beginning of the on-home activities across the street at Hot Zone.

Anyway, it wasn’t a great day for a Hash but we made the best of it. Still raining off and on today as well. I guess if all I’ve got to complain about is the weather things must be going pretty good, right?

Oh, I did come across some more Fiesta related information on my personal Hash trail yesterday. It’s a barangay-wide event as opposed to being city-wide, with events taking place in the various puroks around town. (A barangay is a village within the city, a purok is a neighborhood within the village).

Damn it! It’s pouring rain again, just when I was fixin’ to do my afternoon walk. Now what? Well, I came across this mildly interesting article today:

I talked to a Russian man who, during the 1980 Moscow Olympics, found himself working near the stadium box where Soviet leader Leonid Brezhnev was going to sit for the opening ceremony. He was standing by when Brezhnev’s security detail stormed in ahead of the General Secretary, and demanded to know what certain metal poles were doing in a particular place. Technicians explained that these were the supports for the TV lights that would illuminate Comrade Brezhnev.

“We didn’t agree to these things!” one of the KGB men barked. “Get rid of them!”

You didn’t argue with the KGB. Down came the poles. And so, at the 1:25 mark in the opening ceremony (see above), when the camera lands on Brezhnev as he is introduced to the crowd, and to the watching world, the General Secretary is shrouded in darkness.

“That was the first clue I had that the system was going to fall,” said my Russian interlocutor. He meant that a system that caused a globally humiliating mistake like that to happen, because certain people in authority thought they knew better, and everybody below them was reasonably terrified to tell them no — a system like that was going to collapse.

I guess the reason I found it noteworthy was that it reminded me of one of the highlights of my government career. As usual, the Korean government was not wanting to pony up the amount of money the Americans thought necessary to pay for the US forces stationed in Korea. So, the USFK Commander (a four-star General) was frustrated and decided to pursue action that would send an appropriate message to the Koreans. I was invited because I was the civilian personnel director with oversight of our Korean workforce. So, the General’s big plan was to furlough our Korean workers. The room was packed with General Officers, Colonels and the like. They were all nodding their heads approvingly and saying “yes, sir!”. I’m sitting in the back of the room pretty much unnoticed. So I raised my hand and said: “excuse me, sir”. “Yes, what is it?” the General barked. I responded “I can do the union notification and issue the furlough letters. But I hope you understand this means we won’t have anyone to drive the school buses, clean the hospital, serve food in the mess hall…” The look on his face! He turned to the 2-star Marine General next to him and asked: “why wasn’t I informed of this?” Woo boy! Suffice to say we didn’t do the furlough and I got a lot of dirty looks from the yes men after that meeting.

Good times!

This is the sight that greeted my weary eyes when I awoke at 0600 this morning:

After taking care of my morning chores (coffee, perusing the internet, walking the dogs) I headed out for my traditional a.m. hike. And I noted that it is fiesta time once again in our fair city. Honestly, I’m not all that clear on the concept, check out the link above and you’ll know about as much as I do. I have noticed that at least in Olongapo the fiestas are celebrated within an individual purok (neighborhood), and not necessarily on the same dates.

In news that is more pertinent to someone like me, my beach walk revealed that the Arizona floating bar has been anchored offshore. Word on the street is that it will be opening later this week. I’ll have my own damn fiesta!

On my afternoon walk yesterday I imagined this conversation:

Pulot maaari mong alisin ang basurahan?

Oo mahal

Oh, I guess I should translate that for you.

Honey, can you take out the trash?

Yes, dear.

Yes, yes, I’m showing off my mastery of Tagalog Google translate. But back to my story. As I’m coming down the mountain, I see this:

Now, I can kinda sorta understand this. There is likely no city government trash pick up service out here in the sticks, so what are your options? Lots of people just burn their garbage which is probably equally bad for the environment. I honestly don’t put this in the same category as littering, that’s just pure laziness. Anyway, this is sort of the opposite of my morning rainbow.

And I’m reminded just how filthy some Americans can be.

Alrighty, then. Time to move on. Got a Hash on the horizon this afternoon. Thanks for stopping by!

Somewhere over the rainbow way up high
There’s a land that I heard of once in a lullaby
Somewhere over the rainbow skies are blue
And the dreams that you dare to dream really do come true

Someday I’ll wish upon a star
And wake up where the clouds are far
Behind me
Where troubles melt like lemon drops
Away above the chimney tops
That’s where you’ll find me

Somewhere over the rainbow bluebirds fly
Birds fly over the rainbow
Why then, oh, why can’t I?

If happy little bluebirds fly
Beyond the rainbow
Why, oh, why can’t I?

UPDATE: Well, I’ll be damned. I used “somewhere over the rainbow” as a post title for the first time way back in August 2006. I had totally forgotten seeing The Wizard of Oz performed as a Korean play, featuring an acquaintance of mine in the role of Dorothy. It was really nice taking that stroll down memory lane this afternoon.

Not much happening on this lazy Sunday. Nothing to speak of from Saturday night either, unless you want to hear about cold beers at Cheap Charlies. Didn’t think so.

So, what does that leave me? The last bastion of a desperate blogger–shit that popped up in my Facebook feed.

I had to click on this article entitled “Absolute wanker has thing about pronouncing foreign words correctly” just to be sure it wasn’t someone I know. It’s short and funny, go give it a read. I’ll wait here for you.

That was quick! In the same vein and from the same source is this: “38-year-old man has just learned it’s ‘could have’ not ‘could of’”. I could of told him that.

Admittedly, I’m a bit of a dinosaur when it comes to getting grammar, punctuation, and pronunciation right. Is there a word for that?

Speaking of Kevin Kim, he’s taking his pie-making to a whole other level. Check out his Windmill’s breakfast pie. It’s a masterpiece! After reading his post, I went out to breakfast myself. And when I saw the chicken pie on the menu, I couldn’t resist.

And finally, I learned something today about the origin of darts:

I’ve actually not been playing all that much lately. When I do play, I’ve been throwing pretty well. I just can’t seem to recapture my passion for the game. Anyway, no big deal. I play when I feel like it or don’t have anything better to do. Last night I started out at Alley Cats but just wasn’t feeling the darts vibe, so I drank beer and took in the view at Cheap Charlies instead.

It’s all good.

Smile an everlasting smile
A smile could bring you near to me
Don’t ever let me find you gone
‘Cause that would bring a tear to me
This world has lost it’s glory
Let’s start a brand new story
Now my love right now there’ll be
No other time and I can show you
How my love

Talk in everlasting words
And dedicate them all to me
And I will give you all my life
I’m here if you should call to me
You think that I don’t even mean
A single word I say

It’s only words, and words are all
I have to take your heart away
It’s only words, and words are all
I have to take your heart away It’s only words, and words are all I have

To take your heart away

All Saints Day is apparently a big deal here in this predominately Catholic country. Who knew?

I took a Jeepney out to the mall yesterday morning. Got there a little before the assumed opening time of 10 a.m. Nope, a late opening (noon) due to the holiday. So, I took a goodly long walk around the old Navy base then popped in here for lunch:

Returned to the now open mall in search of some new shoes. I usually plan to just re-stock on all my personal needs during my annual trip to the USA. I decided not to go this year, so it’s time to see how the locals do it. I found a nice pair of New Balance sneakers to wear for everyday use. The mall also has a Merrill store which is my preferred brand for hiking shoes. Saw some I like but don’t need any just yet. The also had a Nike and Columbia store. I’m boycotting Nike and the Columbia store didn’t have much in the sizes I require. Anyway, I got what I came for this trip. Praise be to the saints of shopping!

So, it occurs to me that in my self-indulgence I’ve been negligent when it comes to sharing with you some insights into Filipino culture. And what better way to do that than through song? Mikey Bustos is a very popular actor/comedian here in the PI. In the video “If Freddie Mercury were Filipino” he hilariously depicts some of the things that make the Philippines unique, especially the food.

HaHa, when I went to pull that video, I see he’s done parodies of Lady Gaga and Michael Jackson too! So much culture, so little time! Saints preserve us!

Speaking of culture, Kevin Kim has a post about learning the native language of the country in which you reside. Now, I’ve learned a handful of words in Tagalog. But Visayan and Cebuano are also widely spoken here (depending on where you are in the country). Which is why English is supposed to be the common tongue in the Philippines. I’m working at getting better in that one at least! That doesn’t make me a saint, I know.

Hey, do you want to see my dogs?

They are not perfect, but they love me like I’m a saint. That’s good enough for me!

So, I did the Halloween party thing last night. I’m not into that whole wearing a costume routine, the last time I did was three years ago at Eun Oke’s insistence. Anyway, people kept asking me if I was going to “dress up,” so I figured, hell, why not? I got my old work suit out of storage and dressed up for the occasion. It was actually pretty funny hearing people guess who I was supposed to be. And I couldn’t help but think that I’m far enough removed now from my working life that dressing as a government bureaucrat makes for a good enough costume.

The party was held at the Queen Victoria bar and it was packed. Even had a live band playing. There was also a makeup artist on hand, so I took advantage to spice up my “costume” some.

There was a woman there I hadn’t met before, but I just had to pose with her:

A drunken good time was had. Apparently.

I was working in the lab late one night,
When my eyes beheld an eerie sight.
For my monster from his slab began to rise,
And suddenly to my surprise,
He did the Monster Mash.
(The Monster Mash, )
It was a graveyard smash.
(He did the Mash, )
It caught on in a flash.
(He did the Mash, )
He did the Monster Mash.

Overall, a very nice Sausage Walkers adventure yesterday. We took the Hashmobile 25 minutes out of town and walked back. Our path was for the most part along the banks of the Matain river in an area I had not previously walked. I always enjoy new vistas.

Well, it wasn’t entirely new. When the truck pulled off the roadway I spotted an all too familiar bridge. One that on a previous long ago walk I had refused to cross, subjecting me to some good-natured derision from my fellow hikers. Once I had confirmed that it was, in fact, the same bridge and it was indeed the plan that we should cross, I came to the same conclusion I had back then–a big NOPE! This time several others in our group agreed that discretion actually is the better part of valor and joined me on an alternative hike a few meters upriver for a more suitable crossing.

It’s similar to this “stairway to heaven” video Kevin Kim shared on his blog. At least for me.

Anyway, the group re-formed and we went on our way (the last time I’d avoided this bridge, we turned left. Yesterday we turned right. Hence, a new trail for me).

Oh, and Happy Halloween! I’ll be going to a party tonight at Queen Victoria bar. Everyone keeps asking if I’m going to dress up, so I guess I will. Pictures tomorrow!

And a quick update on Ilene. Ran into her last night at Cheap Charlies. She was with Stuart, another member of the Wednesday walking group. He asked me if I’d mind taking a photo. Well, of course I wouldn’t mind.

I made my way out to Baloy Beach yesterday afternoon and visited the recently re-opened floating bar called Kokomo’s. It’s the first one out this season (Blue Rock and Arizona also feature floating bars). I enjoy the ambiance of drinking my beers on the water for some reason.

And once I was on board I had a bit of a surprise. Amongst the dozen or so working girls young women waiting for customers were two gals I first met at the Hash–Arcel (Subic Ice Queen) and Julica (Libre Boom Boom).

And there you have an update on the drunken portion of my life. And speaking of dogs (ahem), how about these:

My dogs ain’t heroes or anything, so I guess I don’t have to worry about whatever shady things they may have done being exposed by the likes of CNN.

Now, wasn’t that fun?

Off the Florida Keys, there’s a place called Kokomo
That’s where you want to go to get away from it all
Bodies in the sand, tropical drink melting in your hand
We’ll be falling in love to the rhythm of a steel drum band
Down in Kokomo

Aruba, Jamaica, oh I want to take you to
Bermuda, Bahama, come on pretty mama
Key Largo, Montego, baby why don’t we go
oh I want to take you down to
Kokomo, we’ll get there fast and then we’ll take it slow
That’s where we want to go, way down in Kokomo

I was officially a Hare yesterday (by officially I mean I didn’t have to pay Hash dues, Hares are free) but it was all Scott (Pubic Head) and Jim (Blow My Pipe) doing the heavy lifting, I was just along to assist. The big news was that it was Scott’s 184th time in the saddle as a Hare, making him the most prolific Hare in the history of the Subic Bay Hash House Harriers. Congrats!

With all that experience there are very few trails that Scott hasn’t hiked. He’s like a freakin’ encyclopedia on Hashing and actually maintains an electronic library of Hash trails going back years. Still, I was a little surprised when he declined my offer to go out and do some scouting on Sunday. Instead, he sent me a map of his intended path and said we’d mark it Monday morning. Alrighty then.

So we gathered at the appointed hour (0800) at Johansson’s. Grabbed the jugs of powder, chalk, and shredded paper then caught a Jeepney to the trailhead in Olongapo City.

I personally prefer to not have to be transported to start a Hash run. As uncomfortable as a Jeepney might be, that f’n Hashmobile is much worse. I asked Scott what we’d do if the number of Hashers exceeded the Hash truck capacity and he just shrugged and said they could take a Jeepney. Again, it wasn’t my trail so I didn’t argue.

We came down from the first hill at a spot on the highway different from where Scott intended. He was able to recalibrate and shortly thereafter we began our second ascent of the day. And it was a steep motherfucker! Quite surprising really. Some Hares have a nasty reputation for killer trails. Old dudes like Scott and me are thought to be saner. Usually, that’s the case. Not so much yesterday, at least on the second hill.

One thing I did like about the trail was that we had a portion where we walked the beach.

Anyway, when it was all said and done the trail came in at 5.5 kilometers.

The feedback from the Hashers was mostly positive and with just a couple of exceptions, folks did not have difficulty following the trail. And most importantly, no one got injured. When I Hare I always worry about that. Heh, it’s kinda like being a parent I suppose. All’s well that ends well!

When I got back home after laying trail I was hungry. Had some leftover pulled pork in the fridge, so…

What else? Well, Facebook shared this memory from three years ago:

Up for a little political humor?

Okay, enough of that bullshit. I am fortunate to live in the Philippines from where most of the insanity back home can be ignored. Let’s cleanse our palate with a cute dog picture, shall we?

One of the floating bars (Kokomo’s) has just opened for the season. I think I’ll go welcome them back!

Honey came in and she caught me red-handed
Creeping with the girl next door
Picture this, we were both butt-naked, banging on the bathroom floor

How could I forget that I had
Given her an extra key
All this time she was standing there
She never took her eyes off me

How you can give your woman access to your villa?
Trespass and a-witness while you cling to your pillow
You better watch your back before she turn into a killer
Let’s review the situation that you caught up in a

To be a true player you have to know how to play
If she say a night, convince her say a day
Never admit to a word when she say
And if she claim, ah, you tell her, “Baby, no way”

But she caught me on the counter (It wasn’t me)
Saw me bangin’ on the sofa (It wasn’t me)
I even had her in the shower (It wasn’t me)
She even caught me on camera (It wasn’t me)

She saw the marks on my shoulder (It wasn’t me)
Heard the words that I told her (It wasn’t me)
Heard the scream get louder (It wasn’t me)
She stayed until it was over

Just a quick post before I head out to assist the Hare in marking the trail for today’s Hash. He asked if I’d help and I’d just as soon do trail in the morning as I would this afternoon.

Last night saw me back at Cheap Charlies. Thus far in the battle of the bars, I’m finding my comfort level higher in the familiar surroundings of CC. Plus I got a nice back rub from Maya in exchange for a couple of lady drinks. That’s about as good as it gets! Well, it gets LOTS better in my fantasies, but you know what I mean.

So, I just discovered that I can post GIFs here. I guess I’m a sick bastard, but this one cracked me up.:

Anyway, that’s all I’ve got for now.

…but I’ve been to Bar Celona.

Yep, last night I attended the grand opening of the newest bar in Barretto–Bar Celona. It’s a rooftop bar, similar to Cheap Charlies. Beers were a bargain at P50 ($1.00) each. They have a pool table, big-screen TVs, good music at a reasonable volume, and friendly staff. That’s a good combination for success! Speaking of staff, I recognized several employees who had previously worked at Cheap Charlies. Familiar faces on the first day of operation, can’t beat that!

Speaking of Cheap Charlies, the news isn’t good. As seen on one of the forums I frequent:

Popped into Foodies ( cottage pie historic!) and spoke to Tim. Graham’s massive stroke has killed 50% of his brain, so he is robbed of speech functions, memory and does not recognize anyone! He has no chance of recovery and the hope is he can be repatriated within the next 3 weeks, it will cost approximately £28k to get him back to Scotland, so his sister can take care of him. It’s a shame as he wouldn’t want to live in this state and I am sure you would agree that you wouldn’t let a dog suffer like this! 

A good reminder to us all to live each day for today, tomorrow may not come and we may not know it if it does. Sad for Graham.

Anyway, came home from the bar via trike, so I wasn’t feeling any pain. And waiting for me in the crockpot was some hot chili:

And finally, from my walk this morning:

Luckily I survived. In fact, it’s probably fair to say I’ve outlived them all now. What goes around comes around and I reckon my time is coming. But not yet!

Well, I’ve never been to Spain
But I kinda like the music
Say the ladies are insane there
And they sure know how to use it

They don’t abuse it
Never gonna lose it
I can’t refuse it

Just some stuff I’ve seen while I’ve been out and about.

And that’s the way I see things around here.

Step out the front door like a ghost
into the fog where no one notices
the contrast of white on white.
And in between the moon and you
the angels get a better view
of the crumbling difference between wrong and right.
I walk in the air between the rain
through myself and back again
Where? I don’t know
Maria says she’s dying
through the door I hear her crying
Why? I don’t know

Round here we always stand up straight
Round here something radiates

Another day, another journey. This time with the Wednesday Sausage Walkers group. Lately, I make a decision on whether to participate or not based on where the group is going and/or who is leading the group on that day. Now when it was announced we would ride the Hashmobile out to Gordon Heights in Olongapo City and then make our way up to Tralala, I normally would have been in a “thanks, but no thanks” mode. But there were a couple of other slow walkers in attendance so I decided what the hell and went along despite my reservations.

I’d done the climb to Tralala once before back in February. I swore back then “never again”. And all the way up this time I was swearing at myself for being so stupid as to consent to this replay. Ah well. According to my fitness tracker, we did a 400-meter ascent. I’d say two-thirds of that was steps, and the remainder a less arduous path meandering its way to the top. It was a challenge for this tired old man, that’s for sure.

And then finally we were done. I was so tired I only had two beers, then hoofed it on home. Took a nice nap and said fuck darts tonight.

I’m no Kevin Kim, that’s for sure. These past four days of strenuous (for me) activity make what Kevin is doing all the more impressive. My daily output is about 1/3 of what he’s doing routinely on his hike across South Korea. Well, if nothing else I’ve learned my limits.

I’m going to keep on walkin’, it’s what I do. At least when the sun is up. Nighttime is for rehydration, and beer seems to do the trick.

Look at the time! I need to get my afternoon steps in. I’m going to take it slow, flat, and easy today though.

Thanks for following along!

UPDATE: Okay, now this is kinda funny. I used the “there and back again” title once before, back in April 2017. That post was in recognition of Kevin Kim’s beginning a walk from Seoul to Busan. The more things change, the more they remain the same.

My third Hash event in three days is in the books. Now, the Bundok Hash is a once a year thing here and it’s “special”. Well, special in a way that I am duty-bound to not discuss publicly. Suffice to say it is limited in attendance to 22 brave souls who are biologically male. I met those stringent conditions and had the money required (P3500/$70) to participate. And so I did.

Now, it was like other Hashes in the sense that it did involve a walk/run and beer drinking. The Hares advised that the long trail was around 8K and the short trail was 4K. There was also a beer stop set up 2K into the hike.

Okay, well. I opted to do the long hike. And as usual, the runners and faster walkers soon disappeared way out in front of me. The trail began in familiar territory going through my subdivision and down into the small village of Marian Hills. That’s where the beer truck was parked and waiting. Now, I didn’t see the wisdom in providing beer so early in the hike, but so be it. What was surprising was that just me and another slow walker, Cannonball, were at the truck. I asked the Hares where the runners were and was told that we were the first to arrive. That didn’t make sense at all.

I found out later that everyone in front of me had missed the trail in Alta Vista, and went off on a tangent of some sort. In fact, NO ONE else made it to the beer stop at all. The only explanation was that the trail markings were confusing. In one sense they were–the short trail was simply to the beer truck and back. And the Hare had arrows going in both directions. I had correctly surmised this is what was going on so I had continued on the proper path. So, suffice to say this was a pretty major boondoggle. A Hare should always avoid having the trail cross over itself to ensure this kind of confusion doesn’t happen. And having the beer stop at the beginning of a long hike is also stupid. I had one beer and then a decision to make.

I chose to continue on with the long hike but planned to short cut as needed. The arrows pointed up to a familiar path and eventually intersected with My Bitch, so I figured I’d been well within my comfort zone. Cannonball opted to come along with me. Now, Cannonball is built like, well, a cannonball. Big and round. He asked if it was a hard trail and I responded that there was one moderate uphill and then it should all flat or downhill back to Barretto. So off we went.

Well, Cannonball struggled mightily with the uphill. I had to help him up in a couple of spots (I usually come down this way, so the climbing was a bit more difficult than expected). It was slow going, but we eventually made it to the top without an accident. My plan at this point given the time was to shortcut down to Columban College and then walk the streets back to our on-home at Hot Zone. Alas, I somehow missed the proper downhill trail and found that we were taking the path that leads to Rizal Extension. Oh well, it just added thirty minutes or so to the hike. Food was served at 5:00 and we arrived at 5:15. They saved us some.

We were later recognized as being DFL (dead fucking last) and required to sit on the ice for that sin. I did note that we were the only two in attendance who had walked the actual trail, but of course, no one cared.

Another boondoggle was with something I can’t really discuss here. The Bundok euphemism is “software”. So, we’ll just say there was a software problem. The Grand Master had mentioned a week or so ago that he was short on software and I told him no problem, I’d bring my own. Well, I guess things resolved in the interim and he had plenty of software to go around, but I had already made arrangements for mine to be, um, delivered. When it was he got pissed and got in my face yelling some, but in the end, it worked out. My software performed well and the Grand Master apologized.

And I guess that enough about the Bundok. Oh, I did get this nifty shirt:

And then there was this warning label inside the shirt:

Maybe I’ve said too much already.

Peace out!

Quite an event yesterday in celebration of the SBH3 26th anniversary. 121 Hashers in attendance, the third largest gathering in the history of our group. Normal attendance is usually 30-40, so it was something to behold. Logistically it was a bit of a nightmare. We had the Hashmobile and two Jeepneys on hand for transportation, and that wasn’t enough so they had to make two trips. I got “lucky” and got on one of the first Jeeps, but it broke down a bit short of the trail, so I had to walk a little more at the beginning. I wound up shortcutting on the end, so I guess it all balanced out.

The on-home of course was packed and the line for the provided food (tacos and chili) was long. I wound up leaving before the circle was completed. I was in a pissy mood about something non-Hash related. Wound up hitting some bars and getting pretty damn drunk. Oh well, all the nights can’t be good ones I suppose.

Another Hash this afternoon, the Bundok. This one is for males only and promises to be a little, shall we say, spicier. We’ll see. Maybe it will help get me out of this piss poor mood.

Yesterday I participated in the Angeles City Hash House Harriers 41st-anniversary run. It was my second time joining an AC Hash; I was also there for last year’s anniversary. Six fellow Subic Hashers made the journey with me, filling my driver’s vehicle to capacity. The actual trail we hiked was about 45 minutes outside of AC near the town of Porac. I am firmly in the camp of “it’s good to see something new,” so I enjoyed that aspect of the trip. I’ll let the pictures tell the story.

Anyway, I was not impressed with the AC Hash. Attending once a year is more than enough for me.

Today we celebrate the Subic Bay Hash 26th anniversary. I’m sure it will be much more fun than I had yesterday. Stay tuned!

My life but not my death, fortunately. Still, perspective is a wonderful thing. Mundane and routine are actually quite nice when you consider the potentially fatal alternatives.

Alright, let’s get the bad out of the way. We had a pretty gruesome murder event yesterday that has reverberated throughout our small town.

Police are looking into a restaurant business deal as one of the possible motives for the killing of  Anthony George Wilson, 61, an Australian national and Mila Bailey, 41, a Filipina inside their car in Olongapo City Friday.

The companion of the victims who was driving the car, Wayne Bailey, 71, was wounded.

The suspect in the shooting was identified as Michael McLaren, the fourth passenger in the vehicle, who escaped but was later on arrested.
According to Olongapo Police chief, Police Colonel Benjamin Sembrano,  McLaren allegedly bought a hotel and restaurant from the Baileys through cash.

The victims were business owners here in Barretto. One owned the Gum Leaves Resort and another the Crazy Horse bar. I did not know either of them. What is very unusual is that this is apparently a foreigner-on-foreigner crime, something that is almost unheard of in these parts. I mean, when you can hire a hitman for $100, why do the dirty work yourself?

Meanwhile, in my non-violent world, here’s what’s happening:

A third-place finish in darts last night. That’s not bad considering I wasn’t consistently on my game and my partner couldn’t hit shit. On a shingle or otherwise. I did manage another ton-80 though. Win or lose, I honestly don’t care. I’m at that stage of my “career” where I just want to have fun.

Some speculate that this is intended to be Halloween decorations. I doubt that though as Halloween is not really a thing here. Besides, we are well into the Christmas decorations and carols season (that starts on September 1–the “ber” months as they are called).

An interesting hike it was. I didn’t get “lost” lost, just missed my intended trail and wound up on one that I wasn’t sure where it led. It eventually led me back down off the mountain in a place I hadn’t been before. Well, I mean, it was in Barretto, just not a neighborhood I’d walked. Might have some potential for a future Hash trail. We’ll see.

Speaking of the Hash, I’m going to Angeles City tomorrow to participate in the ACH3 41st-anniversary run. We have our 26th anniversary run in Subic on Monday, and on Tuesday I’ll be doing the Bundok Hash. I’m no Kevin Kim, but that’s a lot of walking in store for me.

I don’t own a car here, but if I did this is how I’d like to see it washed:

Now I’ll have to be really careful to avoid a fall.

As I alluded to in yesterday’s post, I executed a search for a lost trail. Anyhow, I made the bottom-up approach work where I had failed earlier when trying to go top to bottom. It wasn’t easy and I can understand better why it didn’t work out the other day. At the bottom portion of the trail, I didn’t have to deal with that tall thatch grass, but it didn’t look like anyone had been using that path for several months. Covered in leaves and branches and the like. At one point I literally had to tear my way through fallen tree limbs. I couldn’t find the trail the other day because it no longer even looks like a trail. What a pain in the ass it was, but my pride would not allow another failure. At least this time I was pretty confident I’d find my way up without killing myself. And I was right!

My nephew Justin returned from his trip to Manila last night. He’d been there to secure his new work visa from the Korean embassy and was successful in that endeavor. So we did some celebrating with a small bar crawl that was quite pleasant.

I guess I don’t really talk much about the nightlife here, but other than special events like the SOB there’s not much to say. For me anyway, it’s all about the enjoyment of some cold beers after walking so hard during the day. But here’s a brief recap of our night on the town.

Justin took the bus from Manila to Olongapo, then caught a Jeepney that dropped him off in Barretto. I was waiting for him in Cheap Charlies when he arrived. We had some beers for ourselves and Rosemarie and Maya enjoyed some lady drinks in exchange for their pleasant company. We also ordered up some food and shared with the girls who by all appearances must have been hungry indeed!

We then left Cheap Charlies for a bar I very rarely visit–Coco Lips. It’s a girly bar with dancers and loud music which is really not my thing. But I’m friends with a woman who recently started working there as a waitress. Michelle was very happy to see us and of course, we had her join us for some lady drinks. She and Justin actually seemed to hit it off quite well. I held out as long as my ears could tolerate the music, then we moved on down the highway to Alley Cats.

There were no customers when we walked in and Justin’s favorite bargirl, Jerlyn, wasn’t working. I rang the bell (buying all the girls a drink) to liven things up some. The girls rely on drink commissions so it was nice to see their smiles as they enjoyed their beverages. Justin really started pounding the beers (three to my one!) which made me a little nervous, so I suggested we head on home. After we got outside he wanted to pop into Queen Victoria bar to see a girl named Sally. What the hell, the boy is on vacation so I relented.

While Justin spent some time with his favorite I chatted with the bartender and wound up buying her a drink as well. As starved as the bargirls may get for drink commissions, it can be worse for the person behind the bar who is often overlooked. Anyway, she was pleased which pleased me. It was now well past my bedtime, so I told Justin it was time for me to go. He came along and he was surprised when I called for a trike instead of walking home. Yeah, I was pretty drunk.

So, there you have what a night on the town looks like. We made several girls really happy and including the food, I spent maybe $70. Back in my Korea days, I’d spend that much just on me. A normal night here I’d be hard-pressed to drop twenty bucks in the bar. It’s definitely cheaper in the Philippines, which makes it easy to be generous. Everyone wins!

Here are some photos from my hiking adventure yesterday: