Greetings from the Philippines. And as I write this I’m currently sitting safely at home. Stick around for an explanation of this post’s title.

A very busy day in the life yesterday. Going backward in time, here’s how it went down:

I played darts last night for the first time in a couple of weeks. I was quite surprised at my performance overall. I threw the rare (for me) ton-80 (three triple 20s = 180 points, the highest score possible) and was rewarded with a free drink coupon. More importantly, I guess, my partner and I went undefeated on the night, including a hard-fought win against Steve, the Englishman who doesn’t drink.

Waiting patiently at home for me was this:

My Wednesday started with the normal dog walking routine, then I headed out to join the Sausage Walkers for our weekly hike.

So, it was much more fun than I had on my solo hike on Tuesday afternoon. I took the familiar My Bitch trail but was looking for the turn-off path that leads back down into Marian Hills and onward to my home in the Alta Vista subdivision. But damn, that fuckin’ thatch grass was so thick and tall I couldn’t find the trail. Couldn’t see the path for the grass as it were. I mean, I knew I was at the junction (a stand of banana trees is my landmark) so I bravely dove into the wild thinking surely I’d find a way down, if not the way. I spent about 30 minutes at it and then got paranoid. Yeah, I was pretty much lost and thinking about all the bad things that could potentially happen to me, like stepping off a cliff. I realized that were I to get hurt, no one would find me. So, prudence prevailed and I carefully retreated. Once back up top, I continued on to Rizal Extension and the long-ass walk back to my house. What I thought would be a one hour walk turned out to be 2.5 hours long.

Anyway, this afternoon I’m going back. But this time I’m going to work my way up from the bottom. I’ll find that f’n trail or die trying! So, I guess this might be goodbye…

Come down off your throne and leave your body alone
Somebody must change
You are the reason I’ve been waiting so long
Somebody holds the key

But I’m near the end and I just ain’t got the time
And I’m wasted and I can’t find my way home

Come down on your own and leave your body alone
Somebody must change
You are the reason I’ve been waiting all these years
Somebody holds the key

But I’m near the end and I just ain’t got the time
And I’m wasted and I can’t find my way home

But I can’t find my way home
But I can’t find my way home
But I can’t find my way home
But I can’t find my way home
Still I can’t find my way home
And I ain’t done nothing wrong
But I can’t find my way home

A long but satisfying day yesterday. Up and out early in order to lay the trail for the 1,370th running of the Subic Bay Hash House Harriers. By most accounts those efforts were successful. As a Hare, I hold myself responsible for setting a course that is clearly marked, relatively fun, and does not needlessly place life or limbs in jeopardy. By that standard, I’m satisfied with the afternoon’s results. No one got seriously lost, folks expressed enjoyment at seeing relatively new terrain, and everyone made it back on-home without injury. Woo Hoo! Let’s go to the pictures, shall we?

So, with the trail completed we refreshed ourselves at Johan’s then headed home. I had some lunch and a nap, then made my way out to Johansson’s for the start of the Hash.

I got a haircut (more on that in a minute) then made my way to Johan’s to await the arrival of the returning Hashers.

It was a good Hash if I do say so myself.

As I mentioned above, I got a haircut yesterday. That’s something I do once a month or so. I normally just tell my barber to “clean it up” and he gives me a nice trim. Well, my regular barber wasn’t there and his replacement gave my head a good going over. A Filipino-style cut if you will.

Anyway, it’s all good. The haircut was P60 ($1.20) and I tipped my barber P40 for all his hard work. Hell, maybe I can even go two months between cuts this way.

Maybe my life isn’t paradise, but it’s close enough for me.

UPDATE: Well, I see I used the “a close shave” title for a post I wrote five years ago on the occasion of shaving off my beard.

A nothing burger kind of day around here. Yeah, yeah, what else is new? Accompanied Justin to the bus station in Olongapo City. So I did get to “enjoy” the excitement of a Jeepney ride. The timing was impeccable though. Justin purchased his ticket and walked right on to the bus waiting to transport him to Manila.

I don’t get downtown very often, so I thought I’d take advantage of my geography and visit the new mall in town. I got there about thirty minutes prior to opening time, so I strolled around the local area. Nothing really wrong with it, but let’s just say I’m glad to be living in Barretto!

Anyway, the mall features four floors of malliness, and it’s all new and clean and full of goods waiting to be consumed. Speaking of consumption, probably the thing I liked best was the restaurants, including a grilled meat Korean place and an all-you-can-eat steakhouse. The only thing I ate this morning though was a Krispy Kreme donut. It had been a while since I’ve indulged that particular sweet tooth and I couldn’t resist the opportunity. Otherwise, there was nothing at the new mall that would warrant a special trip out there. I like the mall on the old Navy base better and it’s closer as well.

I didn’t see any other foreigners at the mall this morning. It was a little disconcerting when an older Filipina came up to me and asked me if I had served in the military. I told her no and asked her why and she explained her retired military husband had died and his pension had stopped. I honestly don’t know anything about how that works and suggested she contact someone at the Veterans Administration or a local VFW chapter. She kinda just shrugged, thanked me, and went on her way. I just now looked it up and unless the retiree opts for a survivor benefit, the widow gets no money. I suspect that is what happened here.

I did come across a group of white people standing around inside the mall and I did my best to blend in with them.

I didn’t notice at the time of the photo but I see now that they aren’t exactly dressed appropriately for the Philippines. No idea why a store would even stock such items. Good luck to that retailer!

And there you have another installment in the adventure that is my life in the Philippines.

It was a beautiful day for a Hash, that’s for sure. I do believe the rainy season may have left us a little early this year. Not complaining. Well, it was a tad warm out in the sunshine I suppose.

As I mentioned above, this was Justin’s fifth time Hashing. In accordance with Hash traditions, he was ripe for naming. And at the conclusion of the naming ritual, he was anointed with the moniker of “My Girlfriend’s a Lesbian”. It’s a long story…

And for yours truly, this was my 69th Hash.

And so ended another day on trail.

Backstage the girls were playing five card stud by the stairs
Lily had two queens she was hoping for a third to match her pair
Outside the streets were filling up, the window was open wide
A gentle breeze was blowing, you could feel it from inside
Lily called another bet and drew up the Jack of Hearts.

Eh, that post title was funnier in my head than it is in pixels. Oh well.

The news from Cheap Charlies is that the restaurant has brought back the former menu, including meat pies.

“Guess what just got back today……. The Pies Are back In Town”
Yes our famous meat pies are back! Yes they are not round like before (no stock of round pie cases) But the same great taste and filling as before. Of course gravy?? Yess the real stuff! 😋🤤🥧. Only here at Foodies Restaurant and Cheap Charlies Bar.

So, the trend of undoing everything the owner Graham had instituted prior to his stroke continues. Mind you, I agree that these changes are for the better, but it just seems odd somehow. The only news I have about Graham is from the CC Facebook page:

Once again a huge thank you to everyone who has donated so far, your donations really do make a difference and it is so much appreciated. Graham is still stable in ICU, we have purchased a Bed Sore mattress for him to prevent him from getting bed sores, as currently he is unable to turn in bed. He is still being intubated and being fed through the nose. Graham is responding to people when spoken too by opening his eyes and squeezing with his left hand. The fever he had seems to have now subsided and was caused by tubes in his arm giving him discomfort. These Tubes have now been re positioned. We currently think that Graham could be in ICU at least another week for monitoring. I personally will be going to see him again the early part of next week and will be talking to the doctors about his rehabilitation etc. Once again many thanks to everyone. 

It doesn’t sound good to me, but here’s hoping for the best.

Anyway, this post is about the pies. Cheap Charlies was rumored to have the best in town, but before I ever got the chance to try one, Foodies had closed. When they eventually reopened they weren’t on the menu. But as mentioned above, now they are back.

Here’s how the pie looks on Facebook:

This is what I was served at the bar last night:

So, how was it? A little disappointing actually. I got the chicken and mushroom version. It was plenty meaty inside, and tasty enough. But it was cold in the middle. Not sure how that happens, unless maybe they were microwaving pre-made pies. The gravy was hot enough to warm up the cold portions so as to be edible, but still.

As things stand I cannot say Foodies has satisfied my quest to find the best pie in town. I’ll give them another shot (it was Sunday night, so maybe the regular cook was off) before passing final judgment.

But if an unsatisfactory pie is the most I have to complain about I’d say life is pretty damn good. I mean, it’s not like getting struck by lightning while walking the dogs like this guy was.

Speaking of dogs, at the SOB dance contest Friday night, the Alaska team incorporated a puppy into their act. I found it very off-putting and as a judge, I deducted a full point off their score because I thought it was cruel. On one of the forums, the owner couldn’t understand why his team’s string of home bar victories had been broken. I mentioned I thought using the dog was wrong and people said I was overreacting. One guy said he was amused because the pup looked so “astonished”. I responded that it looked terrified to me. Anyway, someone else posted a video of that portion of the act. I’m sharing it here and welcome your opinion on the matter:

Such is life.

Well, technically we were at the SOB dance competition, but you know what I mean.

Anyway, it had been quite a while since I’ve attended an SOB and it was a nice way to welcome Justin back to town. One of the raffle prizes I won was for a free night’s lodging at the Treasure Island Resort. Something I don’t personally need, but it gave me an idea. I’ve mentioned my support for a friend with five kids as my current charity project. I figured a day at the beach/pool is something they might enjoy. So I booked a room in her name and made their day. Which makes mine too. Funny how that works.

Yesterday morning we joined a group hike out to Castillejos (pronounced Cast-till-lay-hos, I’d been saying it wrong, although I guess as a reader you wouldn’t have known that). It’s about 10K west of Barretto.

And that’s about as far as we got. See, the thing about the non-Hash hikes is that we are more or less winging it. And sometimes the trail just doesn’t pan out. Once we were at the summit, the trail, such as it was, disappeared in the tall thatch grasses. After some discussion, we elected to retreat and retrace our steps back down the mountain. I really hate having to do that, but I was on board with the decision to do so. Just wasn’t worth the risk of getting lost. Or worse.

Anyway, we had somewhere to be after our hike. The Roadhouse bar in Castillejos (there, I pronounced it right that time). Yeah, we needed some beers, but this was also for a special event. Some of the Hash girls (Harriettes) have started a business making a liqueur beverage. So they have been going to various establishments giving out samples and selling their wares. They call their company “Creme De Crop”, which may not be grammatically correct, but what do I know?

But we weren’t quite done yet. Pubic Head mentioned another bar up the highway called The Goat Locker. It’s run by a retired Navy guy. And Goat Locker turns out to be Navy jargon for a galley on-board ship. You learn something new every day.

The Goat Locker was a small and friendly place and we enjoyed a couple more beers there. There Creme De Crop gals came down and sold the locals several more bottles of their concoction. A successful afternoon indeed!

And life goes ever onward. Until it doesn’t. Just gonna enjoy the ride while it lasts.

Well, you can rock it you can roll it
You can stop and you can stroll it at the hop
When the record starts spinnin’
You chalypso when you chicken at the hop
Do the dance sensation that is sweepin’ the nation at the hop

Ah, let’s go to the hop
Let’s go to the hop, (oh baby)
Let’s go to the hop, (oh baby)
Let’s go to the hop
Come on, let’s go to the hop

Well, you can swing it you can groove it
You can really start to move it at the hop
Where the jockey is the smoothest
And the music is the coolest at the hop
All the cats and chicks can get their kicks at the hop

Let’s go!
Let’s go to the hop
Let’s go to the hop, (oh baby)
Let’s go to the hop, (oh baby)
Let’s go to the hop

Back from my whirlwind trip to Angeles City with the nephew safely on board. It was a long night though. Justin’s flight wasn’t due to arrive until 0215, but I had my driver pick me up at 7:00 p.m. I figured I’d get some dinner and a taste of AC ambiance while waiting.

I actually started out at Cheap Charlies and had my driver meet me there. The place was packed and rockin’. When we arrived in AC, I treated my driver to dinner at one of my old-time favorites, Tequila Reef. There was a brownout (no electricity) in town, but the Reef was running a generator. Power was restored about 30 minutes later.

We sat outside where we were permitted to smoke or vape and do some people watching on the street. There was a sign on the table saying to push the button on the wall for service. I did that but received no response, so I pushed it again. One of the other diners advised that the button was out of order and he suggested I flail my arms about until someone inside notices me. Hmm, that didn’t work either. In frustration I went inside and asked what I needed to do to be served, mentioning that the button and attention-seeking had been to no avail. “Sorry sir, the button isn’t in operation now” was the response. Sheesh. I took a piss, came out of the CR, and noticed there were STILL no menus at my table. I again tracked down a waitress and pleaded for service (I was pretty damn hungry by now).

Tequila Reef has a varied menu, but they specialize in Mexican food. I accordingly ordered up the enchilada platter.

After the meal, I took a walk down, well, Walking Street. Not much had changed since my last visit and I wasn’t tempted by any of the girly bar action on offer. Instead, I walked up the road a bit to a little outdoor bar I had enjoyed previously. I was disappointed to discover that the girl I was fond of back then wasn’t working. In fact, only one gal was working and she was pretty much worthless at providing even a minimum level of service. I should have left after the first beer, but I couldn’t be bothered. After sitting there with an empty beer bottle for the second time, I got up and went back to where she was fooling around with some paperwork. “Are you mad at me?” I asked. She gave me a look of incomprehension, so I said: “I’ve been waiting and waiting for you to bring me another beer”. She said something about being there by herself as if that was a valid excuse. The place was not busy at all–two customers besides me. So I got my beer and she grudgingly continued to provide refills upon request (meaning she never offered). Ah well, another reminder of why I dislike Angeles City.

Around midnight, I rustled up my driver and we went to the airport. Justin had messaged me from Incheon that his flight was delayed by an hour. So, I set my alarm for 3:00 a.m. and napped. Justin exited the terminal at 3:30 and we hit the highway for home, arriving here at 5:00. I was exhausted and went straight to bed, but the dogs had me up before 7:00 to tend to their needs. Justin came downstairs around 10:00 and I grilled up some steaks and we had a nice brunch. Then he joined me on a 1.5 hour beach walk. Afterward, I had a good nap and have probably put you to sleep now with this post. Situation normal here at LTG!

I’ll take Justin to the SOB dance contest tonight. Tomorrow morning we will hike in Castillejos, then join some Hash friends at the Roadhouse bar there.

And now, as promised in the title of this post, let me share some more memes I came across:

I’ve had just about enough of this! I’m sure you have too. I’ll leave you with one of my favorite songs from the 1970s. Beto’s remarks about gun violence in Ohio brought it to mind.

Tin soldiers and Nixon coming,
We’re finally on our own.
This summer I hear the drumming,
Four dead in Ohio.

Gotta get down to it
Soldiers are cutting us down
Should have been done long ago.
What if you knew her
And found her dead on the ground
How can you run when you know?

UPDATE: It occurs to me that what I’ve posted are political cartoons, not memes. Which of course destroys the whole premise of the catchy tune I used as a title for this post. Oh well.

Nothing much new to report. Well, my nephew, Justin, is coming for a quick visit/visa run. His plane arrives in Angeles City at 2:15 in the morning, so I’ll be making a trip to the airport tonight.

I did half a Wednesday Sausage Walkers hike yesterday.

Anyway, I feel like a wimp for not completing the hike, but damn, when it stops being fun, what’s the point? Meanwhile, Kevin Kim is trudging away from one end of Korea to the other, walking through persistent pain, heat, and rain. Why does he do it?

I’ll tell you why: because compared to sitting in a shoebox of an office, clickety-clacking at a keyboard for eight hours a day, walking long distances imbues us with a sense of purpose and accomplishment. We feel as if we’ve done something that has meaning and value, and we reap the fruits of such labor immediately. We can write material for an English workbook, but we have no clue whether the kids who use our material have been positively affected or influenced by it. By contrast, when we walk thirty kilometers, we feel as if we’ve done something. In the meantime, the simplicity of walking allows the mind to open itself up to the sounds of the world, to Mother Nature and her cacophonous children (yes, even the hairless primates with their loud, polluting technology are her children), who are teaching us something new at every moment. Walking is meditation, and it’s a way of reconnecting with the beating heart of the universe. There are other ways of touching such depth, of course; I’m not claiming that walking is something everyone must do. But if you want to know why I engage in distance walking, well, that’s why. Or that’s one reason, anyway.

There is something to be said for the social aspect of group walking, but I guess I’ve just come to prefer walking where I want, when I want, at the difficulty level my tired old bones can best tolerate. So, I’m thinking I’ll do the Hash on Monday and only an occasional Sausage walk in the future.

I did enjoy this guy’s company on my morning walk today:

I was very heartened to learn that science recognizes and supports my healthy lifestyle. If this article is to be believed anyway.

Doctors are recommending that people drink EIGHT glasses of alcohol every day to help stave off the horror that is reality.

A new study found that 100% of people who drank eight glasses of alcohol every day were significantly happier than those who didn’t.

‘The results were incredible. The sober control group were absolutely miserable while those who drank a large quantity of alcohol were in a great mood, albeit with some bouts of violence,’ Dr Drinkwater told us.
With reality becoming increasingly difficult to face, doctors now believe that everyone should up their alcohol intake so we can all ride it out together.

‘It’s easy to do. Just put a shot of vodka in every coffee. Or, better yet, replace water with vodka altogether,’ said another doctor.

However, people are being told that regular consumption of high quantities of alcohol could lead to an early death.

Whether that’s a promise or a warning isn’t yet known.

I guess we’ll find out.

On the political front, I did enjoy these memes:

That’s just about all for now. But I never want to close a post without always imparting some words of wisdom.

“Always and never are two words you should always remember never to use.”

Get it? Got it. Good.

I’ve mentioned the above-named bar in passing several times on the blog, but I don’t recall ever talking much about the place itself and how it operates. I guess the best place to start is to talk about the kind of bar it is not.

In Barretto, there are different types of bars catering to the specific tastes and interests of their customers. Most ubiquitous are the “girly” or “go-go” bars. This type of establishment features scantily clad young women dancing on a stage for your entertainment. If you see a gal you like you can ask her to join you at your table for a drink. These drinks cost at least twice as much as a customer drink and some of that price difference goes to the girl as a commission. Many bars have a minimum quota of drinks the girls must have bought for them in order to earn their full salary. In some of these bars, the girls can be quite aggressive in their pursuit of a lady drink.

The dancers (and waitresses for that matter) in these girly bars are also available for “take out”. In other words, they are prostitutes. Now, prostitution is technically illegal in the Philippines, so it is not called that. What happens is this: you see a girl you fancy, call her down for a drink, and if things click, you negotiate with the girl a price for her to accompany you “short-time” (two or three hours) or “long-time” (overnight). My understanding is that the going rate is somewhere between P2000-P4000 ($40-$80) depending on the girl and your negotiating skills. Out of that amount, the girl must pay a “barfine” of around P750 for an early work release. The idea is that once the girl and the guy leave the bar, whatever happens between two consenting adults is nobody’s business but their own.

Anyway, I’m personally not into paying for sex. I might spend an hour or two a week in a girly bar. I occasionally buy a lady drink and have a chat with a girl, as much out of sympathy as anything else. I honestly do feel sorry for the girls, it has got to be a tough job. Dancing all night, hoping you attract enough attention to meet your lady drink quota. I find it all somewhat depressing somehow. When I first visited the Philippines, I questioned whether I was actively participating in the exploitation of these young women. In the end, I decided I was not. None of the girls have been forced into this life (and none are required to go with a customer). They’ve chosen to be a bargirl because it was their best option to earn decent money for their families (most of the gals have kids at home). When the do-gooders come to town and have the bars raided and shut down as dens of prostitution, no one cares what happens to the girls who are now unemployed. Some of them wind up on the street in much worse circumstances.

A “hostess bar” is another kind of bar you most frequently see in our little town. These bars employ GRO’s (guest relations officers), a fancy name for a bargirl who works for lady drink commissions. In most cases, these girls are not available for takeout/barfine. Depending on the bar, the girls can also be quite aggressive in their pursuit of earning money from drinks. Some guys call these gals drink sluts. I won’t frequent a bar where I’m harassed for a drink. And while I’m relatively generous when it comes to buying lady drinks, I prefer to offer rather than be asked. Sometimes I enjoy a bargirl’s company, other times I want to drink alone. That’s just how I roll, and in the bars where I’m a regular, the girls understand that.

So, back to Cheap Charlies. It’s an open-air rooftop bar, currently, the only one of its kind in Barretto (another similar bar will be opening soon across the street). They play a variety of good songs (customer requests are accepted) through a quality sound system, with the accompanying music video on a large screen TV. And there are great views to be enjoyed, along with watching the people pass by on the highway.

Cheap Charlies always had a lot of GRO’s working for drinks, but they were almost never aggressive about it. In fact, it was specifically against the rules to ask a customer for anything. That worked great for me, when I wanted to be alone I got left alone. And I had my favorites when I wanted some chat with my drink. Until last week when the bar made this big announcement:

Big changes at Cheap Charlies Bar today. We want and have always wanted the bar to be a space for customers to relax, socialise and have fun, against a backdrop of good customer service and great music. We also want staff to enjoy and take pride in their work. But ladies drinks and entertaining impede all of that.

Today, Cheap Charlies Bar enters a new era. No more ladies drinks and no more entertaining. From here on in, for us it’s all about music, friends and fun.

Some people liked the change in policy, others like me were very much opposed. So, overnight the bar went from having 10-15 GROs to employing just four waitresses who were not allowed to sit with customers or accept individual tips. That tipping thing also pissed me off. I don’t like a community tip jar, I want to tip the person who serves me directly. When that option is taken away, I’m not inclined to tip at all. Also, all my previous favorites were no longer employed at the bar. I started counting the days until the new bar across the street opens.

The day after the big announcement, Graham, who owns the bar and with whom I’m slightly acquainted, suffered a massive stroke. He’s still in the ICU unit in Pampangna (no hospital here could accommodate his needs, which is scary in and of itself). They say there is a “magic hour” for stroke victims to be treated, Graham was not admitted to a hospital for almost eight. Here’s hoping he gets lucky and has a successful recovery. I fear he has a long and difficult road ahead.

I’m not sure who’s running the bar in Graham’s absence. But the couple of times I was in there after the big change, it was a lot less busy. One night there was only a solitary bakla (transgender female) present to keep the four male customers company (I took a pass, although she was quite friendly). But what was really noticeable was that there was just an entirely different vibe without all the girls present. I missed their laughing and goofing around. Frankly, it felt boring in the bar without them around. Someone else must have noticed as well because there was a new announcement this week:

To All Our Valued Customers
All we want to do here at Cheap Charlies Bar for the best interest of our customers and staff for them to have fun and enjoy in a relax and friendly environment. The staff and customers are important to us and their opinion to help us improve our service.

That’s why we want to bring back the fun environment and we will bring the ladies drink back starts on Monday. With this please visit us for a company or just to relax and drink.

Come at Cheap Charlies on Monday and if you buy 3 drinks for yourself, your 4th drink will be free.

We also like and planning to do special promo every once a week. Cheers

Now, that is right off their Facebook page. Obviously, the person who posted this big change announcement is not a master of English (like I’m one to talk, right?). I suspect it comes from Graham’s Filipino girlfriend, but that’s pure speculation on my part. I know Graham didn’t make the change because he remains incapacitated and incommunicado at the hospital. Still, it’s a good move in my opinion. And based on the crowd last night, I’m not alone in that viewpoint. And best of all, two of my all-time favorites are back at the bar (they had both left long before the recent upheaval).

Heh, I just did a quick search and see that I wrote about Maya before. Rosemarie had moved to Manila several months ago and now she’s back. Funny story about her. Some long-ago day I was out on one of my walks and passing through one of the poorer sections of town. Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted a young woman’s backside. As I enjoyed the view she turned around and gave me a big smile. “Hello, John,” she said. I was dumbfounded and had no idea who she was. Seeing my confusion, she told me “I work at Cheap Charlies”. So, it took me a few visits before I could find that ass face again, but ever since I’ve enjoyed sharing a drink with her.

I wound up buying both girls three drinks each last night. Welcome back to Cheap Charlies! All is again right with the world. Or at least my little corner of it.

Survived another Hash day. Was geared up to tackle whatever the Hare, Leech My Nuggets, threw at me. But not in the rain. And it started to rain before the Hashmobile reached the drop-off point. So I and a handful of others opted to make our own trail, avoiding any dangerous climbs.

It wasn’t hard to do that because I’ll be damned if Leech didn’t lay the trail in Calapacuan–the very area I’d been scouting for the October 14 Hash. Leech even did Black Rock mountain yesterday, the one we had rejected as too dangerous. And that was BEFORE the rain! Ah well, we did a very nice flat trail at 7+K and rejoined the Leech’s chosen path after the mountainous parts.

I always feel bad when I don’t respect the trail the Hare worked hard at providing. But having said that, I’m 64 years old and I’d like to make it to 65. I’ve made up my mind to put my safety first during the Hash. And that means I’m not climbing mountains during a rainstorm. Tough titties said the kitty, but the milk’s okay.

Now I’ve got to figure out how to salvage a trail when I Hare in two weeks.

Stay tuned!

My usual morning stroll, but I consciously kept my eyes wide open despite the familiar surroundings. This is what I saw:

Time marches on, and so do I.

That’s one thing about being retired. All the days are pretty much the same and you can do pretty much whatever you please. Still, you tend to fall into a rhythm associated with activities that normally occur on any given day. Yesterday featured the Wednesday Sausage Walkers group followed by the darts tourney at Alley Cats.

Regarding the darts, I confess that I have not been motivated to practice. But you wouldn’t know it based on the way I threw last night. Most of my throws were on target and I was consistently hitting my “out” shots. Of course, it didn’t hurt that I drew Christy, the top female player in Barretto as my partner. We were expected to win and we didn’t disappoint. In fact, we never lost a leg, winning all our matches 2-0 in the best of three format.

I was more tired than usual because the Wednesday walk was pretty strenuous. We climbed the “big” mountain that separates Barretto from Olongapo City. By big, I mean that the mountain My Bitch crosses is approximately 100 meters of uphill. Our hike yesterday was around 250 meters of elevation. It being sunny and hot didn’t make it any easier, but I was still glad to not be hiking in the rain.

Anyway, with the improved weather, we had a big turnout of walkers, twelve all told. Nice scenery as usual and only one injury. For some inexplicable reason, someone had strung a strand of barbed wire across the trail–at head height. Gunter, who was leading the pack, walked right into it (like most of us do, he was looking down at the trail so didn’t see the wire). He got a gash on his forehead, but it didn’t appear deep enough for stitches. I teased he’d make a good Frankenstein for Halloween. Ah well, it can always be worse.

Here are some photos from the day’s march:

And that was my Wednesday.

Well, not cotton. But that irritating wild grass that towers over my head and makes hiking more difficult does have a name: talahib. At least that is what the Filipinos call it. Scientists say Saccharum spontaneum, and us English speaking folks might call it thatch grass or fodder cane. Whatever the name, it is a pain in the ass.

On my dog walking excursion this morning, I took note of the thatch grass growing throughout the neighborhood. From the vantage point of the pavement, I could better appreciate it’s beauty. Like the photo above, the grass here has gone into its “blossoming” phase.

Anyway, it was just another example of looking for new within the routine.

I did the Wednesday walking group this morning. I’ve got some photos of that to post tomorrow. Right now, I need to head out for darts. But before I go, let me share this:

A girl at the bar showed me a picture of her mother. I said “wow you look like identical twins”. After a pause, she said “Yes, we were separated at birth.”

Run #1367 of the Subic Bay Hash House Harriers is in the books. And for the first time in weeks and weeks, the rain was not a factor. In fact, after three straight days of sunshine, the trail was almost dry. It was a pleasant day to hike, even if I was drenched in sweat.

Now, once we came down that first mountain I was on very familiar turf–yep, it was My Bitch. So I was pretty confident I knew where we were heading–Rizal Extension. My only concern was the last time I’d hiked that way the tall grass made it almost impassable. But then, just before we got to that section, the Hare took us in a direction I’d never seen before. Now, I do enjoy exploring a new path, but damn, this one was pretty f’n steep. And that wasn’t the worst of it…

And I had to chuckle once we came back down–we intersected with My Bitch again and did in fact, wind up on Rizal Extension. Ah well, it was an easy paved walk from there to our “on-home” at the Hot Zone.

We are I believe one of the more perverted Hash kennels around. Definitely not family-friendly. Here’s but one example:

(to the tune of “if you’re happy and you know it”)

If you girlfriend tastes like shit, roll her over

If your girlfriend tastes like shit, roll her over

If your girlfriend tastes like shit, it’s her asshole not her clit

If your girlfriend tastes like shit, roll her over.

Well, you get the idea. It’s silly in a fraternal kind of way I suppose. There’s a couple of songs I actually kind of like, if for no other reason than that they are decidedly non-PC. It’s all in good fun.