Or at least a day in the life. I’m still not inclined to do hills *ahem* but I did a 7K solo stroll yesterday over mostly flat terrain. I’m not sure what the future holds for me physically, but I’m going to keep pushing forward as long as I can. Here is some of what I saw along the way:

Swan had some shopping to do in Olongapo (her sister is getting married on March 8), and I told her she could meet me at Sloppy Joe’s on her way back home.

I had skipped lunch, so a couple of beers later, I was ready for some grub. Swan was hungry too, and I suggested we walk the block to Myleen’s for dinner.

With our hunger satiated, it was time to take care of business. I had a 500 peso voucher for La Oficina that was due to expire, so that’s where we headed. La Oficina is a girly bar (dancers), which is not my thing, so I very seldom visit here. The VFW guys were holding an event when we arrived, so there was a pretty good crowd at first. We got a nice seat overlooking the stage and settled in–Swan with her red wine, me with my San Mig Zero.

Those coupons they hand out at the SOB always wind up costing me money. Yeah, my beers were free, but that didn’t limit my spending. I used to play darts with one of the waitresses, so naturally, I invited her to join us for a couple of lady drinks. One of the dancers caught my eye, but not in the way you might expect. She was attractive enough and young, but the look on her face when she took to the stage was heartbreaking. It was so obvious she hated her job and wanted to be someplace else, but like a lot of these women, she likely had no other viable option to earn money but to put her body on display. The way she held her arms folded over her bare midriff showed how shy she was. I shared my thoughts with Swan, and she agreed with my assessment. Swan also didn’t object to my going to the stage and slipping the sad dancer a tip and some words of encouragement. Yeah, back in the day, the hardcore mongers didn’t like guys like me setting that kind of bad example, dubbing me another “Captain Save-a-Ho.” I always wore that mantle proudly because even prostitutes are worthy of respect. I tried to make my barfines more of a date than just a “wham, bam, thank you, ma’am.” Anyway, those days are long gone, but the sad girl on stage reminded me of why I always hated Angeles City and don’t spend much time now in the dancing bars.

A food vendor came into the bar selling treats Filipinas fancy, so I bought 300 pesos worth for the hardworking girls, and they seemed to appreciate it. My tab came to around 700 pesos, and I tipped my dart buddy and waitress before departing. So, yeah, that 500 peso coupon saved me big time!

I came home feeling no pain and went to bed early. Woke up to another fine morning in paradise. Keep ’em coming! It’s SOB Friday (coincidentally at La Oficina tonight) but I’ve invited the neighbors over for some fun at The Rite Spot On The Roof.

Today’s Quora Q&A:

Q: What do you call Spaniards who were born in Spain and went to the Philippines?

A: Colonizers.

Here are today’s “funnies” (yes, I am aware that’s a matter of opinion):

One of my country music favorites, Toby Keith, died earlier this month at age 62 from stomach cancer. I came across a video of him performing a song I’d never heard at a country music awards show last December. I’m not sure if it was his final live performance, but damn, the words really resonate.

Don't let the old man in
I want to live me some more
Can't leave it up to him
He's knocking on my door

And I knew all of my life
That someday it would end
Get up and go outside
Don't let the old man in

Many moons I have lived
My body's weathered and worn
Ask yourself how old you'd be
If you didn't know the day you were born

Try to love on your wife
And stay close to your friends
Toast each sundown with wine
Don't let the old man in

Many moons I have lived
My body's weathered and worn
Ask yourself how old you'd be
If you didn't know the day you were born

When he rides up on his horse
And you feel that cold bitter wind
Look out your window and smile
Don't let the old man in
Look out your window and smile
Don't let the old man in

Words to live by.

And to make matters worse, Swan caught me. I’ll share the gruesome details later in this post. Let’s start with the good part of the day–Swan’s weekly candy walk.

Swan had a friend coming over to visit in the evening, which meant I would be alone in the bars. Yeah, you can see where this is leading.

So, I headed out with a pocketful of coupons from the SOB, including a “buy one, take one” for the Green Room. On my way there, I passed Sloppy Joe’s and saw a group of Hashers enjoying cold beverages, so I joined them for a couple.

When I moved next door to Green Room, I was able to secure my favorite table and plopped down to take full advantage of my half-price beer coupon. My regular waitress sat down, and we chatted some, so I bought her a lady drink. A bit later, a woman I met while hiking (I gave her kids some cookies) came over to give me a shoulder rub (she works there now). And then the Hasher I know came and stood beside my table, too. When I ordered my next beer, I bought them all a round of lady drinks. Yeah, those coupons always wind up costing me money!

I got a message that my pal Erik was on his way, and he arrived just in time to rescue me from a very aggressive gal who was trying to touch me in ways that even I find inappropriate. With Erik there, she turned her full attentions on him and left me alone. He seemed to be enjoying her company. I stayed for a couple of more (and another round of lady drinks). A large group of big-spending Koreans arrived and encamped on the tables next to ours. They began playing pool, and I saw one tip a girl 1000 pesos, which must have made her week. It’s always entertaining to watch the two-week millionaires in action.

Erik was surprised when I told him it was time for me to go, seeing as how it wasn’t even eight yet. When he asked why, I just said I’d rather be at home. Besides, he appeared to be in good hands (literally) with the aggressive girl. As I departed, I decided to stop into Sit-n-Bull and get a pecan pie for Swan (it’s her favorite). I was a little surprised to see the price has gone up to 260 pesos per pie slice. I usually get two for an even 500, but that won’t work now. My judgment may have been impaired somewhat by the beers, but I impulsively told the waitress to make a banana split to go. I got one pecan pie as well.

When I arrived home, Swan was still on the roof with her friends, so I turned on the TV and “Shameless”ly began devouring my banana split. Unbeknownst to me, Swan had quietly come downstairs and caught me red-handed cheating on my diet. She was none too pleased but calmed down when I handed her the pecan pie. Still, she let me know she expected me to remain faithful in the future to abstaining from ice cream. Yes, dear.

One day at a time. When you fall off the wagon, you just climb your way back on.

Today’s Quora Q&A:

Q: What are some places in the world where an America can much easily afford an early retirement there, whereas if they had stayed in America they would be struggling to get by and probably would run out of money?

A: It’s not hard to find places that are more affordable than the USA. I chose the Philippines and I live very well here on my pension. I love Asia and should I decide on a change of scenery I’d seriously consider Cambodia or Vietnam.

And now for the smiles:

I’m going to do a feeding at Hideaway and enjoy some time on the Arizona floating bar today. I don’t foresee any ice cream in my future, though.

Yep, another hike on Kalaklan Ridge. Note I said “on,” not “up.” One of the members, Brian, discovered a rough dirt road leading to the ridge from the Olongapo side and offered to drive the group up in his 4×4 pickup truck. I love walking the ridgeline but despise climbing up there, so this idea was a real treat. We took the truck to the top and parked where the road ended, then commenced our walk in the direction of Tralala, a mountaintop village. We arrived 4K later and kept on going for a bit into territory none of us had previously traversed. Then we reversed course and walked back the way we came (no other option on the ridge) concluding what for me was a 9K hike. I enjoyed it very much much. Here are some pictures our group took along the way:

The dog walk, the ridgeline, and my trip into town made for one of my biggest days in a long time.

About that trip into town. I dropped into Hideaway for Joy’s birthday. Had a pizza delivered and gave her an envelope with the gift I knew she could use. I stayed an hour or so and said goodbye before the cake was cut. Next up was Cheap Charlies, a venue I don’t frequent as often as I used to. Come to think of it, I haven’t been hitting any of the bars as often now that I have more motivation to stay home. None of my old crew was working, but I stayed for two beers anyway.

Swan was visiting a friend and wasn’t going to join me. I decided to go to Whiskey Girl to say hello to my waitress friend, Jenn. Except she wasn’t working either. The girl I know from Voodoo now works at Whiskey Girl, so I bought her a drink before I headed back down the highway.

I made Snackbar my final stop of the night. Months and months have passed since my last visit, and the vibe was pretty depressing. Things change, and life goes on. There are lots of nice memories there, but the past is gone.

Home before eight (and Swan). For some reason, Netflix still won’t load on my television, so I finished season 10 of “Shameless” on my laptop. One more season to go.

Today, I’m going to spend my evening at the Rite Spot On The Roof. I’m sure it will be more fun than I had last night.

Facebook memories reminded me that it was seven years ago that I was diagnosed with COPD.

Today’s Quora Q&A:

Q: Do you ever think about your old job after retirement?

A: Funny you should ask. I dreamed about working in my old job last night. It’s been over four years since I retired. I guess my subconscious wanted something to do.

And you regulars know what is coming next:

That’s all for today. Thanks for dropping in.

Tuesday is in the books, my shelves are restocked with groceries, and I’m still among the living. Hard to top that!

My big event was a visit to Dr. Jo to review the results of my recent bloodwork. It wasn’t quite as good as I hoped it would be, but not so bad that I’m hopeless. Comparing the results of my previous test in May and this one, here’s the lowdown:

My uric acid is high. Up from 438.74 to 529.52 (high normal is 416)

My fasting blood sugar is high. Up from 6.35 to 6.49 (high normal is 5.49)

I also have increased levels of kidney enzymes:

Blood Urrea Nitrogen. Up from 4.20 to 6.80 (high normal is 8.33)

Creatine. Up from 82.0 to 102.0 (high normal is 104)

In the good news department, my cholesterol is down.

So, I have a couple of new meds to try for the next thirty days. And I have to develop more discipline in my daily dietary habits. Back on low carb and limited sugar intakes. My motivation is not to become diabetic like my mother was and to avoid kidney failure. Wish me luck.

After the doctor’s appointment, I hiked out to Baloy Beach to do my Tuesday gig on the floating bar.

And when the sun goes, so do we. This time, we visited DaKudos for our supper.

Via Facebook memories came this from five years ago:

And in the sad news department, Toby Keith has died at 62. I first became familiar with Keith as a performer when I heard “Courtesy of the Red, White, and Blue,” which resonated with me after seeing the 9/11 attacks up close and personal in DC. That event also transformed me from a Democrat voter to a person who puts America first. And I hear this song frequently played in The Hideaway Bar and others:

Today’s Quora Q&A question:

Q: If you could go back to 1986 and restart your life from that moment, would you do it?

A: Yes, I would. There would be lots of IPO stocks to buy.

Today’s funnies:

Alright, got to run. I have a birthday party to attend to at Hideaway this evening.

It’s funny the things you remember sometimes. When I was thinking about how to characterize how I spent my time yesterday, the word “satisfice” came to mind. Then, I recalled the days when I was climbing the ladder through levels of government bureaucracy as a supervisor and manager for Uncle Sam. Periodically, we’d be sent to training seminars at the taxpayers’ expense to learn skills to become more effective leaders. At one such session, I was introduced to the concept of satisficing. Contrary to most of my training, this tidbit proved useful over the years. The way the instructor explained it, as managers, we had to both make efficient use of our time and encourage the growth and development of our subordinates. An example I remember from the training went something like this: You assign a staff member to write a policy memo. When you are provided a draft for review, you find that while it conveys the purpose adequately, it is not written in the manner you prefer. So, you can reject the work and have it redone, or you can waste your own precious time rewriting it yourself. The third option was to accept that while it was not done the way you would have, it did serve to communicate the policy’s intent–it satisfices. Over the years, many things passed my desk for approval, and I would invoke that mantra in acceptance. I did a quick Google search of the word today and was surprised to see a Wikipedia entry for satisficing. They describe a more scientific approach than I took, but the idea is pretty much the same.

About yesterday, then. I mentioned that I had decided to forego the Hash, but I needed to determine how I might best fill those hours in a meaningful way. But as I considered options, nothing particularly appealed to me. I hadn’t spent any time over the weekend in the bars of Barretto, and oddly enough, I wasn’t missing that scene. I thought about doing my own hike, but I wasn’t feeling up for a solo walk either. In the end, I walked across town to John’s place, ordered the Korean wings to go, and took them across the street to Hideaway to share with the crew since I hadn’t been there for the Sunday feeding.

After an hour, I moved on. Blue Butterfly Bar was sold and is now called Roadhouse. I like that name much better. I dropped in to see what was up, but other than some new signage and fewer girls, it didn’t seem much different. I had one beer there and departed. Now what? As I stood on the highway, considering the multiple bar options surrounding me, nothing appealed more than the thought of going back home. So, that’s what I did after stopping in at Sit-n-Bull for some pecan pie (Swan’s favorite) to take with me.

When I walked through the door, I put the pie on the counter, grabbed a beer, and headed up to the roof. Swan was already there enjoying a glass of wine and was happy to have me join her.

Later, we went downstairs with the intention to watch some “Shameless,” but for some reason, Netflix wouldn’t load on the TV. We settled for a couple of YouTube videos, then headed off to bed for some bliss before sleep.

It was a far from perfect day, but it satisficed.

Today’s Quora Q&A (from November 2022):

Q: What would you say to someone if they became a millionaire overnight?

A: Sharing is caring.

Today’s attempts at humor:

We’ll so something a little more upbeat for today’s song:

I hope you found today’s post to be satisficing.

I am what I am, and that’s all that I am, but it would take a lot more than spinach to make me a Popeye. I fear my destiny will be a Wimpy one.

Yesterday’s Hash kicked my ass. Leech My Nuggets was the Hare, and he is famous for tough but well-marked trails. Run #1586 was no exception. We began on the far side of Subic town and journeyed back through the hills to the On-Home at Smokes and Bottles. The first climb left me breathless, and I had an internal debate about giving up, but retreat wasn’t an appealing option either. So onward I plodded. My relief at achieving the summit was short-lived because the getting down was also long and surprisingly difficult. On the other hand, I’m 68 years old and still getting out and about, so I won’t overly shame my effort. The day may come when I’m only a flat-earther, but that day has not arrived yet.

Prior to departing home for the Hash, I partook in a fine lunch crafted by Swan’s loving hands.

Then it was time to get to work.

And so ended a challenging Hash. Glad I lived to tell about it.

In other news, I got asked a question on Quora today about becoming a certified human resources professional (I are one). I’ve not been very active on Quora lately, but I did look through some of my previous answers there. And just for you, my faithful few readers, I’ve decided to start a new daily feature here at LTG–a Q&A from the past. C’mon, admit it, you’re getting bored with hiking pictures, right? Well, I’m still doing those; this is something extra, lagniappe, as we used to say in Louisiana. Here’s today’s:

Q: I’m 1 inch tall and I’m in the palm of your hand. You can do whatever you want with me, with no limits. What would you do with me?

A: I’d have you dance on my hand, then give you a round of applause…

For some reason, that didn’t earn me any upvotes. Oh well, ask a stupid question; that’s what you get.

Had enough of this nonsense for one day? Me, too. Besides, it’s almost time for me to do my Tuesday gig at the Kokomo floating bar. See you here tomorrow!

Saturday was pretty much a nothing day. A morning doctor appointment usurped my usual walk, and after that, I just lazed around the house until mid-afternoon. I went out a little after three, got a haircut, and then set my mind on where I might go to ingest some brewed beverages. I considered Snackbar as an option, but as I approached I recalled my dissatisfaction with my last visit, so I kept on walking up Baloy Road. As I strolled past Harley’s, I thought to myself that I needed to add it to my rotation–it has the open-air seating I like and some great bay views. It looked crowded yesterday, so I didn’t stop. I figured I’d pop into McCoy’s for a beer, then continue down the beach to either the floating bar or Laharnyz.

Almost as soon as I sat down, this young woman came up and gave me a big hug. I had no clue who she might be, but I played along as if I did. Then she revealed she had been my waitress at the Green Room for Friday’s SOB. How quickly I forget! She was there with another girl and that girl’s boyfriend, an American (retired Air Force) who had recently moved to the Philippines. Mike came over, introduced himself, and sat next to me. We had a nice chat, and I gave him some tips on making life more convenient here (like the best company to use for wire transfers). One beer led to several, and I spent my entire evening at McCoy’s.

I stepped out onto the beach to get some pics of my surroundings.

No need for a nightcap last night, I’d had enough. Went home, turned on Netflix, and missed an episode of “Shameless.”

It was something different for a Saturday. Met someone new, and had a decent time in a Filipino hangout. My plan for later today is the Sunday Hideaway feeding and then a couple of hours on the Arizona floating bar. Yep, I’m a creature of habit.

The Star Trek meme for today:

Today’s song is a 1965 hit from the McCoys. I remembered it from my youthful days and even recalled the lyrics, but I’d never seen the video. That girl dancing was mesmerizing. At least for me. Her name is Lisa Dalton, and there is a really interesting backstory to her appearance in this video. Check it out if you are so inclined. Meanwhile, enjoy a trip back in time with “Hang On Sloopy.”

And by “it,” I mean a good time. No, I don’t need to check my white privilege–I know a big it when I see one.

Swan made me a lunch of Polish sausage and fries, but it didn’t go down so well.

Swan was sweet and made me another batch.

The local 7/11 convenience store is hiring. Get a load of these requirements:

Let’s go to the beach now, shall we?

It was a bit of a mixed bag on the Kokomo floating bar yesterday. When I arrived, the music was ear-splittingly loud. Lots of other customers, and no one seemed to be complaining, so I figured I’d just down my beer and leave. I did mention to my waitress that the volume was so high the music was actually distorting. She went and talked to the waitress holding the control, and the volume was reduced–still too loud, but probably not damaging to my ears.

I still enjoyed the views and rocking motion during my visit.

Swan messaged that she was with some friends at Laharnyz, a little further up Baloy Beach.

My pal Erik messaged me that McCoy’s, another beach bar, was having a “food festival” and invited us to see him there. So, Swan and I made our way up the beach.

I didn’t go home hungry, but Swan says I was a little drunk. I don’t remember.

My Fitbit says I had a good night’s sleep (seven and a half hours!), and I awoke to find the moon stalking me.

A good day out at the Aeta village in Old Cabalan (Olongapo) with some food baskets distributed and a short hike. More on that tomorrow. Now, I must prepare for the feeding at Hideaway.

Another day, another Christmas. Here’s what you missed:

And Facebook sent me a memory from Christmas ten years ago.

But, on a brighter note, I had the Hash Candy Run to attend.

There was also a Hash on Christmas Day back in 1995.

Anyway, it was something different and an enjoyable way to spend the afternoon. The cold beers at the end were especially refreshing.

So, here’s a parting gift before I go.

I’m not hearing any complaints.

Okay, I’ll stop now.

Champagne don't drive me crazy
Cocaine don't make me lazy
Ain't nobody's business but my own

Candy is dandy and liquor is quicker
You can drink all the liquor down at Costa Rica
Ain't nobody's business but your own

I’ll be doing the annual Hash Candy Run later, so let’s get today’s post out of the way.

Today the Hashers will be walking the streets of Barretto and the surrounding communities handing out candy to the children we encounter. Santa (aka 18 Kilo Ass) will be in attendance as well. And Swan will be joining in on the fun, so I’m looking forward to our first Hash together.

I received a sweet Christmas card from my sweetie:

In keeping with my holiday tradition, I prepared a batch of my Aunt Pat’s recipe World Famous fruit salad this morning.

Santa’s helper (Swan) gifted me a backpack and two hats:

And here’s the rundown on how I spent my Christmas Eve.

Hideaway Bar was having a Christmas party and I left home an hour earlier than usual to add my contribution to the food offerings. Well, Jewel Cafe supplied the eats, I just paid for them. I did bring a batch of brownies and some Oreo cookies to add to the mix.

When it came time to depart Hideaway, I hit the beach instead of the highway.

When darkness falls on the floater, I head for shore. I decided It Doesn’t Matter would be a nice venue for my nightcap. It turned out to be even nicer than I expected when I got a message from a young woman wanting to join me.

Soon enough, Swan needed to depart for her family event in Subic, and I was at my limit for beer ingestion. We said our goodnights and went our separate ways. I had blueberry cheesecake to keep me company when I got home. Netflix still won’t connect to my TV for some reason, so I watched a “Shameless” episode on my laptop. Then it was off to bed for another good nights sleep. Being able to breathe through my nose again seems to help with that.

And that brings you up to date. I plan to grill some ribeye steaks for a pre-Hash Christmas lunch. Thanks for coming by, and check back tomorrow for another update to the story of my so-called life.

And since it is Christmas, let me gift you with another one:

Merry Christmas!

WARNING: This post contains some ugly photos of me, so I advise running away as fast as possible!

Coming home alive from the hospital was my primary goal. With that achieved, I’m striving for my nose innards to heal properly and to get back to being a fully functional breather.

I was oozing blood, mostly from the left nostril. The doctor said that’s normal.

After the polyps were removed, the doctor had packed my nose with something absorbent to reduce the bleeding. On Monday, that material in the right nostril started falling out. My caregiver, Teri, contacted the doctor’s office, and was given guidance on how to remove the wayward material. I was a little nervous about it, but told her to proceed as instructed. So, Teri squirted some water up my nostril, grabbed the material with tweezers and began to pull.

OUCH! Oh shit. That hurt like a motherfucker. I guess the dried blood had congealed around the packing, and the removal felt like ripping a scab off a wound.

It was Hash Monday, but I knew I was in no condition to do the trail. But I decided that shouldn’t stop me from drinking some beers at the On-Home venue, Blue Butterfly. So, at 3 p.m. I headed out on my own 2K trek to get there.

I didn’t participate in the Hash Circle, choosing to remain outdoors, sipping my beer, and buying lady drinks for the hard-working waitresses. When the Hash ended, I walked up the highway to Sit-n-Bull and got some pecan pie to bring home with me.

I spent some time on the patio with Swan and then watched a couple of episodes of “Shameless” before hitting the hay. Enjoyed a decent night’s sleep without as much bleeding.

It may not look like it, but that was progress–a much-reduced blood flow.

So, I had an 8 a.m. appointment with the doctor who performed the surgery. We were both on time, and she was ready to remove the remainder of the nose packing. And it hurt every bit as much as it had when Teri started the process on Monday.

But my nose is empty now, and I can breathe easily through it again for the first time in months. My blood oxygen level, which had been in the low to mid-90s, is now at 97, and I can feel the difference. I haven’t even needed my nebulizer today.

I’m still not quite right, though. Still lacking energy, and my thinking is more fuzzy than usual. I read that can be one of the side effects of general anesthesia, especially in older people. Well, maybe ignorance will be bliss.

The doctor says I must take it easy for the next three days and refrain from eating or drinking anything hot. So, I’ll wait until Friday to start hiking again and continue to enjoy icy-cold San Miguel Zeros in the meantime.

After leaving the doctor’s office in San Marcelino, my driver took me to the immigration office in Olongapo, where I was granted permission to continue living in the Philippines for the next sixty days. Then I completed my weekly grocery shopping at Royal, and now I’m ready to get on with the rest of my life.

What will it be–the Arizona floating bar or Kokomo’s? Or maybe I should just drink on solid ground tonight. Decisions, decisions.

Facebook memories carried me back to the last time all my family was in the same place at the same time.

And here’s the funny:

Just a quick not to report I survived the surgery. Feeling very light headed at the moment and still hav some light bleeding from the nose. More to report once I feel better.

Another day in paradise that I managed to survive. I feel good about that. I kicked things off with my Standard Saturday Solo Stroll through the streets of Barretto, a 6K endeavor.

My break in the walking action had a silver lining in that the old familiar felt almost new again. So, I did the photo every 1.6K thing to capture the feeling.

I grabbed a sandwich to go at SnB, and triked home.

And the new window blinds in my bedroom/office were installed while I was out walking.

After blogging and showering, it was time to have an old-fashioned date with Swan. I asked her to join me at the beach for dinner and drinks, and she accepted. I suggested we walk the 2K to the Kokomo’s floating bar, and she agreed.

I was a little surprised at how many passersby we encountered along the way that Swan knew. Then I remembered she worked at one of the resorts on Baloy for a while. When we hit the beach, I was relieved that it wasn’t low tide, so we could board the raft without wading through ankle-deep water.

It was Swan’s first visit to the floating bar and here is some of what she saw:

The girls all greeted me by name, but that doesn’t seem to bother Swan as long as they don’t leave lipstick marks on my neck (I still don’t know how that happened). I brought some brownies for the crew, and they went fast, and the gals seemed appreciative. One of the customers banged into our table and spilled my beer. He apologized profusely, and I told him it was no big deal (I’d recovered most of it). He bought me another one anyway, and I thanked him.

After we ate, we took a trike back to the house. I had missed my usual afternoon nap and was feeling sleepy, so I went to bed early.

As days go, yesterday was a good one overall.

The Sunday feeding at Hideaway is next on my agenda. We’ll see what happens after that.

Picking up from where I left off yesterday, I successfully made the crosstown trek from my place to Hideaway. I felt some weakness in the leg but no pain or instability. That’s what makes this ailment tough to decipher. To my untrained mind, I think the nerve or muscle damage symptoms would be constant. Maybe it makes sense that it only occurs when I exert myself. Or perhaps I’m getting better through self-healing. Regardless, I’ve decided not to attempt today’s Hash trail. Even the short version requires a hill climb, and I’m paranoid about the weak knee causing a fall in the wrong place and putting me in a whole other world of hurt. Better to take it slow until I’ve recovered some stamina. Instead, I’ll walk to the On-Home venue (around 3K from my place) and see how I feel from there.

Last night’s bar crawl was kind of blah…I was just in one of those moods, I suppose. The Hideaway feeding was its usual success. I forgot to bring a dessert for the second week in a row, so I had to substitute Dunkin’ Donuts again. I guess the gals like that as much as the treats I usually bring, so no big deal.

When I left Hideaway, I headed up the highway with no real destination in mind. As I passed, I noticed from across the road that It Doesn’t Matter appeared to be busy, and I wasn’t in the mood for a crowd. The Annex needed some business though, so I stopped in there for a beer.

I wound up at Sloppy Joe’s next and watched the people on the street pass by. In a weird kind of way, I prefer that to watching bored dancers swaying on stage. Three beers later I was at Wet Spot, a place featuring some of those dancers. Had a beer and decided to go next door to The Green Room. I guess word got out because no one accosted me for lady drinks. Two beers by myself and then homeward bound.

Yes, my night was as boring as it sounds. Made me sleepy just writing about it. Hopefully, I’ll have more fun tonight.

My distance walking buddy Kevin Kim was lamenting how quickly the soles of his Skecher hiking shoes have down. I’ve had the same problem with all three pair of mine:

In addition to walking, Kevin is big on the importance of proper punctuation. Sometimes bad punctuation can be fatal:

And while we are on the subject of comprehension, I pity the folks who believe what they hear without question.

Meanwhile, prepare yourself for the devalued dollar. They look like this:

I found this insect loitering on my front porch this morning:

That’s all for now. Back tomorrow with more goodness.

This will be an abbreviated post today because I’m running late, and the hash is looming.

Swan was off doing whatever it is she does with her Sunday me time, and I proceeded to do what I do pretty much every damn day of my life. Last night, I did the feeding at Hideaway and then my nightcap at Wet Spot. The photo above was taken at the entrance to WS. One thing that stood out for me was Aine seems to be avoiding me. She usually doesn’t wait for an invite to join me when I take my seat, but last night, she came by, said hello, then walked off. Weird. Still, it was nice keeping that lady drink money in my wallet.

I got home early, a little after seven, and Swan was sitting on the couch. The TV hadn’t been mounted yet, so she was watching Netflix on her phone. I made us dessert (pecan pie a la mode), which she seemed to enjoy. When I was ready for bed, Swan said she was going to watch some more Netflix. See you later, then.

Oh, when I got home, Lucky was standing on the front porch, wagging his tail and wanting to be let into the house. I decided to forgive (but I won’t forget) and let him in.

I invited Swan to join me on the morning dog walk, but she declined.

I met with the landlord’s agent at my old place and turned over the keys. Doing the property checklist, there was a missing rice cooker and TV remote control. I found both items here and will return them soon. It will be interesting to see how much, if any, of my two-month security deposit is returned to me.

Lots of thoughts are swirling in my brain, but I’m going to take my time to sort it all out. Perhaps it was just a weird coincidence, but I happened upon a post from December 2021 where I was experiencing a similar bout of love-induced confusion. That gal is rumored to be getting married soon. All’s well that ends well.

The hand is still painfully sore, and it is my left hand, the one I prefer (as anyone in their right mind would). I’m keeping it clean and taking the antibiotics that Dr. Dave recommended, so it is just a matter of time until I’m healed.

It’s time to shower up and prepare for my Hash excursion. I understand the trail passes through Alta Vista, so my plan is to catch it here and save those steps to the VFW starting point. Waste not, want not, right?

This sounds like a story right out of the Philippines:

Back tomorrow with more of this kind of goodness.

Yeah, yeah, that post title is bad grammar. You are also likely to encounter some sloppy punctuation as well. You’ve been warned!

So, let’s talk about yesterday’s Hash. It was a strange one. I wound up doing my own trail, a little over 6K, but mostly flat. I walked from my place out to where the official trail started, then walked back to the On-Home at Johansson’s. I had planned to get to the Coral Street beginning point before the 2:00 p.m. start time but arrived a couple of minutes late. Everyone had left by then, so it was an easy decision to turn around and go back. I did reward myself with a beer stop at Hideaway on my return journey.

When the Hare arrived, he told me there were only five Hashers at the start of the trail. Another strange happening. Like me, a couple of other folks had done their own trail, but when the circle started, we only had eight people in attendance. I’ve never seen a turnout that low. And to make it even weirder, we had zero females in attendance. Like I said, it was a strange Hash. Not sure what was going on, but hopefully, we will be back to normal next week.

Here are some photos if you care to share my adventure:

Anyway, that’s the way it goes sometimes. The beer was cold, and there was plenty of it. After the Hash, most of us went to It Doesn’t Matter and had a few more. I gave up drinking at seven (don’t worry, I plan to start again this evening) and went to Sit-n-Bull for a banana split to bring him home with me. My Fitbit says I was asleep before 8:30. What a life!

I guess you have to trust the science on this:

Hard to argue with this logic:

Yesterday’s Swan-hosted event at her/our house seemed to go well. I arrived at the appointed hour of 1:00 p.m. and was a little surprised to see so many children running about. But they weren’t a problem, and as more of the adults arrived, the kids mostly confined themselves to the bedrooms. I wasn’t sure what to expect beyond the normal eating and drinking that occurs when Filipinos gather. I teasingly told Swan that I had prepared a short speech announcing that we were now officially a couple. Swan clarified that this group of trusted friends and relatives already knew about me, which is why they had been invited. So, I guess our relationship is still technically a secret. I’m looking forward to moving in next weekend and seeing how things change for us, for better or worse.

So, I sat and drank beer from one until five. When a carload of guests were departing, I caught a ride down to the 7/11 on Baloy and had a couple more beers at Snackbar. My idea for ending my evening there was to avoid walking back to my place from Swan’s in the dark. I was able to catch a trike home after my nightcap.

I had a good time as the token white guy at the party. I’m sure I’ll be having similar gatherings in the future. It’s every bit as much fun hanging out and drinking at home as it is in the bars. Although I don’t mean to imply that I’ll be discarding my barlife entirely. I’ll find the right balance, I’m sure.

It’s Hash Monday. I haven’t decided yet whether I’ll do what the Hare admits is a tough trail or make my own. The problem is the official trail starts about 3K out of town in an area I’m not that familiar with. That makes it tough to shortcut. I’ve got a couple of hours to decide.

And speaking of the Hash, I learned today that one of SBH3’s oldest members, Goldfinger, has passed away.

Goodbye my friends
Maybe for forever
Goodbye my friends
The stars wait for me
Who knows where we shall meet again
If ever
But time
Keeps flowing like a river (on and on)
To the sea
To the sea

UPDATE: Oops! I’ve used the Party Time moniker once before. Way back in July 2005. It was kind of interesting to reminisce about my first 4th of July party in Korea. And seeing Mi Soon, my first Korean girlfriend, again. Ah, an old man and his memories…

I arrived at the VFW forty-five minutes early to try and get some practice in before the dart league games commenced. It wasn’t pretty, as in missing the board entirely far too often and suffering numerous bounce-outs. In less than thirty minutes of warmup throws, I had broken two shafts and destroyed a flight. Having run out of spares, I gave up on practice to ensure I had a functioning set of darts for the competition to come. The good news is that the team I played with yesterday won the match, 12-1. That blemish of a loss was my failed effort in singles cricket. I did prevail in my doubles matches, thanks to having a partner to help carry the load. I managed to hit the winning dart (a double-out in 501) as my only highlight on the afternoon. Yep, I sucked every bit as bad as I feared I would. I don’t recall throwing that poorly, even as a beginner. Well, maybe I’ll be motivated to start practicing at home again and rediscover my lost talent for the game.

The match was over at 4:30, and I hustled across town with the funds needed to feed the Hideaway girls. I picked up a dozen Dunkin’ Donuts on the way as I didn’t have time to bake the usual brownie dessert.

Once again, the vendor woman prepared and delivered the food. It is reasonably priced (less than 100 pesos per meal) and the girls seem to enjoy it.

The thing I dislike the most about dart league is starting at 2:00 in the afternoon. Starting drinking beer at 2:00, I mean. It just throws me off my rhythm. I left Hideaway at 6:30 and headed back towards my side of town with no real destination in mind. I considered crossing the highway and visiting Voodoo (I have a 500 peso voucher coupon), but there was no break in the traffic, so I just decided to use the coupon tonight and kept walking. Wasn’t in a Cheap Charlies mood and proceeded onward toward Whiskey Girl. A voice from the balcony called out as I passed Adam’s bar. It was Eunice, one of my former regulars at Cheap Charlies. Okay, I’ll go up and say hello.

Once inside, another gal whose name I don’t recall but used to work at the floating bar, sat on one side with Eunice on the other. Yep, the girls have me pegged as an easy mark. I made them wait until I finished my first beer before rewarding their patience with a lady drink. It was nice to see them both again, but not enough to stay for a second round.

Back on the street, I continued to make my way in the homeward direction. I’d lost the urge for Whiskey Girl and just kept going until I reached Snackbar. There were surprisingly few customers there, so I sat outside and spent some time catching up with Jenn. Mama was sitting outside the 7/11, so I sent Jenn to get Mama (the umbrella lady) and the Snackbar girls an ice cream cone. The owner arrived a bit later, and we chatted for a bit before I pulled the plug on my night and grabbed a trike home.

I apologize if the excitement of my life is overwhelming. I could be on the cusp of a significant lifestyle change, so I’m doing my best to enjoy these wild days while I can.

I used yesterday’s morning walk to carry me to the Savers appliance store, where I purchased a stove and refrigerator for use in my new residence. I had intended to buy a big side-by-side fridge/freezer but couldn’t pull the trigger on spending over a thousand bucks for one. So, I settled for a regular-sized unit for less than half that price.

My new gear will be delivered on Saturday. I’m moving in on the 30th, but with Swan moving her stuff out on Sunday, she’ll need a stove and fridge until I arrive.

Of course, the big news from yesterday is that I survived my “free beer in every SOB bar” adventure.

And since I lived to tell about it, here goes:

Some of the included bars don’t open until six, and I didn’t want to push my luck drinking while I waited for them to open. So, I left the house a little later than normal and started the evening out with some dinner at John’s place.

FIRST STOP: JOHN’S SUSHI AND STEAKHOUSE

I was craving some Mexican and had read some Facebook posts raving about John’s Birria tacos. John was present when I arrived, and when I mentioned I was thinking about ordering the tacos, he went into a long story about how what we Yanks call tacos are nothing like the authentic ones from Mexico. He’s a foodie, so naturally, he described what’s involved in creating them while I listened politely. I don’t recall having ever previously eaten a taco by that name, but I was excited to give it a try. I placed my order and headed upstairs to the third-floor bar for my dining experience.

I was actually full after I devoured two of them, so I invited my waitress over to help me out with the third taco.

Damages: Two beers

SECOND STOP: VOODOO BAR

Voodoo is one of the bars I suspected didn’t open until six, and I was a little surprised to see the “we’re open” sign flashing as I walked by, so I was happy to stop in and deploy my coupon. It was deadly quiet when I entered (usually, the music is blaring in this bar), and I asked if they were open. The bartender replied that they could serve me, but the girls wouldn’t arrive until six. Okay, that’s fine. When I handed her my free beer ticket, I thought she might have rolled her eyes a little, but maybe I just imagined it.

So, my plan was to drink a free beer in each bar, but I figured it was only fair to have a second out-of-pocket or perhaps a lady drink for a deserving girl. Since no gals were present, I assumed I’d be going the second beer route. And then, just as I finished my first beer, who should walk in but my old regular Josie and my new friend, Lynn.

I told them of my quest and that I wouldn’t be staying after this round. They wished me well, and I headed out.

Damages: Two beers (one free) and two lady drinks.

THIRD STOP: THE GREEN ROOM

I was a little worried a passel of ladies would once again besiege me, but I was able to grab my usual small table near the pool table, apparently unnoticed by the thirsty ones. My waitress, Mary Anne, was the girl I met at Arizona Resort thirteen years ago as a tourist. I wrote about our reunion here. I bought her a drink for old time’s sake. Then, the woman I’ve been buying food from for the Hideaway girls approached my table to thank me again for yesterday’s purchase. We got to talking, and it turns out she’s friends with my ex, Marissa. What a small town. I wound up buying her a drink, too.

Damages: one beer (free) and two lady drinks

FOURTH STOP: LA OFICINA BAR

Up a flight of stairs to this second floor venue. Took an elevated seat above the stage to better enjoy the view.

I wasn’t looking for love last night, so I called the least attractive of the dancers to join me for a drink. She’s the one who remembers me from Whiskey Girl.

I heard her tell the waitress she wanted a bottled beer (the dreaded 300 pesos double), and I told her no, only a single lady drink. She had to chase the waitress down to change her order. I reminded the waitress I needed my free beer coupon back, and she said she’d already returned it. I checked my wallet, and it wasn’t there. She went back to look, and eventually, the cashier came over with the coupon, saying she had had to make a photocopy. Okay, no problem. When I finished my beer, I handed the waitress my bill cup and said, “Bill out, please.” She returned with another beer. I might have been a tad rude in my response, but damn, it just weird to confuse “bill out” with “bring me another beer.” A manager came over and apologized, saying the waitress was new. I had calmed down and felt bad, so I apologized to the waitress when she brought my change. She didn’t appear receptive to sorrys. Oh, well. I tried.

Damages: one beer (free) and one lady drink.

FIFTH STOP: ALASKA CLUB

Back down the stairs and into Alaska. My regular, dancer Joy, wasn’t working, but the new waitress I’d met on an earlier visit was happy to join me.

Damages: Two beers (one free) and two lady drinks.

SIXTH STOP: WET SPOT

Right next door the journey continued. The “backslappers” table was full, but bar owner and SOB founder Daddy Dave came and joined me at mine. I congratulated him on his successful program of giving away free beers to increase profits, noting that my night of not paying for my beer was costing me a lot more than I normally spend. He seemed genuinely pleased to hear this news and he thanked me with, you guessed it, another free beer. Not to be outdone, I bought my regular waitress a lady drink.

Damages: Two beers (both free) and one lady drink.

SEVENTH STOP: WHISKEY GIRL

Back outdoors and the always dangerous crossing of the National Highway, then a stroll on the shoulder for several blocks to arrive at my next-to-last destination. My semi-regular Kim was with another customer, and my favorite, Jen, was absent. But before I could order my beer, a young lass was seated next to me. She asked if I remembered her, and I honestly didn’t. She reminded me that I had met her on her first night working several months ago. Oh yeah, nice to see you again.

Of course, I bought her a lady drink. Nikki also said I had promised to bring some of my brownies for her. I apologized and told her I would bring a batch for Saturday’s party (the manager had brought me a ticket for a free drink and raffle entry when I arrived). I won’t forget this time.

Damages: One beer (free) and one lady drink.

EIGHTH (AND LAST) STOP: QUEEN VICTORIA

Back across that damn highway and into my final venue of the night. A girl I didn’t recognize called out to me by name as I made my way to sit at the bar. Turns out she used to work on the Kokomo’s floating bar, but again, I didn’t remember her specifically. I was ready to finish my business, so I ordered my beer and offered her a lady drink, which she naturally accepted.

I’m not at Queen Victoria much, but when I visit, I usually am joined by a girl named Irish. I didn’t see her at first, but she came by later and appeared a little perturbed that I had neglected her. Well, I felt bad about that, but not bad enough to buy her a drink. She got her backpack and went home before I left. I’ll be back tonight for the SOB; perhaps I can treat her then.

Damages: One beer (free) and one lady drink.

So, it was an experience. I’ll just say that I hope any coupons I get tonight are more traditional discount varieties…I can’t afford those free beers on a regular basis!

They shall not grow old,
As we who are left grow old.
Age shall not weary them,
Nor the years condemn.
At the going down of the sun
And in the morning,
We will remember them.
Lest we forget.

I am now officially a member of the Returned and Services League, an Australian veterans organization. The verse above is recited as one of the membership rituals, followed by a minute of silence. The Subic chapter had about fifty in attendance for yesterday’s meeting, and several familiar faces were in the crowd at the gathering place, the Rock Lobster bar (before it opens to the public). One of the interesting aspects of this group is that all nationalities, regardless of veteran status, are welcome to join, unlike similar organizations such as American Legion or Veterans of Foreign Wars. I didn’t know much about the RSL other than seeing its members around town on Tuesday meeting days in their distinctive white shirts.

And now I’m one of them:

So, what inspired me to join this respectable group? Swan’s sister and brother-in-law are active in the organization. Swan talked about the many community charity projects the organization is involved with, including orphanage support, medical outreach programs, and providing food and other provisions for those in need. My membership dues (1200 pesos a year) assists with those activities. The weekly meetings also feature raffles to raise funds (I spent 700 on tickets yesterday). So, it’s all for a good cause, and I’m happy to do my part.

After the meetings, the group does a pub crawl, although I chose not to participate last night. I thought Swan was going to join me, but she had other plans. So, I went my own way and wound up at Sloppy Joe’s. Jim showed up a bit later, and we did our own bar visitation spree, enjoying Mugshots, Blue Butterfly, and Wet Spot before calling it a night.

And I spent more on beer than lady drinks, so that’s progress!

Swan and I talked through our misunderstanding this morning. Bottom line, she is just too uncomfortable to be seen with me out and about in our gossipy little town. We are planning a visit to San Antonio tomorrow to have a little one-on-one time.

And I saw something else moving about down below:

I didn’t do the Wednesday Walkers group hike today because I wanted some time with Swan, and I’m also tired of hiking in the rain every damn day. Hopefully, there will be some dryer beach walking in San Antonio.

If Facebook is any indication, this Barbie movie is a big deal, what with the gals all dressing up in pink to go to the theatre. My brother Greg posted this, which I felt compelled to share:

And then there was this:

Two tall trees, a birch and a beech, are growing in the woods. A small tree begins to grow between them, and the beech says to the birch, ‘Is that a son of a beech or a son of a birch?’ The birch says he cannot tell, but just then a woodpecker lands on the sapling.

The birch says, ‘Woodpecker, you are a tree expert. Can you tell if that is a son of a beech or a son of a birch?’

The woodpecker takes a taste of the small tree and replies, ‘It is neither a son of a beech nor a son of a birch. It is, however, the best piece of ash I have ever poked my pecker into.

Bada Bing! I’d just add you can always tell a dogwood tree by its bark.

That’s it for now. I’ll be heading into town a bit later to keep the bars in business and maybe disappoint some bargirls with my new cheap Charlie attitude. Or not. We’ll see.