With a couple of exceptions, I rarely read the comment sections on other blogs unless I’m leaving a comment myself. Assuming most of my readers are the same, you might have missed this one from a first-time commenter named Ted:

That Lydell seems like a handful  of fun. What’s her deal? I’m sure you’ve already asked her out and been let down easily, but boy does she have some excitement for you. Is the snack bar a kind of place where you need to buy lady drinks  so that would explain her enthusiasm for her best customers?  But then again, with only 2 or 3 girls they wouldn’t be able to entertain all their guests. You mentioned that the owner runs 2 businesses in the same town with the staff alternating between the establishments ,what’s the difference?

Also, does Lydell have a tattoo on her back that says ” property of gwapo = handsome man John” ? I’m speculating that you encouraged her, judging by that tight embrace that elicited a rare smile from the author who may be usually too shy to show his teeth in pictures. It is good to see you happy ….more like content and not worried about how your lame dad jokes will land or whether the other patrons are enjoying your music. I do declare, this was one of your best days ….normal and fulfilling. I guess that happens when you meet someone new and you can listen as much as you talk, and participate in a great conversation that meanders and ebbs in a natural flow even as you walk the stranger via familiar path. Somebody once said that , a man is at his most confident when he knows what he is doing and knows that he can do it well, without much thought and agenda.

Your readers are starting to get used to your routines now. The bi-weekly Hideaway visit with Joy , and the reverse conjugal visitation to your mountain retreat, then the daily hikes with the hash brothers. Then there are the solo hikes you do, then the shopping excursions, and then the irregular dart games. Were you this deliberately organized during your working days? I have never seen someone so actively engaged in so many routines in retirement, with so few companions or clubs. Other than walking and drinking , it occurs to me that you’re not a member of many clubs, activities, teams or associations. And yet, you’re more active than most seniors all over the world.

You must have a very strong impetus and drive to get out of bed each morning and do so many things, usually by yourself and still keep things interesting. Bravo.

Even the time you take to write here is one of the marvels of the world. You probably know the statistics already: most people who start a blog give up after a year. Which makes it all the more amazing because as far as I can tell, you don’t even have a particular target in mind when you write , no particular audience that you would like to communicate with via the blog. Nor does it seek like you’re recording these events in your life for posterity, or making notes for a book, or seeking fame and fortune, or passing the time because you’re bored. You write because you want to. And every day you write.

I would like to see  some of your self-driven impetus that moves you to continue this. This is the kind of drive that makes for successful people: CEO, Executives, Presidents , and survival experts who get stranded on abandoned islands. The kind of self-sufficiency that lead people to survive the harshest conditions, people who outlive death row and survive cults or gang warfare. Now I’m wondering which one you are… and realizing that you’re on a completely different level.

In case this note is not long enough. What’s up with the music videos you add at the end of each post? Are you a lyricist who can put any thoughts of yours to music ? Or do you listen to so much music that you can find a song for every event and day? Wait …that means you actually know the words to the songs  I just realized that. While us mere mortals just hum and mumble through an Elvis song, you probably know every word. Not only do you seem to know every word,but you seem to be able to connect to each lyric on a deeper level….or at least know what the words mean. Amirite? Perhaps you were a singer-songwriter in a previous life. Actually, that would explain a lot.

That might be the longest comment in the history of LTG. What impressed me, though, beyond the investment in time in writing it, was that a reader picked up on a lot of the nuances in my life I have written about without directly stating them. I didn’t think I was being that obvious. Anyway, I do enjoy getting feedback from my readers; it is one of the reasons I try and post something every day. I don’t want to disappoint anyone. Here is my response to Ted’s comment:

Hey there, Ted. Thanks for the comments. Very in-depth and some keen insights for a first-time commenter. I assume you’ve been reading the blog for a while. Let me try to address some of the points you raise.

Lydell is a friendly and fun gal, for sure. I haven’t asked her out (I don’t normally date the girls I meet in the bars). I’m not sure what her “deal” is, other than she’s in her early 20s with two kids working hard to support her family. No, Snackbar provides good service whether or not you buy any lady drinks. It’s a very small bar, so it doesn’t need a lot of bargirls.

Yep, you’ve pretty much nailed my daily routines. I’m impressed! I’ve honestly never really thought about it, but I’m probably more predictable in retirement than when I was working. Before, I had a work life and a home life to fill my days. Nowadays, I just take each day as it comes and do the best I can with it. I do live a relatively solitary life, no girlfriend (still hoping, though), no close friends to hang out with, and no clubs or groups other than the Hash and Wed/Fri walks. So my bar time is really what passes as my social life, which I guess, upon reflection, is a sad commentary on what I’ve become in old age.

I’m thankful I’m healthy enough to get out of bed every morning and go about my routines. I don’t really feel a sense of excitement about it; it is just what I do. Coffee and internet, feed and walk the dogs, walk myself, take a nap, write a blog post, play solitaire on the computer, and lately, watch a little TV. Then shower up and head out for a few hours in the bars, almost always home and in bed around nine, then wake up and do it all again. Over and over, day after day. Things can always change in the future–maybe I’ll find love again, and I do expect to start traveling more soon. I’m not unhappy with my life as it is–it could be better, but I’m glad it is not worse.

As for the blog, I guess I’ve come to think of it as a diary. When I first started writing Long Time Gone over seventeen years ago, it was intended as a way to stay in touch with family and friends back home and let them know what was happening after my move to Korea. These days I don’t think any of my family or friends from those days ever even read the blog. According to my blog stats, I have a little over 200 daily visitors here. I’m surprised so many find anything of interest in my daily ramblings, but I am very appreciative that people come and visit. I always look forward to the few comments I get, and I enjoy engaging with and responding to comments like yours. Thanks again!

Actually, that may be what motivates me to post every day–I don’t want to disappoint my faithful few readers, and it is also a way to share my life, thoughts, and “adventures.” in a way I’m apparently incapable of doing in person. I’ve thought about someday picking out the “best of LTG” posts over the years and doing one of those self-published books as my “legacy,” but I doubt I’ll ever get around to it. I’d rather spend the time living in the moment rather than look back on where I’ve been.

Ha, your comment about the songs I post made me laugh. I challenge myself to come up with a unique title for each day’s blog, and after seventeen years, that is becoming more and more difficult. Sometimes a song that seems to fit the narrative of the post, even in an obscure way, serves the purpose. Yesterday’s “Friends in Low Places” is a good example of that. But yeah, I listen to a lot of music when I’m on my solo walks. And I’ve always loved good lyrics, and I do commit them to memory. It’s funny, last night I was singing along with a song at the bar, and the bargirl next to me asked, “how do you know the words to that old song?” It was from the 1980s. What could I say except “because I’m old too.”

When I was a much younger man, I fancied myself a writer. I wrote some poems and short stories but nothing worthy of accolades (kind of like this blog now that I think about it). I guess trying to put your inner feelings into words is what a songwriter does. And my favorite songs are the ones that I can relate to on some level.

I hope you continue reading LTG, Ted. I’ve always said that my blog is never totally worthless; people can always say, “thank God I’m not that guy!” It means a lot that you actually enjoy coming here, and I was impressed that you knew my routines so well (bi-weekly visits to Hideaway, yep, every Wed/Sun). I look forward to hearing from you again.

I spent more time on my response to Ted than I do on most of my blog posts, so I thought it was worth sharing for all to see. And a big thanks to all my readers, commenters or not, for taking the time to visit LTG. It means more to me than you know. And if there is ever anything you want to know about, feel free to ask in the comments. My life is an open book. Or website.

Yesterday’s Hash went fine. The Hares laid a mostly paved trail that would be appropriate in the event of rain. It wound up not raining during the Hash hours, so that effort was for naught. The trail itself was very familiar to me–most of it is part of my standard Sunday walk. I thought it was kind of funny that I hadn’t made that walk on Sunday because I needed to hike to the ATM in Subic, but here I was, making up for it on Monday’s Hash.

My only real complaint about the trail was that the Hares had included five checkpoints on the relatively short 5K hike. I dislike checkpoints during the best of circumstances, but these seemed especially unnecessary and pointless. For those who don’t know, a checkpoint on the trail requires that you explore in all possible directions for the “true trail.”

So, basically, you’ll be marching along, and then you see the dreaded checkpoint symbol. In order to find the proper trail, you need to go fifty yards or so in all possible directions until you find chalk or powder indicating you are On-On. This can be frustrating and, to me, just creates unnecessary confusion. Yesterday, I guessed right on four of the five checkpoints, so didn’t have to backtrack. And the one I guessed wrong, I just proceeded on my own path until I worked my way back to the actual trail. So, no big deal, but as I said, it just makes things more difficult and confusing. The original purpose of a checkpoint was to keep the pack together by slowing down the runners. For that to work, though, the first runner who finds the true trail is supposed to go back to the checkpoint and indicate the proper path for those that follow. That never happens at our Hash. Okay, rant over.

Our On-Home was at a place called Yeros, and it was only our second time visiting this venue. It’s got nice covered outdoor seating and plenty of room for our Hash circle. They have a pretty extensive menu, and despite the crowd (there were over forty of us), they provided good service. The food was just average tasting, but the prices were good. I had two smallish chicken shwarmas for only 120 pesos (less than $3.). The beer was cold and plentiful, and this week (I only drink beer on Hash night), it tasted much better than last time. I’ll be glad to reach my target weight and switch back to beer full-time. I’m making slow progress, though, because the gin reduces my resistance to my sweet tooth. Ah, well, first-world problems and all that.

Here are some photos from our trek:

After the Hash, I walked up the highway for some more beers at the Snatchbar (technically, Snackbar, but when the (female) owner refers to it as Snatchbar, I guess I can too.) I’m going to start calling Kamto (same owner) Cameltoe from now on, too.

I made it an early night, home before eight, but then again, my first beer was at an earlier than normal 4 p.m. It’s all about pacing yourself and knowing when to say when. I’m a drinker but not a drunk, and I intend to keep it that way.

Suffered throughout the day yesterday from the hangover effects of my overindulgence on Friday night. I still managed an abbreviated morning Barretto walk and watched another episode of Manifest, but not much else. They say the best cure is the same medicine (but in more reasonable doses), so I headed on into town to partake.

Started out at It Doesn’t Matter. Nice chat with my buddy Chris and some drinks for my favorite waitress, Agnes. I had three soda waters with gin, then moved on to Hot Zone. It was owner Jay’s birthday, so I had two more drinks as part of the celebration.

My next stop was Wet Spot to get a first-hand account of my drunken behavior the night before. Sat with the manager, Bret, and got the low down. He confirmed that I had taken a tumble on stage whilst trying to collect my raffles coupon (the rule is you remove the prize with your mouth. They are usually stuck in the young lady’s cleavage. Apparently, I lost my balance bending down to do the deed). And yes, I had a loud sneezing fit (Aine said she could hear me all the way in the comfort room). While I didn’t engage in any rude or obnoxious behavior, I did attempt to sing into the MC’s microphone. And no, I still don’t remember any of that happening.

I intended to make Wet Spot my final stop for the evening, but as I finished my second drink, I got a message from the gals at Kamto saying they were waiting for me there. How could I refuse? So, I hoofed it on up the highway. I was low on cash, but the owner assured me I could pay my tab the next day, so the party was on. Bought all the girls a couple of lady drinks and some food from Kamto’s kitchen. I had two more (or was it three?) drinks and called it a night. I’ve got a tab of just over 3000 pesos to pay when I go out this evening.

Anyway, I did a much better job at controlling my intake and keeping my wits about me. I think Friday was just an aberration.

My neighbor has three big-assed German Shepherds. They always bark like crazy when I walk past his house, but he does keep them securely in his fenced yard. But not this morning. As I was completing my dog walk today, they were all out in the street. When they saw Buddy and Lucky, they went into attack mode. Well, two kind of held back, but one immediately went for Lucky’s throat. He had him pinned and was biting, and I was doing my best to whip him away with my leash. Then Buddy jumped in to defend his little stepbrother, and the Sheperd let go. I’m yelling and screaming and kicking this whole time and somehow didn’t get bit. Then I picked up a rock, and the kraut dog backed off. I scurried my boys into the safety of our yard, and they both seemed to be uninjured. Not the kind of excitement I’m looking for in my life.

The reason I didn’t have much cash last night was that the f’n ATMs in town were out of cash yesterday, at least the two I tried. So this morning, I went to the BPI in Subic town, hoping for a better result. I intended to walk there, but when I hit the highway, I decided the sooner I got to the ATM, the better. The last time I went on a Sunday, there had been a long line, and who knows how much cash was left to dispense. So, I caught a Jeepney instead. When I arrived, both ATMs were operational, and there was no line. I made my withdrawal without issue. Well, I did have to pee, so I walked over to the Jollibee and used their CR.

Then I walked the 6K back to Barretto. And took these photos along the way:

You can Relive my morning jaunt here if you’d like:

And that pretty much brings you up to date on my so-called life. There’s more to come, so stay tuned!

Not much to report regarding my activities since my previous post. But here goes anyway.

Started my evening at Blue Butterfly, where I once again shared drinks and convo with Tanya. She had a small taste of the brownies I brought her, said they were good, and told me she would be taking them home to her daughter. Fine by me.

A couple of more drinks at Cheap Charlies, then I got a message from Snackbar that Ron was wanting me to join him there. Sure, why not? I met a friend of his who is a musician, and we had a grand time talking about music from the good ol’ days. I was drafted for DJ duties, and the first request was for Elton John. Before I could queue up the second request, Spotify started playing the next tune (I don’t remember which one), and everyone wanted to hear that. Same with the next and the ones after. I guess Spotify knew what we were in the mood to listen to. Anyway, it was a fun way to pass some time before I headed home for the night.

I did my standard Thursday walk, basically out to Naugsol and back. Wound up crossing the river on bridge #4, then again on bridge #2, and a final crossing on bridge #1. Today our group hike started at bridge #6, and we hiked to Tibag and back, passing bridge #7 along the way. Hence, the convoluted title for this post.

I took a few pics on yesterday’s hike:

Just for clarity purposes, the Hashers have labeled all the bridges that run alongside Sawmill road sequentially. This helps with giving trail directions, “just start at bridge #3 and turn right after crossing the river…”

Feel free to Relive the hike if you’d like to see more.

Here it is, Friday again, and that means I’ll be heading out later for another SOB adventure. Tonight’s venue is Alaska Club, one of my favorites. I’ll be back tomorrow with a full report.

More or less. Whatever it was they injected into me; the result was damn near miraculous. I was still feeling weak and unsteady, so last night I opted to visit the bar nearest my place (Snackbar) and two others on the same block (Outback and Queen Victoria). I took it slow and easy, starting early and finishing early, and that seemed to work out well.

I woke up this morning still feeling some residual effects from my viral infection, A little pain in my head that some aspirin brought under control, and a reduced energy level that makes everything more difficult, especially motivation to get off my ass and do something.

I hadn’t walked myself in four days either, so I set about seeing what I had in me. Before I got sick, my standard Saturday hike was on the backstreets of Barretto. It’s around 8K and mostly flat. I figured I could give it a go and always bail if it got to be too much. And after 3K, I knew I wasn’t ready, so I eliminated the Abra street and Columban College loops. Left me with a 5K trail, and that was good enough for this tired old man.

You can Relive the walk here if you are so inclined.

I hadn’t been home long when my doctor sent a message saying the lab report on my blood work had been received. She asked if I could come to the office to discuss some potential issues. That made me a little nervous, but what am I going to do?

Dr. Jo’s main area of concern is that my blood platelets are almost off the charts low, and not in a good way. I’m currently at 77, and the “low normal” is 150. She urged me to be careful when I’m out because a fall or a cut could result in excessive bleeding. Yeah, one more thing to worry about. We are going to continue to monitor this stat, and I’ll do a follow-up lab in a couple of weeks.

And that’s pretty much where things stand as of now. It’s Saturday night, so naturally, I’m going out, but my enthusiasm level is pretty low. The fact of the matter is I’m just so damn tired all the time. Doc says that will pass as my body defeats the virus; here’s hoping that’s soon.

My grammar and writing are so poor you probably won’t notice, but his post has been a comedy of errors. My fingers can’t seem to find the right keys. Here’s hoping for a better tomorrow!

…and going on thirty. Happy Anniversary to the Subic Bay Hash House Harriers!

I enjoyed yesterday’s short version of the trail (4K) quite a lot. It had a tough climb up to the top of Kalaklan ridge, and then it was all downhill from there. Ninety-four attendees (about double our usual turnout), including contingents from Puerto Galera and Angeles City. I’ll share photos from the event at the end of this post.

My other news from Monday is my visit to the doctor. Once again, I had the full attention of two physicians (husband and wife) for nearly an hour. Not all doc talk either; some pleasant banter and chat were also included. My primary complaint is the nasal congestion I’ve been dealing with for several months now. The previous doctor I consulted wanted to perform surgery to remove some bloated nodules in my nasal passages. I’m just not comfortable with the idea of being under general anesthesia during the operation. Way back in the day, a healthy teenage friend was having minor knee surgery and never woke up. I’m still not ready for the big sleep.

Anyway, Dr. Jo and her husband both agreed that other courses of action should be pursued rather than surgery. So I’m doing a new regimen of drugs and natural remedies to hopefully alleviate the congestion and shrink my nose modules. Time will tell if it works.

I also discussed my vaccination dilemma. Like me, they both have real concerns about the long-term impact of the vaccines on the body’s immune system, noting that people who are vaxxed appear more likely to contract the latest COVID variants. I mentioned reading stories about otherwise healthy people, including three doctors in Canada, mysteriously dropping dead after receiving booster shots. They agreed that since I’ve had COVID already, there is no medically justifiable reason for me to risk the side effects associated with the vaccination. When I explained my visa situation and my need to leave and then be able to return to the PI, they were sympathetic. I asked, of all the vaccines out there, which one, in their opinion, was potentially the least damaging. They both said Sinovac. The Chinese vaxx? Well, I guess it makes sense since it’s a Chinese virus. The medical reason is that it apparently doesn’t modify the body’s immune system in the way the other vaccines do.

I’ve also had other discussions about getting documentation of vaccination through sources that don’t require getting jabbed. I considered that option long and hard, but in the end, it just seemed too risky. The ones suggesting that course of action have proof of being vaccinated in the USA. Well, okay, if I go that route, and someone at immigration takes a closer look, I’d have a hard time explaining how I got vaxxed in the USA when my passport shows I haven’t left the Philippines since 2019. So, today I asked my helper to find out where I can get a Sinovac shot. I really don’t have a choice. The Philippines is the only country in Asia that I know of still requiring a vaxx for entry. I kept hoping they’d wise up, but that seems more and more unlikely, at least during my diminishing timeline for departure. Oh well. COVID didn’t kill me; maybe the vaxx won’t either.

So oddly enough, I couldn’t remember one of the memories Facebook shared with me today.

Ah, yeah. I blogged about her in a post called There’s something about Mary. After re-reading that, I am pretty sure I was intentionally trying to forget all about her. Not one of my finer moments. Although it did have a residual impact on my getting to know Iline. That didn’t work out either, of course, but I have no regrets about trying.

Wow. That just triggered a memory of the movie The Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind. That’s a great film that I’ve not thought of in ages. Hmm, maybe losing my mind won’t be an entirely pointless journey. We’ll just have to wait and see what might happen next.

By the way, I’m baking brownies now, but I set my phone alarm to trigger my memory about removing them from the oven. Thanks for the tip, Kevin!

Okay, let’s do those Hash photos, shall we? (Just a reminder, these are from a collection by several Hashers, including me.)

It was definitely the best anniversary run we’ve had this year!

And I didn’t burn the brownies!

Life is good.

The Wednesday Walkers didn’t let a little rain dampen their enthusiasm for a hike. Well, it didn’t for Scott and me. We are also the Hares for Monday’s Hash, so we took the opportunity to do a little scouting for our upcoming trail. We are anticipating it will be rainy, a pretty safe bet this time of year, so we are planning accordingly with a mostly flat and mostly paved hike of around 6K.

We walked through the Santa Monica subdivision and encountered a bit of flooding, but otherwise didn’t have any issues besides pulling out the umbrellas now and then. So we should be good to go come Monday.

Here’s how things looked out there:

My Wednesday night included a birthday party at Alley Cats, a pizza party at Hideaway Bar, and playing the role of DJ at Kamto. Oh, and lots of gin and soda. Not a bad way to pass the hours.

Rainy day people always seem to know when you're feeling blue
High stepping strutters who land in the gutters sometimes need one too
Take it or leave it, or try to believe it
If you've been down too long

Rainy day lovers don't hide love inside they just pass it on

Yesterday’s trip took us out to a remote part of San Marcelino known as New Zealand. I’m not sure why. I’ve never been to the actual NZ, but maybe it has a similar appearance. It took us about an hour and a half to get there from Barretto, and the area we hiked was uninhabited–the first time I can remember not seeing any kids around for cookie distribution. Very beautiful though, and a much different landscape than I’m accustomed to seeing in my neck of the woods.

One thing contributing to the uniqueness of the topography is the impact that the eruption of Mount Pinatubo had on this area back in 1991. One of the massive lahar flows created Lake Mapanuepe in the area we visited. We had to cross this lake by Banca boat to reach the campground, where our hike commenced. The only other way you can access this area is with a four-wheel-drive vehicle.

And that’s really the downside of coming here–it’s just too damn difficult to reach. After our long drive, we parked at the lake and arranged for the Banca boat roundtrip to the other side of the lake. When Martin scouted the area last week, he was charged 400 pesos for the ten-minute ride, which is laughably overpriced. Yesterday they wanted 500 pesos for the same trip; I guess the increase was in the “white skin tax” merchants sometimes impose on foreigners. Well, we didn’t have any choice but to pay up, but it put me in a foul mood and soured any thoughts of a return visit. Oh well, that’s the worst that happened on the trip, so I guess I shouldn’t complain.

Hope you enjoy these photos from the adventure:

And that was my day in Barretto. I’ll talk about the night in another post.

Day 2 of the no-beer lifestyle is in the books. I did better at managing my intake of gin as well, and although I had a nice buzz going, I didn’t do anything stupid like spend 3500 pesos on lady drinks. That’s progress!

Two drinks at It Doesn’t Matter along with some nice chat with Max the Dutchman. He and a couple of others had burgers at IDM, but I decided to visit Sit-n-Bull for my evening meal.

After a couple more drinks at the Snackbar, I called it a night and took a trike home. Yeah, my life is just oozing excitement these days. Sorry!

I weighed in after my hike and registered a 211.7. Down a couple of pounds from where I started, but it could be the water weight I sweated off during my walk. Still, it’s a move in the right direction, so I ain’t complaining.

And that’s all I’ve got for now.

It’s going to be an adjustment to learn to pace myself when drinking gin. One idea I have is to have the can of soda served along with a tall glass with one shot of gin. Then I can keep refilling the glass as I drink, diluting the strength of the gin and making each serving last longer. I did this over the course of the three hours I was in attendance at the SOB and did relatively well. I still need to slow down some, but I’ll learn my limit soon.

I had some cash flow issues again. I couldn’t find an ATM with cash left to dispense. I don’t normally have a problem keeping cash on hand. I do a 40,000 peso pull once a week when I go grocery shopping, and that carries me through. This week I had some unusual expenses and was down to only 3000 pesos when I started my Friday night out. Entrance to the SOB costs 700, and I had dinner for me and Aine delivered from Sit-n-Bull, so I was running nearly on empty after that. Luckily, the SOB was at Wet Spot, and they accept credit cards so I was able to keep Aine plied with lady drinks throughout the show.

Near the end of the SOB, I got a message from my friend at Kamto resto-bar. She said my friend Johnny was there and I should come to entertain them with my Spotify playlists. I mentioned my shortage of funds, and she said I could run a tab and pay tomorrow. So, that’s what I did. You know, I’m a generous guy, and apparently, gin triggers me to be extra generous. When I stopped by to pay my tab today, I was surprised that I had spent over 3600 pesos last night at Kamto, mostly on lady drinks. I think that might be a record for me in one bar.

My walk mission this morning was to head into Subic-town and restock my cash supply at the BPI ATM. It’s a little over a 5K hike to get there, and I also intended to walk back. This belly ain’t going away unless I force it to by bumping up my step count. So, two birds, one stone kind of thing. Except when I arrived at the ATM, this is what I saw:

I took a Jeepney ride back to Barretto. After paying my tab at Kamto, my cash level was once again beneath my comfort level. Then I remembered I had forgotten to pay my helper yesterday, so I wired some extra to her to give me via Western Union, and now I’m once again able to do my Saturday night in style. Ain’t life grand?

Alright, here are a few photos from the Friday hike. We were calling it an umbrella walk because it had been raining all morning. But once we got started, we never had to open our umbrellas. It didn’t rain again until we were having lunch at Kamto. The rain gods were smiling upon us, that’s for sure.

And that, my friends, brings you up to date. Now it’s time for me to exercise.

Goodbye, heart. Hey, not so fast! We just met.

Rainy season has arrived. Big storm passing through delayed my departure from home, but I timed a break in the rain right, and I made it to It Doesn’t Matter dry. Another cloudburst left me stuck there longer than I intended, but I eventually made it to John’s place for some supper. I had a Philly cheesesteak sandwich and got takeout bulgogi and rice for Joy at Hideaway. On the way there, I picked up a roasted chicken from Chooks for the other girls. A few beers later, I was back on the highway and headed for Cheap Charlies.

I was in for a bit of a surprise when I arrived. I still have my old girls on ignore, and my new favorite wasn’t working. So, I settled in, expecting I’d be drinking alone. And then a cute young thing (25, no kids) sat down next to me and said, “Hello, John.” I asked her if we had met before, and she told me, yes, but she had been back in her province for the past two years, and this was her first night working again at Cheap Charlies. Well, welcome back. Get yourself a drink. And what was your name again? “Marilou.” Good to see you!

I asked if she was on Facebook, and she told me we were already friends. I opened my messenger, and there she was. I saw our last communication was where she was asking for help for her sick mother last year. I hadn’t responded because I didn’t remember who she was, and I get similar requests frequently. I felt bad when I learned that her mother had passed away. I bought her another drink and told her all my new old jokes she hadn’t heard during her absence. She laughed hilariously and maybe even sincerely. We chatted some, and she expressed interest in joining me on a hike one day. Since it was her first day at work, she doesn’t know when her scheduled day off will be, but she promised to let me know, and we’d get together then. Stay tuned for what happens (or doesn’t) next.

Finished my evening at Kamto and had a pleasant enough time. There was one guy there, an old fat Brit I didn’t know. But I overheard him talking about my friend and saying, “I have enough money to win her.” He obviously doesn’t know her the way I do, but it made me sad to know he saw her that way. I wasn’t in the mood for a train wreck, so I called it a night.

This morning Facebook slapped me with this memory:

Oh, well. That old fat guy no longer exists, but the belly lives on.

I did my usual Monday morning Baloy Beach walk.

And here we are, another Hash this afternoon, then back to the beach for the On-Home at Treasure Island. You can read all about it here tomorrow.

I saw your lips I heard your voice
Believe me I just had no choice
Wild horses couldn't make me stay away
I thought about a moonlit night
My arms about good an' tight
That's all I had to see for me to say

Hey, hey, hello Mary Lou, goodbye heart
Sweet Mary Lou, I'm so in love with you
I knew Mary Lou, we'd never part
So hello Mary Lou, goodbye heart

More of the same for me. Today will be Hash Monday with some beer on the side. Yesterday I enjoyed a pulled pork sandwich and beer at John’s place. John has just published his new menu, and since at least one of my readers is a foodie, I thought I’d share it here:

Overall, I’d rate this the best quality food in town. John takes pride in what he serves, and it shows. If it seems a little pricey (I figure it as 50 pesos to the dollar), it’s because he will only use the best ingredients. That means late-night road trips to the fish market in Bataan or the meat market in Manila. The taste is worth the effort, so says I.

Speaking of food, after my meal, I popped into the Hideaway Bar to see Joy and the girls. Joy was hungry, and I asked what she wanted–she responded a taco from the Coffee Shop. I sent one of the waitresses across the street to get 1000 pesos worth (they are P150 each).

I drank some more beer and enjoyed watching the gals devour their taco dinner.

When I’d finished my duties at Hideaway, I headed on up the highway towards home. I knew I had one more stop left in me, but where? Mother Nature, in the form of my bladder, dictated that would be Cheap Charlies. I guess word got out because last night I was completely ignored by the bargirls. Well, the bartender made them bring me my beers, but no one attempted to sit with me. Fine by me, I’d rather drink alone than with rude company. Saves me money too! I had three beers to prove my point, then grabbed a trike for home.

This morning, I did my usual Monday 5K walk to Baloy Beach and back.

Oh, and I have this photo of the retaining wall on Govic highway that I like:

In other news, via Facebook memories comes this photo of my old Korean girlfriend (Say Wha?). She doesn’t like her pictures posted on my pervy blog, so she will remain nameless here.

So, I guess I’ll end today’s post on a religious note:

The United States granted independence to the Philippines on July 4, 1946. In 1962, the Philippines changed the date of independence to June 12, in recognition of the date in 1898 when independence from Spain was declared. The backstory is that the date change was tantamount to giving the finger to the USA. I doubt that any American gave a shit, though.

But it did open the door to this:

Anyway, it was a good time, as far as I recall. I don’t remember paying my bill, but the contents of my wallet say I must have. I took a trike back to Barretto and went to Kampo for dinner, but I don’t remember what I had to eat. I vaguely recall finishing the night at Queen Victoria, but that’s pretty fuzzy too.

Started early and finished early. That’s my style these days.

Can you wonder what lies beyond? Though you've been
There before and forget about the effort and the strain
Always ascending, each yard as a mile to the never ending pull
Of the steepening grade that's before you

It's no matter, no distance, it's the ride

How’s this for a Sunday?

I was up earlier than usual, and my boys were feeling lazy.

Of course, they are always up in time for the dog walk. I really enjoyed this one–something about the clouds and the mountains was making me feel glad to be living in the moment.

Feeling inspired when I returned home, I set about making some breakfast.

I’m one of the Hares for this week’s Hash, and so we went out to mark our trail. There was some debate about whether to wait until Monday morning to do the marking. The issue is that if you mark a day early and it rains, a lot of that work will be erased. On the other hand, if you wait until the morning of the Hash, you may encounter weather problems or other unforeseen issues with the intended trail and not have adequate time to rectify them. Blow My Pipe wanted to wait, and Pubic Head wanted to mark early. I wanted to go early and also go back out on Monday to do any necessary touch-ups. In the end, Pubic Head and I marked the trail yesterday with the caveat that should it rain, Blow My Pipe and I would remark the trail today. We had some light rain but not enough to require a revisit. Win!

Our trail is a bit over 7K but mostly flat. We are starting at Bridge #4 in Naugsol, which requires a truck ride, but it couldn’t be helped. Our On-Home is at Da’Kudos on Baloy Beach, so we didn’t have a lot of options. Our trail has a couple of short uphills, but nothing too strenuous. My least favorite part is walking through a rice paddy overgrown with grass. Makes it hard to see or follow the trail. We’ll see how that works out today. We finish up by going through Matain and then taking a boat ride across the river to Baloy Beach.

I had my hands full with powder and chalk, so I wasn’t able to get many photos from the trail. Here is a couple, though:

After completing our mission, we had lunch and beers at Johan’s. I took a trike home from Baloy and had a nap. I had to rush around to get to It Doesn’t Matter in time for the Sunday raffle. Well, I thought I had to rush around. I arrived before 5:00 and bought my usual six tickets for 500 pesos. The owner told me the raffle wasn’t going to start around 6:00. Oh well, I just chilled and drank beers. Also bought my waitress, Agnes, several lady drinks. Six o’clock came and went with no sign of movement towards starting the raffle. By 6:30, I was frustrated and said fuck it, paid my tab, and left. Agnes said she would take care of anything I might win. She messaged me later that I had won some more discount coupons–my favorite prize. Anyway, I won’t be participating in future raffles because my time is more valuable to me than the potential prizes. The raffle is for charity, but I can find other ways to contribute.

I was in a sour mood when I crossed the highway and entered Cheap Charlies. I ordered up my usual, and like clockwork, my two regulars were seated on either side of me. They didn’t have anything to say to me, mind you, just sat there expectantly waiting for me to buy them a drink. I had a surprise for them this time–I finished my beer, paid my tab, and walked out. They appeared to be stunned. Rule #1 is: Don’t be a sucker. Rule #2 is: Don’t be stupid. I need to get better at following the rules.

I crossed the highway again and decided to give BarCelona a try. I was hoping my “friends” at Cheap Charlies saw me taking my business elsewhere. Alas, as usual, the service at BarCelona sucked. It seems if you decline to buy a lady drink, you are ignored. I practically had to beg to get my second beer served, and after that, all the joy had gone out of my evening. I caught a trike downstairs and went home early.

Dinner awaited me in the crockpot.

I’ve decided to do the Hash trail with the group this afternoon. Doing my own trail is a first for me as a Hare. At least I won’t get lost!

Then take it as far as you see and beyond
With eyes you don't use enough to gather up strength
As thoroughfare gap, what awaits is whatever you see
When you get there or even before

It's no matter, no distance, it's the ride

Heard some sad news this morning. One of our town’s expat characters, JR Welch, committed suicide. I wasn’t close to JR, but just about everyone knew him. If he was nearby, you knew it–he was that loud and boisterous. A proud Army vet who knew how to have a good time in the bars. He was married to another acquaintance of mine, and they recently had a baby boy. Judging from the Facebook posts I’d seen, they were living a good and happy life, making it all the more shocking. You just never know what’s really going on. And perhaps there is more to the story; I saw this comment posted on FB today:

 I talked to a friend who is one of the lead investigators. They are saying suicide, and I told my friend B.S. as JR is a new Dad. In my opinion, foul play. I saw the pics, and JR’s throat was slashed. Now they are waiting on the coroner’s autopsy report.

Again, I wasn’t close to the man, but he certainly didn’t strike me as someone who would quit at anything, especially life. I’ve heard of murders being called suicide in the past–saves the police all that investigative work. And the lives of foreigners aren’t exactly valued here. Let’s hope the truth comes out, whatever it might be.

I finished second in the dart tourney last night. I threw well, but Billy threw better. I enjoyed the games, if not the outcome.

Kevin Kim posted about some controversy he created in the comments section of a blog we both read. I don’t bother much these days arguing with internet strangers; there’s not much point when you know minds won’t be changed. But I did get sucked into some drama when I answered the question, “Why do some clubs in Korea not allow foreigners inside?” this way:

Well, I lived in Korea for 12 years before retiring and moving to the Philippines. I do recall the clubs with the “Koreans only” signs out front. I didn’t really care because I don’t want to go where I’m not wanted.

I can only speculate on the reasons why foreigners weren’t welcome. But after moving to the PI, I was amused to learn that the Filipina bargirls have a universal nickname for Korean men: “triple three.” Of course, I had to ask what that meant. They laughed and said, “three inches, three minutes, three thousand pesos.”

Maybe Korean guys don’t like to compete with a full-sized man?

Yeah, I was trying to be funny. Although that really is what bargirls here call Korean men. Naturally, I awoke a couple of humorless scolds. Brina Domingez had this to say:

To say that Korean men don’t like to compete with full-size men is hilarious, especially coming from a white guy! White men are not known for being big by any means, even against Asian men. Why not take your white superiority mindset to America or Africa, and I betcha there’ll be a nickname for you. That probably explains why you’re In Asia. Your white superiority got you thinking you’re a God in Asia when back home you ain’t 💩. For the Filipina who made that comment about the 3 threes can easily apply that nickname to her fellow men bc the avg Filipino men are packing 4.2 in. ERECT. GTFOH. Lol.

Well, damn. I’m a white supremacist now. Who knew? I responded to her this way:

I have something else to be thankful for today: I am not you and I don’t know anyone as ignorant as you. I humorously told a story, and that makes me a white supremacist? Jesus, people like you, are why I have no desire to live in the USA.

I let Brina have the last word on Quora because I honestly don’t care enough to argue with her:

Humorous? No, you took a jab at Korean men then you finished your original comment with the “full size” crap which many can refute . Also, you don’t know me at all to make any kind of judgment especially like being ignorant. YOUR comment was ignorant, arrogant and you generalized Korean men and supported that generalization with a lame comment from of all ppl a Filipina. We all know the relation between the two aren’t always great so an opinion of one must be taken with a grain of salt. Thank goodness you aren’t here but sad you are there feeding the Filipino population with your white superiority views about us in America.

Ah, well. It’s all my skin color’s fault, I’m not responsible for anything I say or do. Someone named Jace Nation also took offense:

Weird the only dudes I know who go to the Philippine for sex tourism are middle age white American. Quite common to hear about child abuse there from American. Maybe grown women didn’t really want them back home.

Yeah, right. This is how I responded to Ms. Jace:

It’s weird that you think that way, and it also proves you don’t know what the hell you are talking about. To the extent men do come here to escape women who think as you do, can they really be blamed?

The world has gone mad.

You know, despite the impression I might create here with some of my posts, I am not in the Philippines for the sex. I had really hoped to find a loving Filipina to share my golden years. That hasn’t worked out yet. I’ve talked about the “friends with benefits” program I tried for a while, but that too seemed wrong somehow. Now, I just go about my days doing the things I enjoy and trying not to obsess about the things I miss and want and don’t have. I’ve accepted the reality of my solitary life. But that being said, I still get regular entreaties from ladies who want to spend time with me and my wallet. I mostly just say no nowadays, but that’s not always easy. Especially when they attach photos to their pleas:

She actually sent several more photos; some are even more revealing. She’s a cutie, that’s for sure. I’m a man who has not been known for his ability to resist feminine charms. Maybe just once more. Does that make me a bag guy? Or worse yet, a white supremacist?

By the way, the expats in my little town come from all over the world. Like their skin color, their motivations for being here vary. We all don’t fit in the same box (no pun intended).

But enough of this nonsense; let’s talk about those Three Crosses. It’s a local monument high in the hills above the Santa Rita barangay in Olongapo. Our Friday group climbed up there yesterday for a look-see. It was my first time out that way, and seeing all the new views was almost a religious experience. The steps to the top were crucifyingly difficult, but in the end, we nailed it. Jesus, puns this bad are almost criminal. Okay, I’ll stop and tell the story with the photos we took.

We eventually found it. A challenging but very nice and beautiful hike. I’m glad I had the experience.

…if it’s gone.

That won’t stop me from writing about it here, of course. Although as far as yesterdays go, this one was nothing special.

I’ve decided to end my experiment with the “On this day” series of old blog posts. It was a pain in the ass and not all that interesting, even to me. For example, after scrolling through seventeen years of May 18, this was the best I had to offer: What a pisser. Maybe I’ll modify the concept by only posting when something significant occurred on that day. We’ll see.

Of course, in addition to the blog archives, I’ve got Facebook besieging me with memories all the time. The hardest ones to take are the photos of Jee Yeun and me sharing what I thought was a happy life. But other ones aren’t so bad:

After doing my weekly grocery shopping, I sent my driver and helper home without me. I walked over to the mall to fill in some of the missing pieces in my life, like a fast charger for my phone and some socks. Got the charger, still looking for the socks.

I was first in darts last night. First out, that is. I had a rookie partner, and his darts were, um, all over the place inconsistent. Still, I don’t mind playing with a newbie, especially if they are willing to listen and learn. I can’t tell you how to hit a target; that comes from practice. I can, however, tell you which target to aim for and why. The guy I was partnered with last night appreciated that and seemed to understand the concepts. He’ll be OK with a bit more practice.

I was surprised to see it raining when I left Alley Cats. Hard! I made a dash across the highway and into Mango’s for some supper and didn’t get too soaked. Ordered up my usual pork chops but was told they were out of stock.

Speaking of weight loss–I did my weekly weigh-in and came in at 213.8–that’s a loss of 2.3 pounds. It’s a start; still a long way to go to get to 199 again. More gin, less beer!

It’s not raining this morning, so I’m off for the Wednesday Walkers gathering. Dart league in the afternoon on Baloy Beach. Looks like I’ll be making some new old memories.

“There’s no time to lose,” I heard her say
“Catch your dreams before they slip away
Dying all the time
Lose your dreams
And you will lose your mind
Ain’t life unkind?”

I hope so anyway. At least. Whatever the future holds, I have now arrived at the fourth anniversary of my move to the Philippines. To the extent that I had a plan, things haven’t gone the way I expected. On the other hand, it’s been an interesting journey on the road to the unknown. I’m probably as happy as I’m ever going to be, given the nature of my personality. And while I’ve experienced some setbacks and disappointments, on balance, I’m living the dream. Seriously, I’m a 66-year-old man spending his golden years surrounded by hot young Filipinas. Beats the hell out of being stuck in some sterile retirement home environment. Sometimes you just have to embrace life for what it is and know that each day is a new adventure with an unforeseeable outcome. I’m getting better at doing that. So, my big insight on living four years in the Philippines is simply this: I’m a lucky bastard!

I did expect I’d be in a loving relationship by now. None of my feeble attempts at achieving that goal have worked out. In retrospect, perhaps that’s for the best. It’s far better to be alone than to be with the wrong one.

Anyway, I’m growing more and more accustomed to the life of a single man, and it certainly has its benefits. Lots of guys I know who are in relationships seem to envy my lifestyle for some reason. Maybe variety truly is the spice of life!

Take yesterday, for instance. I got my grocery shopping out of the way, then the mountain girl came over and gave me the kind of massage I really enjoy. After that, I baked up some brownies and delivered them to Joy at Hideaway.

Next up was the darts tournament at Alley Cats.

Last night was also the first go at taking steps to reduce my beer belly by reducing my beer intake. The scale will be the ultimate judge (I’ll weigh in again next Tuesday), but I had around 50% fewer beers than usual, so that’s a good start.

And then, after darts, I wandered over to Mango’s for some chow.

I finished my night with a stopoff at Whiskey Girl bar. Haven’t been in there for quite some time. Under new management and I must say the gals were friendly and good looking. Given my beer reduction goals, I only stayed for one beer. Bought two lady drinks for the gals who kept me company though.

So, that’s how I roll in my little retirement village known as Barrio Barretto. Long may I live!

Had a very pleasant hike with the Wednesday Walkers this morning. The dart league match this afternoon is at It Doesn’t Matter. I’ve never thrown there before, it should be fun. Full report tomorrow.

Here’s a little vocabulary lesson before I go:

Yesterday I spent some quality time doing what I do best–hiking, darting, and drinking. I’ll go into a bit more detail in reverse order. Oh, and just a quick update–Lyn didn’t make it yesterday, but she is en route now. So, if nothing else I’ll have some new material to blog about soon. Alright, on with today’s report.

After darts, I needed to get busy using some of those drinking coupons I won at the raffle. So, my first stop was Alaska Club. I had a buy one drink get one chit and ordered up my usual San Mig Zero (60 calories, 3% alcohol). Exchanged pleasantries with owner Jerry and bought my waitress a drink. There were four dancers on stage and one of them knew me by name but I had no recollection of her at all. I decided to call her down for a drink and a closer look.

We had a chat and she mentioned there was going to be a pool tournament in the bar later on. I asked if she played and she said she’d like to, but didn’t have money for the entry fee. So, I sponsored her with the required 200 pesos. She has her own pool cue and everything. I didn’t stick around after my “free” beer though, so don’t know how she did.

Next stop was Wet Spot. I also had a buy one get one coupon here, so ordered up. I didn’t notice either of my regulars here, so just watched the dancers on stage and sipped my beer. Then, seemingly out of nowhere, Aine appeared.

I had a buy a lady drink, get a customer drink coupon, so I put it to use. So, now I had two additional beers in my queue. Oh well. Aine was cold so we snuggled up some. Just small talk and then it was time for me to head out. As I was leaving, I ran into owner Dave, and he gave me another beer on the house. How could I refuse?

I had planned to visit Hot Zone next, but they were inexplicably closed (I learned later that the owner had taken his staff for an outing in Angeles City). I had to pee, so I crossed the street to Cheap Charlies.

A successful afternoon of darting too. We played the Queen Victoria team at Queen Vic and pounded them 11-2. My darts were all over the place, but I somehow managed to hit the bullseye often enough to go undefeated.

And that leaves hiking. But before I get to the Wednesday Walkers excursion, I need to share this memory from four years ago:

It was a good Wednesday!

Lyn should be arriving momentarily, so need to run for now. Stick around, it could get interesting!

…or am I just apathetic? Well, I don’t know, and I don’t care!

Sorry for the old joke. I thought of it because when I was responding to a question in the comments I got to thinking about my days as a mailman and some of the shit I would say to my supervisor. My being a smart-ass ultimately led to discipline and to me becoming a union steward to defend myself and other like-minded individuals. Which eventually resulted in my promotion to the management team in labor relations. By the end of my career journey, I was the Human Resources Manager for USFK/8th Army in Korea. It was quite a ride with lots of trials, tribulations, and adventures along the way. I mostly enjoyed the hell out of it.

Ah, well. I’m just another old man remembering the glory days.

Here in the present, life keeps plodding forward. Although I guess it might seem like a broken record. Geez, even my metaphors are aged. Who even remembers playing a damaged album on a record player? Anyway, you know what I mean. I hope.

Dinner at John’s Sushi and Steak last night. Although I had neither.

Yes, you read that right. I did indeed have a “date”.

As hard as it may be to believe, this 66-year-old man was out on the town and dining with a sweet 23-year-old woman. It was Joy’s idea to get together, although she had something else in mind. I wasn’t in the mood for tomfoolery, so I invited her to dinner instead. I gave her a nice tip for her trouble and time at the end of the evening. I guess that’s a win-win.

Honestly, I’m tired of questioning the lifestyle and my motives. It is what it is and I may as well make the best of it and enjoy myself. I’m a failure at love relationships but I can partake in the company of various young women to help fill the void. Maybe that’s enough.

After saying goodnight to Joy, I had some beers with Agnes at It Doesn’t Matter. I teased the owner about adding “we provide prompt service no matter how long it takes” as the bar’s motto, but I guess he didn’t see the humor in it. He said they will be making some changes to speed things up. I felt bad because I wasn’t really complaining, just trying to make a joke. Ah well.

I finished my night at one of the new places in town:

Thanks for dropping by. It’s good to have folks to share my glory days with.

In fact I think I'm going down to the well tonight
And I'm gonna drink till I get my fill
And I hope when I get old I don't sit around thinking about it
But I probably will
Yeah, just sitting back trying to recapture
A little of the glory yeah
Well time slips away and leaves you with nothing, mister, but
Boring stories of

Glory days, well they'll pass you by
Glory days, in the wink of a young girl's eye
Glory days, glory days

Some good comments on yesterday’s post, hope you’ll check them out if you haven’t already. I spent more time on my responses than I did on the original post, Not sure if that’s a good or bad thing, but I do enjoy the interactions with my readers.

Another whacked Wednesday is in the books. I’ll share some photos from the group hike at the end of this post. Dart league went well, with Lagoon defeating the Alley Hideout team, 9-4. I lost a singles game I shouldn’t have, but otherwise played well. Since I was already out in Baloy beach, I headed over to McCoy’s for a couple more beers after our match was over.

It was okay, I guess. But about three bites in, that hard shell exploded spewing some of the contents onto my shirt and shorts. And no, I wasn’t that drunk. The problem was I was wearing white shorts and now they were covered in red stains. There was no water available, so I poured some beer onto the mess and diluted the redness somewhat. My helper was able to clean the stains away this morning, so no great tragedy. Do I live an exciting life, or what?

Took a trike back into Barretto, and visited Joy in Hideaway for a bit. Then I moved on to Cheap Charlies, before finishing my evening at Wet Spot.

Had a little excitement on the dog walk this morning.

The excitement I mentioned came a couple of minutes later as I continued walking up the street–I encountered a live snake on the sidewalk! Appeared to be at least five feet long, but it slithered into the grass before I could snap a picture. Interestingly, the only place I’ve ever seen a snake in the Philippines is here in my neighborhood. And this is the first live snake I’ve come across. So, I know that snakes are out there but on all my hikes through the wilds, I’ve not witnessed any sign of those reptilian bastards. I hope it stays that way. A snakebite is not on my list of ways I might die in the Philippines.

Alright, the Wednesday Walkers did a pleasant enough hike through Alta Vista, over the My Bitch trail, then back down into the Naugsol valley. Nothing new or particularly exciting–and no signs of snakes!

Relive the hike here if you’d like:

Time marches on and so did we! More to come.