The dart tournament at Alley Cats last night proved to be quite the adventure. Well, as adventurous as throwing sharply pointed projectiles in a drinking establishment can be anyway. I drew Espie as a partner once again. We’ve enjoyed our share of success in previous tourneys notwithstanding our inexplicable bouts of inconsistency.

Alright, what do I mean by inconsistency? Here’s as good an example as any. I threw a ton-80, my second of the year, last night. That’s 180 points, three triple 20s, the highest score possible in the game of 501 we were playing, and a very rare event for us amateurs. So you’d think I was on my game. But my very next throw was something ridiculous like a 26 or some such bullshit. Still, with a 200+ point lead, you’d think the game was in the bag. But in this case, you would be wrong.

For those readers who don’t know the 501 game, it works like this: You start with 501 points. You throw your three darts, add up the total of your throw (e.g., a 20, a 1, and a 5=26) then subtract that from the 501. You continue throwing and deducting until you reach zero to win the game. The catch is you have to throw a “double out” to reach zero. That’s often harder than you’d think and there are lots of strategies on how to set yourself up for the win. For example, once you get below 100 points you want to leave yourself on an even number because every possible out is even.

In the first round of the tourney last night, Espie and I faced off against Troy and his partner, Jerlyn. Troy is a good darter but based on the Singles League stats, I can make a good argument that I’m better. Jerlyn is wild–she or no one else ever knows where her darts will land, although she does generally hit the board. Jerlyn seems to have more than her share of luck though–throws at the 20, misses wildly but hits a triple 18 for 54 points kind of thing. Espie is a much more reliable darter. So, I was quite confident we would prevail in the match.

It started off well enough, with us winning the first leg (a tourney match is the best of 3 games, aka “legs”). In the second leg I threw my ton-80, Espie was hitting big, and we were sitting on a 32 out (double 16). Troy and Jerlyn were still in the 200s at this point. Now, strategically a 32 is one of the most popular outs to strive for because you have some margin for error. If you throw a fat 16, your next out, a double 8, is right above it. Miss that, you’ve still got one dart left to throw at the double 4. Anyway, despite our numerical and strategic advantage my partner and I failed to throw the outshot on several consecutive throws thereby allowing our opponents to close the gap and eventually win the leg. In the third leg, Espie and I both went cold simultaneously which ultimately led to our defeat and banishment to the losers bracket.

Darts is a funny game sometimes. As we fought our way back through the losers bracket we faced off against opponents that seemed much stronger than Troy and Jerlyn and defeated them all rather handily. Meanwhile, Troy and Jerlyn continued to play well and made it to the finals undefeated. And that’s where we met them again in the championship round. Except we would have to beat them twice to win. And that’s exactly what we managed to do.

Well, I’ll be damned. When is the last time I devoted a whole post to darts? I guess it’s an indication of some of that old enthusiasm creeping back into my life. I spent the morning preparing the schedules and spreadsheets for the upcoming second half of the Barretto Singles League. I’m also going to have some custom shirts designed and made for the players. I’ve got my shirts for the previous iterations of the league in Columbia, SC, and Seoul. Yes, this singles league format is something I created from scratch and I admit I’m kind of proud of it in a daddy-like fashion.

And as if I didn’t feel guilty enough about blowing off my walking yesterday because of a little rain, Facebook reminded me of what I was enduring three years ago in Pyeongtaek.

No rain today though so no excuses.

So yeah, doing 12K in two bites is just about my speed. I was kinda bragging here the other day about doing that 12K Friday walk and then Kevin Kim posted about his 27K hike as if it were nothing. I bow before the master!

I’ll be back.

Yesterday I completed my final match in Round 1 of the inaugural season of the Barretto Singles League. For Round 2, I’ll be taking the top six finishers for one division and the bottom six for the other division and everyone will play the others in their division twice. That’s the real season, this first round was essentially just to let people play into the division where they belong so things are fair, balanced, and competitive.

That said, I will either finish first or second in Round 1 play–Cristy has one more match to play and could still catch me. Not that it matters, I’ll be in the top division regardless. Actually, Cristy is throwing great darts of late and I consider her to be the top player in the league skills-wise. I’m still not satisfied with my consistency but I’m maybe needing to lower my expectations a bit. I remember being better than I am now but then again, my memory ain’t what it used to be either.

So, here’s an example of what I’m talking about. Yesterday I played Nancy. She’s a solid player but struggles at times (don’t we all?). I expect she will also finish in the top six. This is how our match came down:

On Tuesday I played Jo, another very good player. She has really impressed me with the improvement in her game I’ve witnessed this season.

And enjoy the beers that I call aiming fluid!

After darts, I had my weekly fix of pork chops at Mangos and watched the sun go down on another day.

I was in bed at 7:30 last night, exhausted from all those beers I drank darts I threw. Up a little after 4:00 a.m. to start another day. Coffee and the internet, what a combination! I saw this and liked it:

And I posted these quotes from Martin Luther King to honor his birthday. A man who was clearly ahead of his time. The unity he devoted his life to achieving is exactly what is now being dismantled for reasons I honestly cannot fathom.

But here in my world called the Philippines, there are other questions to consider:

Well, I’m kidding of course. After all, age is just a number. All the girls tell me so.

As I enjoyed my breakfast at Harley’s, looking out over the bay, it occurred to me–I am one lucky son-of-a-bitch. Perhaps I am finally beginning to grasp the concept of living in the moment and enjoying life for what it is.

Alright, time to head out for the Friday dart tournament at Alley Cats. I’m going to try and enjoy my game for what it is at the moment too!

Update: Cristy just finished her last match and sent me the scoresheet. It appears we are going to finish Round 1 tied. That’s pretty awesome!

…and yesterday’s gone.

Luckily I have some photographs to document the interesting moments that took place. Such as they were.

I played darts in the Alley Cats tourney and drew a strong partner, Billy. We faced off against Cristy and Nancy in the first round. Now, Cristy is probably the best player in Barretto right now and Nancy is a good player, although she can be a tad inconsistent. They royally kicked our ass and sent us to the loser’s bracket. I figured maybe we’d meet them in the finals but a team with an average player with a weak partner beat them. Just goes to show you can never predict the outcome of a darts match. Sometimes your hot, sometimes it’s like you never played the game before.

Anyway, we did meet Cristy and Nancy again in the losers bracket and got our revenge. Then we beat the team that had beat them and made it into the finals. We had to beat Espie and Liza twice to take the championship and that’s just what we did.

My new blender is back from the shop and I came home after darts and gave it a try. Loaded it up with frozen strawberry, mango, ice cream, and milk and let it rip. Those razor blades sliced and diced the contents in almost no time. The damn thing still scares the hell out of me though.

I think I might have mentioned my downstairs neighbor got a videoke (karaoke) machine as a gift. As I feared, loud and off-key singing has been the evening’s treat ever since. Last night I had to sleep with music playing in my headphones to drown out the noise. Well, that’s not gonna fly. Videoke is part of the culture here and the locals play it loud and long. One of the benefits of living in Alta Vista is you tend to be above all that noise, or at least you only hear it from a distance. When I agreed that the caretakers of the property could continue living downstairs, it was just Tony and his wife. Tony is dead now but the wife has had family, including small children, staying over frequently. It’s only a one-room accommodation, not sure how they manage it. So I’m either going to have to be a prick and evict her or move when it is time to renew my lease next month. Or maybe if I ask nicely they’ll knock off the bad singing most nights. We’ll see.

Oh, and my head is still shaking about this one. Apparently, the neighbor’s husband told her that someone told him she was fucking ME for money. What the hell? First of all, I’ve never been physical with the neighbor’s wife at all. I’ve not even heard from her since the day I took her to church last week. But why would I pay to have sex with a 40-something married woman? When I want to pay for sex, I have a couple of 20-something hotties I can call. I’m actually pretty damned offended by the accusation, it seems like defamation at a minimum. Haven’t decided what if anything to do about it. Not even sure who made the allegation, it just got relayed to me third hand through my helper. I am glad I took my reader’s advice and maintained my innocence though. Might be another motivation to move, however.

Somebody’s day started much worse than mine did:

Via Facebook memories I enjoyed this photo of me and some of my former staff at our Christmas party four years ago:

A rather pleasant walk this morning with Scott and Dan. I’ll post about that tomorrow. Now it is time to prepare for another darts tournament. Speaking of darts, Facebook reminded me that eight years ago I wrote the lyrics to a song called “A Hard Darts Night” after a tough tourney loss. And yeah, I stole the tune from the Beatles, sue me!

It’s been a hard darts night
And I’ve been throwing like a punk
It’s been a hard darts night
But at least I’m getting drunk
Yet when I get to the line
I think I’ll get it right this time
But I still miss the out

You know I throw all day
To win some money to buy my drinks
And when you lose it in the final leg
Well the money, it kind of stinks
And so I get home and moan
‘Cause I’m to blame alone
You know I can’t hit an out

When I practice, everything seems to be fine
In the games, I don’t have a clue at the line, yeah, yeah, yeah

It’s been a hard darts night
And I’m really having trouble
It’s been a hard darts night
‘Cause I can’t hit the f’n double
But I’ll be back for some more
Because I’m just a darts whore
And that makes me feel alright

Yeah, I won’t quit my day job. Oh, wait…

Coincidentally, today marks the 40th anniversary of John Lennon’s murder. RIP.

The wins keep multiplying. Another first-place finish in last night’s Alley Cats tournament. This victory was all the more unlikely because I truly did play like shit, especially early on. We got knocked into the loser’s bracket in the first round and barely managed to avoid being first out of the tourney. Had some luck along the way and kept fighting and scratching our way into the championship finals. It came down to the last leg of a very tough match but we pulled it out of our ass somehow.

So that makes four tourney wins in a row. Will I take the fifth tonight? Not going to answer that on grounds that it may incriminate me.

In other news, the weather has finally cleared up. That allowed me to take a slightly longer and more interesting walk this morning. I’m sure y’all have been jonesing for some outdoorsy pictures, so here you go:

It does seem that there is a hierarchy amongst my pets:

And that’s all I’ve got for today.

UPDATE: Well, damn. I didn’t even check today’s post title because it didn’t occur to me that I might have used such a silly pun previously. Turns out I did–way back in September. Then my cute pun was about our hike: Us four going forth on the fourth. Hey, it was funny in my head. Oh well.

I was going to call this post “practice makes perfect” but I used that title last year. I know I recently said I was going to rededicate myself to darts practice and try to reclaim some of the skills I once had achieved back in my glory days. Such as they were. Alas, thus far I haven’t found the motivation to carve out an hour each day for this worthwhile activity. I mean, what am I suppose to do, give up my naptime? No way!

Since I like spending time in bars you’d think I could just spend some time in one of the venues with dartboards. I’ve considered that and still might try that option. One issue I have is that the Alley Cats tourneys are starting at 3:00 p.m. on Wednesday, Friday, and Saturday. That’s just a bit too early in the afternoon for me, especially on the days I do the group walks. I played yesterday though for the first time in two weeks.

If it is true that practice makes perfect then maybe it should also be said that sometimes “good enough” will suffice. It did in yesterday’s tournament at least as my partner and I achieved a first-place finish. I was pleased that despite my lack of practice I threw quite well overall and hit most of the out shots during the matches. We got knocked into the losers bracket in the first round but fought our way back to reach the finals where we defeated the team we first lost against twice to take home the money. That’s always especially satisfying.

After the tourney, I crossed the highway to take my reserved seat at Mango’s. Ordered up some chicken fingers to satisfy my hunger pangs. Then I had some eye candy for dessert:

I started today off with a hearty breakfast:

Speaking of striving for perfection, or at least showing improvement, I tried to incorporate the searing technique commenter Kevin Kim mentioned the last time I posted steak photos. So, I fired up the grill and let it run full blast for a few minutes before plopping on the steaks, then turning them over a minute of so later.

Nothing to do after a breakfast like that than to take a nice long walk. I did My Bitch from end-to-end today. Someone has blocked up the entrance from Alta Vista by cutting down trees to make the trail inaccessable which really pisses me off. I was able to work my way around the obstructions with some difficulty but a fence is also under construction. Going to have to explore a new access point.

So, it is not a perfect life I am living, but I reckon it’s good enough.

And mamas, don’t let you kids grow up to be reporters:

Until we meet again.

Last night at the dart tourney I drew Steve, the Englishman who doesn’t drink, as my partner. There was a collective groan as everyone expected us to win. Honestly, so did I. It’s aggravating though when people complain about the outcome of a blind draw; it’s inherently fair because it’s purely a matter of chance or luck or fate or whatever else you might want to call it. One guy was loudly calling for an end to the blind draw format and instead using a ranking or rating method so the best players would never be on the same team. The problem is how do you fairly rank players who randomly show up and participate in the tournament?

Anyway, the games are won or lost at the dartboard, not at the draw. And there were strong teams other than Steve and I. In the first round we went up against Christi and Espie. Christi is an outstanding player and Espie is solid and knows how to play the game. They wound up beating us, and they did it by throwing better darts than we did. I told Steve after that match that at least that should shut people up about how “unfair” it was that we had drawn up as partners. We fought back through the losers bracket and faced off against Christi and Espie once again in the finals. And once again they beat us. That loss was squarely on me as I had shots at the winning out in both legs and didn’t hit it. That’s just the way it goes sometimes. No shame in second place.

HaHa! I just noticed you can see Buddy’s head under my glass top table. Guess he was hoping for some scraps. Good boy!

I’ll offer up this for today’s installment of the “interesting” photos feature:

And that’s about all I’ve got for now. I did enjoy this take on that upstart Wuhan virus:

An interesting (for me) dart tourney last night at Alley Cats. A large turnout had the tiny bar packed. And with only two dartboards I figured I was in for a long night. In fact, I usually don’t bother playing when there are more than eight teams because there is too much time waiting around between matches. Twelve teams (24 players total) participated last night. Lots of later arrivals, otherwise I wouldn’t have signed up. Oh well.

So, I drew Vincent as my partner. I had played with him once before and we wound up winning the tournament. Could history repeat? I figured we’d be a strong team. Steve, the Englishman who doesn’t drink, had drawn a weaker partner. Would his superior dart skills be enough to carry her to victory? I knew Billy and Beth would be a force to be reckoned with as well. Only one way to find out: let the darts fly and land where they may.

The only thing consistent about my game last night was my inconsistency. And Vincent didn’t throw as well as I remembered him playing in the past. It made for a tough night, every leg we played was a battle. We’d each have a couple of piss poor throws, and then out of the blue one of us would throw for a big score. That kept us in the fight. Steve and his partner lost in the first round and were eliminated from the loser’s bracket shortly thereafter. Very unusual for him to not finish in the money. Just as surprising was Vincent and I made it all the way through the winner’s bracket undefeated. Then we faced off against Billy and Beth and after a back and forth struggle, finally prevailed.

Courtesy of Facebook, I was reminded that six years ago I was entertaining delusions of grandeur regarding my ability to play darts in the big time. I was a lot better in those days, primarily because I worked at it and also had some passion for the game. These days I pretty much just show up and let ’em fly. Anyway, back in 2014, I was playing a tournament in Augusta, GA and made it on television.

After a star-studded night, the sun came out this morning.

A bit later I ate a light breakfast at Sit-n-Bull:

Now I reckon I better get up off my lazy ass and see if I can’t walk off some of those calories.

First out that is. Which is dart lingo for last place. So, I went from first to worst in less than 24 hours. And that is just the luck of the draw.

In a doubles tournament, your partner is selected randomly. So you take what you get and make the best of it. As an experienced player, I certainly understand and accept that sometimes your partner will suck. Actually, when I draw an inexperienced or weaker player I’ll try to mentor them some if they are receptive to that. Otherwise, I shrug it off and just try and have fun. There is one exception to that: I despise having a drunk partner. I wrote about Pierre, a fucking drunk from Sweden, I drew as a partner last month. Yep, you guessed it. I drew him again last night. So drunk he could barely stand. One out of three of his throws didn’t even hit the board. Seriously, who signs up to play in a dart tournament in that condition? Oh well, he gives new meaning to the word loser. For example, this morning as I’m walking I pass by Johansson’s and Pierre is sitting at the bar, drunk. At 9:00 a.m. He probably never went home last night. Glad I’m not him!

At least my early night was not a total waste. I had this waiting for me at home:

Here’s today’s “interesting” photograph:

And in a Back to the Future moment, I found myself walking tomorrow’s Hash trail this morning:

What else is going on? Well, a case of the virus epidemic has struck closer to home.

The virus has made it’s way to my province of Zambales though. Still far enough away to not make me feel threatened, but still too close for comfort. I doubt with my diminished lungs I’d survive an infection. I’d keep my fingers crossed, but then I wouldn’t be able to finish this blog post.

I think I mentioned that I sponsored a hole for the VFW golf tournament fundraiser. Here it is:

This evening I’ll be attending some other VFW Beach Bash events. No darts tourney this yeat though. I’ll try and get some pics of the Miss Beach Bash beauty pageant for y’all.

One thing I like about my house is I’m walking distance to the bars. But coming home always seems to be a longer journey.

That’s all for now. Well, here’s one of my favorite music videos:

Another dart tournament last night and another victory. That’s my partner Espie pictured above. She’s recently returned from several months in Sweden where she was visiting her fiance, Pierre. I guess on those long winter nights they passed the time throwing darts because her game has improved exponentially since the last time I saw her play. She was en fuego last night, certainly better than I was.

It was funny, when I first arrived at the bar she said to me “I hope we can be partners.” I responded, but you have a fiance! She clarified that she meant darts partners. And as fate would have it, that’s how it turned out. And yes, we beat Steve, the Englishman who doesn’t drink, along the way. In fact, we never lost a leg, winning all our matches 2-0. It was a lot of fun.

Today’s “interesting” photo from my walk:

At first glance, I read it as “big ass frozen foods for sale”. Of course, what they mean is they have bigas (rice in Tagalog) and frozen foods for sale. I like my initial reading better.

Speaking of which, I’m not sure if I should be worried about the onset of old-timers disease or not. I re-read yesterday’s post this morning and noticed where instead of writing “feeling sorry for Lucky” I wrote “filling sorry”. Damn, how ignorant does that make me look? I mean, I make plenty of writing and grammatical errors out of pure ignorance. But trust me, I do know the difference between feeling and filling. Like after I read that post the feeling that I’m a crappy proofreader was filling my mind. Oh well, thanks for your indulgence dear readers.

No real updates on the Kung-fu virus here in the Philippines. A few more reported cases, but nothing in my neck of the woods. Although as an indication of just how powerful this plague truly is, I noticed this morning that it is actually changing the character of litter. I shit you not:

That’s all for now folks. The road is calling to me, so walk I must.

So I walk a lot. And when I’m not walking, I’m sitting. Usually on a barstool. But you knew that already, right? A goodly long walk yesterday afternoon and some darts last night. That filled the hours better than standing still ever could.

A third-place finish again in the tourney. Had Christi, one of the top players as a partner, so was feeling confident. Went head-to-head (or is it hand-to-hand?) with Steve, the Englishman who doesn’t drink, in the first round. Steve’s partner was all over the board but got his fair share of lucky hits. Christi and I were both off our games. Steve was playing at a whole other level. Really amazing actually, almost pro caliber. We still managed to take them three legs before being dispatched to the loser’s bracket. We wound up meeting Steve and his partner again in the semi-finals and finished with the same result. Anyway, there is no shame in losing to a superior player, just wish I had played a little better. That’s about all the caring I can muster.

Not much else to share today except some stuff I found amusing on Facebook:

Time to get movin’…

My luck held out on my afternoon hike yesterday:

Things can be a little dicey here sometimes. I took this photo before I crossed over the bridge, just in case. It turned out to be sturdier than it appears. Although it is probably lucky I no longer weigh 270 pounds. You can also see the littering issue I sometimes rail about. Folks will literally sweep the dirt in the yard surrounding their shack. And then think nothing of throwing trash into the creek behind their house. All I can do is shake my head and walk on.

I also had some good luck in darts last night. It was an annual tournament played in honor of the now-deceased former owner of Alley Cats. So there was a good turnout, the entry fee was doubled to P200, and the payout was higher. Oh, and they served some snacks. I even practiced for the second day in a row! I guess all that hard work paid off because I drew Steve, the Englishman who doesn’t drink, as my partner.

Okay, you could almost hear the groans. Steve is the best player around and my game, such as it is, it also pretty well respected. On some nights I might even be the second-best player in the tourney. So, in a lot of minds, it was a foregone conclusion that Steve and I were going to win even before the first dart was thrown. Except you’ve got to play to find out and there were some other solid teams standing between us and victory.

Here’s the thing, there’s a lot more pressure when you are expected to win. And as Steve noted, everyone in the bar was pulling against us. I get that, no one was rooting for Goliath either. Well, Steve threw his usual solid game and I was typically inconsistent with moments of brilliance, especially hitting the out shots better than usual. But Alan and Rica took us to the third leg in a hard-fought battle before we prevailed. We then met Christie and Jocelyn in the finals and they could have (should have) beat us. Christie was on fire and I’ve never seen Jo throw such strong games. In the end, we came out on top as expected, but it was no walk in the park.

Back in my previous life, I had started a singles dart league in Seoul and in Columbia. It proved to be quite popular. I’m thinking of doing the league here in Barretto but no longer have any of the files (rules, scoresheets, etc) I used. Emailed an old friend back in Korea and asked if he might still have them. His response: “You got lucky” and sent me a link to dropbox. Heh, let’s see if I’m lucky enough to figure out how to access files from dropbox.

In other news, I see that President Trump regrets his hasty decision to jump into the recent anti-vaping hysteria. Which got me thinking. I haven’t vaped since around Christmas time. I’m pretty much over what had been ailing me and there is really no reason not to resume my habit. Except I don’t think I will. In fact, I put all my vape gear away this morning and decided to move on to the next vice. Whatever that may prove to be. I never thought vaping hurt my lungs, but why push my luck?

I played darts for the first time in a couple of weeks last night. It’s truly odd that these long layoffs don’t seem to affect the overall quality of my game. Or maybe I’m just lucky. I was definitely lucky in the “luck of the draw” when I pulled Steve, the Englishman who doesn’t drink, as my partner on the night.

Anyway, we were both on it and didn’t lose a leg throughout the tournament. Unstoppable we were! These days I only play when the mood strikes me and I try to just keep it fun. Maybe that’s the secret to my success. That and an awesome partner.

Tonight I’ll be back to Alley Cats to participate in the Christmas celebration. I’ve got an envelope I’ll be gifting each of the girls. Ho-Ho-Ho!

Oh, and I made brownies.

Saturday night in the Barrio! Let’s roll!

If you think my grammar and punctuation are bad, you should have seen me doing math at darts last night.

I’m not the most accurate or consistent thrower, but I do pride myself on knowing my out shots. For you non-darters, the game of 501 requires that you finish with a double-out. So for example, if you have 32 left on the board, you would need a double 16 to win. But that’s the easy part. Setting yourself up to have an outshot requires some strategic thinking. Or at least the ability to do some simple subtraction.

So, last night my partner leaves me with a 91 out. The best way to throw a 91 out is to go triple 17 (51 points) and double 20 (40 points) for the win. Easier said than done of course. So I step up to the throw line brimming with confidence, aimed at that triple 17, and let my dart fly. Thunk. Single 3. So, with 89 left the preferred shot is triple 19, double 16. I threw a single 19, precluding any possible out with my remaining dart. Best you can do in that situation is to leave a good outshot for your partner’s next throw. I threw a single 18 leaving a 52.

Except the scorer said we had 51 remaining. I respectfully disagreed, having done the math in my head as I threw. She said “3 + 19 + 18 = 40. 40 from 91 leaves 51.” The scorer even illustrated her point by writing out what she was saying. How can that be? I mean, I couldn’t argue that the numbers didn’t equal 40, but I was quite certain that I was leaving my partner an even number. So I said, “91 – 3 = 89. 89 -19 =70. 70 – 18 = 52.” She looked at me like I was stupid or something. So, I started to explain my reasoning again, 91 – 3 = 89… She shook her head and said “no, it doesn’t. That leaves 88.” Oh shit. “Never mind,” I said and sheepishly walked away.

Walked the dogs, grilled some brats for breakfast, and baked up a batch of brownies to share on the drive down to Angeles. Busy morning.

Alrighty then, time to prepare for the Hash with my fellow Hashers in AC. More drivel to come, but at least from a new venue! Stay tuned!

A second place finish in darts last night. My partner and I lost in the first round but fought our way back through the loser’s bracket to make the finals. Yep, faced off against Steve, the Englishman who doesn’t drink, once again. We won the first match 2-0, and we went to the third leg of the championship match before succumbing to Steve’s superior darts. Still, I was happy that I threw well for most of the night. Perhaps I’ll be motivated to practice some more and take my game back to the level at which I once played. We’ll see.

It’s a weird thing though. I played better at the end of the night than I did at the beginning. The only difference I can think of is the several beers I consumed during the intervening period. It doesn’t really make sense, I mean, no one would argue that drinking enhances hand-eye coordination. I’m thinking it’s a mental thing–throwing more relaxed and not getting stressed about winning overmuch. Anyway, I just need to learn to keep my focus on the target and let the darts fly. And practice more.

No rain again today, so I did my morning walk up on the mountain.

Another long walk in the afternoon, still scouting a potential trail for the next time I Hare. Still lots to be done to put it all together.

Life is good.

UPDATE: Well, it seems I used “shows improvement” as the title to a post in February 2017. Back then, I was starting to feel better because the drugs prescribed for my chronic obstructive pulmonary disease were working. They still pretty much are, thank you very much!

A second place finish in darts last night. Not bad considering my partner Jerlyn is pretty much a rookie. Friday night had a similar outcome, except that after coming back through the loser’s bracket to play the team that put us there, we all agreed to just call it a tie, split the pot 50-50, and take our drunken asses home.

In other “news”…

I don’t have much else, but let me just dump some stuff I’ve found on Facebook and my wanderings around the internets…

Over in Thailand there was an unusual story of a foreigner fleecing a poor local. I mean, that’s pretty fucked up. The Thai local was a street food vendor. What’s worse than stealing from the poor? It’s almost always the other way around. I’ve been scammed a few times myself. You know, helping out a “friend” in need with a loan, never to be repaid. I mean, I get it. When you are living day-to-day and hand-to-mouth paying a debt to a “rich” foreigner is not going to be a priority. The shocking thing to me was that they didn’t even bother to give me an excuse, just broke off all contact. And these were people I had known for years. I’m obviously a horrible judge of character. So maybe I got lucky having dishonest people removed from my life. I’ll trust to Karma to extract a form of retribution on their lying asses as payment in full. Good riddance!

Three years ago I was putting on the last suit I ever expect to buy. Tailor-made of course!

Speaking of women, this was my gal three years ago (thanks for reminding me Facebook):

Also seen on FB today was this bulletin board posted in an American schoolhouse:

Speaking of language, I had never thought of this before:

I’ve always admired creative problem solving:

Although my breakfast this morning at Sit-n-Bull wasn’t exactly low carb either:

And finally, this is the second time I’ve used “sloppy seconds” as a post title. Back in April 2014 I also finished second in a darts tournament. And afterwards went out for a nice samgyeopsal dinner at my favorite place in Itaewon. With my wife, her daughter, and some friends. The next day we dined at Tabom Brazil with the esteemed Kevin Kim.

It never ceases to amaze me how everything in life can change. Not always in a good way, but we find a way to survive. Well, it feels more like dying and being reborn, if you get my meaning. Either way, it’s good to be alive! Let’s see what happens next.

Oh, this lunch break is gonna take all afternoon,
And half the night.
Tomorrow mornin’, I know there’ll be hell to pay,
Hey, but that’s all right.
I ain’t had a day off now in over a year.
My Jamaican vacation’s gonna start right here.
If the phone’s for me,
You can tell ’em I just sailed away.

And pour me somethin’ tall and strong,
Make it a “Hurricane” before I go insane.
It’s only half-past twelve but I don’t care.
It’s five o’clock somewhere.

I got a big smile from commenter Kevin Kim’s link to his review of the movie “Rush”; a film about the competition between racing greats James Hunt, an Englishman, and Niki Lauda from Austria. Kevin jokingly equated their epic battles to my struggles with my darts nemesis, Steve the Englishman who doesn’t drink.

Well, as fate would have it, I crossed swords darts with Steve again last night. This time it was in the 501 doubles tourney at Alley Cats bar. Steve is consistently better than me, but when I’m on my game I can hold my own with him. The wild card in doubles is who you draw as a partner, and last night my partner was a tad better than his. So in that sense it was a pretty equal match. Naturally we wound up facing off in the winners bracket, where me and Gerlie took a hard fought 2-1 victory. Steve and his partner came back through the loser’s bracket and we went at it again in the tourney finals. That match was about as close as it could be, but once again, Gerlie and I prevailed 2-1.

Or maybe we just got lucky. Speaking of Lucky:

I’m kidding of course. But Lucky has come a long way:

I’m not kidding about the dumb part. He truly is the stupidest dog I’ve ever owned. I love him anyway of course. But damn…

You better watch what you say
You better watch what you do to me
Don’t get carried away
Girl, if you can do better than me, go
Yeah, go, but remember

Good love is hard to find
Good love is hard to find
You got lucky, babe
You got lucky, babe, when I found you

You put a hand on my cheek
And then you turned your eyes away
If you don’t feel complete
If I don’t take you all of the way, then go
Yeah, go, but remember

Good love is hard to find
Good love is hard to find
You got lucky, babe
You got lucky, babe, when I found you

A rainy, nothing kind of day here in Barretto.

I’ve managed to squeeze out 15,000 steps, but I confined myself to the neighborhood. Talk about boring! Kind of like this post.

I played with my old dart league mates yesterday afternoon. The highlight (for me) was facing off against my nemesis, Steve the Englishman who doesn’t drink. We played singles Cricket, which was a first. In my opinion, Cricket requires more skill than the standard game of 501 that is usually played here. For one thing, only the specified numbers count (20-15 and the bullseye), so there is a minimum of “lucky” shots. There is also a strategy about what to throw when, and pointing. I actually wrote a pretty scholarly (for me) blog post on the subject.

Anyway, Steve is the superior player overall, but I started out on fire. And he really didn’t play a “smart” cricket game, chasing me on numbers I had closed instead of getting ahead on a number and throwing points. Even with all that in my favor it came down to who could hit the most bullseyes soonest. In the end I prevailed. Woot!

I put my new crockpot slow cooker to work again this morning:

They both turned out quite tasty if I do say so myself.

I was never a whiz at math, but I found this pretty damn funny:

I’ve been conscientiously working to avoid using repetitive titles on my blog posts. I know none of my readers remember such a mundane detail, but for some reason it matters to me. The “nada y nada” sounded familiar, so I did a quick search of the LTG archives and discovered I’ve used it twice previously.

In October 2014, I was alone in the states and missing my wife who kept promising to “join me soon”. Without her around to motivate me I was sinking into a pit of despair and loneliness, sometimes not leaving the house for days. Of course, I didn’t know at the time that she was never coming back to me.

In June 2009, I was living single in Seoul and was lamenting being between dart seasons. Big whoop. And oh yeah, the “pending change” I was alluding to in that post was nothing more than a redesign of the LTG masthead. Dealing with that kind of drama, I guess I didn’t know just how good I had it.

And here I am all these years later, still living a pretty solitary life. I’ve added walking to my darts and beer regimen, which of course is a good thing. I’m not complaining about my lot in this life. After all, I have a clean, well-lighted place to call home.

It is the light of course but it is necessary that the place be clean and pleasant. You do not want music. Certainly you do not want music. Nor can you stand before a bar with dignity although that is all that is provided for these hours. What did he fear? It was not fear or dread. It was a nothing that he knew too well. It was all a nothing and a man was nothing too.

Some lived in it and never felt it but he knew it all was nada y pues nada y nada y pues nada.

― Ernest Hemingway, A Clean Well Lighted Place