That’s her before she brought me into this world.I’m the cute boy on the left.She played a big role in my life as a father, especially after my first wife bailed and left me to raise the kids. I couldn’t have done it without Mom there to show me the way.She was a faithful wife to my father for over fifty years.And she was proud of the boys she raised.Mom and her sisters in the last photo I ever took of her.
Miss you and love you, mama.
Mother, don't worry. I killed the last snake that lived in the creek bed
Mother, don't worry. I've got some money I saved for the weekend
Mother, remember being so stern with that girl who was with me?
Mother, remember the blink of an eye when I breathed through your body?
So may the sunrise bring hope where it once was forgotten
Sons are like birds flying upwards over the mountain
Mother, I made it up from the bruise on the floor of this prison
Mother, I lost it all of the fear of the Lord I was given
Mother, forget me now that the creek drank the cradle you sang to
Mother, forgive me I sold your car for the shoes that I gave you
So may the sunrise bring hope where it once was forgotten
Sons can be birds taken broken up to the mountain
Mother, don't worry. I've got a coat and some friends on the corner
Mother, don't worry. She's got a garden we're planting together
Mother, remember the night that the dog had her pups in the pantry?
Blood on the floor and the fleas on their paws,
And you cried 'til the morning.
So may the sunrise bring hope where it once was forgotten
Sons are like birds flying always over the mountain
The thought isn’t original, but the image is–my very own Cinco de Mayo photographic illustration.
It’s more than a Mexican holiday or the traditional Korean Children’s Day.
It was 18 years ago that my first grandchild was bornHappy birthday to you, Gracyn!
And yes, I have struggled with the knowledge that my grandchild is the same age as Mary.
Six years ago, I was wandering around the streets of Seoul.
I’m not sure where this is now; maybe a back alley in Itaewon.
Five years ago, I was relaxing after my final climb up Younginsan in Asan, Korea.
I miss my Korea life; I wish I had appreciated it more while it lasted.Yep, nothing to do but focus on the life you have while you have it.
My focus last night was on feeding the Hideaway girls, and that seemed to go well.
Joy wanted pork chops, so I made a stop at Mangos to satisfy her craving.
I don’t recall how or why I started this twice-weekly feeding thing, but those meals cost me between thirty and forty bucks each. So, when Joy wanted those expensive chops, I was a little taken aback. I told her, okay, I’ll get you the pork chops, but I won’t be able to afford anything for the other girls. Is that okay? She gave the correct answer, telling me to never mind her, but feed the others. I rewarded her kindness with pork chops.
The fried chicken was almost gone before I had the camera out.And a pizza. With brownies and Orea cookies for dessert.Pork chop going down Joy’s hatch.
That was that. I made a brief stop at Cheap Charlies on the way home, then my nightcap at Green Room. No incidents to report from either venue.
A nice hike up on the ridgeline this morning that I’ll post about tomorrow. But the good news is no real issues with the knee, despite a lengthy climb and a steep down. I’d say I’m about 90% recovered (I still feel a slight weakness, but not enough to cause a limp like before). Here’s hoping it stays that way. I do intend to get the ultrasound Dr. Jo suggested. I’m also going to visit this new clinic and get some bloodwork and other testing done to check on how other parts of my body are doing these days (liver, I’m talking about you!).
Back in Korea, I used to do an annual physical examination that covered everything. But this sounds worth a try. It’s been over five years since my last one.
I don’t lose sleep over my grammar and spelling mistakes, but this made me laugh anyway:
Am I ignorant or apathetic? I don’t know, and I don’t care!
I’m leaning toward doing the SOB thing tonight at Whiskey Girl. Gotta fill those hours somehow. Back tomorrow with some nice pictures from my mountain trek.
A large gathering of friends at It Doesn’t Matter yesterday afternoon to say a final farewell to Bob. Well, we didn’t technically say goodbye to Bob; we just saluted his memory and drank in his honor. I was able to offer my condolences to Luna, Bob’s widow, and I gave her a white envelope to help ease any financial burdens associated with Bob’s death.
A temporary structure was erected in the street to accommodate the influx of visitors to the bar.I arrived early and was able to get a decent seat.
The bar was packed. At least three biker clubs were in attendance (Thunder, Misfits, and Bob’s group, Eight Demons). Luckily, they all get along! It was the hottest day in recent memory, and sitting outside was a tad uncomfortable. The beer was cold, though, so I didn’t get thirsty. IDM doesn’t usually sell food, but they had a grill going loaded with sausages.
Damn, those dogs were spicy but good.
I arrived a little before 1 p.m. and stayed for over two hours. There were no formal toasts or speeches given during that time, which I thought was a little unusual. I did get to have a nice visit with another expat who I’ve seen around town the entire time I’ve lived here but never chatted with previously. It turns out he spent some time in Korea with the military, so we exchanged stories about our time there. And we also had Filipina horror stories to share. A good guy; nice to meet you, Jim.
I left IDM and made my way up the highway to the Jewel Cafe to order some food for the Hideaway girls’ Sunday feeding.
PrawnsSisigAnd Tocino for JoyIn Joy
Yesterday was a good reminder of why I don’t drink early in the day; I had reached my limit before the time I usually begin drinking. That really threw me off-kilter. But I knew nothing good would come of forcing myself to overindulge, so I said my farewells and headed up the highway toward home. As I walked, I had an internal debate about what I would do if I went home so early in the day. Ultimately, I decided binge-watching Lucifer would fill those hours nicely enough.
But what about dessert? For some reason, the image of a banana split popped into my head (told you I was drunk), so I went to Sit-n-Bull and ordered one to go. It was delicious, and I made it through episode 7 of Season 2 Well, I did have an intermission…went to sleep at seven, woke at 9, and watched some more. I think I might even remember most of what I saw.
And now it is Hash Monday, and I’m hoping my knee doesn’t cause any problems. Only one way to find out.
What lies behind us and what lies before us are small matters compared to what lies within us.–Ralph Waldo Emerson
Sorry to see you go, Alan
Yesterday afternoon we raised a glass in a farewell toast to a respected member of the Barretto expat community, Alan Magowan. Alan passed away earlier this week in England, where he had recently returned for cancer treatment. His suffering is over now, and may he Rest in Peace.
I was somewhat better acquainted with his long-standing girlfriend, Christine, a bestie of my ex, Marissa. It was sad to see her in tears, but that’s the way of death, it seems–no more suffering for the deceased, but the pain lives on in those who loved him. I gave her a hug and told her that if she ever needed anything, to let me know. She has big changes ahead of her, but I know she has a good heart and a strong will; she’ll get through this.
The gathering was at Harley’s, a venue I enjoy but seldom visit.
While waiting for the event to commence, I spent some time on the back patio taking in the bay views. That’s the Kalaklan ridge in the background; it’s a bitch to climb, but worth the effort once you make it up top.Another water view. I envy the folks who live in that place on the water. The house ain’t much to look at, but I’d spend all my time on the back porch anyway.The pub is a popular hangout for Brits and Aussies who enjoy watching “football” and rugby on the big screen TVsAnd some of the best bar signage I’ve seen
When the ceremony for Alan was completed, I headed down Baloy Road to another venue I occasionally enjoy.
The Kokomos floating barA typical Saturday afternoon at the beachLots of boats and ships on the bay yesterdayAnd then this big-ass catamaran came cruising by and stopped near the floating bar.I’d say Roam is a good name for a sailboat. Lots of folks aboardhaving a good time.
And then, they were all transported to the floating bar in the sailboat’s dinghy. Took two trips.
And they brought their party atmosphere with them.Watching the sun go downI’d heard rumors about floaters in the bay water, and there they are!Time for me to head ashore and get some grubJohan’s is right next door to KokomosI gave their Mexican Taco a try. Too big to fit in my mouth, so I ate the innards with a fork and broke off parts of the shell to get the crunch. It was spicy and tasty, but I prefer a more traditional size.
After Johan’s, I caught a trike to Queen Victoria for my nightcap and spent a little time with Angie. It was a nice way to end my night out. I came home and watched the first episode of Season Two of Lucifer. When I tried to watch the second episode this morning, I realized that I didn’t remember much from episode one, so I had to rewatch that first. A good lesson to remember–don’t drink and watch TV–it’s a waste of time.
At one o’clock this afternoon, I’ll attend Bob’s wake at It Doesn’t Matter. Then I have the Hideaway feeding to take care of. I expect I won’t be watching any TV tonight.
And I’ll close with this Facebook memory from five years ago:
My farewell party in Seoul just prior to my move to the Philippines. Good times!
Sad tidings have come to our little town with the news of Bob Kuehl’s tragic death. Bob was the owner of the It Doesn’t Matter bar and an avid motorcycling enthusiast. It was the latter that ultimately led to his passing. Bob was a member of a biker club called the Eight Demons, and they were making a cross-country tour of the PI. Out on the distant island of Mindoro, Bob was attempting to pass a slower-moving vehicle on his big Harley-Davidson when he had a head-on collision with an oncoming car. Bob died in the hospital yesterday.
Bob was well-known and well-liked throughout the community. I understand he was 62 years of age when he died.He leaves behind his lovely wife, Luna. I don’t know if he has family back in the USA.
Bob’s untimely death is a stark reminder that you never know which day will be your last one on Earth. From all appearances, Bob lived his life to the fullest and did it his way on his terms. Riding that Harley was one of his passions, and perhaps some comfort can be found in knowing he was doing what he loved to do at the end of his life.
Rest in Peace, Bob. You will be missed by all whose lives you touched.
My friend and soulmate, Linda Ketner, succumbed to breast cancer on February 10, 2004. She was 52 years old when she passed away. Four years later, I told our story in this post. Reading that again may provide some context for what I’m writing now. I still think of her frequently and often wonder what she’d have to say about the way I’m currently living my life. I’m sure she would get a laugh out of it, but as was her nature, she’d also offer me support and encouragement. She was my best friend and guardian angel, and I’ll never stop missing her.
What prompted me to revisit the memories of this amazing woman after all these years? Well, it was that damn box with this envelope inside:
The postmark says Linda mailed it to me from Phoenix, AZ, on February 23, 1993. She called it her “care package.”
I’m sure I looked at the contents when I received it, but I haven’t looked inside again during this century. I just haven’t wanted to revisit the pain, I suppose. From what I recall, it contained the letters I had sent her over the years before email became a thing. I still have not looked to see what else I might find, but I reached in yesterday and pulled this out:
It is 30 pages long. She wrote it over the course of three weeks in October 1992
My plan is to excerpt parts of it here because as I reread it, I couldn’t help but feel like she was in the room talking to me. Her personality seems to shine through her words; at least, it did for me. And it also tells the tragic story of her life; cancer was only one of the battles she fought. Preserving the words she wrote to me here on my aptly titled blog is the closest I can come to bringing her back to this world she left behind. Perhaps no one will care about this project but me, and that’s okay. You never know, though. Maybe someone in her family will find her name on the internet and learn what an amazing woman she truly was.
Made it back to Barretto safe and sound. I let Justin use my printer to prepare some forms for Korean immigration. The nephews headed to their hotel to prepare for departure early this morning, and we agreed to meet up at Hideaway around 4 p.m. and then go next door to Arizona for the annual Beach Bash Beauty Paegent.
When they arrived, Josh bought some lady drinks, and then the group went outside to the smoking area to indulge in cigars. I had food for the Sunday feeding delivered from the Jewel Cafe (a chicken breast for Joy, quesadillas, and chicken wings for the others). I brought ChocoPies and Orea cookies for dessert. I did bake a batch of brownies but didn’t share them with the group. Last week a waitress named Anna told me that her daughter loves my brownies and always asks for them. Anna brings her portion home for her, and the daughter likes to take them to school for her friends to also enjoy. When Anna told me that, I thought to myself, damn, that’s stretching a couple of brownies a long way. So, I gave Anna the whole tray last night and said these are for your daughter. I was surprised when her daughter came to pick them up and thank me.
You are welcome! I hope you and your friends enjoy them!
I headed out to Arizona early to try and secure some decent seats, and the nephews followed later with a female entourage. This week I found myself shaking my head at Josh’s touristy “two-week millionaire” behavior. Still, in all fairness, he is on a vacation of sorts, and I probably engaged in similar behavior before I learned the facts of life here.
The beach where the Bash was held at the Arizona resort.The stage is set for the beauty pageant,and Daddy Dave serves as the MC.Bring out the girls! There were eleven contestants last night.Watch your back, Dave!This is the only contestant I recognized–she works at The Green Room. I’m not a fan of tattoos, but to ruin that perfectly fine ass with all that ink is a travesty.Not a good shot, but this was an impressive costume.I wouldn’t mind getting caught up in her net.I’m unsure who ultimately won; I left before the judging was completed. My favorite was #5 (counting from the right side).
Joy dropped by near the show’s end after she finished her shift at Hideaway. I’d hit my limit by this point and was ready to head home. I asked if she wanted to join me, and she accepted.
Does a smoothie count as dessert? I made a batch so Joy could have a taste, and she said it was good.
It was quite nice having a snuggle partner throughout the night. I made some banana-walnut muffins for breakfast–Joy’s favorite. I walked her down to the highway to catch a trike; then, I did a Baloy Beach walk to get in some steps before the Hash this afternoon.
Life’s a beachThe floating bar is now anchored offshore, and it appears to be fully equipped now. I expect it will be open by the weekend, if not beforehand.
In other news, my chats with Mary have continued, and she is still impressing the hell out of me with her sharp mind, wit, and humor. We confirmed another attempt at meeting in person for tomorrow.
I asked her if that was her niece. She did a “LOL” and said, “that’s me!”. I told her you look like you are fifteen. She laughed again and, a few minutes later, sent me a picture of her birth certificate confirming that she was of legal age. Turns out we only have a fifty-year age gap (she turns nineteen in November). That’s a stretch even for me.
We talked some about her future plans, and she wants to go to college if her finances allow it. It would be a shame to see her sharp mind go to waste. If she checks out after we’ve met, maybe I can help make the future she’s dreaming of happen. I’m too old to be her boyfriend, but I might enjoy being her Sugar Daddy. We’ll see.
Like your mother. Yesterday was the 12th anniversary of her passing. I cried last night when I told Joy about her.
For mom and dad’s 50th wedding anniversary, we enjoyed a visit to Catalina Island.In the younger days at home in MemphisNot sure where my baby brother Gregory is…Mom with her favorite son. (She never told me that, but how could it not be so?)In their golden years, enjoying the ambiance of a Cracker Barrel restaurant.
Anyway, the rest of this post will have to wait until tomorrow. Power has been out ALL DAMN DAY, and know the batteries is gone in my laptop and the mobile hotspot from my phone is too weak to upload any more photos.
She’s been gone eleven years now. You never forget a mother’s love though.
She loved being a grandmother and my kids loved her just as much.We celebrated the 50th anniversary of her marriage to my dad on Catalina Island off the coast of California.Breakfast at Cracker Barrel in the end years.With her favorite son on the Kern River back in 1958 or so…Camping and fishing were a big part of my life growing up…Me and my older brother chillin’ with the parents…Before she was my mom.Mom’s three sons.The last photograph I ever took of my mom. She was happy to have her two sisters join her for a final visit before she died.
Thank you for this life you gave me. You are gone but never forgotten. I love you.
The expat community here consists primarily of retired folk. Not surprisingly, that means most of us are well into our “golden” years. I’d estimate that at 65, I’m the median age amongst my peers. And with an older population, we are frequently reminded of the inevitability of death. I’ve heard of two foreigners that I didn’t know personally dying here this week. All we can do is keep on living as best as we are able until time runs out. That’s my plan anyway.
It appears that is exactly what Derek did. I met Derek (Derelick) through the Hash, and he was also well known in the bar community. We spent an enjoyable couple of hours drinking and chatting on the Kokomo’s floating bar earlier this year. Regular readers may recall that since the pandemic we have frequently used his palatial house on Rizal Extension as our Hash On-Home. In fact, we were just there three weeks ago. That turns out to have been the last time I saw Derek alive. HIs domestic helper posted this morning that Derek had a heart attack and died last night.
I don’t know the specifics of Derek’s story, but he always impressed me as a man who lived life on his own terms. He was a medical professional and spent most of his career working overseas. I understand he spent a lot of time in Thailand and I believe his last job before retiring a couple of years ago was in Dubai. His health has not been so good for several months, but he seemed resilient and was back to the life he loved between bouts of whatever it was that ailed him. I remember seeing his posts on Facebook this past Saturday about his barhop adventure, and another friend said they were together drinking and chatting on Sunday night. Well, Derek, you lived your life with gusto right up to the end. We should all be so lucky!
Rest in Peace…no, the hell with that–party hardy at that big ON-ON in the sky!
We had our usual Hash yesterday and Leech My Nuggets was the Hare. He laid down this challenge on the Subic Hash Facebook page:
Leech my Pussy and I are the hares; sign up at VFW from 2.00 PM; trail marked from VFW, starts 2.30 PM …… short (5.5 KM) and sweet, so surely the Sick, Lame & Insane can do it without to many short-cuts
That last reference was aimed at our “sane” group of Hashers. Call us what you will (and the “sick, lame, and insane” name is in jest, just Hash talk) but we far outnumber the hardcore group. Still, 5.5 is a short trail, especially for Leech. I started out with every intention of completing the entire path as he intended It may have been short, but it wasn’t easy. Two decent climbs on the first half left me gasping and thirsty. It was then that I discovered I had somehow forgotten to pack water. Prudence dictated that I forgo the final (and hardest) climb. But I really, really wanted to do it. Promise!
The trail sans shortcuts...The sane group with our traditional early 2:00 start is underway.The beginning of the first up…The normally clear skies (when it is not raining I mean) have been absent for the past few days. I assumed it was just a hazy moisture effect. But I heard it is some residual dust from a volcano down south that might be waking up again.What goes up, must come down…We weren’t down for long though…A picture stop before the next climb…Up the dreaded tire climb…And then the tires turn to bags…And still, we climb…Scrambling up and over rocksSummit achieved!Splendor in the grass.Back down again.Watch your step!A couple of bridges to cross.Sorry, kids. I shortcut the trail and couldn’t bring you your cookies this time. I’ll be back!And that’s as far as this post is going.
And life goes on. For some of us at least. We will all miss you, Derek.
Well, there is no escaping the travesty that is currently unfolding in Afghanistan. I don’t engage much in politics on the blog these days, but this fuck up is really hard to ignore. Kevin Kim’s post pretty much captures the way I see things and I encourage you to give it a read.
Like Kevin, I believe if you are going to go to war, you should go with the intention of winning. Nearly twenty years after engaging the Taliban, victory was still not at hand. So, withdrawing in a planned, methodical way was perhaps the best option. That was Trump’s goal, so you can’t blame Biden for the pullout itself, but the abruptness of the pullout and the carnage taking place are all on him. Maybe maintaining a military presence there, much like we’ve done in Korea for all these years, would have provided more stability. I do understand that we don’t have the resources to police the world, and at some point, the Afghan military needed to up their game. Our abrupt pullout, including all air support, made defending against the Taliban incursions next to impossible.
Politics aside, it is the suffering that awaits non-Taliban Afghanis, and especially women, that concerns me the most. My daughter Hillary spent nearly two years in Afghanistan as a soldier. She worked in a civil affairs unit and had many interactions with the people. It is fair to say I think that this experience opened her eyes to many harsh realities, but also changed her life in a positive way.
Hillary at an Afghan orphanage.
I wrote a post to honor her on Christmas day 2004. In that post, I quoted from an email she sent, and I think it bears sharing again now:
This place is dusty, hot or cold, and halfway around the world from my loved ones. I believe in what I am doing here and if I didn’t I would not be here. There are some serious disadvantages to traveling around the world conducting peacekeeping missions, but at the end of every day I recap what I have done for Afghanistan and for the people I have met here, and in the end, it is extremely rewarding.
The people of this country have the most unique characteristics of any ethnic group I have ever met. They are the warmest, most generous people with high morals. One thing all of the Afghans have in common is that they are very courageous and strong people. Throughout their history, they have fought the rule of the Persians, the Mongols, the British, and the Soviets. Never yet have they sold their soul to another. Afghans remain free.
Even though we have not found Osama Bin Laden, and my fellow soldiers are still being wounded and worse in Afghanistan, at least we have given these people a chance. When I look over the compound walls and see a kite flying in the sky, I know that represents one happy child who otherwise would not know that feeling.
This is the beginning for them, it is not perfect, nor is it expected to be, but it is a progressive change in the right direction. I realize the news back home is filled with all the horrible things taking place here and in Iraq, but this is one story Americans don’t get to hear often–we are making a difference! Afghanistan is a better, safer place than it was. You have the combining of coalition forces and NGOs to thank for all their hard work. Together we are working towards the same goal and that is to liberate Afghanistan by providing the resources to sustain them economically and politically. As the Afghans would say, “Inshallah”. If God wills it.”
It’s a shame that what was accomplished during our presence will be for naught. That doesn’t diminish the efforts of those brave individuals who worked hard, suffered, and sometimes died, to make a positive difference.
One of the things Hillary was most proud of included rebuilding schools that girls could once again attend.
Things are going to get much, much worse before they get better in Afghanistan.
Here’s wishing all you dad’s out there a day as good as you are. I hope that’s not bad!
My father’s father, 1935, Memphis, Tennessee.My father, 1960, Garden Grove, California.My father’s son, 1980, Prescott, Arizona.This father’s son, 1985, Poteau, OklahomaFathers and sons, 2003, Bahamas
And the wheel in the sky keeps on turning.
I treated myself to a father’s day lunch at Sit-n-Bull:
Shaved ham on a bun w/bbq sauce, coleslaw, and baked beans. As good as it looks!
After I finished eating, I sat with the owner, Ron, and had a nice long chat. Real interesting guy and probably the best conversation I’ve had in years. I really enjoyed that.
Got a surprise from my “friend with benefits” as well. Joy asked if I’d meet her at the 7/11 in Barretto so she could give me something. I agreed and she arrived by Jeepney, handed me her father’s day gift, thanked me for being her best friend, got back on a Jeepney going in the opposite direction, and went home.
She really is a sweet and thoughtful woman. I don’t think she is pretending.
I spent some time at the beach yesterday; perched as usual on my stool at Mango’s enjoying the view.
Quite a large crowd on the sand and in the water. I was the only non-Filipino around. I’m going to have to get used to this new normal I suppose.I watched the sky do its magic as the sun went down.And this is one of my favorite photographs ever. I was trying to take it with my phone camera in horizontal mode, but for some reason, it wouldn’t take. So, I turned my phone around and snapped it vertically. Meanwhile, a couple had walked into my frame and I thought might have messed things up. Instead, them walking hand-in-hand with the colorful backdrop really enhances the image.
What else? Well, I took one of those “political compass” tests to see where it said I stood. This one was a little different than the ones I’ve done in the past, the questions were much less cut and dried, apparently intended to help measure the “authoritarian/libertarian” spectrum along with the more tradition “left/right” positioning.
That seems pretty accurate. Give it a try if you are so inclined.
I’m sad to report that my friend and fellow blogger, Kevin Kim, has suffered a stroke. The good news is that it does not appear to have been a major stroke; at least Kevin is still mobile and functioning well enough to provide a brief update on his blog He’s going to remain in the hospital for a few days for testing and treatment. Here’s to hoping he makes a fast and full recovery.
Now, Kevin is a big guy but he doesn’t smoke or drink and he can and does outwalk me on a regular basis. That makes it all the scarier knowing something like this could happen to any of us at any time. Frankly, a major debilitating stroke like the one Graham of Cheap Charlies suffered is my health nightmare. There are some things that I consider worse than death, a paralyzing stroke would be one of them. Hearing about Kevin has me reassessing if I’m living a relatively healthy lifestyle.
To begin, I am healthier than I once was. I used to be 70 pounds heavier. I smoked for 20+ years, but haven’t lit a cigarette for over seven years now. I do still vape, but that got me off the cigs, and from everything I have read, there is no comparison between inhaling water vapor versus smoke. All those cigarettes did damage my lungs permanently in the form of chronic obstructive pulmonary disease (COPD). I take daily medications and use inhalers to minimize symptoms and it does not appear that my condition has worsened since first being diagnosed in 2017.
I also take daily pills for blood pressure, enlarged prostate, and cholesterol. I monitor my vitals every morning (temp/BP/heart rate) and they are almost always in the normal range. So, for an old fart, I’m doing reasonably well I suppose. I’m keeping my weight around 200 pounds and I walk a couple of hours every day, except Tuesday. I eat reasonably well but don’t deny myself the foods I crave either.
So, that leaves the elephant in the room–my beer drinking. Yes, I do indulge on the days of the week that end in “y”. I don’t really count, but I’m guessing I average around six bottles of beer a night. All the experts say that is too much. Can my poor liver take the abuse? I guess we will find out. Now, in my defense, I do drink low alcohol, low carbohydrate beer. So, my six bottles probably only amount to three of those strong “real beers” some people drink. That’s my story anyway. And really, when I read about the symptoms associated with overindulgence, I’m not seeing it. I mean, I might catch a buzz but I rarely get drunk or suffer hangovers and the like. If anything, I’d say the beer may be contributing to what sometimes feels like early-onset dementia. Nothing major (yet), just things like more frequent typos, forgetfulness, and a reduced attention span. Then again, I don’t aspire to be president and I ain’t nearly as bad as the guy who currently has that job.
Bottom line is you never know when your time will come. I’d really like ten to fifteen more relatively healthy years amongst the living. But I definitely have today and Saturday ends in a “y”, so I reckon I’ll raise a glass to my health tonight.
Sixteen years ago my granddaughter, Gracyn, came into the world looking like this:
Ain’t she sweet? I was living in Korea at the time, and I thought it was pretty cool that my first grandchild was born on the Korean holiday called Children’s Day.
And here is how she has grown up:
It’s amazing how much she looks like her mother. She is also quite the athlete, excelling at track and volleyball.
Math was never my strong suit, but I’ve been struggling to understand how a 30-year-old man such as myself can be the grandfather of a 16-year-old. It must be some kind of miracle!
She seems to like the gift I sent her. Imagine that. Happy Birthday!
What a day this is–the birthday, Children’s Day, and for those of Mexican heritage:
Happy Cinco de Mayo!
Meanwhile, here in my world, yesterday was my “lazy” day. No real walking to speak of, just taking care of chores like grocery shopping. I’ve been very frustrated with the constant “out of stock” refrain at Royal lately. So, I had my driver take me to the SM grocery store in Olongapo City. It was a wasted trip, though, because upon arrival just before nine I discovered the store doesn’t open until 10:00. Back to Royal we went, where disappointment is never out of stock. Anyway, if that’s my biggest bitch, life must be very good, indeed!
After my shopping excursion, I came home hungry.
Browned some ground beef and added seasoning.Warmed up a tortilla and prepared the innards–lettuce, tomato, green onion, cheese, and salsa.And a burrito was born! Had one for breakfast this morning too in honor of Cinco de Mayo.
I finished third in last night’s dart tourney, which was actually quite miraculous. After the draw, but before the first dart was thrown, my partner came over and apologized. She said she hadn’t thrown darts for a long time and that she wasn’t very good to begin with. I gave her my standard response of “let’s just have fun.” Turns out, she wasn’t exaggerating–her darts were all over the board. Still, with my “I don’t give a shit, let’s get this over with” attitude kicking in, I played well enough to lead us to victory over Cristy and her partner in the first round. I was as surprised as everyone. We weren’t near good enough to beat the eventual champions, however. Hey, we finished in the money, had some fun, and drank some beers. I’d call that a good night.
It doesn’t seem appropriate somehow to measure your good fortune in comparison to the misfortune of someone else. And yet, we’ve all heard that “there, but for the grace of God, go I” saw, or found ourselves saying things like “lucky that’s not me”. Still, I can’t help but appreciate my mundane and mostly no drama life all the more after hearing about a friend’s ongoing nightmare. Get well soon, Dennis!
Third place finish in darts last night. No complaints about that (other than the continued fall outs). The two teams that beat us threw exceptional darts and that’s what it is all about. No shame in losing to superior shooting.
My new Wednesday tradition is popping into The Pub after darts and getting me some Korean-style wings for take-out. Had a nice chat with the owner, John Kim, and after perusing his menu that includes a French dip and a Philly cheesesteak sandwich, I half kiddingly suggested that he add a Monte Cristo sandwich to the selections. It’s actually one of my all-time favorite sandwiches but it has been literally years since I’ve seen one on a menu. The old Dragon Hill Lodge on the Yongsan Army base had them prior to my first retirement in 2010, but I’ve not found one anywhere since.
Here’s what a Monte Cristo looks like in case you are wondering…
Anyway, I was surprised when John responded to my request that he was “working on it”. Apparently, finding the right kind of ham cut for the sandwich isn’t easy here in the Philippines. Who knew? But it sounds like I will one day soon relive those glory days of melt in your mouth goodness. Come to think of it, my first time experiencing the taste explosion of a Monte Cristo was at a restaurant in Fort Smith, Arkansas. I recall the location was in the old train station downtown and the Monte Cristo was the house specialty. It’s funny what you can remember about the mundane details of a lifetime while forgetting some of the big stuff. I guess it’s about Biden your time. *Ahem*.
That’s the chicken wings I brought home last night. Also found some kimchi in stock at Royal supermarket this week, so I had myself a Korean-style feast!
This morning I set out to do my “long” Thursday solo walk. I usually strive for at least 10K but came up a little short this time.
I maintained a pretty good pace over mostly flat ground at least…
Kevin Kim has a post up covering the latest COVID news. His commentary, though. is astounding. As I mentioned in the comments, it is precisely the way I feel about the whole COVID fiasco. I’m going to paste that part here for those of you who might not be motivated to click though. Think of it like this–Kevin’s words, my voice. Is that plagiarism?
The narrative is that masks, social distancing, and all the other trappings of security theater are actually effective at slowing the spread of the virus. The reality is that the virus is going to run its course no matter what we do, and if anything, our vain precautions tend to make matters worse. The essential self-delusion is the same as it’s always been: man can somehow master nature. The harsh truth is that man can only wait for the tidal wave to strike; rebuilding is for the aftermath.
You might reply that fatalism is the wrong attitude to adopt: people have made enormous progress in terms of personal hygiene, public sanitation, and infection control over the centuries; raging diseases can be fought and managed. All true. But look around you: does any of that “progress” amount to mastery of one’s surroundings? No. So hunker down, keep practicing—at the basic level—that commonsense hygiene, sanitation, and IC that you’re so proud of, and don’t worry overmuch: if the destroying angel comes for you because of age, comorbidities, or other weaknesses, then… it’s just your time to go. So be stoic and accept your destiny. That’s about the best you can do. Meanwhile, go live a life unruled by fear.
Kevin’s piece was especially timely for me because my sick friend in Cambodia is hospitalized with COVID. I don’t hear from Dennis very often these days, but I often wonder how he is getting on. He’s a few years older than me and has always been a solitary nomad, travelling the world (Asia, Europe, South America) and exploring on his own. I admire that, but I couldn’t live that lifestyle. I need a home base and the feeling of stability that provides. Anyway, my nightmare would be just what he is experiencing now–stuck in a hospital for going on three weeks now with no outside support. Worse yet, only one of the doctors speaks English and he says he can barely understand her through the masks and shields worn in his presence. He doesn’t have a phone charger and had to “borrow” a charger for his iPad, which is how he was able to shoot me an email. And oh yeah, he’s in diapers.
The good news is that he is feeling better and hopes to get an all-clear test result soon so he can get released from quarantine. Speaking of which, I hadn’t been following the news in Phnom Penh very closely but last time I heard from Dennis the city was open for the most part. Not anymore. Apparently, five female tourists came in from, you guessed it, China, and instead of abiding by the mandatory hotel quarantine procedures, they bribed the security guard and went out partying. Dennis is just one of the 1000 cases that resulted from their inappropriate conduct. Makes you wonder if China is doing this shit on purpose.
Anyway, I’ve got a dart match to throw this afternoon. Thanks for coming by. Oh yeah, don’t expect to be fiddling around in Georgia anytime soon:
So, I ventured out to Baloy Beach yesterday to help one of my buddies celebrate his birthday. Steve is an Aussie and knows how to party! He filled his house with thirty or so other like-minded souls, and the celebration was on! Lots of beer and good food made for an enjoyable afternoon.
Food on the grill……and food on the table!
What I didn’t know was that Steve’s wife, Viola, is celebrating her birthday today. So, it was a dual-purpose party.
The happy couple!Ain’t they sweet?
I’ve only known Steve and Viola for year or so. But from all outward appearances, he’s living large and living right. He clearly loves his gal and she reciprocates. A lucky man! Oh, and in case you are wondering, Steve turned 69 yesterday. Viola is 28 today. But as the saying goes here, “age is just a number”.
How’s that for a birthday cake recognizing 69 trips around the sun?
I’d visited Steve’s place once before for his house-warming party. I observed then that he lives right across the street from my first-ever residence in the Philippines, a crappy one-bedroom apartment. Well, oddly enough, Viola mentioned that a house right up the street may be coming up for rent soon. From a distance, it looked like it might meet my requirements; a single-family house with a fenced yard, and plenty of room. If the price is truly what Viola said she heard (less than 30,000 pesos) I’d have to seriously consider making the move back to Baloy. There are downsides to Baloy, lacking ease of access is the one that drove me away the first time, but if I lived in Baloy I’d probably stay put most of the time. Lots of beach bars and other places to hang out and/or dine. I’d miss the views and comfort level I have in Alta Vista, but if my landlady plans to fuck me (and not in the good way) over rent, I’m outta here. Time will tell, I suppose. My lease is paid through June.
And there you have today’s installment in the tale of my so-called life.
Today marks the tenth anniversary of my mother’s passing. No great insights to share–everything changes, yet life goes on for those of us left behind. Perhaps being remembered is enough. My love for you will live on as long as I do.
Bonnie Rose before she was known as mom.With her second-born son. The special one!I made her a grandmother for the first time.She loved my dad for over 50 years.A mom and her sons.Mom with her sisters for the final time. The last picture I ever took of her.
You will always be missed by those who loved you.
Meanwhile, in the world of the living, I changed things up some and drank my beers at Palm Tree yesterday.
It’s right next door to Mangos. I actually stayed here on my last trip to the Philippines as a tourist.The bar is on the second floor with a nice balcony overlooking the beach.
This morning I decided to make supper for breakfast.
The ribeye, while thin, was so tender I could almost pull it apart with my fork. I think I’ve mastered the searing process too as the meat was juicy and medium-rare on the inside.
I guess I’m in a beachy kind of mood as I decided to take a morning stroll to Baloy.
Well, in the event of a tsunami I’m already ideally located in the evacuation area–Alta Vista. Ain’t nowhere to run from an earthquake though.Once you get past the resorts, Baloy Beach Road is almost serene.Some nice bay views this morning…With the weekend crowds gone the beach felt almost deserted.
We’ve got the Hash this afternoon. The new starting time is officially 2:30, but I and a few others are going to head out an hour earlier. That should get us back On-Home before all the beer is gone. I’ll let y’all know how that goes tomorrow.
Now, should I take a nap or exercise? Hmm, perhaps I’ll do both!
Just received some sad news from Korea. A dear old friend, Sohee, took her life this morning.
A smile that could light up a room. Who knew the pain it was hiding?
I’ve always said that suicide is the ultimate in selfishness. The pain doesn’t go away, it is simply transferred to those you leave behind. I’m so sorry that you found yourself alone in that dark place and couldn’t find your way back out. You were loved by many and will be missed.
Damn, girl. I just wish you could have felt the love we all had for you.
Kevin Kim has successfully completed his 633-kilometer trek from Incheon to Busan. It was far from a walk in the park, notwithstanding the natural beauty of Korea surrounding him. He had to overcome massive pain in his feet that started early in the hike and rarely subsided, even with massive doses of pain relief meds. Kevin persevered through a strong sense of willpower and dedication to accomplishing his long-planned for objective.
Well done! It was great to follow along with you in a “better him than me” kind of way. Looking forward to your after-action report and recounting of the lessons learned during 29 days on the road.
A commenter asked about the process of nephew Justin acquiring his Hash name. Here’s how it went down:
First, the unnamed is called into the circle and told to take a seat on the ice.
That would be him.
As Justin’s sponsor, I gave a brief introduction. Born in Oklahoma, raised in Nebraska, college in D.C., then following me to Korea some ten-odd years ago. Oh, I also shared the fact that all of Justin’s relationships with Korean women over the years have been unsuccessful. So, he tried dating a Filipina in Korea, and yep, that failed too. Finally, I recounted how we were at a bar the other night and I introduced our waitress to “my lonely nephew”. She responded “I’m a lesbian.”
The first stage of the naming is to go around the circle and have Hasher’s ask Justin questions. After considering the answers, we go around the circle and Hasher’s suggest potential names. Mine was “Girls don’t like me”.
Once the suggested names are gathered, we do a voice vote and pare the list of possibilities down to the top three. Then we voice vote again. In the end, the consensus of the Subic Bay Hash Houe Harriers was that henceforth Justin will be known by the Hash name of “My Girlfriend’s A Lesbian”.
I’ve been having some fun with that these past couple of days. Like in a bar with strangers around I’ll quietly ask “what’s your Hash name again?.” I love the reactions on the faces when his response is overheard.
