Today is the anniversary of my retirement and also my arrival in the Philippines.

Got on a plane that same day and started my new life here in the PI. Hopefully y’all have been following along with my “adventures” here at LTG.

Like anything else I suppose, you fall into your routines and rituals in retirement life. Finding ways to pass the hours, not necessarily in a meaningful way, but hopefully in a satisfying way. Reading the blog you might have concluded that pretty much all I do is walk and drink beer. Come to think of it, that is pretty much all I do.

I’m not complaining. Life isn’t perfect here but it’s comfortable at least. Probably my biggest disappointment has been not finding love, which I thought would be relatively easy once I made the move. In large part I know that failure is on me. As more than one reader has pointed out, I’ve been looking for love in all the wrong places. I think in a fucked up kind of way I’m purposely setting myself up for failure. I’m honestly not wanting to put myself out there in such a way that I can be hurt again. Maybe that makes me a coward. Or maybe that makes me smart. Either way, for now I’m probably going to continue playing it safe.

I’ve also had a learning curve when it comes to friendships, at least with Filipinas. Eva proved to be a tremendous disappointment, “ghosting” me for reasons I still don’t understand. Gem simply took the money and ran. Who says you can’t put a price tag on friendship? So my track record at being a good judge of character remains pretty close to 0%. Ah well, live and learn. I don’t make friends easily anyway. I’d say I’ve established some friendly acquaintances amongst the expat community here, and maybe that’s enough.

On a more positive note, I do feel I’ve made good progress on my “making a difference” goal. I have my charity work, primarily with the orphanage. And four Filipinos on my payroll. And then there’s these two guys:

So yeah, on balance I’m happy with the move. It’s a long way from my USA home and family but that life just doesn’t work for me anymore. There are certainly frustrating aspects to living in the Philippines, but on the plus side I’m learning to be patient (deep breath, relax, accept the Filipino way). And even on the worst of days, this is the view from my living room window:

Let’s see what year two holds in store, shall we?

This is the day of the expanding man
That shape is my shade
There where I used to stand
It seems like only yesterday
I gazed through the glass
At ramblers, wild gamblers
That’s all in the past

You call me a fool
You say it’s a crazy scheme
This one’s for real
I already bought the dream
So useless to ask me why
Throw a kiss and say goodbye
I’ll make it this time
I’m ready to cross that fine line

UPDATE: Well damn, I used the “one year in” title for a post in January 2006. In that case I was talking about completing my first year in Korea. It was kind of interesting (to me) comparing my perspectives from then and now. What a ride it has truly been!

“We’re the only club event in the world where someone was rushed to the hospital because they forgot to take their drugs.”

So, I saw this article about old folks in the UK getting together on a weekly basis to get down and get wild and it gave me a chuckle. Elderly folks need to party too, don’t ya know?

The other day I had been sitting at Cheap Charlies and musing on life as I sipped beers and watched the world pass by below me. At least the portion of the world within my field of vision. Which is of course the world in which I reside. Anyway, it occurred to me that Barrio Barretto is really just a down and dirty retirement community for oldsters who just aren’t ready to settle down to a quiet and staid lifestyle. And man oh man, I see some expats here who are barely ambulatory but are still out there plying the streets with the help of walkers and canes. Got to respect them for that!

Ha! I’m reporting on this phenomenon as an observer, but of course I’m also a participant. Pretty much everyone who lives here full time is a pensioner of one type or another. The exceptions might be a business owner (most of the bars are foreign owned) and some people work via the Internet. And I’ve met a couple of folks who are just outright wealthy and could live anywhere in the world. It’s telling (about them or here I’m not sure) that they’ve chosen this little corner of the third world to call home.

Anyway, I know people as old as their late seventies. A couple of military retirees in the mid-forties is the other extreme. So, I guess that puts me somewhere in the middle. I’m still relatively healthy and active, which is more than I can say for many of my peers. The fact of the matter is that when I look around me I honestly don’t see anyone I’d want to trade places with. I’m not sure if that’s a good or a bad thing, but it is what it is.

So then, why are we all here? I think it’s because, like the Brits in the artilce linked above, none of us are quite ready to settle down. I remember seeing the retirement communities developed for oldsters in places like Sun Valley, Arizona. And even back then I couldn’t fathom the attraction of living such a boring and vanilla lifestyle. Here we have a vibrant nightlife scene, ranging from prostitution bars to more traditional activities like pool and dart leagues. There are also daytime activities like the Hash and golfing clubs. Or long walks on the beach. And perhaps the biggest attraction is having the freedom to come and go and do as we please without being judged or considered “too old”. The girls here have a saying “age is just a number”, and judging by the couples I see out and about they must be sincere. I have one friend who is 66 and his live-in girlfriend is 22.

So yeah, I think the women here are part of the attraction. Guys like me ain’t gonna find any smokin’ hot babes half (or less) our age back in the homeland. And Filipinas are not your standard Western feminazis either, their natural instinct is take care of their man. Geez, I need to get out there and find me one of those! Seriously though, you can find a genuine caregiver for a fraction of what it would cost back home. And sometimes us old folks need that tender loving care. I sure do wish the one I had trained up hadn’t run away.

While far from perfect, life is good here for us old farts. And I do admire these ancient fuckers who are still in the game and not ready to sacrifice an active and engaged lifestyle for the proverbial rocking chair on the front porch. I think most of us who have chosen to live here know that we will likely die here. And we intend to do it with a smile on our face.

Over at Big Hominid’s Hairy Chasms, Kevin Kim shared his recipe for what he dubs a “dildo omelet”. Now, I usually just scramble my eggs because properly preparing an omelet is just too much of a pain in the ass. But Kev’s method of cooking one up was so fascinating I had to give it a try. You can follow his step-by-step preparation instructions at the link above, but here’s how I did mine in pictures:

I had never heard of preparing eggs in this manner. One of my Facebook commenters says they did eggs like this in Girl Scouts. Who knew? I’ll definitely be using this method in the future.

After breakfast I took a morning stroll:

Life is good.

Yesterday’s Hash was challenging. Given that the German (Almoranus) and his Austrian pal (Vienna Sausage) were the Hares, that’s not surprising. Of course we did the big mountain, but the up route, while steep, wasn’t vertical like they normally prefer. No, it was Mother Nature who set about mucking things up.

The afternoon was cloudy with some light sprinkles. I was fine with that because it cooled things down a tad.

Even so, the climb up the mountain was a hot and sweaty one. Took about 30 minutes of hard work to reach the top.

The sky continued to darken and the clouds were looking ominous as we continued along the trail. I knew it was just a matter of time, but would the rain hold off until we were safely ensconced at our “on-home”?

Shortly after the above photo was taken the skies opened up and the rain came down hard and fast. This created several problems. The already challenging downhill became muddy and even more treacherous. And the rain washed away most of the powder used to mark the trail which made it quite difficult to follow. Then my glasses got so damn wet I could barely see.

About half way down I lost the trail. No big deal. I knew where I was so it was just a matter of finding a decent path back down into Barretto. And I managed to do that without falling or otherwise fucking up. Once safely on the road (my old friend Rizal Extension) I noticed several Hashers on up ahead of me a couple of blocks. So I guess my downhill path must have run almost parallel to the one I should have taken. From there is was just enduring a rain soaked walk back to Johansson’s. All told the path I walked was just under 6 KM.

In other news I bought a plane ticket to Korea yesterday. I’ll fly out on May 30 and return to the PI on June 13. I’ll spend part of the time in Seoul and the rest in Pyeongtaek. I plan to catch up with some friends, walk old trails, and get my annual physical examination. Looking forward to it.

So, it turns out yesterday’s journey wasn’t to a remote island after all. Instead we traveled to a remote cove, Sampaloc Cove to be precise. A scenic place with some interesting history. Feel free to read more at the link above. Here’s some photos and commentary from the trip:

Another day in the life in the Philippines.

As opposed to Saturday night when I was–

Up earlier than normal this morning so I decided to take advantage of the relatively cooler hours and do an elongated hike.

I didn’t really expect I’d be out so long and didn’t bring enough water. I took my last swallow as I started my descent from the mountaintop and once I reached the bottom I was on Rizal Extension. I popped into one of the ubiquitous sari-sari stores and asked for a bottle of water.

Anyway, this one didn’t have any water available but the owner vaguely pointed across the street and said something in Tagalog. I was pretty thirsty at this point so I walked over and asked an older gentleman sitting there if he had water for sale. There were several empty bottles of Red Horse (a powerful local beer) sitting on the table in front of him so I think he was halfway drunk. But he hopped up and went inside then came back out carrying some chunks of ice in his unwashed hands. He said the water wasn’t cold and I said that’s fine, I don’t mind warm water. He waved me off, then proceeded to smash the ice against the dirty wall until the pieces were small enough to fit into a container sitting on the table. Then he filled the container with water from a dispenser he had sitting on the porch. He smiled and said “just wait, it will chill”.

Hmm. Well, I would have preferred the water direct from the dispenser, but what are you gonna do? He asked me how old I was, I told him 63. He smiled and said that he and his friend (who was sitting at the other end of the porch) were both 55. So, we all shook hands. Then I poured the water from his container into my empty water bottle. I offered him some money for his trouble and he refused it saying “we are neighbors”. So I thanked him again and was on my way.

And there you have a good example of Filipino friendliness. I’ll let you know if I develop a case of diarrhea. Yes, I did quench my thirst with the gifted water. I also bought a bottle of Gatorade at the next sari-sari store I came across.

Anyway, I finished my hike with a jaunt over a portion of My Bitch without further incident. Well, I was accosted by a pack of dogs, but I was prepared for those bastards since they always seem to lay in wait of an ambush at the end of that trail. I had my walking stick and a handful of rocks at the ready and challenged them with a hearty “come and get it motherfuckers!”. The keep barking but back off a respectable distance from the crazy guy. I learned that the best course of action is being aggressive with aggressive dogs from my days as a mailman.

And that was the end of today’s adventure. So far.

It’s not having what you want
It’s wanting what you’ve got

I’m gonna soak up the sun
I’m gonna tell everyone
To lighten up (I’m gonna tell ’em that)
I’ve got no one to blame
For every time I feel lame
I’m looking up
I’m gonna soak up the sun

Yeah, one of those wallowing in self pity kind of days.

Anyway, I’ll get over it. Soon I hope.

In the meantime, I decorated my dart board up some with souvenirs from my glory days, such as they were.

All the love I’m getting these days is of the canine variety.

And this gave me a chuckle:

That’s all I got today folks. I’m off to the orphanage for my monthly pizza party with the kids this afternoon. That ought to cheer me up. Or at least snap me out of this feeling sorry for myself bullshit. We’ll see.

To think that only yesterday
I was cheerful, bright and gay
Looking forward to, well, who wouldn’t do
The role I was about to play

But as if to knock me down
Reality came around
And without so much as a mere touch
Cut me into little pieces

Leaving me to doubt
Talk about God in His mercy
Who, if He really does exist
Why did He desert me?

And in my hour of need
I truly am, indeed
Alone again, naturally

The worst thing about being retired is that you never get a day off. To hell with that, I took one yesterday anyway. Of course, since I don’t do much anyway it’s hard to tell the difference. In this case, the difference was that I just completely blew off walking. Other than walking to the bars I mean. I’m not crazy!

Speaking of the hike, thanks to Kevin Kim for the shout out on his blog. As I told him in the comments I am unworthy of such high praise. But I appreciate the support!

We can all use a little encouragement after all:

And oh yeah, I stole this one from Kev’s blog too:

What else? Well, we had a little aftershock at 0200 which I happened to be awake for because I was doing one of my coughing jags. Not sure what is going on with the lungs but I’m periodically hocking up gobs of phlegm and experiencing shortness of breath. Not as bad as it was a couple of years ago, but not as good as I had been doing a couple of months ago. Maybe it’s just the heat or a touch of bronchitis. I plan on getting a complete physical exam when I visit Korea next month.

Also, deafness is getting to be quite a problem for me lately. I never thought I’d hear myself say that. *ahem*

Speaking of the earthquake situation, there was another largish quake yesterday on the next island over. The Philippines sits on the infamous “ring of fire” so I guess this is nothing to get all shook up about.

Alright, well time for me to get off my lazy ass and walk the dogs. But not before leaving you some gratuitous proud dog owner photos.

Happy trails to you!

Please don’t ask me what’s on my mind
I’m a little mixed up, but I’m feelin’ fine
When I’m near that girl that I love best
My heart beats so it scares me to death!

She touched my hand what a chill I got
Her lips are like a volcano that’s hot
I’m proud to say she’s my buttercup
I’m in love
I’m all shook up
Mm mm oh, oh, yeah, yeah!

Quite an adventure yesterday climbing the rocks on Easter mountain and once we got back down, the rocks began to roll. But bottom line up front, I made it to the top.

Success was in question before I even got started. As we made our way to the drop off point in the Hashmobile I realized I must have left my walking stick back at Johannson’s. Shit! Well, I wasn’t sure I was going to attempt getting all the way up anyway, discretion being the better part of valor and all. But without my stick I knew I was fucked. I rely on it for balance going up and more importantly, as a brake on the way back down. So upon arrival I get out of the truck and I’m contemplating my next move when a fellow Hasher hands me my stick and says you left this inside. So, it seemed fated that I was going to at least attempt to climb the mountain.

And indeed it was more of a climb than a hike. Getting up required the use of hands as well as feet, which is unusual. I knew from observing the mountain from a distance that the last 1/3 of the trail would be the steepest and toughest and I was not disappointed in that regard. There were a couple of times the voice in my head was saying “fuck this!” but my response was always “too late to turn back now!” And as I mentioned at the outset, in the end I persevered.

Coming back down presented its own challenges, primarily gravity and forward momentum. But with the aid of my trusty walking stick I maintained balance and kept me feet on the ground where they belong.

So, when it was all said and done I’m glad I made the climb and will look forward to doing it again next year. Maybe.

Once back on flat ground we were awaiting the arrival of the stragglers. And then I heard a low, rolling, rumble. And suddenly there was a whole lotta shakin’ going on. Yep, an earthquake was upon us. I grew up in SoCal so it wasn’t new to me, but that feeling of helplessness in the face of Mother Nature doing her thing is something you never get used to. Some reports put the epicenter at just a few kilometers from where I stood. And at 6.1 on the Richter scale, it was quite a ride. Only lasted about 15 seconds which is a good thing given the general lack of quality in construction methods and materials in these parts. That said, news reports say 8 died and several buildings were damaged, including the terminal at Clark airport in Angeles.

Quite the day! Let’s go to the pictures:

It was a day full of challenges and excitement. Just what I needed!

Well, actually I haven’t felt groovy since around 1969. But that old song came up in my playlist while hiking yesterday so I thought I’d put the title to use. These days everything might not be right on, but my life is pretty far out and all things considered that’s outta sight! Damn, I can still speak 1970s.

So, I didn’t do the Wednesday Sausage Walkers yesterday, although I had planned to. In fact I was the first one to arrive at Angel’s Bakery for the meetup. When the Germans announced we’d be taking the Hashmobile out to some place I’d never heard of and walking back, I bailed. The thing is I’m just not thrilled that this Aryan contingent tends to like to take things to the extreme. They prefer the longest and hardest trail they can find. That’s good for them, but I’m 63 fucking years old with respiratory issues and it’s hot as hell these days. I’ll go with the group here in Barretto and find my own way back when I’ve had enough. Being driven out of town and dropped off in parts unknown precludes that option. So no thank you!

I’m used to walking on my own and so that’s what I did. I decided to forego my standard hikes and look for something a little different. I had a particular area in mind I wanted to explore but one turn led to another and I never found my way there. Ah well, another day I’ll try again. Most of what I did was new so in that regard, mission accomplished.

Via Facebook comes the news that my friend Mi Young Han has been named the Camp Humphreys Volunteer of the Year. I wrote about her and the work she was doing almost single-handedly for the Asan Angels animal shelter here.

I developed a bit of a crush on her I admit, but alas, it was never mutual. If only I’d been a stray dog!

Speaking of dogs, I can thank Mi Young for inspiring me to do the rescue thing. I’m not sure who’s benefited more, me or the dogs, but I’m glad to have them.

Yesterday’s hike took me near “Easter” mountain. That’s not the real name, but it’s the traditional place where believers climb up on Easter morning to see the sunrise. And the Hash will do the climb on Monday.

In the meantime, Keep on Truckin’!

Most of the cats that you meet on the streets speak of true love,
Most of the time they’re sittin’ and cryin’ at home.
One of these days they know they better get goin’
Out of the door and down on the streets all alone.

Truckin’, like the do-dah man. Once told me “You’ve got to play your hand”
Sometimes your cards ain’t worth a dime, if you don’t lay’em down,

Sometimes the light’s all shinin’ on me,
Other times I can barely see.
Lately it occurs to me what a long, strange trip it’s been.

And that’s all I got. Just another day in paradise.

If you had just a minute to breathe and they granted you one final wish
Would you ask for something like another chance?
Or something similar as this? Don’t worry too much
It’ll happen to you as sure as your sorrows are joys
And the thing that disturbs you is only the sound of 
The low spark of high-heeled boys

If I gave you everything that I owned and asked for nothing in return
Would you do the same for me as I would for you?
Or take me for a ride, and strip me of everything including my pride
But spirit is something that no one destroys
And the sound that I’m hearing is only the sound
The low spark of high-heeled boys