Who me? Um, no. Not yet anyway. How do you define cavorting?

Last night was my first weekend out as a newly free man. As usual, I started out in Cheap Charlies. Got there in time to enjoy the sunset.

One of my favorites in this bar is Maya, so I had her join me while I imbibed my beers. Well, she joined me for the lady drink commission, but still. She’s a nice enough gal, pleasant personality, and gives a pretty good back rub. Interestingly, she’s a Muslim. Don’t see many of the pedophile Muhammad’s disciples working in a bar. Although Maya’s drinks are in fact non-alcoholic. She’s sexy enough though and I probably wouldn’t mind “doing her”, but alas, Cheap Charlies is not a prostitution bar. Of course, the gals are free to do as they please before/after work. I kinda got mixed signals on whether Maya would seriously consider a date or if she was just playing me for more drinks. If I had to place a bet I guess my money would be on the latter. Just as well I suppose.

I decided to change things up and visit the recently opened Thumbstar bar. This is your standard go-go bar with scantily clad dancers. And yes, the girls are available for takeout. I was a little surprised to discover that at a little after 8:00 on a Friday night, I was the only customer. I sat down and ordered up a beer. There were maybe five or six dancers on the stage and one of them caught my eye. A tiny little thing, but cute as a bug. She was making eye contact and smiling at me so I knew she was obviously thirsty. Like any gentleman would, I called her down to join me. Oh my. Her name is Rose. At 32 she’s a bit long in the tooth for a dancer, but I prefer the gals to be approximately half my age, so no problem. And damn, she just snuggled right up to me and it felt so sweet and right. I was surprised how much I was enjoying her physical presence. We both had two drinks and then I knew it was best for me to move on. She made me promise to come back and see her again and so I reckon I will.

I then successfully crossed the National Highway without getting squashed and popped into the Alaska Club. Once again, I was the only customer. Well, it is rainy season which keeps the tourist numbers down I suppose. As is my custom, I called my usual dancer down to join me for drinks. Kim always insists I’m her favorite customer (I’m sure I was at the moment anyway). And since I didn’t have my ex with me as I had in the past, Kim was especially, um, friendly. Very touchy feely if you get my meaning. Now, nothing lewd or illegal, that’s not allowed in the bar of course. You have to pay to take the girl out for that kind of thing. And I think if I ever decide to barfine a prostitute, Kim might just be the one. But last night wasn’t the night for that. I’m still not ready to go “there”.

But. It did get me thinking. It might be fun to spend some intimate moments with Kim, or Rose, or maybe even Maya. Or hell, all three (but not at the same time! I’m in my 60’s for crissakes!). Now, don’t be concerned dear readers, I have no intention of making a prostitute my future ex-girlfriend. In fact, I’m trying to get my mind around the idea of living my life without a girlfriend at all. But that shouldn’t mean living without some female companionship now and then, right? These girls might be fun to hang out with for awhile, and then send them on their way. After paying them of course. So we shall see what the future holds in that regard.

This morning I went out and walked the trail I tried to do yesterday in reverse. I had somewhat better success I guess.

Progress is being made I guess, on both the emotional and Hash Hare fronts. Let’s see if I can stay strong and get things right this time.

I can’t light no more of your darkness
All my pictures seem to fade to black and white
I’m growing tired and time stands still before me
Frozen here on the ladder of my life

Too late to save myself from falling
I took a chance and changed your way of life
But you misread my meaning when I met you
Closed the door and left me blinded by the light

Don’t let the sun go down on me
Although I search myself, it’s always someone else I see
I’d just allow a fragment of your life to wander free
But losing everything is like the sun going down on me

Out into the heat and humidity on a quest to find a suitable wet weather trail for my upcoming stint as Hare. I figured a portion of My Bitch could work. No real steep hills so should be manageable. A small creek had some running water, but it was easy to hop across. There was some storm damage creating obstacles though:

The problem came a bit later when I began my descent. The path I planned on taking is apparently seldom used. After the rains it was overgrown in that tall ass grass. And I lost the trail. Tried to blaze my own way down but kept getting stymied by impassible obstacles. Finally, I gave up and tried heading back to the top and got turned around somehow and a little bit lost. I eventually got back to the junction and then once again tried to find the trail down. But it was so overgrown as to be invisible. I gave up and did the long walk down Rizal Extension and eventually back home.

I still got three weeks to figure something out.

In other news, today is the anniversary of Buddy’s rescue.

He has his “accidents” now and then (like this morning), but he’s a good boy and loves to give me hugs when I come home. Hard to not love him back.

And then there was my drunken snack when I finished my bar crawl last night.

And I had it a la mode. That’s French, right?

Time for the afternoon walk now. Stay tuned!

Welp, the valley trail I was thinking about for July 22 ain’t gonna work after all. Went out this afternoon for a scouting expedition and it turned out looking like this:

Anyway, I’ve got a couple of more weeks to explore some alternatives.

Meanwhile, the dinner I prepared tonight was well worth the time and effort. If I do say so myself.

And life goes on.

Well baby, there you stand
With your little head, down in your hand
Oh, my God, you can’t believe it’s happening again
Your baby’s gone, and you’re all alone
And it looks like the end.

And you’re back out on the street.
And you’re tryin’ to remember.
How do you start it over?
You don’t know if you can.
You don’t care much for a stranger’s touch,
But you can’t hold your man.

You never thought you’d be alone this far down the line
And I know what’s been on your mind
You’re afraid it’s all been wasted time

The autumn leaves have got you thinking about the first time that you fell
You didn’t love the boy too much, no, no, you just loved the boy too well,
Farewell
So you live from day to day, and you dream about tomorrow, oh.
And the hours go by like minutes and the shadows come to stay
So you take a little something to make them go away
And I could have done so many things, baby
If I could only stop my mind from wonderin’ what
I left behind and from worrying ’bout this wasted time

Oh, another love has come and gone
Oh, and the years keep rushing on
I remember what you told me before you went out on your own:
“Sometimes to keep it together, we got to leave it alone.”
So you can get on with your search, baby, and I can get on with mine
And maybe someday we will find , that it wasn’t really wasted time

I promise I am not going to turn LTG into the weather channel, but damn. Every time I think it can’t get worse, Mother Nature is like “hold me beer and watch this!”

I headed out for my afternoon hike right after I posted yesterday. I was looking for a new back way out of the neighborhood but kept hitting a dead end. Finally I retreated back to the asphalt and then the skies opened up again. I went ahead and walked the subdivision to get my steps in but it was pretty unsatisfying.

Later on, after an indoor shower, there was another break in the action so I made my way down to Cheap Charlies for some brews.

Before long it was raining harder than ever. I sat there astounded as within a hour the freakin’ National Highway through town was under water. Shocking really.

I didn’t have much choice but to remain there drinking beer until the rain finally let up and the flood waters receded. After a couple of hours I managed to make my way home safely. And then it proceeded to rain all night long and into this morning.

I did sneak out for a bit today but only got as far as Rizal street.

Anyway, I’ll be back with something more substantive later. Yeah, I know. Promises, promises.

If the rain comes they run and hide their heads
They might as well be dead
If the rain comes, if the rain comes

Can you hear me, that when it rains and shines
(when it rains and shines)
It’s just a state of mind?
(when it rains and shines)
Can you hear me, can you hear me?

UPDATE: Well geez, I see I’ve used the “Stymied” title twice before. Back in January when I was trying to find the trail that has now become “My Bitch”. I also used it in July 2016 when I wrote about a sty on my eye. Clever, huh?

Apparently. I tend to avoid trite phrases like a plague, but damn, when it rains it pours! Pretty much non-stop for two days running now.

And of course, it’s been raining ever since so things are much worse on the streets now. This is when the shitty infrastructure really comes into play. The streets aren’t designed in such a way as that water rolls to the curb. Not that it would matter since the drainage systems are pretty much non-functional anyway. I’m not one to complain (much), but you’d think in a country where it rains hard four months a year they’d have figured out a better way. HaHa! I forgot. I’m in the Philippines. Take a deep breath. Relax. Accept the Filipino way. Ah, that’s better!

Yesterday in the late afternoon there was a brief pause in the storm so I figured I’d hustle on out to Alaska Club and watch the weekly Sons of Baccus (SOB) dance contest. I got about a hundred yards down the street and a light rain began to fall, so I opened up my umbrella. About this time one of the security guards pulls up in his trike and offers me a ride. I’m like, no thanks, I’ll walk. He gave me an incredulous look, and again patted the seat with a “get in” nod. I said, no really I need the exercise. He shrugged and rode off.

And then the skies opened up and water poured down in torrents. Actually, with the wind kicking in it poured down and sideways. My umbrella was no match for this onslaught and soon enough I was soaked to the skin and wading ankle deep through the river that a few minutes before had been a street. As I plodded along I could only mutter repeatedly “should have taken the trike. should have taken the trike…”

Made it to Alaska (about a ten minute walk) a few minutes before opening time. Jerry, the owner, let me in early, probably feeling sorry for me looking like a drowned puppy and all. I hadn’t been to Alaska for a couple of months and one of the dancers and a waitress both seemed gleeful to see my wallet me. I kid, but they were very sweet. It seems to be a thing here that the natives consider having a wet back will make you sick somehow. Sorta like the fan death thing in Korea. I assured them I’d be okay, but they insisted on drying me off as best as they were able. It did feel nice to have all that female touching going on, so who am I to complain? [I just went back and added commas to the second sentence in this paragraph. How did I do, Kevin?]

Anyway, the beer started flowing and soon enough I forgot about my wetness. I was asked to be a judge and accepted. I didn’t get photos of all the participating bars, but here are a couple:

In the end, I gave my first place vote to Alaska with Wet Spot a close second. Rum Jungle took third on my ticket. The other judges must have agreed because that was how the final result came down as well.

And so ended another night in paradise.

Bad dreamer, what’s your name
Looks like we’re ridin’ on the same train
Looks as though there’ll be more pain
There’s gonna be a Showdown

And it’s rainin’ all over the world
It’s raining all over the world
Tonight, the longest night

She came to me like a friend
She blew in on a southern wind
Now my heart is turned to stone again
There’s gonna be a Showdown

And it’s rainin’ all over the world
It’s raining all over the world
Tonight, the longest night

I guess yesterday’s post about my American lifestyle must have shamed inspired me enough to get more adventurous. If you can call breakfast an adventure that is.

Still, all in all not a bad dining experience.

Yesterday afternoon we got a brief but heavy rainstorm. When it seemed to be over I headed out for my hike. I wanted to see how the flat pathways in the valley fared as I intend to incorporate them into my July 22 trail as Hare.

Turns out there were quite a few puddles that had to be maneuvered around. And that was after only a relatively brief rainstorm. A sustained rain is going to make it impossible to hike without a fair amount of wading. I’m not sure there is really any workaround for that. A trail in the hills when it is wet also has issues like mud and treacherous footing. We’ll see.

With about two kilometers to go before reaching the shelter of my house the skies opened up again and I got drenched. It was actually kind of refreshing though. Wet with sweat or wet with rain, what difference does it make in the end?

And finally (everyone’s favorite words when it comes to posts here at LTG), I played darts last night at Alley Cats. Despite my lack of practice I threw pretty well and managed a third place finish. More importantly, I actually enjoyed myself. I’ve dropped out of the dart league this season but I do intend to go out and throw in the tourneys a couple times a week anyway. After all, man does not live by beer alone. And beer and darts go together nicely!

Rainy day people always seem to know
When you’re feelin’ blue
High stepping strutters who land in the gutters
Sometimes need one, too
Take it or leave it or try to believe it,
If you’ve been down too long,
Rainy day lovers don’t hide love inside, they just pass it on.

Life continues apace. I had a good week of walking, averaging over 23,000 steps per day. Given the heat and/or rain that’s not bad.

And of course, yesterday was Hash day. A pretty nice trail from Pubic Head, only one big hill and around 6.5 KMs.

Pubic Head usually takes lots of Hash photos, but he wasn’t out there with us yesterday, having laid the trail that morning. Here’s the only I took during the trek.

Hot Zone is the Grand Master’s bar and probably my least favorite venue for the Hash circle. In fact, we don’t really circle up as there is not enough room to do so. Still, we carry on with the traditional rituals.

As usual, I consumed my fair share of beer and then walked home in a driving rain storm.

And that’s the life I’m living here in a nutshell.

UPDATE: Adding a photo of Tom Stone, recently deceased. RIP.

Apparently.

Two more expat deaths this week, although I was not personally acquainted with either. I guess it is not to be unexpected when you are living in what is tantamount to a retirement community.

Here in the land of the living, I’ve been drafted to serve as the Hare for the July 22 run. I did some preliminary trail scouting today for that event.

Anyway, I’ve got a month to figure it all out. And now it is almost beer o’clock. Let me leave you with this golden oldie:

An office manager had money problems and had to fire an employee, either Jack or Jill. He thought he’d fire the employee who came to work late.

The next morning, both employees came to work very early. So the manager thought he would fire the first one who took a coffee break. Unfortunately, neither employee took a coffee break.

Then the manager decided to see who took the longest lunch break. Strangely, neither Jack nor Jill took a lunch break that day. They both ate at their desk.

Then the manager thought he’d wait to see who would leave work earliest, but both employees stayed after closing.

Jill finally went to the coat rack and the manager went up to her and said, “Jill, I have a terrible problem. I don’t know whether to lay you or Jack off.”

Jill said, “Well, you’d better jack off, because I’m late for my bus.”

Pretty much an ordinary day in the life here yesterday. Morning walk, nap, grocery shopping on the old Navy base. Then I had my driver drop me off at the mall in Olongapo City. Wanted to get my eyes examined. It’s been over two years since I got this prescription and sometimes I get eye fatigue when I’m reading on the computer.

I was somewhat taken aback when the salesclerk remembered me from that one time long ago visit. Kinda nice, but a little creepy too. Anyway, after waiting a few minutes I went in to see the optometrist. She spent a good 15 minutes with me and in the end said my corrected vision hadn’t changed since my last exam. That’s cool! Was very surprised when I was told there was no charge. They even repaired the nose pad on my old glasses.

As I exited the mall for the 15 minute walk to catch a Jeepney to Barretto I ran into a woman who looked vaguely familiar…

Back in Barretto I decided to quench my thirst at Cheap Charlies. And I couldn’t help but noticing this guy sitting at the bar.

Do you see what I saw? It’s a crappy photo but I was trying to be discreet. Eh, fuck it. Let’s try again:

Later I got up to take a piss, looked out the CR (comfort room/restroom) window and saw this:

Safely back to my cold beer and window seat. Look down to the street below and see this guy passing by:

Anyway, I’m glad to be me. Speaking of which, my blood/urine test results are back. I need to see a doctor for his/her interpretation, but my reading is that all my indicators fall within the normal range. Maybe I’ll live long enough so some fucker can mock my appearance on his blog…

Up early this morning as usual and when I looked out the window I saw a solitary cloud in the sky.

Rows and flows of angel hair
And ice cream castles in the air
And feather canyons everywhere
I’ve looked at clouds that way
But now they only block the sun
They rain and snow on everyone
So many things I would have done
But clouds got in my way

I’ve looked at clouds from both sides now
From up and down and still somehow
It’s cloud’s illusions I recall
I really don’t know clouds at all

Moons and Junes and Ferris wheels
The dizzy dancing way you feel
As every fairy tale comes real
I’ve looked at love that way
But now it’s just another show
You leave ’em laughing when you go
And if you care, don’t let them know
Don’t give yourself away

I’ve looked at love from both sides now
From give and take and still somehow
It’s love’s illusions I recall
I really don’t know love at all

Tears and fears and feeling proud,
To say “I love you” right out loud
Dreams and schemes and circus crowds
I’ve looked at life that way
But now old friends they’re acting strange
They shake their heads, they say I’ve changed
Well something’s lost, but something’s gained
In living every day.

I’ve looked at life from both sides now
From win and lose and still somehow
It’s life’s illusions I recall
I really don’t know life at all

Well, that’s not really fair. Fact is we weren’t on a trail.

One of the characteristics of the Wednesday Walkers that differs from Hashing is that there is no prearranged trail. Usually someone takes the lead and we just see where the path takes us. Except when we lose the path.

And by wrong I mean coming down a steep hillside with no trail whatsoever…we were blazing a new path! And what a path it was. Vines and roots grabbing at the ankles. Vines wrapping around your waist. Ducking under branches only to have vines tangled around your neck. Sometimes all at once. It was a freakin’ nightmare. We all survived without injury although a couple of us were on our ass almost as much as on our feet. But once we had started down no one was willing to try and climb back up. That’s how it goes sometimes I suppose.

It was a mostly good day.

And last night I played darts at Alley Cats. I always have low expectations given my penchant for not giving a damn practicing. Surprised myself by taking first place with my partner Gerlie. Undefeated through the winners bracket and took out rivals Steve (who beat me in the MVP) and Alan (who I always enjoy beating). It’s doubles though so I can’t take all the credit. I threw much better than normal as did my partner.

Good times in the Philippines!

We Hash rain or shine. Yesterday there was a downpour about an hour before the Hash’s scheduled start. But by the time we loaded up in the Hashmobile the rain had stopped. The problem was that the heavy rain obliterated the trail–none of the marks the Hare had worked so hard to place so we could find our way remained after the deluge. Just one of the joys of Hashing in rainy season I suppose.

To his credit, the Hare (Bush Diver) did come out on trail with us so he was able to point out where the intended starting point was. He’s older than me and only a little bit faster so it wasn’t long until we were bringing up the rear. Everyone else just went on ahead and found their own trails.

We started with a 30 minute steep and muddy climb to the top of the mountain. Then we walked the muddy ridge line path before making our way back down. The mud was thick and sticky, it felt like I had an inch worth on the bottom of both shoes. The only way to remove it was to scrape it off. A real pain in the ass. It was steep and slick coming down as well and it resulted in a Hash crash for yours truly. My feet both suddenly slipped out from under me leaving me laying on my back in the mud. Luckily only my pride was hurt.

Once we finally made it down off the mountain I did something for the first time in my Hash career–I hailed a trike to carry me to our on-home at Da’Kudos on Baloy beach. I’d been on trail for an hour and half and I just wasn’t wanting to walk the streets for another 45 minutes caked in mud.

In other news, I was at Lourdes hospital this morning. Weird being there again precisely one week after Greg’s passing. I gave them a blood and urine sample so they can confirm that I’m as good on the inside as I am on the outside. Hopefully.

A bit of a pain in the ass in true Filipino fashion. I went up to the cashier to pay the associated fees of P11,970 ($220) and their credit card machine was unable to make a connection. This required me to take a trike back into town, withdraw funds from an ATM, and trike back to the hospital. Anyway, I took a deep breath, relaxed, and accepted things as they are here.

The sun is shining today so I guess I have no excuse to avoid my afternoon walk. Well, it is hot as hell…

Or perhaps more appropriately, the city of soiled doves.

I don’t like Angeles City but in a perverse kind of way it’s good to periodically have a short visit there just to remind myself why. And as an added bonus it makes Barrio Barretto so much more appealing.

I blew into town yesterday for a brief overnight stay. I had made an impulsive decision to attend a dance contest in AC featuring the Hot Zone dancers, a bar owned by the Grand Master of Subic Hash.

Upon arrival I went out in search of something to eat. And seeing as how roughly half the signage in the area was in Hangul, I figured I couldn’t go wrong with Korean food. I settled on a place in the lobby of the W hotel on Walking Street which featured some street side tables. That proved to be a mistake.

One of my pet peeves in AC is the beggars and street vendors. And from the moment I sat down it seemed that every other passerby was either asking for money or trying sell me something I didn’t need. A lot of the beggars were young kids, but damn it, I wasn’t about to reward their unacceptable behavior of interrupting a man’s meal. There’s a time and a place, even for charity.

The food service was also spotty. The waitress forgot to bring my beer. And came back to say my dwaeji galbi was “not available”. I pressed her on how a Korean restaurant could be out of galbi and she replied that it was “still marinating”. Whatever. I had some bulgogi and samgyupsal, both of which were mediocre. Oh well.

I had some time to kill before the dance competition began at Insomnia Bar, so I sat down at a little outdoor bar next door. Had a few drinks and some nice chat with a bargirl there named Rona. What caught my eye about her was she had a fair skinned face with Western features and what appeared to be sexy legs under the short and flowing skirt she was wearing. When she got up to fetch a drink though I noticed one of her legs was deformed and quite a bit shorter than the other one. I’m not sure why but I felt a great deal of admiration for her perseverance. Rona told me she had lived in Barretto briefly a couple of years ago with her Aussie boyfriend and returned to AC after the relationship ended. And she claims to remember me from one of my long ago visits to AC. She pointed out where I had been seated, and since this was only the third time I can recall being at this bar and I had in fact sat there one time, perhaps she was right. Anyway, she was pleasant company.

Then it was on to Insomnia. Place was packed a full hour before the show and I was lucky to get a seat next to the dance floor (I prefer to sit further back). There were a few other guys I recognized who made the trip down from Barretto as well. To be honest, the actual competition was a disappointment. Alaska Bar did the same old tired routine I had seen numerous times and their girls just are not very attractive. Hot Zone has some hot dancers and did a sexy routine that was nice to watch. But the Insomnia gals were by far superior to their competitors. I didn’t even stick around for the judging.

I walked back to the hotel, had a banana split, then went to bed. Up early this morning and my driver (he spent the night in his car) was having coffee and waiting for me.

Back to Barretto and it’s been a rainy day here. So no walking for me today, but I did have a nice long nap. I’ll get after those steps again tomorrow I reckon.

Some sad news to report. A guy I know pretty well is currently on life support in the ICU at Lourdes hospital here in Barretto. I wrote an unflattering post about him back in September last year. We haven’t had a recurrence of that drama since then and actually have gotten along pretty well on those occasions we’ve been in the same place at the same time. Greg’s big problem has always been the drinking, or more specifically, the way he acts when he’s been drinking to excess. And that’s pretty much all the time.

Anyway, his lifestyle appears to have caught up with him. It really came as no surprise that the life threatening issues he faces primarily involve the liver. His girlfriend texted me last night that the doctor said he had a “50-50” chance to recover. This morning when I went to the hospital to visit he was in a coma. The girlfriend has been in contact with Greg’s mother who understandably wants to wait a few days before pulling the plug. This afternoon the girlfriend asked me for some money to purchase blood platelets the doctor suggested so perhaps not all hope is lost. Still, it doesn’t look good at all.

It’s really a shame though. Greg is only 44. He retired after twenty years in the military and has been living here on his pension these past four years. And getting drunk most every night. Unlike me, Greg does hard liquor, often straight shots. I drink light/low alcohol beer exclusively and only rarely get drunk drunk. Comparatively speaking, my liver is not being similarly abused. Or so at least I keep telling myself.

When I first heard from Greg’s girlfriend my thought was to get him the hell out of here to an American hospital as soon as possible. Obviously he is in no condition to travel but it wouldn’t matter anyway because I was informed that Greg lost his passport two years ago! Who does that and doesn’t bother getting it replaced? When I asked about his visa status the girlfriend said “he’s an overstay”. Yep, that figures. If he recovers he’s going to face some pretty sever reckoning with the Bureau of Immigration. They’ll lock him up until he can be deported but he can’t be repatriated without a passport. What a mess he has made of his life.

The girlfriend is doing her best to hold things together and be there for Greg. I admire her for that. But she is broke and so is Greg. The road ahead for her is going to be very difficult whatever happens. I guess this situation puts my recent whining about having sad memories in perspective, doesn’t it?

Ah well. Life goes on until it doesn’t. In the interim the best we can do is embrace the small pleasures that really do surround us. Like these guys:

UPDATE: Greg died this afternoon. May his soul rest in peace.

Mama, put my guns in the ground
I can’t shoot them anymore
That long black cloud is comin’ down
I feel I’m knockin’ on heaven’s door