Happy Daddy’s Day!

That would be my dad with our German Shepard, Toto.
And that’s Daddy me with my two kids.

And I was pleasantly surprised when the children from downstairs (Swan’s family) presented me with this collection of homemade Father’s Day cards:

“Tito” means uncle in Tagalog.

I also got a sweet message from my daughter, Renee. Being a father was a special time in my life, and I have no regrets. That’s why my “do-over” fantasy won’t work. I don’t want a world without my kids and grandkids.

As far as yesterday goes, it went better than the day before. Even had a 75 sleep score! Maybe that morning Decay Dance helped:

A stop along the way. That little boy calls me “daddy.” I’m innocent, I swear!
Come a runnin’!
An Easter Mountain view.
A shady girl in the tall grasses.
The 5K of steps in our Decay Dance.

Later in the day, when it was time for liquid refreshment, we made our way to Cheap Charlies.

Swan seems happy to be there.
A view from Cheap Charlies.

One of the attractions of Cheap Charlies for me these days is ordering something to eat from the Foodies restaurant downstairs. They have the best quesadillas in town IMO. Alas, neither of us got hungry during our visit. I can attest that those Ozempic shots have definitely suppressed my appetite. As often as not lately, I skip dinner.

When it was time for a change of scenery, we crossed the highway and plopped ourselves down at Sloppy Joe’s. More beer and wine, but a change of view. We wound up staying there until it was time to head back home.

Speaking of home, I found this on the kitchen table:

Does that make Swan a racist, too?

Courtesy of Facebook memories, here’s an old Father’s Day card my daughter sent me:

She knows me so well!

From the February 2020 LTG archives is the follow-up post about my Barangay testimony regarding the crazies on the Sampaloc Cove trip. As I understand it, the matter was eventually resolved with the crazy instigator being held liable, not the man she accused of attacking her.

In a kinda related moment, last night I dreamed about that incident for some reason. I was at an Angeles City Hash event, and this guy I didn’t recognize said the crazy instigator was his former girlfriend. When I asked what happened to her, he told me she was placed in “Hash Nauseum” as punishment. Whatever the hell that is. And yes, lately I have the strangest dreams, most of which I forget about in five minutes.

Today’s YouTube video features a vlogger talking about a two-week visit to the USA and what he missed about the Philippines while he was gone. I can relate. My last trip back home was going on 8 years ago now. I couldn’t get over how vanilla life seemed like in America. Chain restaurants, chain bars, and nothing of interest except my painful memories. I don’t know if I’ll ever go back.

Time out for our humor break:

Another form of birth control…

A man and a woman are riding next to each other in first class on a plane. The woman sneezes, then takes a tissue and gently wipes it between her legs. The man isn’t sure he saw what she did, and decides he is probably hallucinating.

A few minutes pass. The woman sneezes again. She takes a tissue and gently wipes it between her legs. The man is about to go nuts. He can’t believe that he’s seeing what she’s doing.

A few more minutes pass. The woman sneezes yet again. She takes a tissue and gently wipes it between her legs yet again. The man has finally had all he can handle.

He turns to the woman and says, “Three times you’ve sneezed, and three times you’ve taken a tissue and wiped it between your legs! What kind of signals are you sending me, or are you just trying to drive me crazy?”

The woman replies, ” I am sorry to have disturbed you, sir. I have a rare condition such that when I sneeze, I have an orgasm.”

The man, now feeling bad, says, “Oh, I’m sorry. What are you taking for it?”

“Pepper,” she replies.

Some gals have all the luck.

Luckily, I’m only a half-wit.

And that’s all I’ve got for today. I’m one of the Hares for tomorrow’s Hash, and against the advice of my co-Hare, we marked the trail this morning. And then this afternoon, the rains descended. Which means I’ll be going back out in the morning to replace the trail marks that likely washed away. And so it goes.

Maybe we're just shooting stars
Needing something to hold on to
But each thing we touch seems to vanish
Like candles and friends
They burn at both ends

Dance, they said
Life is only for the moment
The light is brief
Don't waste it
The taste is sweet, so taste it
So I said I understand
I'm dancing as fast as I can

The good, the bad, and the ugly

I’m not as advanced as this fella, so I stick to converting beer.

Yesterday was one of those days that started better than it ended, but you gotta take the good with the bad, I suppose. There was even a tad of ugly along the way, so I guess I should have had some Western-style spaghetti, but I’m no Clint Eastwood. Actually, I once again skipped dinner, probably thanks to that Ozempic injection. Anyway, I’m not really complaining, it is what it is, but at the end of the day, I was pretty much overwhelmed with thoughts about the upcoming end of the road and all the shit I’ve dealt with along the way. I’m still gonna try to make the best of whatever time I have left, regardless.

Once again, no one wanted to participate in the Friday group hike, so Swan and I headed out for a Barretto street walk on our own. Not much new or interesting to see along the way, but we got our steps in.

The creek beside Columban College was backed up. We need some more rain to get that trash flowing to the bay where it belongs.
Lota had an 85-year run, which is quite the accomplishment in these parts.
This squadron of helicopters of unknown origin passed loudly overhead.
We finished just shy of 7 kilometers on our boring trek.

As usual, at beer o’clock we headed into town. It Doesn’t Matter where we stopped first, but yes, it was.

The view from my stool at IDM.
My table mates included Swan and her friend, Grace.
I frequently see this old guy stumbling around. He apparently lives at the Anbon Hotel and doesn’t let his handicap keep him from getting out and about. It’s actually quite inspirational and makes my silly complaints about life seem meaningless.

We finished our evening with stops at the new Jungle Bar (formerly Green Room) and Wet Spot. Jungle has hung some decorative flags, which are slightly better than the bare white walls we saw during our soft opening visit. Some guys were playing pool, so I got to watch that for my entertainment. There were five or six gals on stage, standing around as well. Wet Spot was quiet by comparison, but that’s fine by me, too. The beer was cold and wet, and that is what I came for.

We came home at the usual time, I had a bowl of sugar-free pudding, then hit the sack. The bad part of the day kicked in a couple of hours later when I awoke and couldn’t get back to sleep. For whatever reason, I couldn’t get my brain to shut up, and it was tossing shit memories, past fuckups, and my pending mortality right in my face. I usually can calm things down by escaping into some fantasy zone, like time travel. But last night, when I tried to go back and skip the relationship with Jee Yeun altogether, moving to the Philippines in 2010 as originally planned, my brain wasn’t having it. My years with Jee Yeun were the best years of my life, and having her there to help through the transitions of retirement and losing my parents was a godsend. Then that fucking song, “I wouldn’t have changed it for the world,” wouldn’t stop playing in my head. Yep, it was a rough night.

That’s my lowest sleep score ever.

Oh, well. It’s bound to get better.

On a brighter note, at least it is cheap to eat out here. I’m talking about food! But, come to think of it, that other stuff is also comparatively inexpensive.

Although I rarely eat the local food. My Western-style meals are in the $8-$12 range. Still cheaper than back home.

Wrapping up the January 2020 LTG archives is a post about the aftermath of the encounter with the crazy girls on the Sampaloc trip. Complaints were filed with the Barangay, and I was called as a witness. Nothing was resolved that day, but I’m due back for a follow-up. Stay tuned! And speaking of crazy, the last post of the month reports that the first case of COVID was found in Manila. Also, all the drug stores in Barretto were sold out of masks. I didn’t know the insanity that lay ahead in the coming months,

For today’s YouTube video, the story of the eruption of Mount Pinatubo thirty-five years ago and its immediate aftermath. All these years later, they are still harvesting the lahar from the riverbeds, so I guess that’s a positive note.

I still have my sense of humor, such as it is.

Can you still get it up, old man?
I was tired yesterday, and today I’m retired.
It takes a lickin’ and keeps on tickin’!

Yeah, I’ve had enough of this nonsense, too. I do appreciate my loyal readers and commenters. This blog is one of the few remaining connections I have left in this life.

Back in the groove

That explains the accusations!

It’s nice to be getting back into the swing of things here in Barretto after a couple of days away. Here’s how things went down yesterday after returning from Pundaquit.

Kicked it off with a visit to Dr. Jo for my weekly Ozempic injection. Her hubby, Chris, was there as well, and it was good to see him again. Chris has opened a brewery on Siargao Island, and he says it is going well thus far. I do believe I’m going to schedule our July “get out of town” trip to pay a visit on his side of the island. Anyway, the weekly weigh-in indicates I’ve lost a couple more pounds, and I’m down to 242.7. Still a LONG way to go to reach my under 200 pounds goal.

Since I was already on that side of town, I stopped by the poolside bar at Outback and waited for Swan to meet me there.

There she is swingin’ away.

Next stop, Mango’s for dinner.

The view from our table. And yes, we had the pork chops, just like we always do.

After our meal, we crossed the highway and popped into Gold Bar.

They’ve expanded their dancer line-up since our previous visit. Even added a couple who are cute.
Although Swan didn’t seem to be all that impressed.

Then we moved on to our nightcap venue:

It was pretty quiet during our visit, but the beer was cold, and the staff was friendly.

Getting away for a bit makes the home turf all the sweeter.

We’ve entered January 2020 in the LTG archives. I was halfway through the month before I found a post worthy of inclusion in “the story of my life.” Well, a visit to Sampoloc Cove is always a pleasant experience, but this time things got a little insane.

For today’s YouTube video, I did a little time-travel back to 1492 when Columbus sailed the ocean blue. I spent ten minutes of my life there, but found it interesting enough that I didn’t regret the voyage. YMMV.

Here’s what comes next:

Stupid is as stupid does.
The only correct answer is “both.”
You still look horny…

And there you have it. Until next time.

Livin’ life

Yep, and every cut got doused in Mercurochrome, and it stung like hell.

The June “get outta town” adventure is now complete, and we are safely back home to our Barretto life. Our Wednesday in Pundaquit was filled with a nice morning walk through the backstreets of town, breakfast at the Beach Bar, hanging out in the room and on the patio, dinner at a great restaurant named Paraiso, then back to the Beach Bar for more beer and wine, beach views, and a sunset. Let the good times roll!

Check out some photos from the day:

Our morning stroll took us past the Pundaquit Barangay office.
We briefly considered walking the berm, but then decided the backroads were a better option.
Where does it go? Only one way to find out…
These guys that climb up trees to whack off are braver than I’ll ever be.
No more pavement as we approach the hills.
Hmm, one of the locals said it was “0nly” a 30-minute climb to the falls. Sadly, I wasn’t equipped for the challenge.
So we went this way instead and wound up back on the beach.
Hello there.
A tree I liked and a girl I fancy.
The Philippines is a Catholic country after all.
The route we took on our 5K journey.
A relaxing after-hike breakfast.
The view from our table.

When it was time for our evening meal (we skipped lunch), it was off to Pundaquit town once more, about a 1K walk from our resort.

The Paraiso.
We were the only customers at 5 pm.
We ate here on previous trips, and the food never disappoints.
I had the pulled pork on a ten-inch baguette. I don’t remember ever enjoying a better-tasting serving of pulled pork.
Swan had the BBQ pork ribs, which were also excellent.

Then we hoofed it back to the Beach Bar for our after-dinner revelry.

Another day, another nice sunset.
A friendly table of expats hanging out last night at the Beach Bar.

When we’d had our fill of good times, we took a sandy stroll back to our hotel next door. And another fine day in the life came to a close.

Up and at ’em again this morning. Our ride home was due to arrive at 10 am, giving us plenty of time for a pleasant walk on the beach.

It’s a shit picture, but I could see myself living happily ever after in a beachfront house like that one.
I don’t think Swan would mind either.
Where the sun hits the water and the mountains meet the sand
There’s a beach that I walk along sometimes
And maybe there I’ll meet her, and we’ll start to say “hello”
And never stop to think of any other time
The Capones Islands.
Then we popped into the Sands Resort for breakfast (Wave Song, where we were staying, doesn’t have a kitchen). The Sands looks nice, but the rooms cost double what we were paying.
I had a hankering for pancakes, and this is what I got. In all the years I’ve been alive, this is the first time I’ve seen pancakes with candies on top. Well, they were easily removed.
Swan enjoyed her traditional Filipino-style breakfast of corned beef.

Then back to the hotel to pack our bags for the journey home. Our ride was on time and dropped us at our door in just over an hour. And now it’s back to being normal again.

Facebook memories shared some photos from a Father’s Day post I did a while back:

My father’s father.
My father.
My father’s son.
This father’s son.
Fathers and sons. (That photo was taken in the Bahamas at my daughter’s wedding.)

We’ve reached the end of December 2019 in the LTG archives. Today I’ll offer up a two-fer. In this post, I go on a racist rant. No, not me, I was complaining about racists like Michael Moore. Things have only gotten worse since then. On a lighter note, I share a pictorial recipe for my favorite holiday treat: my Aunt Pat’s World Famous Fruit Salad, which I had finally found the necessary ingredients to make for the first time in the Philippines.

In today’s YouTube video, the vlogger goes on a rant about expats telling other expats who complain about things in their adopted homeland to “go back to your own country.” I’m not one of those, although I might share the wisdom of my mantra with them: “Take a deep breath. Relax. Accept the Filipino way.”

Time out for a smile:

Don’t go breaking my heart.
I’d hit that.
Tongue in groove.

My daily duty here is now complete. Back with more tomorrow if fate allows.

A beachy birthday

Thanks, Scott, for sharing this AI rendition.

Greetings from Barangay Pundaquit, municipality of San Antonio, Zambales province, on the lovely island of Luzon, here in the Philippines. The Wi-Fi in my room here at the Wave Song Resort sucks big time, so hopefully I can make it through this post.

The good news is that it appears Swan enjoyed her 42nd birthday very much. One of her friends provided our transport to Pundaquit, and Swan’s sister and a couple of friends came along for the ride. So, we had a birthday luncheon at one of our favorite places here, CMC Car Wash. Yeah, that’s a weird name for a restaurant/bar, but the food and atmosphere are to my liking.

The Car Wash.
Our group for lunch.
I had the pork ribs. A Facebook commenter asked if that was a whale’s dick. Whatever, they were tasty.
The gals ate Filipina-style.
Our waitress put on the happy birthday song and took this photo of Swan blowing out her candle.

After lunch, we were dropped off at our beachfront hotel room.

Same room as before, small but adequate.
The view from our porch.
A Swan on the beach.
The love boat.
Conveniently located right next door to our hotel.
Time for a selfie.
The main bar/dining area.
The view from the bar.
An older woman at the bar.

Then we moved outdoors to the Beach Bar beach and sat in a covered area.

That would be it.
Waiting for the sun to go down.
The mountains here are easy to look at.
Let’s get on with the show.
I like it.
Nice colors, thanks to the clouds.
Wowza!

Thanks for the show! We finished our evening back in the bar area.

We treated the crew to a lady drink, cookies, and lollipops.

Then it was time to pay our tab for the evening. A little over 2000 pesos all in, including a bottle of wine for Swan, the lady drinks, and NINE bottles of beer for me. Not bad for an old guy.

From the December 2019 LTG archives is another “day in the life” type post, but this one stood out as a reminder of my random encounters with women in my bygone days of singlehood.

Today’s YouTube video caught my eye because it is only five minutes long. That’s important when your internet connection sucks. Anyway, it turned out to be quite thought-provoking. It reminded me of a childhood memory. There was a car wreck near my house, and when someone opened the passenger side door, a woman’s body fell out on the ground (this was before seatbelts and airbags). I recall thinking at the time, what if she had left home a minute later, or missed the traffic light at the previous intersection? Timing is everything.

How about trying these on for size:

My dad used to say he was Scotch-Irish. Drank like an Irishman, and when you wanted to borrow money, he was Scottish.
I’m pretty sure this is a serious post, but I found it funny. Karma truly is a bitch.
Grill it while you got it!

By golly, I made it through the post. Now let’s see what happens when I hit the “publish” button.

Scenes from a Sweet Stroll

I think I’ll have another beer…

Nothing to offer but more of the same old, same old, today. But I’ll keep it as painless as possible.

For the Sunday Sweets Stroll, I took a photo of each neighborhood we visited to share views of what real life looks like in my little corner of the world:

Neighborhood #1.
Calling out to one of our regulars who lives here, “Candy time!”
Stepping out of our first neighborhood of the day.
And stepping into the second neighborhood.
Neighborhood #2.
Entering neighborhood three.
Candy is dandy.
A narrow escape from ‘hood #3.
Heading for the fourth neighborhood.
Not much happening on a Sunday morning.
Let’s check out our next neighborhood.
The fifth stop was pretty busy.
This kid cracked me up.
Those dreaded stairs up to neighborhood six.
Will they ever end?
Why yes, yes they did.
Our busiest stop of the morning.
Enjoy your sweets!
Leaving neighborhood six behind.
And heading for seven.
A tomb with a view.
A short life, but apparently well-lived.
Seventh heaven and the last stop of the day.
Getting on down to the Govic highway.
That’s what Easter Mountain looks like from here.
Our chariot awaits.
Thanks for joining us!

The remainder of our Sunday routine includes a visit to Red Bar.

Hangin’ with the Red Bar lovelies.

We had some grub delivered from Foodies and shared it with the girls, then moved on for our nightcap at Jumpin’ Jacks. I got my ass kicked in two games of pool, then just chilled at the bar, enjoying my brews. Back home to a batch of smoothies and a good night’s sleep. Does it get any sweeter than that?

It’s the end of November 2019 in the LTG archives. I’m visiting Korea to say farewell to my former Deputy in Pyeongtaek before her departure home to the USA. Then it was back to Seoul for a long-ass hike with the famous distance-hiker, Kevin Kim. Kevin is also famous as a foodie, and he treated me to a great home-cooked meal as a reward for surviving the hike. That turned out to be my last trip to the country that changed my life.

Speaking of Kevin Kim, he sent me this YouTube video that served to remind me that having a “do-over” life is not necessarily a good thing. It’s a combo comedy-sci-fi short (around twenty minutes) and a very enjoyable watch. Go see for yourself!

Watching that reminded me of an old comic I read back in my teens called “I have eternal life, and it is killing me.” Thanks to Google, I was able to find this version of the story to share. Be careful what you wish for!

Let’s finish with a smile or three:

Who gives a crap?
What the hell…
Or just have AI render what you need.

Sorry, I’ll try to do better next time. It’s Hash Monday and another Leech My Nuggets/Anal Receptive trail through the hills. No worries, I’ve already got my shortcut plotted. But I am going to do the hilly part this week. Assuming I survive, I’ll tell you all about it tomorrow.

Last night at Red Bar, the playlist was classic rock hits from the 1960s. I enjoyed the hell out of hearing songs I’d practically forgotten, like this one:

I can’t stop dancin’

We didn’t have a Corvair, but riding in the back of a ’58 Jeep pickup truck was every bit as exciting.

Yeah, I’m back again to provide your daily dose of nothingness. Here’s how things looked yesterday, starting with the weekly Decay Dance.

For whatever reason, I was motivated to photograph some of the family compounds we service with candy bags. This is our first stop.
Next stop.
And another stop.
At the entrance to Marian Hills, a neighborhood of small houses built as a US Navy volunteer project back in the 1980s.
Bata, bata, chocolata!
On the quiet streets of Marian Hills.
As usual, these three were waiting for us when we arrived.
That young lad was vigorously pumping the well handle to fill buckets of water for laundry day.
Life can be hard, but the locals always have a friendly smile to share when we pass.
A shanty on the hill.
Everyone loves the candy girl.
Another poor village.
Dispensing sweetness.
Over the river.
A simple, but adequate bamboo dwelling.
Stopping at a roadside stand for some banana bread.
I’ve always been curious about the story of this abandoned mansion on the riverside.
And finished with our Dance for the day.

When beer o’clock arrived, we were off to It Doesn’t Matter. We had the outdoor patio to ourselves and enjoyed the street views as we imbibed. Then it was on to Queen Victoria for our nightcap.

The view from our seat at Queen Vic.

And that’s how I made it through another day without biting any dust.

I’m hoping for a Rubio-Vance ticket in 2028.

From the LTG November 2019 archives, I recount the tale of my 75th Hash run, where the Philippine Navy detained our group for trespassing on a Navy base. Um, we were just following the Hash trail, and there were no fences or no-trespassing signs. The Navy’s response was “we should have known better.” All these years later, we still give the Hares (Leech My Nuggets and Anal Receptive) shit about it.

Today’s YouTube video is another of those AI-rendered journeys to the past; this time, 1956. It is accompanied by a very nice song, which makes the six minutes go by easily. I was alive in ’56, but still in infancy. Even so, the lack of people smoking and everyone being dressed in formal style is a dead giveaway. Where are the working-class families like my mom and dad?

Here I go with this crap again:

Nothing like a poke and a prod for encouragement.
Did you order the stool pigeon?
What glasses? I don’t see any glasses.

And now I’ve done my duty for the day. Hope you enjoyed today’s glimpse into my life in paradise. Such as it is.

Showing off our independence

I remember those days.

These days, I avoid stress and drama as much as possible, and I can always rely on my mantra, “take a deep breath, relax, accept the Filipino way,” whenever the need arises. The bullshit in the comments of late has been a tad irritating, but I’m over that now, too.

Here’s how I spent Independence Day in the Philippines:

For the Friday hike, we did a scouting mission for the upcoming June 22nd Hash trail.

Just the three of us.
We rode a Jeepney out to Philseco Road on the far side of Subic and started our journey there.
When I first moved here, that woman in front was a Hasher I was crushing on. She rejected me. Her life appears to have gone south since then.
Swan doing her lollipop thing.
A Catholic church in the boonies.
Into each life some sunshine must fall.
My favorite tree is still leaning.
A brief respite from the pavement.
Hmm, sari-sari, out of stock.
Another successful rickety bridge crossing.
This lola is always so grateful for the small amount of assistance I provide.
It will be around 7K for the Hashers.
Dressed up in our Independence Day fashion, featuring the Filipino eagle and flag.

And then at the appointed hour, we headed out to visit the newly reopened BarCelona. Except it wasn’t. All the lights were on as we climbed those god-awful stairs, but then we walked inside an empty bar. One unfriendly Filipino was inside, taking pictures, and just grunted, “Not open.” I was a little irked coming back down the stairs. At the bottom was a foreigner, whom I presumed to be the manager, who said, “You are early birds, we don’t open until 6” (it was a little before 5), and I pointed out that the signage says “open from 2 onward.” He shrugged and said that was the former hours, and that he hoped we’d return later. We didn’t, but I’ll give them another chance at some point.

On the other hand, the new Jungle bar was in the midst of their “soft opening,” and we were warmly greeted when we walked inside. Well, there’s still a lot of work to be done, some of which was annoyingly going on during our visit, but when it is ready for a “grand opening,” I’m sure it will be nice. I still liked the old Green Room vibe better, but the girly bar customers at the other tables seemed to be having fun with the gals. I personally don’t like seeing all that hands-on business, but it didn’t appear the girls minded.

Me and my date enjoyed a cold beer (or two) and a glass of wine.
The Jungle dance stage.
Inside the Jungle. The CR behind that door is a new addition. No more going next door to take a leak!
The dancers weren’t hard on the eyes.

After finishing our drinks, we walked up the road a piece for something to eat at Myleen’s. Yeah, we both enjoyed some birria tacos.

When the sun goes down in the city. As seen when we exited Myleen’s.

We did our nightcap at the Alaska Club. Owner Jerry is still out of the country, and we were the only customers. Our regular waitress took good care of us and we rewarded her with a couple of lady drinks. At Swan’s suggestion, we bought a drink for a dancer who was actually putting in some effort. I didn’t want her at our table, though, because she looked a little wild in the eyes (I’m talking crazy), so she had her drink on stage.

A ghost town vibe in Alaska.

We didn’t buy drinks for the two gals who ignored my friendly greeting the other day. Whether or not they made the connection, I don’t know. I don’t care, either.

Then we were homeward bound. A batch of strawberry-banana smoothies was a nice transition to bedtime. And so our Independence Day revelry came to an end.

Not my Facebook memory, but this post on Facebook brought back memories:

That’s an aerial view of my alma mater, Westminster High School, from 1974 (I graduated in ’73.)

From the November 2019 LTG archives, I tell about the night I got robbed. Well, burgled technically, but I was home at the time. It could have been worse, I suppose, and in some ways, my failure to properly secure my sliding glass doors puts the onus on me. Well, I haven’t been a crime victim since (not counting Filipina scams), so there’s that.

Well, when you are in your 70s, you want to remember the first time you experienced the 70s. Today’s YouTube video was a little walk through the past that is gone forever now.

Forgive me, Father, for I have joked:

Give her the taxi fare for Friday, then.
Coincidentally, Swan made me French toast for breakfast.
That’s one way to commit suicide.

But enough of this nonsense.

The view I woke to this morning from my bedroom window.

Life is good.

Unfinished business

That’s why you say “cheers!” when you raise a glass…

The latest “news” in my so-called life is that I’ve agreed to join Scott (Pubic Head) as a Hare for the June 22 Hash Run. We haven’t pulled this duty for quite some time, and it’s good to step up and help fill a void. Of course, when two old farts are laying the trail, it ain’t gonna be a real hard one. It being rainy season and all, that might prove to be a good thing. A wet flat trail is better than a muddy steep one. That’s how I see it anyway.

Anyhow, we went out on a scouting expedition yesterday to recon a trail. The designated On-Home venue was at Smurf 69’s place in San Isidro (where we had the beer stop on Monday’s Hash). Scott pulled up a map from a walk we had taken last year out Naugsol way, and we decided to start there. It was a long trike ride from Barretto to get there, and we planned to hire a Jeepney for transport to the Hash. The hike itself was surprisingly pleasant and came in at just under a mostly flat 7K. Here are some photos to give you the flavor of our trek.

Swan and her sister Cathy joined in the fun.
Trudging my life away.
On the riverside.
Life in the countryside.
Onward!
I doubt the new bypass highway will be completed in my lifetime.
That’s an awfully steep ascent, and there is still a LONG way to go to reach the top of the ridgeline.
Most rural families cook with wood. That’s why it is called living in the sticks.
The Naugsal valley and Easter mountain.
A shady spot and some rehydration.
Scott walking the plank.
The trail that was meant to be but will not be.

So, after our successful scouting mission was completed, we learned that Smurf 69 was no longer interested in hosting the On-Home for the Hash on the 22nd. So, yesterday was a wasted effort in that regard, but it was still a nice hike. Tomorrow, we will go look for a new trail that takes us to the new On-Home at Hasher Sully’s place in Calapandayan. We’ll be exploring some variations on the Philseco loop. And so it goes.

After some R&R at home, Swan and I made our way out to Baloy Beach.

The beach was pretty much deserted.

But it wasn’t empty:

The receding tide had left behind a vivid reminder of just how trash-filled the Subic Bay truly is.
As you can clearly see.
One solution is to rake it all up and burn it. Not good for air quality, but still better than letting it stay on the beach.
We stopped by Kokomo’s Tiki Bar, where a Filipino-style family dinner gathering was taking place.
Swan and her wine.
A Kokomo’s view. As you can see, they’ve cleaned their beachfront.

We decided to change things up for dinner and visited the Viking Resort instead of Treasure Island.

We were in the mood for steak. It actually tasted better than it looked.

After our meal, we walked back to the highway and did our nightcap at Snackbar.

The view from our Snackbar table.

And that’s how we rolled through another day.

And I’ve rolled on to November 2019 in the LTG archives. Here’s how I dressed up for Halloween back then.

I also came across the YouTube video I’m sharing today in the archives from six years ago. It seems to have aged well.

HaHa, it turns out it is age-restricted now. Oh well, watch it here if you are curious as to why.

Let’s get today’s humor out of the way:

To make an ass out of you and me?
Could have been a close shave if the barber had gone looking himself.
Well, is looking at a woman’s ass considered hindsight?

And there you have the story of another day.

That was yesterday

Or just live it till it ends.

I’m not going to waste a lot of time on yesterday because it wasn’t special enough to warrant the effort. Every day at my age is a gift, so I’m not complaining. Let’s get this post done with so I can get back to the present.

Grocery shopping went without a hitch. I even remembered to unlock my credit card, Woohoo! Stopped by Dr. Jo’s for my weekly Ozempic injection. Everything seems to be going according to plan so far. At the appointed hour, we headed into town and kicked things off at Mango’s for dinner.

The view from our table.
The view at the table.
The view on the table. That’s our standard grilled pork chop fare.

Dinner was fine, but a fly drowned in Swan’s half-finished wine, so we didn’t stay as long as normal. I needed to replenish my wallet, but it took three tries to find an ATM that would dispense the desired cash. So, that foiled my plans to stay on the less-visited side of town, and we wound up at Sloppy Joe’s instead. And that’s where we stayed until it was time to head home. Yep, a nothin’ kind of day, but it will serve to make the rest of them better by comparison.

I was reminded today of that time in my life when I was bearded.

Ah, but I was so much older then, I’m younger than that now.

Back to the October 2019 LTG archives. My purpose in going through my old posts, besides reminding me of things I’d otherwise have forgotten, is to tag those I deem appropriate for use in the story of my life. Yes, one of my bucket list items is to put together an autobiographical book so when I die, I won’t be totally forgotten. Maybe some close friends and family members will want to know about that crazy guy who disappeared in Asia all those years ago. Maybe not, but I won’t care. When I die, the blog dies, and with it, twenty-plus years of writing about my life. Hmm, I guess this is a classic vanity project. Anyway, most of the crap I post isn’t worthy of being salvaged. But some of them have meaning for me, even in a small way. Today’s entry is just the typical post about another hiking day, but it mentions a gal named Ilene, whom I was longing for. We eventually did get together briefly, but, of course, I managed to fuck it up. Or maybe it was destiny intervening, so I’d still be around when Swan became available. That’s life.

For today’s YouTube video, I came across yet another vlogger who does AI time travel. That makes three (so far). This one, Daina, is pretty good and also very easy on the eyes. I like the concept of going back in time and hope someday to be granted a do-over myself. Anyway, enjoy Daina as she finds herself aboard the ill-fated Titanic.

(just now looking in the comments left on the above video, pointing out various inaccuracies in her depictions. I noticed a couple, but I still think it was worth the watch.)

On to the humor we must go:

A love to die for?
I guess he meant it when he said “till death do us part.”
Wow, what are the odds?

See, we got through today’s daily dose almost pain-free, didn’t we? More to come tomorrow.

I’m still dancin’

Sorta how I feel every time I look in the mirror.

Okay, nothing significant to report about the goings on around here, so you’ll be blessed with a short and sweet post today.

It being Saturday morning and all, we headed out for our weekly Decay Dance.

One of the more interesting things I saw along the way. Mama giving her chick a ride.
Easter Mountain from afar.
Trading candy for smiles in Marian Hills.
Three of our favorites.
On the road.

Best of all, there was no rain falling on our parade.

Later in the day, Swan went to see a friend in the hospital, and I waited for her at It Doesn’t Matter. When Swan arrived about an hour later, she wasn’t feeling well. She couldn’t even finish her glass of wine and wanted to go home. I, of course, being the gentleman that I pretend to be, told her I’d go with her. I asked if she minded stopping at Sit-n-Bull so I could get some takeout for dinner. Bless her heart, Swan suggested we go to Wet Spot and order from there. So, that’s what we did. I had a couple of beers, the food was delivered, and then we triked it on home.

I told you it wasn’t much of a day, but I’m still happy for the opportunity to have lived it.

It’s September 2019 in the LTG archives, and I’ve paid my first visit to Vietnam. Specifically, that city formerly known as Saigon. Having managed to avoid making that journey as a young soldier (the draft ended the year I became eligible), it was an eye-opener when I voluntarily went fifty years later. I was impressed enough to make Vietnam my “Plan B” choice should I ever feel the need to abandon the Philippines. Although I much prefer the Da Nang area to Saigon. Here are my first impressions. Then I did a day tour that featured a guide bragging about how the Viet Cong killed Americans. I bit my tongue a lot that day. I also posted about my food experiences at the behest of legendary foodie, Kevin Kim. And finally, a wrap-up pictorial post featuring scenes from around the city. All in all, it was one of my better travel experiences.

For today’s YouTube video, I couldn’t resist taking another journey with that time-travelling vlogger, Emma. This time, she visited Pompeii the day before the volcano erupted. Another nice job that held my interest, something that is increasingly difficult to do these days. See for yourself.

And I’ll finish things off with these:

Well, that won’t work. Maybe try anal.
In all seriousness, one of the keys to my career success was selecting outstanding individuals to work for me. They didn’t call it DEI back then, but I had EEO sending me emails about “under representation” in various racial categories. I always responded that I’d pick the best person for the job and only consider race as a factor if two individuals were equally qualified. As it turned out, my team was quite diverse. Even had a Filipina on staff.
There are worse things than being a dick.

As an added bonus, here’s an explanation of what I mean:

And so it went.

Under my umbrella

It used to work on our old black-and-white television when I was growing up.

Another rainy day is in the books. There’s no stopping the weather, so you either let it stop you or you get out there and make the best of it. The latter option is much more fun!

Scott joined Swan and me for the Friday group hike. We brought our umbrellas along and put them to good use as we traversed a 6K walk on the streets of Santa Monica and Matain.

We didn’t wait for pie-in-the-sky, by and by.
Pavement goes well with a rainy day.
That’s the dream house Scott built when he retired. Dreams die, and new dreams are born.
During our brief jaunt on the Govic Highway, Scott implemented the “walk facing traffic” credo.
As is our custom, we handed out lollipops along the way.
Bayside.
I have no idea what purpose this serves (or served).
Swan was swinging in the trees.
The path of our journey.

Unlike the previous couple of days, the rain didn’t stop when it was time to head into town. That didn’t stop us either. With umbrellas in hand, we ventured out to Baloy Road and popped into Harley’s.

Those folks didn’t let the rain stop them from swimming, but they must have gotten soaked!
Harley’s on the inside.
The view from our dining table.
Swan shared this mixed grill platter with me: chicken, pork chop, sausage, taters, and salad.

After the usual enjoyment of the Harley’s experience, we hoofed it over to Barretto proper and paid a visit to Gold Bar.

We were the only customers at a little past 6 pm.

A couple of beers (and a glass of wine) later, we did our nightcap at Queen Victoria bar.

Pretty busy night there at Queen Vic.
And then, surprise, surprise, my neighbor and high school alumnus, Mike, showed up. I’d never seen him at Queen Vic before.

Besides having someone to talk to, an added benefit of Mike’s presence was being chauffeured home in his comfortable automobile. A nice finish to our day.

Nearing the end of August 2019 in the LTG archives, and I came across another post chronicling the chapters of my working life. In this episode, I tell the story of my first promotion into management as a Safety Specialist. It was the first step in a long climb up the ladder.

I inadvertently discovered today’s YouTube video as I scrolled through the usual sites I visit. How could I resist a story about time travel? Yeah, it’s all made up in an AI rendering, but damn, it was an enjoyable watch anyway. I’ve even subscribed to her channel. Have a look and see what you think.

A funny thing happened as I finished this post:

A little too close to home for me these days.
The third world ain’t so bad in my experience.
That bird has flown.

Had enough? So have I. Let’s try again tomorrow.

Hazy lazy daze

“Age has no reality except in the physical world. The essence of a human being is resistant to the passage of time. Our inner lives are eternal, which is to say that our spirits remain as youthful and vigorous as when we were in full bloom. Think of love as a state of grace, not the means to anything, but the alpha and omega. An end in itself.” 
― Gabriel García Márquez, Love in the Time of Cholera

I still want that chance for a do-over life!
By golly, I got 20 outta 20. What do I win? Ah, only the memories.

Some days just don’t amount to much, even by my low standards. Throw in some inclement weather, and you have a good excuse for being lazy. Swan had some errands to attend to in Olongapo, so she couldn’t join me for a Thursday walk. I could have done a boring solo street walk again, but instead, I said “fuck it” and did nothing. So yeah, that’s how I didn’t roll.

The Lord, being a loving God, paused the rain at beer o’clock, facilitating an umbrella-free walk into town.

We spent a couple of mostly pleasant hours at Red Bar with our hostess, Ashley.

Then we moved on to Cheap Charlies for a change of scenery and some dinner from Foodies.

The Cheap Charlies view before the rain resumed.

The rain forced us to move from our street-view perch to a stool at the bar. I haven’t sat there since the last time the skies opened up their wrath.

So, I only had the bar crew to look at. Actually, we enjoyed watching the music videos as we ate.

And then we headed back downstairs and hailed a trike to take us home in the pouring rain. And that’s all there was to the day.

Facebook memories are the closest thing I’ve found to time travel:

In 1972, I was 17 and attending the high school prom with my sweetheart, Karen.
In 1985, I was 30 and rocking it at my parents’ farm in Monroe, Oklahoma.

From the August 2019 LTG archives, it is my 64th birthday, and there’s no one who needs me and no one to feed me. But I was healthy and active and still making the best of my time here on Earth. And of course, there was a Swan to come in my future.

My first-ever Hashy birthday cake.

Today’s YouTube video is from a vlogger who is lovin’ life in the Philippines with only his monthly Social Security for income. Apparently, he moved from San Diego, where he lived in a van. He made a good point in comparing those who live in poverty here to the poverty he witnessed back home. I live large on my government pension, but I noticed the video showed a walking view of Alona Beach in Panglao, Bohol, which made it worth watching for me.

The jokes are falling like the rain:

So, your vegan girlfriend sucks?

There’s an old priest who got sick of all the people in his parish who kept confessing to adultery. One Sunday, in the pulpit, he said, “If I hear one more person confess to adultery, I’ll quit!”

Well, everyone liked him, so they came up with a code word. Someone who had committed adultery would say they had “fallen.”

This seemed to satisfy the old priest and things went well, until the priest died at a ripe old age. About a week after the new priest arrived, he visited the mayor of the town and seemed very concerned.

The priest said, “You have to do something about the sidewalks in town. When people come into the confessional, they keep talking about having fallen.”

The mayor started to laugh, realizing that no one had told the new priest about the code word.

Before the mayor could explain, the priest shook an accusing finger at the mayor and said, “I don’t know what you’re laughing about; your wife fell three times this week.”

FAFO.

That’s a ballsy thing to ask.

Yep, still raining, but it didn’t stop me today. I’m just gonna keep on keepin’ on and be glad for it. Better wet than dead!

Scouting around

It doesn’t matter what day it is these days. Until it is the last day.

It’s been a day without power thus far, and the battery on my laptop is about ready to say fuck this shit. So, let’s see if I can make it to the end of this post before it dies.

Once again, nobody was up for a Wednesday Walkers outing. Not surprising, really, given the weather forecast for more rain. But almost miraculously, there was a break in the storm about leaving time, so Swan and I took advantage of the opportunity to get out and do some scouting. Yep, Swan and a couple of her Hash Gash buddies are the Hares for next week’s trail. They have a general idea of what they want to do, so Swan and I gave that route a try.

The wet feet thing happened as soon as we exited Alta Vista. Oh, well.

I kept my phone in my pocket for most of the walk. Nothing really to see that hasn’t been seen before, and honestly, unless it is raining on Monday, the trail we walked will be a tad too boring, even for the cripples. I offered a couple of suggestions to spice it up some, so we’ll see what the gals decide.

I did have a come-to-Jesus moment during the hike.
And Mother Mary was there too.

Anyway, our On-Home next week is at Kim’s Place on Baloy Beach. The plan is to go through Matain and then cross the river to Baloy via a banca boat. If yesterday was any indication, that might pose a problem.

The recent rains, combined with high tide, made the river pretty much uncrossable. Well, the boat driver said he could get us to the other side, and we could wade from there. No thanks!

And then it started raining again, so we grabbed a trike for home.

The path we walked was just shy of 6K, but mostly flat and paved. We’ll see if the gals decide to spice it up some.

Then, as further proof that God loves beer too, it stopped raining again when it was time to head into town.

We kicked things off at It Doesn’t Matter. A couple of Swan’s friends were there, so she had some female company. As usual, I drank alone.

Then Swan asked if she could get her birria fix. Welp, Myleen’s is practically right next door, so why not?

One of Swan’s tacos with her lemon enhancement.
I had a chicken quesadilla, which was a little disappointing.

We did our nightcap at Wet Spot, then headed home via trike in light rain. At least there was no flooding last night.

From the August 2019 LTG archives is a post mostly about my hiking day entitled “Ranger danger.” What I found interesting is that only seven years ago, I was bushwhacking my way up into the hills all by my lonesome in search of new paths. Shit, I don’t have the balls to even think about doing that these days. Well, like I’ve said, turning 70 was a milestone, and I’m no longer the man I once was.

I’m in a race against a dying battery, so no time to search for something more interesting for the daily YouTube video. I hope a look around Subic and Olongapo will suffice for those who have some curiosity about what things are like around these parts.

Let’s get the humor out of the way:

And everyone asks him why he is single.
Stop, you’re killing me!
He’s screwed either way.

WooHoo! I made it!

I sure as hell hope power is restored before it is time to head into town for tonight’s adventure. We shall see.

Nothing can be different

Oh, well. At least it helps you forget your problems.

Tuesdays are my most blah day of the week. A rainy Tuesday only makes it worse. But still, there are always ways to add a little spice and make it seem a little different than normal.

When there is nothing of interest to say about the grocery shopping experience, that’s a good thing. But it is easy for an old man with diminishing brain capacity to fuck that up. At least I remembered to bring my credit card with me this week. But when it came time to pay my 8900 peso bill at the YBC supermarket, my card was rejected. Twice. Luckily, I had enough cash in my wallet to avoid additional embarrassment. Back in the car, I tried to open my credit union app on the phone, but couldn’t get a connection. Oops, my data network was turned off. Then I opened the app, checked my credit card, and sure enough, I had neglected to unlock it (I keep it locked after having been scammed recently). I unlocked the card, and it worked just fine at Royal. I create problems, and then I solve them. Good stuff, eh?

Next up was my weekly visit to Dr. Jo for an Ozempic injection. I only lost one pound last week, but at least I’m moving in the right direction.

I rarely cook these days. Why should I when Swan serves up a lunch like this for me?

Like a miracle, the rain stopped just before beer o’clock, and we hoofed it into town without the need for umbrellas. Kicked off our evening at Sloppy Joe’s.

Cheers, baby!

Two of my favorites at Alaska Club (right next door to Sloppy’s) walked past on their way to work and couldn’t be bothered to respond to my greeting. Not even a nod or a smile. Even Swan found their behavior rude. Oh, well. It’s good when people show you who they are. I scratched off my plan to make Alaska our next stop.

And then the rain started coming down in buckets. And didn’t stop. We extended our stay at Sloppy Joe’s, waiting for the break in the storm that never came. Now what? Well, we had umbrellas, but I knew the highway would be flooded, so walking would be wading. Then I remembered the bar upstairs from us, Tryst, had recently reopened. We decided to give it a try.

We were the only customers, which I suppose isn’t unusual since we are early birds (it was only 7 pm) and it was pouring rain. Four gals were working, and they seemed genuinely happy to see us. Only two dancers, but damn, they put some effort into it. That’s something you rarely see in the bars these days.

There’s that spice I mentioned. The one in red was our waitress, and the other two kept that booty shakin’ throughout our visit.

I bought them all a lady drink and handed out cookies and lollipops. They were happy and thanked us profusely. I hope Tryst makes it, but I have my doubts. More bars than customers in Barretto these days, but you never know.

When it was time to head home, there were no trikes at the trike stand, so we had to wait. Finally, one pulled up to drop someone off, and we were able to catch a ride. As I predicted, the highway was indeed flooded:

I guess there is no fix, because this happens every time there is a heavy rainfall.
And it continued raining throughout the night, so I wouldn’t be surprised if the water rose high enough to flood those roadside businesses.
‘Tis the season!

Well, at least I won’t be complaining about the heat for a while.

From the August 2019 LTG archives is another chapter in the “one lifetime, many lives” series. This one was about my life as a letter carrier with the United States Postal Service. It was good while it lasted and led to bigger things.

Today’s YouTube video lists 10 countries where expats don’t live in fear of crime. Spoiler alert: The Philippines isn’t among them. That said, I feel perfectly safe walking in my little town of Barretto. I wouldn’t feel that way in Manila.

You are never safe from my jokes:

I’m so dumb, I didn’t even know they had dollar coins.

A husband and wife had four boys. The odd part of it was that the older three had red hair, light skin, and were tall, while the youngest son had black hair, dark eyes, and was short.

The father eventually took ill and was lying on his deathbed when he turned to his wife and said, “Honey, before I die, be totally honest with me – is our youngest son my child?”

The wife replied, “I swear on everything that’s holy that he is your son.”

With that, the husband passed away. The wife then muttered, “Thank God he didn’t ask about the other three.”

Will the next one be his?

What is she going to do with the wood? It would be a lot more fun for them both if his penis grew with every lie…

Anyway, that’s the best I can do for today. I may be walking in the rain this evening, but hopefully I’ll be able to get to a bar while my feet are dry. That beer ain’t gonna drink itself, you know.

Pulling in the rains

Into each life some rain must fall.

My original plan was to walk to the start of the Hash trail by taking the path I call My Bitch and then coming down “the tires” behind Columban College. Except it never stopped raining, and I knew that steep descent, which is tough when it is dry, would be treacherous when wet. So, discretion being the better part of valor and all, I opted to do my own street trail.

My fellow Hashers, as we headed out. The AI rendering up top, courtesy of Scott, is much more entertaining.
And we are On-On!
And lo and behold, we crossed paths with the official Hash trail near its end. So, let’s just say we took a shortcut.
We didn’t get scalped in the Geronimo neighborhood.
The walls were closing in.
More evidence that we did a portion of the Hash trail.
The Hare, Leech My Nuggets, waiting outside the On-Home venue for someone to arrive.

Turns out, we only had 16 Hashers show up yesterday, the smallest turnout since I’ve been Hashing in Subic. And only one person actually did the trail from beginning to end. Sorry for the wasted effort, Leech.

My rainy-day trail came in at just under 4K.
Hanging out before the Circle commences.
Circle up!
It’s nice on ice.
Pubic Head and his gal Pubic Face paying the penalty for being socialites.
Cums Alone got this week’s Hashit.

So, that was the first rainy day Hash of the season. More to come in the months ahead, that’s for sure.

The usual after-Hash hangout at It Doesn’t Matter, only smaller. Then we called it a day and headed back home, glad to be alive.

From the July 2019 LTG archives is this post showing the darker side of my nightlife in Barretto. Now, I’ve never been a hardcore whore monger like many of my fellow expats, but there was a time when I’d occasionally partake in what the bargirls offered. I’m glad that those days are behind me now and that I’ve found a good woman to see me through this final chapter of my life.

Today’s YouTube video takes me back to the first time I experienced being in the 70s. I was one of the biggest potheads around back then, but I got stoned and still didn’t miss it. In fact, I’d say the weed enhanced the experience. I’ve mellowed into being a beer-drinking fool in this iteration of my 70s. Oh, shit, it’s age-restricted. Just click the link to watch.

Can I blame my twisted sense of humor on all that grass I smoked?

I was never a pinball wizard, but I played the silver ball. I can’t remember the last time I’ve seen those machines that used to be so ubiquitous.

Three men were standing in line to get into heaven one day. Apparently it had been a pretty busy day, though, so St. Peter had to tell the first one, “Heaven’s getting pretty close to full today, and I’ve been asked to admit only people who have had particularly horrible deaths. So what’s your story?”

The first man replies: “Well, for a while I’ve suspected my wife has been cheating on me, so today I came home early to try to catch her red-handed. As I came into my 25th floor apartment, I could tell something was wrong, but all my searching around didn’t reveal where this other guy could have been hiding. Finally, I went out to the balcony, and sure enough, there was this man hanging off the railing, 25 floors above ground! By now I was really mad, so I started beating on him and kicking him, but wouldn’t you know it, he wouldn’t fall off. So finally I went back into my apartment and got a hammer and starting hammering on his fingers. Of course, he couldn’t stand that for long, so he let go and fell-but even after 25 stories, he fell into the bushes, stunned but okay. I couldn’t stand it anymore, so I ran into the kitchen, grabbed the fridge, and threw it over the edge where it landed on him, killing him instantly. But all the stress and anger got to me, and I had a heart attack and died there on the balcony.”

“That sounds like a pretty bad day to me,” said Peter, and let the man in.

The second man comes up and Peter explains to him about heaven being full, and again asks for his story.

“It’s been a very strange day. You see, I live on the 26th floor of my apartment building, and every morning I do my exercises out on my balcony. Well, this morning I must have slipped or something, because I fell over the edge. But I got lucky, and caught the railing of the balcony on the floor below me. I knew I couldn’t hang on for very long, when suddenly this man burst out onto the balcony. I thought for sure I was saved, when he started beating on me and kicking me. I held on the best I could until he ran into the apartment and grabbed a hammer and started pounding on my hands. Finally I just let go, but again I got lucky and fell into the bushes below, stunned but all right. Just when I was thinking I was going to be okay, this refrigerator comes falling out of the sky and crushes me instantly, and now I’m here.”

Once again, Peter had to concede that that sounded like a pretty horrible death.

The third man came to the front of the line, and again the whole process was repeated. Peter explained that heaven was full and asked for his story.

“Picture this,” says the third man, “I’m hiding naked inside a refrigerator…”

I guess he didn’t see that one coming.

Not to be a dick about it, but…

The skies are clear this afternoon, so there’s that. We’ll see what happens next.

The roads I took

A classic poem that I often think about. It’s why I want that “do-over life” so I can see where those paths I didn’t take lead.

I have no complaints about where my road of life has taken me. But getting here certainly wasn’t what I expected. It’s been a rough and sometimes painful ride, but I don’t regret making the journey. Yeah, I could have done things differently, but who knows where that might have led me. So, I guess when I think about do-overs, I should keep in mind about being careful what you wish for.

Thinking back just now about some of those divergent paths Frost mentions, three important events come to mind. The first being the decision not to give my firstborn daughter up for adoption. Of course, I knew that would be a life changer, and it was, in a positive way. Then there was the night I was destined to meet the love of my life, KaraLynne Pope. A seemingly insignificant decision led to a life I would never have envisioned. Of course, the love ended in tragedy for me (don’t they all?), but everything I was to become flowed from that event. And of course, there was the decision I made to leave my American life behind and move to Korea. Nothing has ever been the same after that.

I have fewer roads to choose from here in the final chapter of my life, but I have been blessed with all the experiences that came with the paths I chose to travel. *sigh*

Meanwhile, back here in the present, let me share the events that filled my hours yesterday.

A blooming tree I enjoyed on the morning dog walk.

Then it was time for our Sunday Sweets Stroll. And yes, I decided to do the photo every 1000 steps thing again. I figured I should document the route because I’m planning to change things up going forward.

Leaving home.
1000 steps: Leaving Alta Vista for our first neighborhood.
2000 steps: Where Baloy Road meets the National Highway.
3000 steps: Back on the National Highway after finishing the second neighborhood on our journey.
4000 steps: Delivering sweetness to some of our regulars on the Govic Bypass Road.
5000 steps: On the backstreets of Matain.
6000 steps: Arriving at the next ‘hood.
6000 steps bonus shot: The kids in the ‘hood.
7000 steps: Passing through Barangay San Lorenzo.
Mission accomplished.
I plan to do bits and pieces of this walk incorporated into different routes in the future. Gotta keep things fresh sometimes.

For our Sunday evening fun, we kicked things off at the Outback Resort poolside bar. I’d never seen the place so packed. The pool was full of kids being loud and happy, which is good for them but not so enjoyable for us. So, I suggested we take our drinks and sit at the Outback open-air restaurant, where we shared some fish and chips. After we ate, we moved inside the Outback Billabong bar to enjoy some aircon. When Swan finally finished her glass of wine (same glass in all three stops), we headed up the highway and, after some back-and-forth discussion, decided to finish things off at Wet Spot. The big news is that the bar next door that used to be Green Room will be reopening in a matter of days.

Except it is not going to be Green Room anymore. The bar will revert to its former name of The Jungle. Well, it used to be Rum Jungle, but I understand they are dropping the “Rum.” Also, when I stepped outside to see that new signage, it ain’t there. That’s an AI rendering in the photo above. I hate that bullshit.

Anyway, we made it home safe and sound, and I awoke to another day.

No surprise that the Philippines made the list. I’ve crossed streets in the top three and agree with the rankings. Getting killed on the National Highway is high on my list of ways I might die here.

Facebook memories carried me back ten years to my working life.

It’s still the people that I miss, not the work.

Moving on to the July 2019 LTG archives, I write about a new charity project–a single mother with five kids and no sponsor. I figured helping her directly was more beneficial than giving money to an orphanage that may have had legitimacy issues. Yeah, I was still pretty naive about things at this stage of my residency. The teenage daughter I considered sponsoring for college wound up pregnant before finishing high school. I don’t recall why or when I ended support for this family, but I’ve found others to help since then that are more worthy. My current projects include a college student (yes, a girl I briefly dated), a cancer patient, and a widowed mother. It’s not a lot, but every little bit helps.

Today’s YouTube video is a nighttime stroll down Alona Beach in Panglao, Bohol. Been there, done that, wanna go back again. The video does a good job capturing the magic of the place. Even got a glimpse of my favorite hangout, Escape Bar. Maybe I’ll live there in a do-over life.

Here we go again:

As perverted as I might be, I’ve never found the swinging scene attractive.
Like father, like son.
That’s my style!

Here it is, another Hash Monday, and right on schedule, rainy season has arrived. Thunderstorms through the night, and it’s been raining all morning. It doesn’t bode well for a tough Leech My Nuggets trail. I’m just gonna play it by ear and see what happens.

Scott (Pubic Head) is becoming an AI master. Thanks for this rendition!

You already knew this, but it bears repeating:

The Decay continues

Well, that’s kinda what I’m doing, in my own meaningless way. It never feels like my life is wasted, even when I am.

Just another boring “day in the life” story to share today. But it doesn’t feel boring living it. Going on nine years here now, so nothing seems new when I’m out and about. Hell, I’m hardly ever inspired to take a photo by something I see on my walks, because I’ve pretty much seen it all before. So, for yesterday’s Decay Dance, I decided to invoke the one picture every 1000 steps scheme. Here’s how that worked out:

Heading out from our Bryce Street cul-de-sac.
1000 steps: that old tree is still standing. Which of us is going to fall first?
2000 steps: Leaving Marian Hills.
3000 steps: Come and get your candy! Those teeth aren’t going to decay on their own!
4000 steps: Delivering sweetness at a local food stand.
5000 steps: There’s something fishy going on here.
6000 steps: In the littered shadow of Easter Mountain.
7000 steps: Heading down Sawmill Road.
8000 steps: At the San Isidro Elementary School.
9000 steps: Fences won’t stop us from fulfilling our mission.
And here’s where this week’s Decay Dance concluded.

We did change things up a tad for our Saturday evening enjoyment by heading out to Treasure Island on Baloy Beach to hear some live music.

We arrived just before the Engine Band began their first set of the evening at 4:30. Most live music in town doesn’t start until 9 pm, which is past my bedtime these days.

I recorded a song so you could hear for yourself how the Engine sounds:

After an hour, Engine took a break and the second band, Star Network, took to the stage.

I think Star Network was missing their female lead singer, because the guitar player did a lot more singing than usual.
That’s where we sat for the show.
The beach out front…
The Subic Bay devoid of the floating bar.
Hard to see a good sunset from the beach.

We stayed through the second set of the Engine Band, then walked back up the road to Snackbar for our nightcap.

That’s the view from our outside table at Snackbar.

And that’s how we danced and rocked our way through another day.

From the June 2019 LTG archives, I share my thoughts on living an American life in the Philippines. Yep, all these years later, I still haven’t embraced Filipino culture and lifestyle, but I’m at least participating on occasion. I have a Filipino family living in my basement apartment these days (Swan’s niece is our new helper), so I’m closer than I was anyway.

Sticking with the cultural theme, here’s a hilarious YouTube video I first posted thirteen years ago. It’s only two minutes long, and it will make you laugh. Promise.

I can’t top that video, but I’ll try anyway:

I’ve got that sinking feeling. Maybe I’ll go to a dive bar tonight.
I see what you did there.
It’s what any gentleman would do.

That’s just about enough for one day, don’t you think? I’ll try again tomorrow.

Oh, and this is the last day of May! I came across this old favorite of mine and really enjoyed hearing it again after all these years.

Miles to go

Most men and women lead lives at the worst so painful, at the best so monotonous, poor and limited that the urge to escape, the longing to transcend themselves if only for a few moments, is and has always been one of the principal appetites of the soul.”
–Aldous Huxley

I came across the above quotation during my ongoing perusal of the LTG archives. In the past, it resonated as I felt trapped in my routines. These days, I take comfort in the sameness and hope that I can keep doing what I do well into the future. I think the different outlook can be attributed to growing older and having fewer options. The less you can do, the less you are missing out on. Funny how that works.

And I’m blessed to be here.

So, once again, no one chose to participate in the Friday group hike, so I was on my own. I suspect the ongoing heat wave may be a factor in the unwillingness to hit the road, but I’d rather be hot and miserable than bored and miserable. In deference to the temperature, I opted for the relatively flat and easy Philseco loop walk.

That would be the Philseco Road where my journey began. I decided to take a photo every mile along the way, so I’d have something to share here.
Mile One found me passing the St. Mary Homes subdivision.
This is where I exited Philseco Road.
And here’s a shot of my favorite tree.
A peaceful passage by the fish ponds.
Mile Two found me making a river crossing.
At Mile Three, I was walking towards the light.
Back on the National Highway, and at this point, I decided I’d had enough fun in the sun for one day, so I caught a trike for home.
Just a tad over 5K from end-to-end.

Then at beer o’clock, I headed back out. First stop was getting my ears lowered at the barber shop. After getting clipped for 100 pesos, plus a 50 peso tip, it was time to satiate my beer appetite. Conveniently located across the highway was Red Bar, where Swan awaited my joining her.

The “backslappers” table was full, drunk, and loud. And you thought I only complained about music!

We still enjoyed our time outside on the patio. Even ordered a big pizza to share with the girls. When it was time for our nightcap, we headed a block up the highway to Jumpin’ Jacks.

I played a decent game of pool, but lost anyway.

Since we were the only customers on a Friday evening (it was still early, the live music didn’t start until 9), I splurged and bought a round of lady drinks for all the girls. Yeah, once in a blue moon, I’ll pretend I’m a two-week millionaire. A pleasant visit as usual, but the clock chimed 8 pm (the clock in my head, I mean), and we paid our tab and headed for home.

Yep, successfully rolled through another day in paradise. It never gets old!

Another old photo of my mom and dad popped up in Facebook Memories today:

I must have good genes.

From the June 2019 LTG archives is a post in which I reflect on the meaninglessness of my life and look back through the years at the various times and places where emptiness abounded. Which triggered me to recall one of my favorite Earnest Hemingway stories, “A Clean Well-Lighted Place.” It’s kind of funny how that study of drinkers I shared yesterday had a Hemingway category, which is a good fit for how beer impacts my personality. And as I mentioned earlier, I’ve reached a point where the life I’m living “satisfices.” It was a long road getting here.

And today’s YouTube video is a reading of “A Clean Well-Lighted Place.” Less than ten minutes long and well worth the time. Or if you are old-school, you can read it yourself here.

Time for the shit that makes you smile:

Just be glad she didn’t date Ron Jeremy.
Joe Biden is having a stroke. Yeah, I went there…
It might lead to an arresting development. Or maybe she’d just confiscate your “weapon.”

And so it goes.

Here’s one from the wayback machine that I’ve not heard in this century.

Walking to WalterMart

So many of you fell for it!

I guess it says a lot about nothing when the highlight of your day is taking a 7K stroll to the Subic WalterMart store. Swan was along for the trek, so there was that. There wasn’t much of anything new or interesting to see on our backstreet route, so not many pictures either. Here’s what I’ve got to share:

The ass-side of Easter Mountain.
The Shit River.
A jewel amongst the slums.
Crossing to the other side. It’s raining sunshine, hence the umbrella.
That’s the way we got it done.

When the evening hours rolled around, it didn’t get much more exciting. But excitement is overrated. We had an enjoyable time at It Doesn’t Matter, topped off with a delivery of birria tacos from Myleen’s. Then we had a pleasant nightcap at Wet Spot to bring our Thursday to a close.

See, I told you nothing can be good enough for me!

In other news, I’m reading more and more concerning information about potential negative side effects that come with using GLP-1 drugs like Ozempic. Althouse links to a Washington Post article that includes this:

On social media and at doctor’s offices, some users have reported a type of brain fog and others something broader and harder to define: a strange emotional flattening. People describe less pleasure, less motivation, diminished interest in hobbies and even reduced sexual desire. Those accounts are beginning to raise deeper questions about what, exactly, these drugs are changing. If GLP-1s alter the brain systems involved in reward, craving and motivation, researchers wonder, where is the line between quieting a person’s destructive impulses and reshaping personality itself?

Of course, in my case, emotional flattening might be a benefit.

And then there was this post about the GLP-1s destroying balance and sensory systems:

We must confront the most severe pharmacological threat to the vestibular system in a generation. We face an undeniable clinical crisis, supported by 496,756 patient records. This study confirms that the widespread use of GLP-1 receptor agonists (GLP-1RAs)—Ozempic (Semaglutide), Mounjaro (Tirzepatide), and related drugs such as Wegovy—is a direct driver of organ destruction and systemic microvascular failure. We consider a catastrophe spanning the inner ear (the cochlea) and the retinal macula.

That’s admittedly pretty scary-sounding, and I do sometimes encounter moments of lightheadedness. Then again, I’m elderly, so that comes with the turf. I won’t be surprised if I become that cliche, “Help! I’ve fallen, and I can’t get up!”

But just to keep things in perspective, this article talks about hidden GLP-1 benefits that improve heart, liver, kidney, and other organ functions. That’s what I’m hoping for!

Anyway, my plan is to reach my weight goal, which will take six more months at my current rate of loss, and then quit the drug and replace it with self-discipline in my eating habits. If that doesn’t work out for me, I want to test the microdosing theory I’ve read about. That’s both cheaper and potentially less damaging. We shall see what the future brings.

Okay, enough of substance! That’s not what people come to LTG for.

More and more, I’m finding stuff in the LTG archives I’d totally forgotten about. Like this post from June 2019 about an incident at Alley Cats bar that almost resulted in fisticuffs. Patrick is still around, although he isn’t aging well and recently had a stroke. Still smoking and drinking, but I haven’t sensed any bad blood between us. Since I’m re-retired from darts now, I likely won’t run into him again.

Coincidentally, today’s YouTube video discusses the impact that drinking has on personalities. I’m happy to report that I’m in the “Hemingway” group, which basically means that I don’t change much when I’m drunk. But yeah, I’ve seen others transform from quiet and reserved to loud and aggressive when they drink. Anyway, it was an interesting watch and based on scientific studies, so good to know.

Try these on for size:

You should move to the Philippines! You can drive all the girls you can afford!
Mix or match?
Don’t meth around, why do you think they call it dope?

And that’s it for this time. I’m just gonna keep plugging away and see what happens next.

In the comments to the post about my first visit to the Itaewon Grand Ole Opry bar that I wrote back in 2005, my father said, “Don’t you remember the song, Hugging and Chalking? Also, ‘comfortable’ girls are like older women…they make beautiful lovers.” Well, the song was from 1947, so I didn’t remember it, but I’ll always remember it now. Thanks, Dad!