Triple treat

Or triple threat. Either way, I successfully completed my third climb to the top of Eastern Mountain this week, and we now have a marked trail for this afternoon’s Hash.

My fellow Hares, Bug Fucker, and Blow My Pipe
That’s Alta Vista on that distant hillside.
The arrow points to the high point on Black Rock Ridge that the hard trail will climb after Easter Mountain. That valley to the right is where the “easy” trail avoids the second climb.
About halfway up the mountain, I came across these boots. Makes you wonder what the story behind their abandonment might be. They’d have to be pretty damn uncomfortable to prefer to go barefoot…
We marked the trail as best as we were able, hope that’s good enough. Honestly, I’m not happy with the down off Easter Mountain, but it will have to do this time.
Between the peaks
There is a second climb on the “easy” trail, up these steps to a rendezvous with the hard trail on the other side of Black Rock.
Today’s On-Home venue is Smokes and Bottles.
Something is going on with my GPS or map app; we didn’t get lost today. The trail is around 6K.

I’m going to walk out to the start from my house this afternoon to give the pre-trail briefing to the Hashers. Then I’ll walk the roads to Smokes and Bottles and wait for everyone there.

Yesterday’s Easter dinner with Mary went well, even if she was a little late. I don’t much care for “Filipina time” culture here, but in this case, she had a valid excuse…traffic has been practically gridlocked all weekend. Old timers here have never seen anything like it before.

Baby back ribs in the crockpot
And on the platter. They were falling off the bone tender and quite tasty, if I do say so myself.
I served them with corn on the cob…
And broccoli florets
With cornbread
And some Sweet Baby Ray’s
With carrot cake for dessert

It was a nice meal, and afterward, we took a nap which was also nice. We spent a couple of hours at Sloppy Joe’s, watching the insane traffic and crazier drivers on the highway. There is no traffic law enforcement, and people take full advantage of that. Oh, well. I’m just a guest in this country. Glad I don’t drive!

Okay, time to head out to perform my Hare responsibilities. Back with more tomorrow.

What’s the story?

I mean, every picture tells one, right? On my morning walk yesterday, I encountered this on the pavement as I exited Alta Vista:

I hope the story had a happy ending

Coincidentally, my younger brother posted this on his Facebook page today:

I don’t think I want to know

Anyway, here are some visual aids to supplement the story of my Saturday.

The lonely path I walked on my morning jaunt
A peaceful cabin in the woods or solitary confinement?
The dominant presence in my life this week. See you tomorrow, bitch!
Beauty is in the eye of the beer holder.
As I walked out in the streets of San Isidro, as I walked out in San Isidro one day…
The marketplace in Santo Tomas
River trash
Grub stop
A chicken burrito hits the spot

My evening started at an old haunt I hadn’t visited for a couple of months or more–Alley Cats. There’s not much reason to go there if you aren’t playing darts, but I popped in anyway. Nice to see my waitress friends Jerlyn and Nancy and share some drinks. Then I had a beer at Sloppy Joe’s while I figured out my next move. Originally, I had intended to do a feeding at Hideaway since they won’t be open on Easter. But Joy wasn’t working, so there was not much point. I knew Joy wanted to take her kids out for an Easter beach excursion, but she lacked the funds to do so. I figured I’d give her the money I would have spent on the feeding and make her day. We agreed to meet at the Jewel Cafe for some food and cash exchange.

Joy had a shrimp dish…
And I went with the Philly cheesesteak sandwich.

We parted ways after the meal, and I found myself at It Doesn’t Matter.

After a bit, Scott, Chris, and Dave showed up. They had been golfing in San Antonio, and the return trip (usually less than an hour) had taken them four. Yep, the traffic was that bad. Bumper to bumper all the way and gridlocked in places.
And here’s a picture of Barretto Beach yesterday. I have NEVER seen it anywhere near this crowded in all the years I’ve visited and lived here. Apparently, Baloy Beach was just as bad or worse.

I did my nightcap at Wet Spot last night, enjoying the company of Aine and Daddy Dave. Dave lives on Baloy, and he said this is the busiest it has been in over 18 years of residence. Took him 45 minutes to drive the two kilometers to the highway.

I bought some meat the other day from a friend who is selling to clients via Facebook.

Baby back ribs “made in Spain”–that’s a first for me. I’ve got them in the crockpot right now. We’ll see if they come out with a Spanish accent.
I also bought these ribeye steaks. Forty-four bucks for those skinny ass things. We’ll see how they taste, but I expect to be disappointed. They are marinating now.

We marked the Black Rock Ridge portion of tomorrow’s Hash trail this morning. We will mark the Easter mountain section in the morning.

That’s the Black Rock Ridge, as seen from Alta Vista.
The hard and easy trails split in the Divine Mercy cemetery.
Ken was there to help spread the powder and draw the arrows
Yep, I’ll be back for you tomorrow!
San Isidro in all her glory, such as it is.
Barretto by the bay
The valley where I will mark the “easy” trail after the Easter mountain climb.
It’s actually pretty nice up here, and truthfully, getting up wasn’t as bad as I expected it to be.
I find the going down part more difficult and more dangerous
This was the worst of it this morning, and we all survived. Let’s hope the Hashers make it down safely too.

And that brings you up to the minute. Mary is supposed to join me this afternoon to share in my Easter baby back ribs bounty. I’d best get busy on the corn muffins and side dishes. Back tomorrow with a full report!

A good Friday

As good as any and better than some. And I’ve got the pictures to prove it (lots of them!).

I started the morning with day 3 of scouting Monday’s Hash trail. This time we did the Black Rock Ridge, which will constitute the second climb (after Easter Mountain) for the hard trail. The “easy” trail will go through the valley that runs parallel to the ridge and rejoin the hard trail on the other side. We walked it backward yesterday, so all the ups will be downs on Monday and vice versa. We’ll go back out in the morning to lay down the powder and chalk markings.

Scott joined Jim and me for the flat portion of the trail…his ankle wasn’t quite ready for the ups and downs of the Black Rock Ridge.
The beginning of the end had us going up a long set of steps. Come Monday, we’ll be going down this way to finish the trail.
And the leaves that are green turn to brown
Scott bailed, and me and Jim headed to Black Rock. We met up with Scott again on the other side.
“That’s what is known as a tree, Jim. They grow all over these parts.”
Where the name “Black Rock” comes from.
The most challenging part of yesterday’s climb, practically straight up, requires hands and feet. I’m dreading coming down it tomorrow when we mark the trail.
A nice view from there though
Pushing on to the highest point on the ridgeline
Looking back down from here at Calapcuan
Had to navigate through some tall grass in this section
And here’s where everything will start on Monday, a climb to the top of Easter Mountain.
And now to find our way down. We did, but I didn’t like it. I have to come back up to mark it in the morning, but I don’t expect I’ll voluntarily do this trail in the future.
Reuniting with Scott in the graveyard. That sounds a little morbid, but that’s the way it happened.
Through the flat valley on the “easy” trail
Lollipops for her
And cookies for them
Some more of those Good Friday backslappers
“The beatings will continue until morale improves!”
Back on the National Highway
The great escape
Hung out to dry
Down the drain

That filled the morning hours. When beer o’clock rolled around, I decided to make Cheap Charlies my first stop of the night.

A flowering bush as I departed Alta Vista
I brought along a batch of brownies for the girls to enjoy. Here’s Alma dividing them up.

Alma and Nerissa were my drinking companions, and a bit later, Jim also showed up. And then a parade broke out on the highway below us. It looked like this:

In the beginning…
Jesus Christ standing tall and proud at the head of the parade
The King of Kings
Nice ass you got there, Jesus!
Hope floats
Victim of love?
That’s quite a cross to bear
Nailed it!
When I find myself in times of trouble, Mother Mary comes to me…
Let it be
Waiting to be resurrected
I don’t want to be a doubting Thomas, but can these guys really help?
Let the Son shine in
Don’t worry, mama; the Son shall rise again…just give it a couple of days.
And finally, the parade has come to an end.
But the evening has just begun!
Next stop, Sloppy Joe’s!

I started feeling hungry. Thumbstar has a Friday night special where everything is two for the price of one, including food. So, I did the math and decided two shwarmas and two beers to wash them down sounds about right.

Shwarma was tasty and hit the spot.

However, my math calculation proved to be erroneous because I failed to consider the “Ashley factor.”

It seems beer impairs my ability to say “.no”
And then, I compounded my error by purchasing additional “two for one” items off the menu to share with the dancers.

So, my cheap meal wound up costing me around 1000 pesos. Oh, well.

I decided to make Whiskey Girl my nightcap bar. When I arrived and took my seat, Jenn came by to take my order. She declined when I offered her a drink because she was with another customer. Okay, well, at least I saved some money on lady drinks!

I went home early and alone as usual, but that’s just the way I roll these days. Most likely, more of the same is in store for tonight. What a life, eh?

Holy Hell!

Holy week here in the Philippines is a really big deal. Even after all these years of living and visiting, it’s still shocking. Traffic on the highway was bumper-to-bumper most of the day yesterday, and the hotels and beaches are packed with people for the long holiday weekend.

I remember my first-ever visit to the PI back in 2007. After I landed in Cebu City and arrived at my hotel, I noticed that many stores and businesses were closed. I asked what was happening and was told, “It’s Maundy Thursday, sir.” Well, despite being raised in the church (Pentecostal), I had to look it up. I guess it’s more of a Catholic thing, but it is a national holiday here in the PI.

One of the local traditions on Good Friday in this area is people climbing to the top of Easter Mountain to watch the sunrise. Yeah, that means climbing that mother fucker in the dark. I guess they have faith that God will guide their footsteps and keep them safe. I’m acquainted with a few folks who made that trek today, and I’ve got some of their photographs to share:

Cielo conquers the mountain while the lights of the city shine brightly in the night.
Here comes the sun
Breakfast on the mountaintop
They came, they saw, they conquered. Well done, ladies!

Another tradition for Good Friday is self-flagellation. I must have seen a dozen or more guys walking down the road slapping their backs with a whip-like device.

While trying to take this picture, I kept getting splashed with blood. One of my fellow hikers assured me it wasn’t real blood; it was all for show. Well, it looked real enough to gross me out, that’s for sure.

Anyway, it’s just another weekend for me, although I guess some of the bars might not be open on Easter, including Hideaway. Also, there will not be an SOB competition tonight. I’m sure I’ll find plenty of available venues so as to avoid dehydration, though.

Here’s how I celebrated Maundy Thursday this year. I did a solo 8K valley walk, then had an early lunch at Sit-n-Bull.

That’s the only picture I took on the hike.
The half of my club sandwich I couldn’t finish so brought home for my helper to enjoy.

As is becoming my Thursday evening tradition, I walked out to Baloy Beach to enjoy some time on the floating bar.

What’s not to like?
Lots of people in the water enjoying a late afternoon swim
Cliff and his lovely wife Ashley from IDM bar were on board; she took this picture and shared it on Facebook
Someone played “I can make your hands clap,” and all the waitresses got up to dance. Filipinas really love that song for some reason
I had baked up a batch of brownies to share with the girls. They seemed to enjoy them.
And I met a new girl yesterday, Jelly. A little long in the tooth at 42, but she seems nice and sweet. Welcome aboard!

After I’d had my fill on the floater, I made my way up the beach and popped into McCoy’s for a cold one. No one there I knew, so after my beer, I walked back to Barretto. I paid a visit to Whiskey Girl and their “buy one, get one” promo, and also saw my favorite waitress, Jen.

The Whiskey Girl dance crew was working hard for my entertainment, so I brought the one on the front right down for a drink.

I was rapidly approaching my limit, but I ventured across the highway to finish my drinking spree at Queen Victoria. Didn’t see Rein or Irish there, though. That’s fine. From what I recall, I drank alone. Made it home safe and sound, without any trips, slips, or falls. That’s the best way to end the night. Well, mad passionate sex is good, too, I suppose. Maybe next time.

I hope you all have a Good Friday!

Here’s that song that brings Filipinas to their feet:

Goin’ down

So, let’s retrace yesterday’s events in reverse, starting with the last bar I visited and ending with the hike that began my day, shall we?

The last stop of the night was Wet Spot. I had run into Dave and his gal at my previous stop, and he invited me to sample the chili he was making a test run with in preparation for a chili cookoff next weekend in San Antonio. Alas, the guy in charge of the kettle reported that something went wrong with the beans, and the end result was inedible. Oh well, next time. And yes, I hope to attend the event in San Antonio on Saturday.

And Aine was there to keep me company, too.

Prior to the Wet Spot visit, I had made a rare appearance at Voodoo. The circumstances leading to that happening involved running into a group of my fellow Hashers on the street. I had left Hideaway and was undecided about where to go next. The guys said they were on their way to Mugshots. I advised them that Mugshots is closed on Wednesdays, so someone suggested Voodoo as an alternative, and I joined in.

L-R would be Dave, Simon, Ken, and Jim. I usually drink alone, so it was nice to have some male companionship for a change.
Well, my regular Voodoo girl wasn’t going to be denied her lady drink bounty just because I was there with friends.

I had started my night out with the Hideaway feeding. The gals seem to appreciate the effort, and it gives me some pleasure to fill the void in their bellies with some local goodness. Last night it was roast chicken and fried chicken with rice. Brownies and Oreo cookies were the dessert items.

Goodbye Oreo!

So, that was my night in Barretto. Now to my morning on Easter Mountain.

This was day 2 of scouting for Monday’s Hash trail. On day 1, we had found the path to the top we wanted, but the coming down was not to our liking. Yesterday we started where the downhill ends and made our way back to the top from there. There is no getting around the fact that it will be a hard, steep down, but at least the way we’ve chosen will be easier to follow. Tomorrow we’ll scout the second climb through the Black Rock ridgeline for the hard trail. The easy version will be a valley walk.

Ken came along on the scouting expedition
Heading for the hills
A pleasant walk through a mango grove
Into the grasses
The destination we are bound for
Ain’t no easy way to get there, though
Going up the down trail
Getting closer, one step at a time
The view from here
Poor Jim is destined to wait on the slowpokes
I’m the documentarian, and those photos aren’t going to take themselves…that’s my excuse, and I’m sticking with it!
Rockin’ it!
Getting higher and higher, just like in high school!
The final push upwards
Down in the valley, the valley so low…
Almost to the top
I don’t know why, but the tree and the rocks gave me a peaceful easy feeling.
That’s the village of Naugsol way down there.
And that would be San Isidro
Easter Mountain has two peaks. Our Hash climb will take us to the pictured first peak, and then we will walk to the other to begin our descent.
One more shot of the view from the top
Going back down the way we just came up
And that’s the way we did it!

In other news, CNN had a story featuring a Filipina cover girl for Vogue magazine.

Still looking spry at 106 years old. Dig those tattoos.

I was up and at ’em a little before 5:00 a.m. this morning and enjoyed the view.

I was just talkin’ to the moon, hopin’ someday soon that I’d be over, the memory of you…

So, feeling inspired, I mashed up some bananas and created about the best damn muffins in recent memory.

Yeah, that’s what I’m talkin’ about!
Funny how that works

Let me leave you with a song. It’s an oldie (of course) but not a tune I’m that familiar with. It came on last night at Hideaway with the video I’m posting below. It cracked me up, especially in light of the recent alcohol-related discussions we’ve had here in the comments. I may be bad, but at least I ain’t that bad. Or maybe I was back when I was drinking gin.

Upsi-daisy

I wound up doing all of the short trail (4K+) yesterday. It featured three climbs, something I would not normally do voluntarily. In fact, at the top of the first hill, a long, steep slog, I could have taken a left turn and avoided the other ups, but that would have meant finishing too soon, even by my low standards. I figured I could either bail at the bottom of the down or after the second climb. Turns out, at the bottom, there was nowhere else to go but up, and at the top of the second hill, there was nothing to be done but follow the trail to the end. Well, it’s always nice to get through a tough trail, so that sense of pride is my return for a hot afternoon’s work.

A Gods-eye view of the trail
We gathered at the Saver’s Appliance store on the edge of town and began our hike from there.
The Hare, Demolition Derby, provides last-minute guidance.
And we are On-On!
And the first big up started right away
What an inclination!
The trail was steeped in mystery…when do we reach the top?
Posers
Hello down there!
The trail teased us with a taste of flatness before resuming the upward angle.
And then, at last, we began the descent. But with each step downward, I knew a future step would lead me back up again.
It wasn’t a particularly easy down either.
The long and short of it
Buddy Fucker makes it through the fence…
…and so does Bum Burglar
The end of the second climb was a real bitch
Hill #2 is in the books!
Steep and slippery going down the second time too.
Easy does it
On the home stretch at last
Wasn’t that fun?
The Hash Circle at Blue Butterfly

My night after the hike went to shit. I was just in a pissy mood for some reason. Wound up leaving the circle early, being an asshole at IDM, and then heading home about the time the other Hashers arrived. Luckily, that behavior is not my norm. I was embarrassed thinking about it this morning.

I can and will do better.

Getting high on Palm Sunday

I can top that!

I made the ascent to the peak of Easter mountain yesterday without incident. In fact, I made it to the top without much difficulty, which is especially surprising. I had carried my portable nebulizer with me in anticipation of a breathing attack during the climb, but I didn’t need it. Oh sure, I did some huffing on puffing on the way up, but the normal kind, not the “oh my God, I can’t breathe” feeling I’ve been experiencing recently. Even my hiking companion, Jim, was surprised at my slow but steady progress up the mountain without the need to stop and rest. I hope this is a sign that whatever has been ailing my worn-out lungs has left the building. Another indication that things may be improving is that I’m sleeping through the night without the need to get up and nebulize. I’m not sure what has changed, but it occurs to me that perhaps my rejection of gin as my alcoholic beverage of choice had a positive impact. Whatever, feeling healthier is like, well, a breath of fresh air!

The purpose of yesterday’s climb was to scout the trail for the traditional Easter Monday Hash run. The way we are going to the top is steep but not as tough as some other paths we’ve Hashed recently. Now, getting back down was another matter. There is still a lot of grass, which made finding an easy-to-follow trail difficult. In fact, we are going back out on Wednesday to find a better alternative than what we took yesterday. We’ll do that by starting at the bottom where we want to come out and then working our way back up. So, yes, I have another Easter mountain climb in the near future, actually, two more because we’ll also need to go back and mark the trail on Easter Monday.

The Hashers will ride rented Jeepneys to the trailhead next week. Jim and I took a trike yesterday to the starting point.

We got dropped off here, in clear view of our objective.
Heading to our rendezvous with the mountain.
Let the climbing begin! You’ll see Jim waiting for me in most of these photos. I may be feeling better, but I’m still slow. Plus, I was taking the pictures.
Onward and upward!
Still, a long way to go
Looking back down from whence we came
I’m coming! I’m coming!
Getting closer
I’m falling further and further behind, it seems, but Jim is a patient man
A measure of our upwards progress
And now it is time to rock it!
Getting stoned!
Don’t look down!
The final push to the top
That’s going to be a new subdivision someday
The bay view from here
I’ll take that as a sign!
Summit achieved!
The proof that I made it too
The view from the top
As I mentioned, getting down was no easy task
Steep and slippery, and you can’t see your footing in that tall grass.
And there didn’t seem to be any clear path down
And it got a little jungle-like near the bottom
It was hot and dirty work getting down, but we will find a better way for the Hashers to follow.
This is where we came out and not exactly where we want to be. Further up the highway is the trail we want. We’ll explore that back up on Wednesday and then finalize our plans for the Monday Hash. Jim is taking the hardy group over the Black Rock ridge; I’ll lead the sane group through the valley.

We are off to a good start, though.

And now, for the rest of the day. I bought the Hideaway girls some Korean-style chicken wings and bulgogi from John’s place, along with a pizza from Shamboli’s for their Sunday feeding.

Bulgogi, wings, and seaweed (kim)
Hawaiian pizza
And Choco Pies for dessert
Kim, rice, and bulgogi wrap down the hatch!
Hideaway was unusually busy for a Sunday evening, and I had to sit at a table instead of the bar when I first arrived.

And after my time at Hideaway, I kept my promise and dropped by to see Aine, the new old girl at Wet Spot.

She’s still looking good for 40-something.
I also passed by the Catholic church, which was in full swing at the start of Holy Week. The sidewalk in front is lined with vendors selling, you guessed it, palm leaves. I don’t really know the significance of palms and Easter week, but it seems pretty important to the folks of faith here.

It is Hash Monday for me, so I need to prepare myself for that adventure. Hopefully, it goes as well as yesterday did for me.

A rock as black as my heart

Only three for the Friday group hike yesterday, and we made it our mission to conquer Black Rock mountain. Mission accomplished!

A 6.5k trek up and over the Black Rock
My fellow travelers, Stuart and Rob
Off we go!
Up the National Highway
And into the Santa Monica subdivision
On the streets of Santa Monica
Out onto the Govic Highway
The road to the rock
Heading up
And up
On top of Black Rock
The village of St. James in Calapacuan
A hazy day, but that’s Barretto off in the distance and Alta Vista on the hill to the left.
The valley our downward path will take us to
Heading down
And down. When dry, the rocks aren’t slippery; thank goodness
A brief stop for a cookie delivery
Down in the valley
A recent burn. ‘Tis the season which explains the haze in the air
I’ll be helping to scout a trail tomorrow for the Easter Monday Hash climb up Easter Mountain
Heading back to Alta Vista, where the trail ended for me

You can Relive the walk here if you so desire:

https://www.relive.cc/view/vAOZo4dXwy6

A nice hike on a warm day, satisfying my walkaholic urges. A few hours later, it was time to quench my alcoholic thirst. Mary wanted to visit some new bars (to her) with me. So, we met up at Sloppy Joe’s and went from there. While I waited for her arrival, I enjoyed the company of Chris, and his gal, who usually hangs out at It Doesn’t Matter. Both have that street-view outdoor ambiance I prefer. Mary arrived and had a couple of gin and soda drinks; then we moved on to Outback.

Outback has an indoor and a poolside bar; I opted for the beach seats.

Beer with a view
And some fish and chips for dinner

I next took Mary to a bar I’ve only visited twice since it opened named Luxe. It’s actually a very nice bar with some sexy dancers, but for whatever reason, it is just not my kind of place. We stayed for one drink; then, we moved a few doors down to Thumbstar.

Now, I’m not a regular at Thumbstar, either. It also has dancers, but most of them are fat and unattractive. Still, with their Friday night buy-one-get-one deal, it’s not a bad place to chill and enjoy the atmosphere. Mary thought the music was too loud, but the waitress claimed she wasn’t authorized to turn down the sound. We wound up staying anyway since the drinks were so cheap. Mary and the waitress did tequila shots together, and she seemed to be enjoying herself.

Got back home before nine, made up a batch of smoothies, then hit the hay. I woke up with Mary beside me (sleeping in her dress) and let her sleep in while I went about my morning routine. She woke in time to do the dog walk. I made her a breakfast of meatballs (leftover from the other night) with corn on the cob and garlic bread. Who says you can’t improvise in the morning?

After the meal, I walked Mary to the highway, and she caught a Jeep back home. I did my standard Saturday solo walk, which took me past the scene of yesterday’s accident. To my surprise, the Jeepney was still on the side of the road.

I didn’t take this photo. Guys were working to salvage parts when I walked by, so I didn’t bother. I have learned that the guy behind the Jeepney driver was killed, and you can see why from the damage. I suspect he was the one who was bleeding out in the video I posted yesterday.

And that brings y’all pretty much up to date on my so-called life.

I don’t have a drinking problem. I drink, I get drunk, I fall down. No problem!

The day in pictures

I have a doctor’s appointment at 11 a.m. and a meet-up with Mary in the afternoon, so I’m going to do my daily post about yesterday this morning. And I’ll let the photos do most of the talking.

The Wednesday Walkers, all three of us, made the trek out to the far side of Naugsol in Scott’s car. We don’t get out this way very often due to a lack of transportation options, but with our small turnouts of late, a single vehicle is all that’s needed.

Where we walked. About 6.5K when we were done.
My fellow hikers, Ed and Scott
Let’s do this!
It’s probably only 5K further out than my regular walks, but the scenery is different, and it has a whole other vibe for some reason.
And we ran into a locally famous hiker named Karl doing his own trek from the opposite direction. I have nothing but respect and admiration for Karl. He is in his late 70s and does these amazing historical hikes (like abandoned mines, military battlefields, etc.) that are long, challenging, and little traveled. And he goes it alone. Well done, sir!
Kids at the local sari-sari store
A military checkpoint in the middle of nowhere. I’m not sure if there are insurgents in the area; I’ve never heard of any issues out this way.
A powerful tower!
Time to cross the river
That’s one way to do it.
The headwaters of the Matain river…
Resting on a shady rock
Do you see what I see?
Marching on the old dirt road
These native Aeta children were happy for some cookies.
As were this shy mother and child
Follow the leader
The path less taken
Nature’s handrail
The village of Alibang
Children of the village
The village church and schoolhouse
The final cookie delivery for the day
Road work
Finishing our hike in the shadow of Easter mountain

I really enjoyed this excursion, one of the best of our recent efforts.

There was still more to do, of course, including my Wednesday feeding at Hideaway. I had a 15% discount coupon for Sit-n-Bull, so I put it to work:

The night’s menu: fried chicken, chicken fingers, shanghai lumpia, and lasagna with mashed potatoes and garlic bread for Joy. Oh, with brownies for dessert.
Garlic bread down the hatch
A swallow of potatoes…

The beer flowed freely, as did the lady drinks, some friendly interactions with the other patrons, and a nice relaxing evening in my Hideaway.

I was sober enough to do a nightcap across town at Whiskey Girl, where I enjoyed two for the price of one beer and snuggle time with Jenn.

The dancers put on a nice show for me as well.

I’d call it a good day. Better than this guy had:

This is right down the street from my house. It was like this last night when I came home, and it was still there this morning on my dog walk. Looking at it, I can’t imagine what went wrong, but maybe he just made the left turn a bit too soon.

Yesterday was Vietnam Vets Day, in case you missed it. This tribute is pretty spot-on regarding how my feelings about the war evolved over time. Whatever your opinion about the rationale for engaging in that conflict, the young people who fought it deserve nothing but respect. I encourage you to give it a read.

The doctor’s visit today is about my blocked sinuses and to consult about the surgery that is likely required to resolve the issue. Hopefully, I’ll have good news to report tomorrow in that regard.

Do it to me one more time

Just another Tuesday in paradise. I made my grocery shopping excursion to Royal and wasn’t disappointed…higher prices and more items out of stock—the new normal.

I did get this box of Raisin Bran for 50% off (regular price $4.80). When I got home, I took a closer look and saw that the “use by” date is March 29. Oops! I’ll eat them anyway. What could go wrong?

My mountain friend came and gave me one of her special massages, leaving me panting for breath at the end. That gave me a chance to try out my new portable bedside nebulizer.

It must have worked; I’m still alive.

When beer o’clock (I can say that again!) rolled around, I decided to start with some food and headed over to John’s place.

I was in a pulled pork kind of mood.
Watching the sun as I dined.

After my meal, I popped into It Doesn’t Matter for a couple more beers. I was waiting for 6:00 p.m. to arrive so I could use my 500 peso voucher at Hot Zone. I must say, the lineup of dancers last night was the best I’ve seen in quite some time. Owner Jay joined me at my table and brought a couple of dancers down from the stage to join us. There was another group in the bar with several other dancers at their table. That only left two girls on stage, and I felt kind of sorry for them, so I asked Jay if I should have them join us too. He thought that was a fine idea and instructed me on the Hot Zone way to invite a girl down:

“Stand beside the stage. Rub your hands together. The girl will come over to you and pull her top down. Gently rub her breasts, and then she will come to your table.”

That’s just what I did with both of them, and it worked like a charm! They each ordered double lady drinks (shame on me for not specifying otherwise), but since I had seen and touched their boobs, I guess they earned the extra commission.

In keeping with my newly instituted “drink responsibly” policy, I had reached my limit and it was time to bill out and go home. My beers did not exceed the 500 pesos credit on my voucher, but the two lady drinks totaled 600 pesos. So, once again, my coupon wound up costing me money. Oh, well. I’m rarely at Hot Zone, and I did enjoy me some eye candy. I’d say it was worth it.

Another night of getting home before 8:00 p.m. and being asleep before 9. I really need to stretch that out some, I think. Keeping everything else in balance, of course. I don’t want to fall into more bad habits.

Feeding night at Hideaway tonight to look forward to. A very nice Wednesday Walkers hike on the far side of Naugsol this morning I’ll post about tomorrow.

As always, thanks for coming by. It’s bound to get better.

A nothing burger Hash

I’m still here. So far. I hope the transition to the new host goes smoothly.

I don’t much care for the Hare for yesterday’s trail. It was a hotter than usual afternoon. The trail started halfway up Rizal Extension, which made it a pain in the ass to get to for me. Which is why I said fuck it and made my own trail. Actually, I met up with Scott, whose healing ankle wasn’t up for a mountain climb, and did a street walk with him. At the end of our hike, we had a late lunch/early dinner at Sit-n-Bull.

I did the chimichangas.

After our meal, we walked up the street to the VFW for the Hash circle. I got called out for a Hash crash and was required to sit on the ice for my non-Hash-related drunken tumble on Friday night. That’s okay.

After the Hash circle, I joined the group at It Doesn’t Matter for some more beers. I was mindful of my inebriation level and departed prior to reaching the danger zone. It feels good to be back in control!

Hopefully, it will be a more normal Hash adventure next week with pictures and everything.

Last night at Hideaway

While I’m at it and still can, here’s the lowdown from last night’s feeding at Hideaway.

As usual, Sunday dinner came from Jewel Cafe. Chef salad, egg fried rice, ten chicken wings, and seven orders of pork sisig.

A couple of the feeders…
And the star of the show

I behaved myself, confining myself to San Mig Zero beer. I had several but didn’t cross the line. As I was walking down the highway contemplating my nightcap venue, once again, a trike driver called me by name and wanted to take me home. Upon reflection, I decided that was my best option, so I took it.

So, hopefully, I’ll be back tomorrow with a post about today’s Hash.

Until we meet again, I trust I won’t be a Long Time Gone.

Zeroing in

Welcome back, my friend! I’ve missed you!

I made it through my miserable hangover day. It reminded me of my COVID symptoms: no energy, light-headed, and without appetite. I took a day off from walking and just lazed around the house, napping off and on. By the time evening rolled around, I was feeling marginally better, so I ventured out to see what Saturday night held in store for me.

I kicked things off at It Doesn’t Matter, and waitresses Agnes and Juliet immediately noticed that something was off with me, And not just because I ordered a San Mig Zero instead of gins and soda. They commented on my wounds, and I had to tell the story of my sordid encounter with gravity the night before. I took my time downing two cold bottles (3% alcohol and 60 calories each), then decided I needed to have my first meal of the day.

IDM no longer serves food, but the Hops and Brews beer garden seemed like a good option, so off I went. I hadn’t been here since my first date with Lydell, but I couldn’t hold the restaurant responsible for that failed attempt at a relationship. Hops and Brews is a beer connoisseur’s dream with draft and bottled brews from around the world. I just wanted to stick with my new old favorite, Zero, but alas, that’s one brand they don’t carry. I had to settle for a San Miguel Light (5% alcohol and 100 calories) to wash down my tasty sweet and sour pork dinner. One beer here and out.

Next stop, BarCelona. Two Zeros consumed as I enjoyed the view of my former hangout, Cheap Charlies. My eyes are not good enough to make out faces from that distance, but the bar didn’t seem very busy. I wonder if the gals there are missing me my lady drinks largesse? Sorry seems to be the hardest word, right, Nerissa?

I’m happy to report that my drinking low-alcohol beer slowly strategy seemed to be working quite well. I wanted to finish my night at the scene of my crime, Wet Spot, to see if I had engaged in any behaviors that warranted an apology. Both my waitress, Irene, and owner, Dave, assured me that while I appeared to be having a good time, I had not been rude or otherwise obnoxious. Dave even bought me a beer!

So, after eight beers on the night, I went home with a light buzz but no discernable physical impairment. That’s always the goal. My Fitbit tells me I fell asleep at 8:40 p.m. and awoke at 3:47 a.m. That’s a tad early on both ends, but it suits me better than waking up on the floor, that’s for sure.

I am happy to report that I’m feeling back to normal today.

My facial wounds (forehead, under the eye, and under the nose) appear to be healing fine.

I did a 7K walk this morning that went well despite my being a little winded towards the end. Coincidentally, as I concluded my hike, I saw a sign for a new funeral parlor:

That’s a perfect name, as I’m sure their clients will indeed be breathless.

And I got a message from one of my former employees, Sherry Villanueva, and she sent me this photo of those long ago days when I was her boss in Korea.

That’s probably from around 2006 or so. I was not the Director yet but in charge of employee and labor relations. I hired Sherry as one of my staffers.

My favorite story about Sherry came immediately after I hired her. I interviewed by telephone, so I had never seen her before. She was the most qualified, so she’s the one I picked. I never gave a crap about EEO and their “underrepresentation” stats. I picked the best person for the job and didn’t care what color they were. Still, I assumed with a name like “Villanueva,” she was Hispanic, and EEO would tick off that box. I was surprised to get an email from EEO congratulating me on meeting my Pacific Islander goal. Yep, Sherry is a Filipina. What a world.

Anyway, Sherry only worked for me for a couple of years before starting a new job in the USA. We remained Facebook friends but very rarely had any contact. And now, she is returning to Korea to my old job as the Director, Human Resources Management for USFK/8th Army. Congratulations, and good luck to her! It’s great to see someone you mentored become such a success.

And the wheel in the sky keeps on turning.

UPDATE: I’m not sure if everyone is having the same issues I and at least one of my readers are having accessing my blog. I’ve tried to contact HostGator to see what the issue is but have not had any success with that either. The issue seems to come and go, so check back later if, at first, you don’t succeed.

An SOB kicked my ass last night

The drunk SOB I’m referring to. I don’t remember taking this selfie or much of anything else.

Gin and her pal Soda were accessories to the crime. Mary was a witness, and I guess that’s a good thing; otherwise, I’d have no recollection of what happened. Actually, I don’t recall much about my attendance at the SOB, but I must have had a good time. When the show was over, Mary and I took a trike back to my house. She said that I tripped and fell on my face when I exited the trike. The trike driver tried to help Mary get me back on my feet; then, a passing motorcyclist stopped to assist. I woke up on the floor of my bedroom in the wee hours of the morning, wondering what the fuck happened. Mary filled in the gaps, and from what she describes, I don’t know that I’ve ever been drunker. I know the hangover I’m suffering from today is one of the worst I’ve experienced.

So, I’ve come to a decision. I’m going to give up drinking. Gin. That’s right; beer belly be damned, I’m going back to Zero from now on. The trouble with hard alcohol drinks for me is I can’t monitor my level of inebriation–one minute, I’m fine; the next, I’m over the line. With beer, especially a low-alcohol beer like Zero, I can drink until I’m ready to stop without getting falling down drunk. I mean, I like a nice relaxing buzz, but I hate losing control of my mind and body. I’ve had two falls now on Gin, and it is just not worth pushing my luck.

In other news, we had a pleasant Friday group hike. Only four of us and we did the My Bitch trail from end to end.

Right around 8K with one climb.
Gathering at the start
And we’re off!
Up the steps in shanty town
It was a hot day, and the shade felt good
Come on up, Anne!
A shady spot to wait for the stragglers.
Barretto
Baloy
Kalaklan Ridge
Taking in the view
Grassy summit
That’s Rizal Extension down below
Easter mountain. Looks like I’ll be one of the Hares for the traditional Easter Monday climb to the top.
Getting it done
Back down on Rizal Extension
Looking back up at where we’d been

The day started better than it ended, that’s for sure!

Over sand and foam

Thursday is the day I make my weekly visit to the floating bar on Baloy. I really do enjoy the ambiance and gentle swaying on the water as I sip my gin and soda.

I should probably visit more often, but maybe the “only once in a while” aspect adds to the enjoyment.

Before the floating bar was relaunched, I got my sand and foam fix satiated at McCoy’s beach bar. I felt a little guilty about not being back since the floater option was available, so I resolved to pay a visit once I was back ashore.

The view from McCoy’s
And the view from my barstool

I would have preferred a seat with a better water view, but the late afternoon setting sun was shining brightly on that section of the bar. I was feeling a little hungry, but the only thing I saw on the menu that resonated was the chicken burger. Naturally, I got the “sorry sir, out of stock” response from the waitress. Ah, well. They don’t serve individual gin and soda drinks (you have to buy the bottle and drink shots Filipino style), so I was drinking San Miguel Light (no Zero beer either). Two of those, and I was off to find a more suitable venue for my dining and drinking needs.

I was a little buzzed at this point but still wanted to walk off those beer calories, so I did the jaunt from Baloy to mid-town Barretto.

As I passed Whiskey Girl, the manager, Mark, was seated outside, and we chatted a bit. Then he presented me with a VIP card for an upcoming customer appreciation party. I can drink for free with the card between 5–6 p.m. on April 27th. Woo Hoo! Thanks, Mark!

Further up the road, Mugshots was open, so I popped in to let them know they had missed out on the brownies I had prepared especially for them. As I suspected, they advised that their hours had changed, and now they don’t open until 6:00 p.m. I was the first and only customer, so I ordered my gin and soda and lady drinks for the three bar staff. The Mugshots menu has only a few items, but I don’t mind a small menu where everything is freshly prepared and done well. I went with the chicken wings.

They were delicious, as were the cole slaw and fries. Lots of wings too. I had enough left over for each of my companions to share in the bounty.

I enjoyed my visit to Mugshots, a comfortable and friendly place. I’ll be back. I might even bring some brownies with me.

I headed back out on the road searching for a nightcap venue and decided on Voodoo in keeping with my infrequently visited bars theme. There were a couple of people I knew at the back slapper’s table, and we exchanged greetings. My favorite dancer, an old-timer (literally in her 40s), Tia, was happy to see me after my long absence and joined me at my table for a lady drink. After a bit, I noticed the four remaining dancers on stage looked bored, and as I sometimes do, I wanted to give them a small tip in appreciation for their hard work. I asked my waitress to change two 100 peso notes into four 50s, and she returned saying they wouldn’t give me change. Hmm. You know, it’s no big deal, but it struck me as bad customer service and unfair to their employees. If I’m managing the bar, I send someone outside for change if need be, but that’s just me. It kind of killed my vibe, but I was probably under the influence of the alcohol I had already consumed, so I paid up and left. I grabbed a trike outside and was home and in bed before 9 p.m. Yep, that’s how I roll these days.

What else? Well, Facebook reminded me that one year ago, I took this photo of the house being constructed behind me:

And here is how it looks today. Still work being done, but the main construction appears complete. It doesn’t completely destroy my bay view, although I have to believe some type awning will be built over that rooftop patio. You can’t sit out there in the sun without one.

Oh, and remember that Philly cheesesteak sandwich photo from yesterday?

Didn’t taste any better than it looks

Well, today, John Kim of John’s Sushi and Steak fame posted on Facebook that his Philly cheesesteak sandwich is on special this week.

I can’t wait to taste the difference!

And I don’t do much politics these days, having learned that minds aren’t likely to be changed regardless, so what’s the point? I still see others who do, and the ensuing arguments are pretty sad to see. So, this seems to serve as an apt reminder to those who choose to engage in a war of words:

At least, that’s how I see it.

I’m planning on doing the SOB tonight, and it looks like Mary will be joining me for the event. I’ll let you know how it goes tomorrow.

Another Bluesday

Not saying it was a bad day necessarily; just a little bit off. I supposedly had a doctor’s appointment with an ENT specialist in Olongapo at 8:30 a.m., but when I arrived, I was told the doctor wouldn’t be in until 11:00. Apparently, there was a miscommunication with my helper, who confused office hours with the doctor’s hours. The way it works with most physicians is you show up and are seen on a “first come, first served” basis. Bullshit. I’m not sitting around for a couple of hours to see a doctor–give me an appointment, and I’ll be there. I know, I know, take a deep breath, relax, and accept the Filipino way. Hmm, nope, still not gonna do it.

Things didn’t get much better come evening time. The last time I visited Mugshots, the bartender said she was craving some of my brownies. I honestly didn’t recall ever bringing brownies there, but I promised her would bring some on a future visit. With nothing specific in mind for my night out, I set about keeping my word and baked up a batch. Now, I seem to recall that Mugshots opened late afternoon, so I was planning to share the brownies and try their food, which I’d seen receive positive reviews. I arrived around 5:00, and they were closed. Now what? I started to walk another block to Blue Butterfly but changed my mind. It’s not on my regular circuit, and I just wasn’t feeling it. Cheap Charlies seemed like a good fit, but I wanted to avoid the drama with Nerissa I experienced on my previous visit. Well, I decided that it was within my power to do so, and off I went. I honestly figured Nerissa wouldn’t bother to bother with me anyway.

As soon as I sat down, Nerissa came and sat next to me. I gave her a polite greeting and proceeded to ignore her. Once again, she didn’t express any regrets about ending our budding friendship so abruptly, and I really had nothing else to say to her (nor any poems to recite). After a bit, she took the hint and moved away to another stool. I had a couple of drinks alone (my other regulars weren’t working), then paid my tab and left. I still don’t understand the situation with her, and I’m a little pissed at myself for even caring. But whatever, I’m moving on.

I walk back to Mugshots, and they still aren’t open. Oh well, I guess it was just not meant to be brownie night there. I turn around and head up the highway, and figure The Green Room will be a place I can drink and order some grub from Sit-n-Bull. I’m far from a regular there, but it is still a friendly place. I order my drink and see that someone is having a birthday party, and the girls are all partaking in the cake. My poor brownies just can’t catch a break! The Sitn-n-Bull waitress arrives, and I decide to dine on a pork steak. I also get the waitresses in my section a pizza to share (cheaper than lady drinks!). I finish my food and drink(s), then me and my brownies depart.

Where to next? I had just been to Whiskey Girl the night before, but I figured Jenn would be a suitable recipient of my brownies gift. She was nowhere to be seen when I arrived, but another waitress fetched her for me. She said she had been eating, and I told her to go back and finish her meal. She refused and plopped down next to me. I told you she was sweet!

She seemed to enjoy my brownies as much as I enjoyed her snuggling.

I got a message from my pal Ron that he was going to Snackbar at 8:00. I responded that I’d had just about enough to drink, but I’d join him there for one on my way home. When I arrived, he wasn’t there. But my former love was, though. Cuddled up with her new husband. At least she took it outside, so it wasn’t in my face. I had a drink to drown my sorrows, bought one for my three favorites, then grabbed a trike for home.

What a day. Well, they all can’t be good ones, and I suppose it could have been worse. Hopefully, it will be a more pleasant experience feeding the girls at Hideaway tonight.

Oh, Facebook memories shared these photos I took of the National Highway in Barretto in March 2020:

Looking on the bright side of the scamdemic, at least it was easy to cross the road without the need to dodge trikes, jeepneys, and crazy drivers. Of course, there was no need to cross the street because every fucking thing had been shut down for the lockdown.

Those were the days, eh?

A well-marked trail

(With apologies to ZZ Top)

Hash shirt, hiking shoes
But I don't know where I'm goin' to
Fresh powder, bright chalk
And now I know where to walk

Gonna make it ON-HOME without any fails
'Cause Hashers go crazy about a well-marked trail

Steep hills, thick grass
But I ain't losin' my ass
Checkpoints, creek beds
But I'll keep movin' ahead

Gonna make it ON-HOME without any fails
'Cause Hashers go crazy 'bout a well-marked trail

Commenter Kevin asked for a post showing how a Hash trail is marked, so I will attempt to do so using yesterday’s trail as an example of a well-marked trail. The trail itself was overall the easiest I’ve done in recent memory. I forgot to turn on my tracker, but the Hare said the short trail was 4K. I finished in just over an hour, so I doubt it was actually that long.

The climb I did was of average difficulty and length, but damn, my poor old lungs were making me wonder if my days in the hills are numbered. I had to pause a couple of times to use my inhaler, but I finally made it to the top. After that, it was clear sailing without any issues. In fact, I was surprised to find myself at the proverbial end of the trail much sooner than I expected.

Let’s do it again through pictures, shall we?

The Hare, Yogini, did something a little unusual by demonstrating some of the markings we would encounter on the trail during the meet-up at the VFW.

So, you have the powder on the ground, which indicates you are on the trail. The chalk arrow points in the direction you should go, and the “1” confirms the marking is for the day’s trail, #1541. That’s important because we often encounter marks from previous Hashes, and without a number, you may follow an old trail. The circle with the “x” is a checkpoint. Some Hares will place a checkpoint when there is an intersection of trails. This requires the Hashers to explore the various options until they find the right path. If they come to the three lines, it means On-Back; you are on the wrong trail. You know you are on the right trail when you find a chalk or powder marker, which indicates you are “On-On!” I personally despise checkpoints and never incorporate them into my trails as a Hare.

The Hare provided last-minute guidance to the kennel at the VFW starting point.
And we are On-On!
A chalk arrow points the way.
And the powder on the ground affirms you are indeed on the right trail.
Ah, the dreaded checkpoint. The original intent and purpose of a checkpoint was to help close the gap between fast and slow Hashers. So, whoever got there first would explore the options, find the true trail, and then indicate the proper direction with a new chalk marking. That doesn’t happen here in the Subic Hash; it’s every Hasher for themself. And as the person who is perennially at the back of the pack, it just puts me further behind. I guessed right on my first try at this checkpoint, though.
Powder on a tree…
...and chalk on a rock
Do you see the arrow?
On-Up!
Each step is one step closer to the top.
By golly, I think we done it!
My little town
An Easter mountain view
Just follow the powder, and you can’t go wrong
One of the factors I consider important to a well-marked trail is frequency and consistency. There should always be some kind of mark when there is more than one option, like at an intersection. I also like to see a mark at regular intervals (I think every 50 steps or so is good). If I haven’t seen a mark in a while, I know I must have missed the trail, so I can turn around and find it.
Plodding along
These kids seem to know when I’m coming…
Let’s go thataway!
As usual, the runners on the long trail passed me before I finished the short trail.
Babes in the shade
Powder AND an arrow…I like it!
Made it to Alta Vista
Seems clear enough
Hard not to see that turn
We exited Alta Vista in an unusual way, climbing those steps up to the water tank, then coming back down through a squatter village.
The view of Alta Vista from the water tank. That’s actually the street I live on down there.
“Beer Near” is probably my favorite trail marking.
I know the way from here
On-Home at Johansson’s
A gathering of Hashers
I had the chicken cordon bleu for my post-hike nourishment
Hash Gash
Circle up!
It’s nice on ice!
A visiting Hasher from Puerto Galera is given a special Subic greeting
Watching the festivities
Here’s a useful tip: DO NOT wear new shoes to the Hash. Unless you want to drink out of them.
Turns out, it was also our visitor’s birthday. Happy 28th, and enjoy the cake we made you!

After the Hash, I had some more beer at Sloppy Joe’s. I even bought Jamaica a lady drink. When I was walking back towards my end of town in search of a nightcap, I heard Jenn calling out to me from across the highway at Whiskey Girl. So, I got to finish the day with some cuddling. That’s always nice!

Here’s the original version of the song I re-wrote for this blog post:

What it was

It was Sunday, and it went like this:

Mary was making a cookie delivery to my house at 1:00 p.m., so I promised her lunch. I teased her with this photo because she professes to love corn dogs. But what she got was chili and cornbread. She seemed to love that too.
My cookies for distribution to the kiddies I encounter on my hikes.

Mary joined me in the bedroom for dessert and a nap, then she left to make more deliveries, and I headed out for the Sunday feeding at Hideaway.

I’ve made Jewel Cafe the headquarters for Sunday dinner. It’s reasonably priced, the girls seem to enjoy it, and best of all, they deliver. I just drop by on the way to Hideaway, place my order, and hit the street. Last night it was four orders of pork sisig, two orders of chicken quesadilla, two orders of chicken wings, and a pork chop for Joy. Since I’d been otherwise occupied all afternoon, I got a dozen Dunkin’ Donuts for the girl’s dessert.

pork sisig
chicken wings
quesadilla
I neglected to get a photo of the grilled pork chop, but here’s one of Joy biting a quesadilla.
donuts for dessert

I sprang for a few lady drinks, got comped on a couple of mine, and had fifty dollar bar tab when I left (dinner was another thirty). That’s livin’ large, even by my standards, but like they say, you can’t take it with you when you go.

I was feeling no pain when I left Hideaway, but I didn’t let that stop me from dodging traffic on the highway as I made my way across town. I was thinking about Alaska but liked the idea of sitting outside at Sloppy Joe’s better.

As seen from my perch at Sloppy Joe’s. The girl on the right with her back to me is Jamaica. She used to work at Snackbar, and I was crushing on her at one time. She calls me Daddy, though, which I think is code for “you’re a fucking old man, leave me alone!” Her body language seems to be saying the same.

Alaska is right next door, so I made that my final destination for the night.

And as always, I enjoyed the beauty of Virginia. Maybe one of these days, I’ll explore more of Virginia.

Here’s some other stuff I came across:

The Babylon Bee has a story entitled: Man Disappointed To Learn ‘Quoting Monty Python’ Not A Marketable Skill. It made me laugh, especially in light of the fiasco that was me reciting poetry to Filipina bargirls.

I recently made a photographic appearance on an expat forum called PI@Night. “Exploring the PI with a focus on it’s colorful nightlife, from the expat and visitor perspective.”

Board members have an alias name, sort of like the Hash. I’m Walrus on PI@Night. Saturday night, we were all randomly together at the same table in Wet Spot. What are the odds?

Then a friend back in Seoul sent me a link to an old Flickr page of photos from the Seoul International Dart League. It was quite a stroll down memory lane with faces of people I hadn’t seen for many years. Here are a couple of my favorites:

Who’s that girl?
Who’s that fat guy on the left?
Where are they now? Last I heard, Dave was in Pennsylvania, Grant was in Baja California, and Alistair is in Scotland. The fat guy is in the Philippines and retired from darts.
I really was having the time of my life back in those days (circa 2008). I’m not sure I appreciated that fact at the time, though. Sometimes I wonder if I’m doing the same thing now. These might well be the best days of my life. And really, at my age, every day of living is a gift.

And finally, there is this:

It may not look like much now, but this vacant lot at the corner of Baloy Road and the National Highway, will soon be the location of Barrio Barretto’s newest dining establishment. It’s actually part of a chain you might have heard of–McDonald’s.

Alright, it’s Hash Monday, and I need to grab a nap and then get ready to hike. I will be back with more excitement tomorrow. Assuming I have one.

The most important things

“The most important things are the hardest to say. They are the things you get ashamed of, because words diminish them — words shrink things that seemed limitless when they were in your head to no more than living size when they’re brought out. But it’s more than that, isn’t it? The most important things lie too close to wherever your secret heart is buried, like landmarks to a treasure your enemies would love to steal away. And you may make revelations that cost you dearly only to have people look at you in a funny way, not understanding what you’ve said at all, or why you thought it was so important that you almost cried while you were saying it. That’s the worst, I think. When the secret stays locked within not for want of a teller but for want of an understanding ear.”

Stephen king

So, about last night. I hadn’t visited It Doesn’t Matter in quite some time, so I decided I’d start out there. I’m not sure why, but the vibe just felt different somehow, and not in a good way. Maybe it was just me. I decided to change things up with a visit to Cheap Charlies.

My longtime favorite, Alma, was back after taking time off to be with her visiting American boyfriend. She gave me a warm greeting and took my drink order. I was a little surprised when Nerissa pulled up a chair beside me. Well, she may not like me, but I guess earning a drink commission is still a priority. At first, I gave her a bit of a cold shoulder treatment, but after a couple of drinks, I lightened up some. I showed her a message I’d sent her after our last meeting that she hadn’t responded to, and she told me that’s not an active account. I reminded her I was blocked on the other one, and she just shrugged. For whatever reason, I felt compelled to recite some poetry from memory. This was the first one:

I ask but one thing of you, only one,
That always you will be my dream of you;
That never shall I wake to find untrue
All this I have believed and rested on,
Forever vanished, like a vision gone
Out into the night. Alas, how few
There are who strike in us a chord we knew
Existed, but so seldom heard its tone
We tremble at the half-forgotten sound.
The world is full of rude awakenings
And heaven-born castles shattered to the ground,
Yet still our human longing vainly clings
To a belief in beauty through all wrongs.
O stay your hand, and leave my heart its songs!

–Amy Lowell

The other girls seemed impressed. Nerissa just sat there with a blank expression. I don’t know why I can remember all the lines in a poem, but I am lucky to remember my name sometimes. Since I was on a roll, this poem came to mind:

Let it be forgotten, as a flower is forgotten,
Forgotten as a fire that once was singing gold,
Let it be forgotten for ever and ever,
Time is a kind friend, he will make us old.

If anyone asks, say it was forgotten
Long and long ago,
As a flower, as a fire, as a hushed footfall
In a long forgotten snow.
–Sara Teasdale

Reciting poems in a bar with loud music in the background is a pretty foolish thing to do, and I was not quite drunk enough to continue the effort. But when Nerissa came back from the CR and sat down on the other side of me, I leaned over towards her so I could speak privately. Then I began reciting the Stephen King quote from above. Nerissa stopped me about halfway through and said, “why do you quote poems instead of just saying what’s on your mind?” I guess I realized then that I was wasting my breath on her, so I ceased the effort to determine if there was any friendship left to salvage.

I had ordered some food from the restaurant downstairs, and when it arrived, I shared it with my bargirl crew.

Lumpia, chicken fingers, and wings.
The crew. You can see how happy Nerissa is to see me.
It might be time to find a different venue with less drama.

I departed Cheap Charlies, crossed the highway, and pulled up a chair in Wet Spot. I spent some time with owner Dave and met a couple of new folks. I must have overdosed on gin and sodas because I’d forgotten all about seeing Mary’s school friend, a dancer at Wet Spot until I uploaded the photos from my phone camera this morning.

I can recite a poem off the top of my head, but I can’t remember her name.
I had noticed her long before I met Mary. I think she is amazing looking.
I guess she is sending me a message here–is it “fuck you!” or “fuck me?”

Whatever. Even though I’m embracing the mantle of “player,” I wouldn’t mess around with the friend of someone I’m seeing. I don’t recall doing anything to piss her off, and I assume I bought her a lady drink, but who knows? The look on her face doesn’t convey a “nice to see you” vibe.

I made it home safe and sound, and we’ll see what happens next. Mary has a little sideline business selling snack foods, and I ordered some cookies to hand out on my hikes. She is supposed to be delivering them to me this afternoon. Then, later on, I’ll do the Sunday feeding at Hideaway.

And the wheel in the sky keeps on turning.

Good enough

That’s how my day was. See for yourself.

Started with a 7k valley walk
Three hiking companions joined in the fun
Easter mountain, as seen from the valley floor
Directionless.
We went thataway
Farm living

I mentioned in yesterday’s post that Mary wanted to join me when she finished an after-school event. She sent me these photos:

Some sort of pageant for International Women’s Month
It appears to have been well-attended.
One of the participants
And another
Mary paid (well, technically, I did) to have her make-up done for the event
I’d actually never seen Mary in make-up before she sent these photos. And she washed it all off before meeting me in Barretto.
Although she looks fine without it too

I had planned to start my night out at Cheap Charlies. And on a whim, I’d even baked up a batch of brownies to share with the girls there. But as I walked into town, I decided I didn’t want to have any drama around Nerissa, so I set a course for Hideaway instead. I know they like my brownies there. Everyone was surprised to see me come in on a Friday night, especially Joy. So, the brownies were dispensed, some lady drinks were purchased, and I, of course, downed some gin and sodas. And then Mary messaged that she was on her way, so I said farewell to the Hideaway crew and headed out.

I was ready for some food, and since John’s place was in close proximity, I told Mary to meet me there. We headed upstairs together, ordered some drinks (we both do the gin and soda combo now), and perused the menu. Mary professed not to be that hungry, so I ordered the beef bulgogi for us to share and an order of Korean-style chicken wings. The bulgogi comes with rice, and to my surprise, Mary said she doesn’t like rice. She’s the first Asian I’ve met who feels that way. So, I substituted the rice with cole slaw.

The bulgogi. Mary loved it.
And eight chicken wings. They were good, but we had four leftovers, and I gifted them to our waitress.
And the star of the show.

After our meal, I took Mary to Bar Barretto to hear some live music. Alas, the band was not due to start for another hour, so we went next door to Mugshots instead. It’s a cozy little bar I haven’t been to for quite a while. We were the only customers, and Mary and the bartender chatted away in Tagalog. Mary told me later that the bartender mentioned she was only the second woman she had seen me with (the other being my long-ago ex, Marissa). I guess that makes me a part-time player. But it also goes to show that gossip amongst the gals is a really big thing in these parts.

I’d had my fill of alcohol by now, so we took a trike back to my place. I made us a smoothie, and the next thing I remember is waking up next to Mary in the wee hours of the morning. She woke up too, and was feeling frisky. A nice way to start the day!

I baked some banana-walnut muffins to go with our morning coffee; then, it was time to walk the dogs.

The boys seem to enjoy Mary’s company as much as I do, and she also seems rather fond of them.

After the walk, I made us a breakfast burrito (well, it was my regular burrito, I just served it for breakfast). That went down well, too. Mary took the TV remote and started playing some tunes on the YouTube channel. I commented on the fact that the music she was enjoying was older than she was. She agreed, saying that music from her generation was too crude for her taste, and she preferred hearing the songs her grandparents had played.

When it was time to go, I told Mary she could join me at the Savers Appliance store and pick out a refrigerator for her house. She was, of course, pleasantly surprised. One thing that I appreciate about Mary is that she doesn’t ask for or seem to expect cash from me. I don’t give her money after our dates because I don’t like the feeling of our time together being on a quid pro quo basis. I was happy to gift her a fridge I knew she needed, knowing it would make her life a little easier.

While we were shopping at Savers, Mary’s grandmother, who lives nearby, came to the store to see Mary and meet me.

Two things stand out–the grandmother is actually YOUNGER than me! And, of course, her dark skin.

If I recall the story correctly, the grandmother’s father is an African-American Navy vet who was stationed here in the 1960s. It’s a funny world.

The shopping experience at Savers was not very pleasant because everything took forever to process, and none of it made any sense to me. Mary reminded me to remain calm and remember that I was in the Philippines. Of course, yes, I needed to accept the Filipino way. In addition to the refrigerator, I bought Mary a microwave oven. That should make her kitchen time more convenient too.

I will give Savers credit for prompt delivery.
Enjoy your new appliances!

Oh, Mary told me that her grandmother had asked her three times now if I was her boyfriend. Mary told her, “not yet,” which was something of a relief. I told Mary I’m not into labels like “BF/GF and all the baggage and expectations that come with those terms. I said I have enjoyed her company and spending time with her, and that was enough for me. She put a heart emoji on that comment, so hopefully, we are on the same page. Hey, I’m a “player,” after all; I can’t go around calling someone my girlfriend!