It’s Hash Monday morning, so I’m posting early. Leaving at 0900 to mark the trail and I doubt I’ll be back home afterward. My thinking now is I’ll get a short time room (and maybe a massage) at our On-Home venue, Hunter’s Jo Inn. More on that tomorrow.
I’ve said before that Barretto, at least for the foreigners living here, is like an amazing retirement community catering to the needs of us oldsters. Of course, those needs may be considered atypical from the stereotypes folks expect of the old and decrepit, but to each his own I suppose. Barretto has much to offer and it is not all about sex and debauchery. This is not to say they aren’t available but for many of us expats that is not the primary attraction.
Last evening was an interesting (to me) example of retired life here and got me thinking about the give and take that makes it work for me. I began my night by popping into the Kitchenette to say my hellos. There were no customers at the moment so I invited the gals from the bar across the street (Alaska) to have dinner on me. They happily accepted.
At least the ones without a mask were smiling…
Next, I moved on up the highway and dropped into Marick’s. Only two girls working and no other customers but me, so I was pretty popular. I was feeling a little hungry, so I ordered up some takeout from the restaurant next door for the three of us.
Good stuff!
I finished my night at Cheap Charlies where a couple of my favorites provided some comforting TLC in the form of a back rub. Very talented hands!
You are not going to find that kind of service provider in your typical American retirement home.
A quiet and relaxing Sunday night. It may not seem like much but it was a pleasant experience. Made the gals happy and they returned the favor. I’d call that a win!
Anyway, that trail isn’t going to mark itself, so I’d best get after it. Naturally, it has started raining just now which will make the task much more difficult. Oh well, nothing I can do about the weather.
Life is good and dying is the last thing I’m going to do. Hopefully not anytime soon.
Yesterday to be precise. I mentioned the scouting hike already, but I’ll share a few photos from that event later in this post. Played darts last night at Alley Cats. A singles tournament, but that’s fine by me. Win or lose it’s on me that way. I did a little of both yesterday.
I finished in third place overall, losing to Nancy twice. She’s a solid player and threw exceptionally well in the tourney. I was inconsistent as usual, but I had moments of brilliance too. In my match against Kevin, I opened with a ton-80 (three triple 20s), the best possible score. And then in the cricket leg, I threw a 9-mark, the best you can do in that game. I’ve thrown a few 180s and 9-marks over the years, but I don’t recall ever having thrown one of each in a single match. Didn’t play well enough to make the finals, but still not a bad night of darts.
After the tourney, I went over to Mango’s. I was hungry for those pork chops, but alas, there were sold out. So I stopped at the Kitchenette and they fried me up a couple of chicken wings. Good enough.
That was my night. Hardly worth posting about, but I’ve never let that stop me. Here are a few pics from my hike:
Heading out the way we will be coming back on Monday’s Hash. Our mission was to find a good way to connect to the portion of the trail we scouted on Wednesday.Dead people stacked up beside the road. Kind of like those mounds in Korea, right Kevin?Our first attempt to get to the top was stymied by a dead end. We had better luck the second time. The view from up there.The up we did (which will be the down on Monday) wasn’t so bad. But that damn grass was painful. Sharp edges that scratched up my legs and arms and left them itchy as hell. I’ll be arguing with my co-Hares that we should find an alternative on Monday.A nice view of Easter Mountain’s ass side.Passing through a village on the way back down.The neighborhood dump. It’s disgusting and probably unhealthy. But if there is no trash pickup from the city, I’m not sure what alternative there is. I’ve seen people burning trash too, but somehow that seems worse.Boats on the river.
Once we reached the highway, a trike pulled up and offered us a ride. We had parked the Hash truck at Hunter’s Jo Inn, the On-Home location for Monday, about 3K away. How much, we asked, and the driver said 50 pesos. Fair enough, so off we went. Upon arrival, I gave the trike driver 50 pesos and he said the fare was 50 pesos each. Bullshit. I went behind the trike to get a picture of his license number and saw that it wasn’t even a registered trike. Anyway, we just ignored his demands and went inside Hunter’s Jo to have a beer with the owner.
And that concludes this historical episode in the journey of Long Time Gone.
…makes you stronger. I don’t know about that, but here I am, alive and kicking!
I guess all that gloom and doom this morning was for naught. I ain’t complaining, mind you. Did some heavy breathing and got soaked with sweat, but nothing unusual on the scouting hike today. Since I’m still alive we can Relive it together:
I’ll be one of the Hares for Monday’s Hash, along with Scott and Jim. So we took the Wednesday Walkers along on a little trail scouting expedition yesterday. We are starting out from the Waltermart on the far side of Subic town, climbing a mountain, then working our way back down to the On-Home venue in Calapadayan. Going to be around 6K once it is done. Of course, one of the aspects of scouting is finding the best way to go and we had a couple of detours and dead ends along the way. Jim is going back out on Friday to work out the kinks and then we will mark the Hash trail on Monday morning.
What I especially like about this trail is that we rarely Hash this far out, so the experience will be new for most of the Hashers. I know I enjoyed seeing some different views as we worked our way up and over the mountain. Here’s what the area looks like:
The trail so far. That area in the upper left is a HUGE subdivision of moderately priced duplexes that are starter homes for many Filipinos.We took the bus from Barretto to Subic town. It works like a Jeepney–just flag them down, pay your fare (15 pesos/30 cents), and ride in relative comfort.Gathering on the highway……and we are on our way!Over the river……and through the backstreets and alleyways of Subic.I don’t predict a happy future for these pups.Off in the distance isFiesta Homes, the subdivision I mentionedAnother view of Fiesta Homes.Let the climbing begin.In the jungle.That would be me bringing up the rear. As usual.A view from on high.A group shot on trail.Rural living.Scott’s been Hashing here since 2005 so it is not unusual for him to run into people he knows. But on top of a mountain in the middle of nowhere was still pretty shocking. A resting development.Heading back down.Almost there.The trail was a little overgrown in places.Passing through a friendly village…And then back over the river.Took a Jeepney back to Barretto and had it drop us off at the Kitchenette.Cold beer and what’s that–chicken nuggets? Wow!
Another good day on trail. Should be a good Hash on Monday.
Does real goodness even exist, or is it always compromised by the dividends it pays to the do-gooder?
That’s the title of a post I came across at the Althouse blog. The question is posed in a review of a new novel by Jonathan Franzen called “Crossroads”. I haven’t read this book or anything else by Franzen, but this quote from the review set me to thinking:
To ethicists, that is a question about whether right thinking matters more than right action—that is, whether we should judge people’s goodness based on what they are doing or on why they are doing it. Most of them agree that motives matter: in a perfect world, we would all do the right thing simply because it is the right thing to do. But we don’t, and Franzen repeatedly exploits the gap between what we do and why we do it—which, in fiction, is the gap between plot and character.
Now, I like to think of myself as at least being somewhat charitable. But I acknowledge that even my smallest acts of charity, like giving “mama” a hundred pesos when I see her, are based at least in part on a foundation of selfishness: throwing some money around to help someone in need helps serve to assuage my guilt that comes from living a rich life in a poor country. I don’t know that acknowledging that fact diminishes the impact of my gift-giving; it certainly doesn’t matter to the recipients. But the larger question regarding my motives is perhaps one to ponder. Helping people out now and then certainly doesn’t magically make me a nice guy.
Take yesterday for example. I spent about $100. at the grocery store on things to be used in the Kitchenette. I have no expectation of ever being paid back, but my continued support of the business might help it become profitable to the extent that my help is no longer needed. I do get a measure of satisfaction from my involvement in creating something that didn’t previously exist. I also enjoy seeing people getting employment opportunities and a chance to better their lives. And amongst those groceries that I purchased were a bag of frozen chicken nuggets and french fries–food I can enjoy when I stop by after my nightly bar crawl. I don’t know if the “what’s in it for me?” aspect diminishes the value of the gift, but in the end, I don’t think it matters either.
Yesterday afternoon I had a visit from one of the gals I’d advanced 1000 pesos for future “massage” services. I was somewhat surprised to get her message that she was ready to come over. As background, she’s a person that was constantly begging for money to cover various emergencies, paying the bills, and feeding her children. After a while, I grew tired of the seemingly endless requests and was ready to just cut her off completely. But before I blocked her permanently I offered her the opportunity to participate in the Friends With Benefits Program–you help take care of my needs, I’ll help take care of yours. I didn’t actually expect her to accept those terms, but I guess her desperation led her to agree. Anyway, I wasn’t really in the mood for anything physical yesterday. Instead, we chatted some, cuddled a little bit, and touched each other in a non-sexual way. It was nice and I compensated her in the same amount I would have done for “full service”. Do I consider that an act of charity? No, of course not. My support does make life better for her and her kids and I feel good about that. That I get something in return doesn’t negate that fact. I’m not saying it makes me a nice guy or worthy of praise, but then again, people helping each other satisfy their needs is nothing to be ashamed of either.
Last night I played darts at Alley Cats. My partner and I took first place.
I didn’t throw my best game, but we did a good job covering for each other’s weaknesses. Good enough to win at least.
After the above photo was taken, I gave my partner my share of the winnings. Really no big deal to me, but it made her night–probably doubling her daily salary. Which says more about how low her pay is than it does my generosity. No other motive on my part but to make her happy. Seeing that smile made me feel good too, so I guess maybe it was another case of quid pro quo.
Anyway, that’s just an aspect of life here. Lots of people in need and you can’t help them all. Selfish fuckers like me have to find a way to pick and choose when and where to provide assistance. Upon reflection, I don’t think my actions are praiseworthy. But I don’t feel bad about my methods either. Maybe that’s not “real goodness”, but the results are real good for everyone involved. And that’s good enough.
That’s how it felt on yesterday’s Hash. What started out as a few sprinkles turned into a deluge that went on and on and on. The hardest rainfall I can recall hiking in. The downpour lasted for the first half of the trail we took, and it was a steady, but lighter rain, the rest of the way. It did stop prior to the after Hash On-Home activities, so there is that at least.
My “sane” group of Hashers actually took a longcut at the beginning–walking the 2K or so to the trail start rather than ride in the back of the Hashmobile. We had a map of what the Hare had prepared, and we planned to do one or two of the hill climbs he had laid out. Of course, the rain washed those plans away. Along with nearly all of the trail markings. Chalk and powder just don’t stand up to torrential rain. When we reached the designated start point you could barely make out a faint chalk arrow. The Hare, Leech My Nuggets, is one of the best at marking a trail. So we knew then there was no trail left to follow. We were already soaked to the skin anyway, so we just continued on and found our own path. Wound up doing 6K which was a challenge given the conditions. All the Hashers who rode out in the truck pretty much just turned around and walked back when they couldn’t find the intended trail. Oh well, just one of those days.
Given the wet weather, I had to keep my phone bagged up in plastic as did the other photo takers. Pubic Head got a few at least:
In the beginning.We weren’t going to be cowed by the rain.The official starting point of the trail. Not much left to follow though…Kids out playing in the rain got rewarded with some cookies…Shelter from the storm.On-Home at Smoke and Bottles in Subic.Rumor has it that Subic has imposed a ban on alcohol.Keeping things in balance.Hashers on ice, rain or shine.Cum In My Basement and mestopped in a Jollibee for some grub after the Hash.
And that’s the way it was. I guess I should just count my blessings.
Greetings fellow travelers on this journey we call life. Here’s a quick update on mine.
Last night I did my usual beer-drinking ritual. I once again began my imbibing at Marick’s place. I did so, in part at least, because I’d received a rather cryptic message from Marick regarding her landlord’s refusal to extend her lease. Wanted some clarity on whether that meant closing down at the end of the month or not. Not as it turns out. She has until the end of October to find a new location. Now, the current venue is tiny, seating only three or four customers semi-comfortably. Most nights I’ve been there she has two or three guests. That’s probably enough to support the low rent for her small space. Unfortunately, the larger spaces she has been looking at are significantly more expensive. There is some question as to whether the limited expat market could generate sufficient clientele to pay the rent. Most bars in town are really struggling without the normal tourist influx. Hard to say when the powers that be will wise up and open the country once again. Meanwhile, small business owners like Marick will be in a pickle.
Anyway, I had a few beers and bought the waitresses a pizza from the shop next door. And of course, some lady drinks to wash it down. Then I moved on to Cheap Charlies for more liquidy goodness. I don’t go there much these days but was greeted like a long-lost friend by one of my favorites there.
Good to see you again, too!
Naturally, I rewarded her with some lady drinks and a nice tip when I departed. And depart I did because hunger beckoned and The Pub had a weekend special on steak tacos.
Damn, they were fantastic.
I also had a pleasant chat with my waitress while I was waiting for my order.
Watching her eat that banana caused a pang of hunger in me that the tacos could not satiate.
Oh well, another time perhaps. This morning, I decided to do breakfast out on Baloy Beach. It had been a while since I’ve ventured out that way, so I dropped into my old favorite, Treasure Island. Friendly greeting from the owner who is also practically my next-door neighbor (there is a vacant house between us) here in Alta Vista. Alas, his kitchen didn’t open until 8:00 and I wasn’t in the mood to wait. Walked up the beach to Blue Rock and sat down at an empty table. Waitress came by and dropped a menu in front of me then walked off without a word. I made my choice and waited for her to return to take my order. And waited. I looked around and didn’t see her. Finally, I just said “fuck it”, got up, and walked out. Didn’t see her as I departed either. Weird. So, I wound up at Harley’s and had some Swedish pancakes for breakfast.
They came with this view.
Two of the gals who provide “massage” service contacted me about emergencies they are currently experiencing. One needs money for her electric bill or her power will be shut off today. The other wanted milk money for her daughter. I agreed to give them each a 1000 peso advance on future wages. One of them arrived within a few minutes of my returning home from breakfast. The other came about an hour later with her kids in tow. That’s a pretty good hike for the little ones from her place. Anyway, if I never see either again I’ll consider the money as a charitable donation. I expect they’ll be back though. They know a sucker when they see one.
And now it is time to shower up and prepare for today’s Hash adventure.
What a life I’m living, eh?
This made me chuckle:
“Fuck a duck, screw a pigeon, go to hell with no religion.” Anyone else ever say that when you were a young smart-ass?
I did my normal Sunday walk this morning. What made it unusual was about 1K in, I felt the urge to poop. Now, I’m a regular guy and I normally take care of business before I even finish my morning coffee. Today was no different. That is why I was surprised by the pressure I was feeling in my bowels. So, what to do? Turn around and head for home? Lately, any excuse to postpone a hike is welcomed, but today I didn’t want to give up. And even though I was on the National highway, finding a place to take a dump was not in the cards. The gas station I passed had a urinal-only men’s room and the lady’s room door was locked. So, I decided to just hold it all in and continue my hike as planned. The pressure mounted, and I was afraid to even pass gas for fear of the dreaded shart. Around the 4K mark, I was on the GOVIC highway and knew I wasn’t going to make it. Plan B was to find some woods and make like a bear. That proved to be easier thought than done. I was going to need some privacy, and that meant getting off the road. But the first couple of footpaths I spotted led to houses and no cover. At last, I picked a spot alongside a building that featured a bush blocking the view from the highway. Just as I was lowering my shorts, a dog appeared and began loudly barking at me. Fuck. This wasn’t going to work either.
I moved another 50 yards or so up the highway and spotted what appeared to be a little-used and overgrown path. I took it far enough to be away from the road and with no time to spare dropped my pants and shit on a rock. I bearly made it. It occurred to me that this was the first time in all the years I’ve been hiking, both here and in Korea, that I had found it necessary to crap without the benefit of a toilet. I hope it proves to be the final time. Well, everything came out okay, so there’s that.
Here’s the hike (sorry, no shitty pics) if you want to Relive it:
Nothing real special to report from my Saturday night. I started out at Marick’s, but my favorite bargirl wasn’t working. I was surprised and asked Marick why someone would be off on potentially the busiest night of the week. Marick said it really wasn’t her business to ask the girls why they aren’t coming to work (I disagree with that premise) but she assumed it was an issue with her husband. WHAT!? She has a husband? I specifically asked her that and she denied it. Marick just shrugged. Man, I was pissed and went on a rant. Marick told me to calm down and so I eventually did, but I wasn’t a happy camper. I had seen this girl at my house a week ago and that potentially put me at risk. I confronted her on messenger later and she continues to vehemently deny having a husband. Said she didn’t come to work because she wasn’t feeling well. So now I don’t know what to believe.
Marick from across the street. Maybe I was being a little too loud.
Left Marick’s place and headed over to my regular hangout, It Doesn’t Matter. Crowded with bikers from the local motorcycle club, but I was able to grab the last outside seat. My old new favorite girl, Roan, took good care of me there.
My sausage is special too, Roan!
Just a couple of brews there and I was off to Mango’s for some supper. Sold out of pork chops, so I went with roast chicken and coleslaw. It hit the spot, then I hit the road for home.
I’ve already told you about my shitty morning, so that pretty much brings you up to date. Oh, I did see the eye doctor yesterday too, and the eyes continue to show improvement. The “new” eye is 20-20 and the other one is still not up to speed. I’ve gotten to where I like not having to wear glasses though, so I might just live with it. We’ll see (or maybe not) about that.
Alright then, thanks for bearing with me while I bared my soul. Yeah, I know the difference. It was all about the pun.
But if you try sometimes, you just might find, you get what you need. Not sure why that song popped into my head, but when you ain’t got nothing, you got nothing to lose. Just like a rolling stone.
Alright, I’ll stop now. There’s nothing that I need and still some that I want, but I’m getting my share. I’m certainly doing alright for an old man. And there is more to life than the ladies of questionable virtue anyway. Like beer, hiking, and darts. I had my share of all three yesterday.
Played in the tournament at Alley Cats last night. Warming up, I was throwing worse than usual. I don’t worry about that much because warm-ups rarely reflect actual performance during competition. Except they did last night. We were playing singles so at least I didn’t have a partner to let down and disappoint. It was a little embarrassing to throw that poorly though. Oh well, you reap what you sow. And poor performance is the dividend that comes from my lack of motivation to practice. Now, if I could only find a way to actually care. Stay tuned.
I don’t make it a practice to mess with the girls at Alley Cats either. Well, not in any physical way at least. There is one gal I teasingly call my “sugar baby” and she calls me “daddy”, but it’s all talk. She’s never asked me for a thing and all I’ve ever given her is lady drinks. Anyway, it is fun to engage her in some repartee and she plays along nicely. She’s big into K-dramas and even knows a few Korean words. Her dream is to visit there someday and I’ve thought about how much fun it would be if I ever got the chance to show her around. I doubt that will ever happen, of course, but it’s fun to kid around about it with her.
Meet my baby girl, Jerlyn. Another sweet 23-year-old. While I don’t really think of her in any sexual way, I’m not blind either. But I like the non-physical teasing relationship we’ve established and I reckon we’ll keep it that way.
Since I didn’t make it to the money round in darts that left some hours to fill on my Friday night. So I headed over to Marick’s for some cold beers and flirtatious banter with another 23-year-old bargirl.
This one makes me forget that I’m 66.She’s new to the bar business but has already mastered the art of making the customer feel desirable in an “age is just a number” kind of way.I do think her sweet nature comes naturally though and she does make me feel special when we are together. Don’t worry, I’m not going to do anything stupid. Just having some fun.
And that brings us to yesterday’s hike. We had a good turnout and managed to incorporate some interesting diversions as we traversed the familiar mountain that includes the frequently hiked My Bitch trail. A relatively short 6K, with one significant climb. Well, for half the group anyway. When we got to the junction leading to the second big hill, some of the group opted to stay on the level ground. For me, it’s about keeping it fun. And huffing and puffing and dreading each step ain’t my idea of fun. Anyway, it all worked out and everyone got to do what suited them best. To the photos then:
A satellite’s eye view of our journey.We started the hike from the Alta Vista community center…Cool shade on a hot day.A grassy knoll. No assassins were encountered.Is anyone tired yet?Those expressions don’t lie!Peak season for thatch grass.Hello again, Easter mountain.Does walking in a line constitute pedo-file?Pausing for a group photograph.Life on the mountaintop.Friendly folk. And the kids liked the candy and cookies we handed out.A water view.I crossed that bridge when I came to it.And so did everyone else.The straight and narrow.You can turn left and do another climb, or take the mostly flat road. What’s it gonna be?That’s called voting with your feet.Charles hands out the last of the lollipops…Welcome to Dynamite Dick’s!
And there you have the lowdown on another fine day in the life. If there’s a better retirement community in the whole wide world than Barrio Barretto, I’ve never heard of it. Or maybe it’s just a good fit for me and my lifestyle. Hmm, maybe I’ll go out and drink some beers and contemplate that question. And if I get lonely, I’m sure there is some lovely lady wanting to experience the simple joy of listening to my wit and wisdom. Or so they make it seem. That’s good enough!
A couple of readers had asked to be updated periodically on the status of Maris’ Kitchenette, the canteen I’ve “invested” in. Today marks one month since the lease was signed, so it seems an appropriate time to check in on how things are going.
To begin, the business earned enough revenue to have cash on hand to pay the rent today (12,000 pesos/$240), so there’s that. And to reiterate, I have no interest in the business nor any say in the manner in which it operates. I paid some upfront money for equipment and I’ve purchased some food and supplies during my weekly shopping excursions, but that’s the extent of my involvement. That said, from an outsider’s perspective, the business appears to be doing pretty well. That’s quite an accomplishment during these troubled times.
The target clientele was always intended to be working class Filipinos. That plan seems to be turning out pretty well. She has regular visits from the bargirls at several nearby bars, the dive boat crew from the resort next door, and some of the maintenance staff at the Central Park Reef hotel. The fact that the Kitchenette is getting repeat business is a good sign I think.
And on the weekends she gets some tourist trade as well.
I’ve never actually ordered and eaten anything off the menu there. I’m just not that big a fan of basic Filipino foods (from what I’ve seen, heavy on rice and egg with a little meat on the side). But actual customers do seem to enjoy their meals.
Mama tells me the food is excellent. Of course, she eats for free, but she drops by nearly everyday.She also gets some business from the expat community.
I usually come by at the tail end of my nightly bar crawl. It is actually quite pleasant to sit outdoors and watch the world go by. Well, the part of the world that traverses the National highway out front anyway. Some of the darters drop in after the tournament at Alley Cats too. Of course, this crowd is mostly there to drink beer, a product that the Kitchenette is not technically permitted to sell under terms of the lease. Instead, beer must be purchased from the Beach Please bar in the back on the waterfront. Another option is for folks to bring their own beer with them, which is a cheaper way to go. This week at Royal I bought two cases of canned beer and Maris is providing them to customers upon request. I still make it a point to buy at least one bucket (six bottles) from the bar each time I visit, just to keep the peace. And no, I don’t drink all six, I share them with whomever might be sitting around with me. Anyway, Maris sells the cans for 60 pesos each, so she is at least making a little money off us beer drinkers now.
The other good news is that Maris has hired some helpers. I really like that aspect of the business because it contributes to making a positive impact on the community. Granted, wages are low but some income is better than nothing and many folks have nothing these days.
My sense is this has been a learning curve for Maris and she is working a lot harder and for longer hours (10 a.m. to 10:00 p.m., six days a week) than she expected. She’s going to need some additional competent staff to help reduce that workload some. We’ll see what happens, but it appears to be a “so far, so good” situation.
Speaking of kitchens, I stopped by The Pub last night for a sandwich (roast beef and cheddar, yum!) and John Kim was sorting a big shipment of newly arrive beef cuts.
Man oh man. Tender American USDA prime and choice steaks.
I’ll be firing up the grill this coming weekend for sure!
And speaking of meat, I had some beers at It Doesn’t Matter bar last night.
And as usual, I enjoyed spending some time with Roan. She’s full of wit and can hold up her end of the conversation. I like that!
Yesterday the Wednesday Walkers trucked out to deep in the heart of Subic to hike in some different than usual environs. Club Morocco is a huge subdivision near the Keppel shipyard. Interestingly, it was developed by the same company that created Alta Vista. Club Morocco is probably twice the size of Alta Vista but has far fewer houses. I’d guess less than 10% of the lots have been built on. It’s near the bay with great views but is also very isolated. I actually looked at a house there before I made the move, but couldn’t deal with being so far away from the things that make my Barretto life so convenient. It was a nice place to visit but I’m glad I don’t live there!
A pleasant 8k hike along the waterside and on the streets of Club Morocco.Our merry band of walkers…And we are off!Business was booming at the shipyard.Does this mean we are trailers?Passing through a bayside fishing village.Livin’ the life.There’s something fishy about this picture.Edgewater.You dirty beach!Hut, two, three, four…Not the easiest access getting to this picnic table, but great water views.A fishing vessel.Beach trees.Passing through another village…The high tide required us to get our feet wet…Then we started the day’s biggest climb…The view from halfway up.A brief rest to catch our breath…And then the climb continued.A view from the top.Back on the empty streets of Club Morocco.Hello? Is anybody home?Kate captured the beauty of the day with this shot.Let’s head back to the truck.Kate, Scott, and Shyrel are such posers!Take us home now, Troy!“Eastbound and down, loaded up and truckin’…”It is even more uncomfortable back there than it looks…After hike beers and food at Sit-n-Bull.
It was another nice day in paradise.
Last night I ventured out to Marick’s for a bit. Brought some brownies I baked for my favorite brown knees bargirl. She seemed to enjoy them.
It was nice to make her Happy.
She’s actually sweeter than a brownie. I did the math in my head and when she was born I was only 43. And besides, age is just a number. And I identify as thirty years old. And I’m a lesbian trapped in a man’s body–I love women! So, check your privilege and don’t be a bigot!
Ah, the life of a retired expat in a country filled with sweet young things looking for love. Or a handout. Or both. Let’s make a deal!
Monday’s Hash was a real throwback for me. I actually enjoyed the trail and didn’t even find it necessary to shortcut. The best thing was not dragging ass, breathless and light-headed, during the hike. Maybe taking the day off on Sunday was not such a bad thing after all. The trail was only 6K, but it had two climbs of moderate difficulty. What I liked best though was a good portion of the trail was first-time territory for me. It’s good to see something new for a change. Let’s do the photos, shall we?
Demolition Derby was the Hare and did a great job–well marked and challenging without being crazy hard or dangerous.The first up was not new, it was the “road” leading to Kalaklan Ridge. I’m not sure this photo really captures what’s going on here. Apparently, people just dump their garbage upstream and it washes on down. So the garbage and dirt are irrevocably joined together in a filthy mess.The sane group of Hashers was greatly reduced in number for this hike. We took a Jeepney to the trailhead at the Ocean View Resort. I hung back with ISD (Steve) who was recovering from something or other and moving slower than usual.A view of Olongapo City from the ridgeline…And the thatch grass is in full bloom.On-On!I’ve never been here before…I like it!This way to the second climb!Made it to the top!Poor Steve was really struggling after the second climb. I don’t like to stop even when I’m tired because I stiffen up. But Steve needed to sit and catch his breath some and the sane Hashers have got to stick together!An estate on the mountain.One way we crossed the stream……and another.More like purgatory.Waiting for Steve…Candy and cookies for the kiddies…Getting back to the roots on this trail.The final slog…Then On-Home at Blue Butterfly…Engaging in the delicate process of rehydration.
A chance to Relive the hike if you’d like:
It was a good day for feeling good on trail. I was the last one back (again) but I don’t care. I was too busy enjoying myself to be in a hurry.
Or so I keep telling myself. Actually, reminding myself is more accurate. I’ve wasted time in the past not enjoying the blessings that surrounded me, instead only focusing on my regrets. My last year in Korea is a prime example of that blind ignorance. Well, no more and never again is my attitude now. Each new day is the best day I have and I’m not going to fritter it away worrying about shit that is beyond my control anyway. I know I’ve said it before but it bears repeating–how can I not love this life I’m living? Just walking the dogs and seeing the mountains fills me with contentment. This morning I recalled telling someone about why I liked living in Columbia, SC–two hours from the mountains and two hours from the beach. He responded, “why not pick what you like best and live there instead of being two hours away?” These days, I have both right outside my door.
I treated myself to lunch at Mango’s today and enjoyed this view.
Well, to be more accurate, I treated myself and a lady friend to lunch at Mango’s today. She’s someone I’ve been acquainted with for a while and wouldn’t mind getting to know better. She’s been going through a transition from bartending to factory work on the old Navy base. She’s asked for some financial assistance to pay for medical and other requirements. A little here and a little there and now we are up to 10,000 pesos ($200.) I’ve been unresponsive to recent hints that she wants/needs more. Until last night when she sent me a message saying “Can I pawn myself to you? HaHa!” That was a new concept to me, but I answered “Yes, friends with benefits”. She did another “ha ha” in response to that. She came back with “how much you pay to pawn me?” Well, I was busy drinking at the Hash and never got around to responding.
This morning she sends this message: “Sorry for what I told you last night…hehehe. I’m crazy…mental block.” I told her not to be sorry and that I was trying to figure out how to afford her. She laughed again and said, “you know my priority now–just tell me.” I responded that I was ready if she was willing. “Of course” was her reply. So, I invited her to lunch and she agreed to meet me at noon. Exciting times, eh?
Well, not so much. She didn’t arrive until 12:45 and said she wasn’t hungry. She also advised she had a medical test to do back in Olongapo at 2:00. What the hell? Why accept a lunch date, come late and not want to eat, and then have to leave in less than an hour? This wasn’t going well. I ordered a salad and she wound up getting some lumpia, ate a couple of bites, and took the rest to go. Alright then, down to business. “Tell me about what is involved in being pawned to me?” She laughed nervously and said “that was just a joke. Did you really take me seriously?” Um, we are here, aren’t we? Okay, it was all a misunderstanding. My bad. Paid the bill, gave her 20 pesos for Jeepney fare, and said our goodbyes. Man, that’s about as close to breaking Rule #1 (don’t be a sucker) as it comes.
The icing on the cake was getting back home and having the gal who stood me up for a massage yesterday messaging me. Seems her nephew was in an accident, that was why she couldn’t come as scheduled. I wished him well. Then she came back and wanted to “borrow” 1000 pesos for medicine. I’d had enough of this bullshit by then, so I just said “let’s boom-boom instead. 3000 pesos and keep the 1000 you already owe me.” Well, that shut her up. No response at all. Guess the “emergency” wasn’t as critical as she led me to believe.
And yes, I know I’m the asshole in all of this. In my defense, I can only say that the constant begging has just exhausted my reservoir of goodwill. If you’ve got nothing to give, neither do I.
Anyway, back to my original point. I’m living my best life. I’m making the rules that suit me. If you don’t like my terms and conditions, don’t ask for my help. I have no bad feelings towards anyone regarding their choice. And I am still spending my charity budget every month with no expectations of anything in return. I’m just feeling no guilt about not giving handouts to predators.
Well, damn. I had intended this to be a prelude to my weekly Hash report. It was a good trail and I felt better than I have while hiking in quite some time. Did the whole trail too, if you can imagine that. But my ramblings above have run out the clock and now I must prepare for the dart tournament. Tomorrow will be a “pure” Hash post with plenty of pictures. Promise!
In the meanwhile, thank you for your indulgence. Who else am I going to tell about these shenanigans?
And tomorrow we might not be together I’m no prophet, no I don’t know nature’s way So I’ll try to see into your eyes right now And stay right here, ’cause these are the good old days.
Well, I guess if you don’t have a bad massage now and again you can’t appreciate the good ones. As I mentioned in yesterday’s post, I gave “Happy” a tryout yesterday and she was clueless. She had told me she knew how to massage but it was more like a back rub. In fact, I had to ask her if she was going to do my legs. She seemed surprised, “oh, you want your legs massaged too?” Ah well, nothing ventured nothing gained. I tried to get some cuddle time in but she didn’t seem comfortable with that. No problem. I got up and got dressed.
As I was paying her, I explained the various levels of compensation I provide based on services rendered. A straight massage is 500 pesos (plus tip). Providing a happy ending ups the ante to the 1000-2000 range, depending on the method used to bring about a satisfying result. I also mentioned that I give 3000+ for boom-boom. She said “okay”. Which I took to mean she understood, but it turns out she wanted the sex option. It was my turn to be surprised.
Now, Happy is 23 years old with two kids. But when I got her undressed and into bed, she just wanted to lay there like a starfish. I tried to spark some interest with oral which just made her squirm around and try to push my head away. I may not be a master with my tongue, but I’d never been refused either. Happy told me it was the first time for her. Hmm. Well, if she didn’t want my mouth I figured I’d try hers. Nope, she’d never done that before either. Or so she says. I don’t think she was pretending though–my impression from her physical responses to my touch was that she just doesn’t like sex. Well, I don’t like sex with a partner who can’t even fake a little enthusiasm, so I just told her never mind. I’m not sure how she wound up getting pregnant twice.
Weird experience.
I actually had previously scheduled another massage for this morning. She was supposed to arrive at 0900. Around ten she messaged that she had an “emergency” and couldn’t make it after all. The back story here is that she needed money for food on Friday and asked that I pay her in advance for today’s massage. Well, let’s just say that her failure to appear today was not a complete surprise. And she’s fired now, of course.
What do you say when a Filipina exits your life for one reason or another? “Next!”
Anyway, it’s Hash Monday so I reckon I can just walk it off. Lamenting first-world problems in a third-world country is a silly undertaking anyway. I’m living the dream!
Another day in the life and another post here at LTG. All is right with the world!
Well, I’m still not quite right. Stamina and energy are at low ebbs lately. I managed a 9K solo walk yesterday but it was a struggle. I kept trying to talk myself into taking a shortcut or even, heaven forbid, cheating and taking a trike back home. In the end, I prevailed over the evil thoughts and completed my hike as originally intended.
I also had good intentions for a similar hike this morning. All the way through putting on my hiking shoes. But then I couldn’t manage to drag myself out the door and do it. My only bad excuse is that I got winded on a short incline walking the dogs this morning. So, I convinced myself to give it a rest. I do feel guilty about it though.
I guess I’ll just have to settle for the view from my balcony.
“Happy”, my new favorite bargirl, is scheduled to perform massage services for me for the first time later this afternoon. I’m not sure what to expect but that’s fine too. Straight massage or something extra will be entirely up to her. And the level of compensation I provide will vary accordingly. She’s a cutie though, and I’m looking forward to her hands on my tired old body.
I popped into the Kitchenette last night. The place was hopping, at least in terms of beer drinkers. Unfortunately, Maris is not allowed to sell beer under the terms of her lease. Beer is purchased from the beer bar down on the beach which is also owned by Kitchenette’s landlord. I guess it is not that big a deal, the Kitchenette had a big day on food sales, but it’s a bit of a pain in the ass to hike down for buckets of beer at 70 pesos per bottle. In fact, the bar actually ran out of beer before the Kitchenette closed, so we bought beer from the small store nearby at only 45 pesos a bottle. That might be the way to go in the future.
Beer drinkers doing what beer drinkers do.
For those of you who enjoy photos from my walks, here are a few from yesterday’s adventure:
The stats from the hike.My new look, sans glasses, as I head out.Leaving my neighborhood…And entering another.Good morning, Easter mountain!Down in the valley…Over the river and through the hills…Wide open spaces.Whatever it was I was trying to capture with this shot was a failure.Ah, back on the National highway again. The checkpoint has created yet another traffic jam.Stopping by my favorite ATM to refill the wallet.And home again at last.
But that was yesterday, and yesterday’s gone. You can Relive it here though if you so desire:
That’s all for now. Thanks for stopping by. And don’t forget to check out Kevin’s walk blog. Great photos from Day 1.
It's like I'm sitting at a bus stop waiting for a train
Exactly how I got here is hard to explain
My heart's in the right place, what's left of it I guess
My heart ain't the problem, it's my mind that's a total mess
With these rickety old legs and watery eyes
It's hard to believe that I could pass for anybody's prize
Here's what I know about the gifts that God gave
You can't take 'em with you when you go to the grave
Every once in a while I’m out on a solo hike listening to a random playlist on Spotify a song pops up that knocks my socks off. That’s how it felt anyway when I heard “It ain’t over yet” by Randy Crowell this morning. I’m a little embarrassed to admit I’d never heard of him or the song before. When I checked him out on Wikipedia I was surprised to learn he’s been around a long time and is highly regarded in country music circles. Hell, he was even married at one time to one of my favorites, Roseanne Cash. I’ve been out of touch with American culture for a long time now and it shows.
Here in my insular little world, life continues in much the same way that it does every day. I’m happy to report that my eyesight seems to be improving day by day. I don’t even miss my glasses, although I still instinctively reach for them from time to time.
It’s also nice waking up to a beautiful morning. The air is clear again. Blue skies, scattered clouds, mountains in the background, and of course, the blue waters of the bay. I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of the views, and the scenery is a damn fine anti-depressant. I look around and think, “what do I have to feel bad about? I’m a lucky man!”
As seen from my dog walk this morning.
There are even interesting things to see when the sun goes down. Like last night at Marick’s:
No idea what that was all about. Rest assured, my ass was not involved.
Alright then, I promised some photos from yesterday’s group hike and I’ll get to them in just a sec. But first, in case you missed it, Kevin Kim has started his long trek from near the DMZ to Busan along the east coast of Korea. So, my walks are nothing compared to that, but I really enjoy following along on his walking adventures. He’s also got great photos and commentary on his journey. Kevin created a special blog for this purpose and you can travel with him at Kevin’s Walk 5.
My Friday group of hikers did a 6k march yesterday which carried us about 2/3 of the way up Kalaklan Ridge, then across the hillsides overlooking Rizal Extension, and finishing up on My Bitch back into Alta Vista. I’ve got to say, I’m still not 100% and it was a struggle at times to keep moving forward. My hike mates said I looked a lot better than I did on Wednesday, so that’s encouraging at least. To the photos then:
Our hilly course.We met up at the corner of Rizal and Banaba streets.Our group for the day.Oddly enough, the slow ascent on the pavement is harder for me somehow than climbing the trails…Which is not to say that the trails are easy…far from it for these old lungs…One of the perks of altitude is the nice view.We interrupted the woman (lower right) doing her laundry in the creek. Excuse us, please!Onward!Downward.Martin in the woods.I’ve heard of a pig in a poke, but here’s a pig on a rope.A pretty impressive waterfall…The bridge.Well, if it holds Martin……I shouldn’t be a problem.A dog whose suffering will soon be over. I don’t understand how people can be so cruel. If you are too poor to care for a dog properly, don’t get one.Valley view.Kids at home.My cookie regulars always seem to know when I’m in the area.In the weeds.This post ain’t going anywhere, rolling or otherwise. So the moss grows.
That brings y’all up to date. We will see what Saturday night has in store for me.
It ain't over yet, I'll say this about that
You can get up off the mat or you can lay there till you die
It ain't over yet, here's the truth my friend
You can't pack it in and we both know why
It ain't over yet
I’m going to have to keep this post short and sweet (is that cheering I hear?) because I’m operating on battery power. No electricity for at least a couple more hours during this scheduled “brownout”. The worst part is that I have no water. In the old house, a lack of power meant no hot water but here because there’s a water pump I get no water at all. Did a group hike up in the mountains this morning, so I’m a smelly old thing right now. I’m going to forego darts today in deference to the other patrons in the bar.
I did my standard bar crawl (Marick’s, It Doesn’t Matter, and The Pub) last night. Well, The Pub was about eating more than drinking and I went with the chicken enchiladas.
Excellent as usual. Spicier than what I’m used to as well. That salad on the side worked like a fire extinguisher for my tongue.
I had a discussion in the comments not long ago about the pitfalls of messing with a married woman in this country. It’s a crime for one thing. But it also puts you in a position to be blackmailed and extorted. The Filipina Pea has an informative video about what can go wrong that you may find interesting. I did. Especially since that married woman continues to harangue me about wanting to meet. This is a good way to remind myself to NOT have a weak moment.
Okay, I’ll be back with a bigger and better post tomorrow, featuring photos from today’s hike.
Had a late night yesterday. Well, there is a 10:00 p.m. curfew, so most bars start closing down around 9:30. That’s something I rarely see these days as my normal bedtime is around 9:00. What got into me? Well, quite a few beers. But I also had places to go and people to see.
I started out at Marick’s bar and the place was packed. There were two other guys and me in there. Plus two bar girls and Marick. Did I mention I’ve seen bigger walk-in closets? Anyway, it’s got a good vibe and Marick is looking for something larger. Good luck with that!
I do enjoy Marick’s company. She said she was going to join me at Monday’s Hash but never showed. When I asked her why she stood me up she said “I got busy”. Okay, I get it.Who is the real Filipino in this picture? That was my way of showing my new favorite bargirl “Happy” how light-skinned she is. “Are you brown from the sun?” No, I’m John from the Earth! Old joke but I’m an old fuck.
I said my goodbyes at Marick’s then headed up the street to It Doesn’t Matter. Hadn’t been there for over a week. My old favorite bargirl “Roberta” came out and joined me. A vendor came by and I wound up buying two dresses for Roberta. I did let her know that I was doing this as a gesture of kindness to the poor woman lugging clothes on hangers up and down the street.
I continued making my way up the highway and stopped at Wet Spot, one of my most frequented bars prior to the pandemic. I was on a mission to find the owner so I could repay an act of kindness he had bestowed upon me last year. The best way I knew how was to buy him a drink. Mission accomplished!
Now, Daddy Dave is more than just a man about town. I think of him as the mayor of the expat community. He also heads the Barrio Barretto Business Association and represents the small business community in dealings with the mayor of Olongapo and the barangay Captain. He has successfully worked with city leadership on pandemic-related issues and unlike the surrounding cities which feature alcohol bans, earlier curfews, and other business-killing and totally ineffective policies, Olongapo is open for business. We are lucky to have Dave on our side for sure!
It had been months since we’ve sat and chatted so I was especially pleased to find him last night. We had a good talk about the issues of the day, enjoyed our drinks, and looked forward to better times.
After Wet Spot, I moved on to The Pub. It was Wingsday after all. That’s when I realized how late it was getting. The only other customers left as I was placing my order and the waitresses were cleaning up and preparing to close while my wings were cooking. I caught a trike around 9:40 and was home well ahead of the witching hour.
The eye doc and I had agreed to an early morning appointment to facilitate his travel to Manila to perform laser surgery. My driver picked me and the helper up at 6:00 and we arrived ten minutes before the agreed-upon 6:30 appointment. The security guard said the doctor hadn’t arrived yet. My driver asked, “now what?” and I said let’s go to McDonald’s! Everyone was in favor of that idea. Had the sausage and egg McMuffin and it hit the spot.
Got back to the hospital at a quarter to seven and the guard still wouldn’t let us in. I was getting pissed but managed to refrain from saying anything I might regret later. Apparently, one of the orderlies went upstairs to check, came back down, and said the doctor was, in fact, in the office. The guard relented and let us pass the threshold into the hospital. Good thing, too. I really had to pee.
Anyway, the doctor seemed to think my eyes were progressing normally and verified my supposition that it takes time for the brain to adapt to the input from a properly functioning eye. So, the blurriness at distance is supposedly nothing to be concerned about at this point. I’m to come back once a week for a month for progress checks. If after a month I’m still not seeing clearly I can opt for either glasses or laser surgery. I’ve got to say, I don’t miss wearing my glasses. I still instinctively reach for them on occasion though.
Once I got back home I set the wheels in motion to get a new passport. Mine expires in December and I got it worked out so that my tourist visa expires on the same day as the passport. I’m using a local travel agency to handle all the details, I’d rather pay them $150. than deal with all hassles of getting everything to the embassy in Manila and back. Was told I should have my new passport in three or four weeks.
Had a wonderful massage from my friend “Merideth”. She was pleasantly surprised when I asked her to come over. I really appreciate the fact that she doesn’t pester me and gives good service when called upon. I’m a lucky guy!
But enough about me. Here are those pictures from Wednesday’s hike I promised:
We took a Jeepney to Calapacuan to begin our trek back to Barretto.Some of our group. What’s her name wondered out of the photo and Scott is behind the camera. He took most of these pics in fact.I was struggling even on this modest incline.Working my way up.Through the back alleys…The haunted hospital. Construction never completed.Off the streets and onto the trail. Luckily for me, the climb was short and not steep.Hello, where have you been all my life?I asked.“Most of it not born.” Fine, be that way.Though my problems are meaningless, that don’t make them go away… I certainly have nothing to complain about.A new perspective on Easter mountain.Family time.Cookie time.Two sides of the Filipino coin.Puddle avoidance.
That’s pretty much it. Tomorrow is going to suck though.
I appreciate the headsup, but damn, all f’n day?
Oh well, I’ll get through it.
I appreciate the sentiment, but I seriously doubt Shakespeare ever said that.
Looks like I won’t be eating pumpkin pie anytime soon.
So, I wasn’t feeling keen for a hike this morning, but when “Pam”, the gal I met on the hike last week messaged me asking where the meet-up was, I figured what the hell, don’t want to miss out on seeing her again. I’m not sure you can imagine my surprise and disappointment when she got out of her mom’s car and a young Filipino got out of the back seat. I almost bailed on the hike then and there, but pride wouldn’t let me wimp out.
Pam pretty much ignored me for the duration of the hike. I was slower than usual because of my weakened condition. That provided the vantage point for me to watch them goofing around like young lovers tend to do. Oh well, it just wasn’t meant to be the way my overactive imagination said it could be.
Pam did send me this picture her boyfriend took on the hike. I can’t get over how perfectly it captures my feelings as I walk away from a possible future with her.I’m going to miss that ass I never got to properly know too.
I’ll post more pics from today’s hike tomorrow. Right now, I want to talk about darts. I was anxious to see how my new vision would affect my game. It was the first time I’d ever played in a dart tournament without wearing glasses. Frankly, I was disappointed. Not with the way I threw, although I was off my game, I can’t blame my eyesight for that. That’s just me being me. Prior to the surgery, I was having trouble seeing clearly where my darts had landed–I often had to ask the scorekeeper for clarification. It was no better, and possibly a little worse, last night. Several times during the match I threw and hit one number, but when I went to pull my darts, it wasn’t the number I thought I hit. That really can impact your strategy. In 501 you have to hit a double-out to win, so as you get close to the finish you want to leave your partner an even number to work with. In one game, I threw a 20, then hit a 1 with my next dart. So my third dart was at the 19 to keep things even for my partner’s outshot. Except when I went to pull my darts it turned out that I had thrown TWO 20s, and my third dart had made our score uneven. My partner gave me a “what the hell are you doing look?”.
It’s kind of weird, I can see clearly enough at close range to read, but an object a few feet away, like a dartboard, becomes blurry. I have a follow-up visit with the eye doctor in the morning and I’m going to asking about that. My theory is that my brain and my new eye aren’t in sync just yet but given a little more time I’ll begin to see things more clearly. Either that or I’m going to need new glasses.
Anyway, I was lucky enough to have a good partner to pull my ass out of the holes I dug. We won all of our matches and took home first place money.Good job, Billy!
What else? Well, the Hash beer meister is on an extended trip back to the states, so I volunteered to be the assistant beer meister until he returns.
I don’t drive anymore, but the Hashmobile is parked safely in front of my abode ready to provide transport of beer and Hashers as needed.I’m also providing space for our ice chests and any excess beer that remains after the Hash. Hey, it’s the least I can do. The very least!
And that pretty much brings you up to date. I’ll leave you with this thought:
Something just ain’t quite right about this whole COVID scenario. I’m not going to do as I’m told, I’m going to do what I think is right. To be clear, I’m not opposed to vaccinations and will get one myself when the time is right for me. I have no fear of COVID. I may have already had it. When it’s my time to go, I’ll go. But the kill rate of this particular virus is so damn low it makes you wonder why we are destroying so many lives in order to “save” them.
