Something a little different this morning, breakfast at the Central Park Reef hotel. It’s the newest and finest lodging establishment in Barretto, probably worthy of at least a 4-star rating. The hotel has actually been open for a few months now, but the rooftop restaurant/bar/pool was not completed and ready for customers until last weekend.

The breakfast itself was a bit disappointing. Service was average at best and the food took an inordinately long time to arrive from the kitchen. I had a ham and cheese omelet and it was lukewarm when I got it. I’m going to chalk it up to growing pains/learning curve and give them another try before passing final judgment. But the ambiance was really quite special.

What else? Well, Facebook memories reminded me that four years ago I was enjoying spending time in Cambodia.

Where does the time go? I’ve drunk a lot of beers since then, that’s for sure.

It’s kind of funny, but my Grammarly app doesn’t like the title to this post. It underlined “Up on” in red and suggests I change it to “Upon”. Fuck that!

I had intended to title this post “Up on the roof”, but I checked and saw that I had used that heading way back in 2005. That post was about the view from the rooftop of my apartment building in Hannam-dong, Seoul. Oddly enough I had totally forgotten ever spending time on my roof back then. Damn, maybe my brain’s capacity for memory has maxed out. Good thing I have the LTG archives around!

Well, I’ll be damned. I was going to post the video of that Christmas classic song “Up on the Rooftop” here as a fuck you to Grammarly. Turns out the actual title is “Up on the Housetop”. I honestly don’t recall ever singing it that way, but as I’ve said before, you can’t trust my memory these days.

This will have to do:

Yesterday’s Hare was a Hasher from Angeles City, Two Bottles. I wrote about him in a post last July called “Worst trail ever”. So, I should have known what was in store. In fact, last July I vowed to never do one of his trails again, but there I was. Actually, because it was such a shitty trail I inadvertently missed the worst part of it. Oh well, maybe I learned my lesson this time.

We began things by overloading the truck. This time of year we have more than our usual number of Hashers and the Hashmobile lacks the capacity to transport all those wanting to participate to the trailhead. When I Hare, I will always do a “walk-out” trail. Sure, it limits your options, but to me riding in the back of the truck is always the worst part of the Hash.

The trail started from Rizal Extension and went up the big mountain. Getting to the top is always a tough climb and I don’t blame the Hare for that. There are certainly worse ways to go than the one he chose. The good news for me was my breathing and stamina was much better than it was last week, so there’s that.

So, I get to the top of the mountain and was pissed to see a checkpoint. I ranted about these in the “worst trail ever” post linked above:

Another thing I don’t personally like are checkpoints. This is where at an intersection of paths, the Hare requires you to pursue all possibilities until you find the “true trail”. Now, you might get lucky and guess right the first time. Otherwise you’ll have to walk a hundred yards or so looking for trail marks. If you don’t find any you have to retreat and try the next alternative. If you are in a group you can send one person off in each direction and when (if) they find the trail mark they yell “on-on” and everyone goes that way. It just seems like a pointless waste of time to me, but some Hares and Hashers seem to think it makes for a more interesting trail.

Well, I’m alone at this point but I guessed the trail would go left, so I headed off in that direction. Seeing no trail markings, I turned around and headed in the opposite direction. Nothing that way either. So, in addition to the bullshit checkpoint, it was also poorly marked. At this point, I just said “fuck it” and kept going. I knew a way back down so I made my own trail.

Anyway, I made it down on my own safe and sound. The stories I heard about the trail I missed made me feel like I made the right decision. Very steep and slippery descent, fraught with hazards like barbed wire. I would have been a very unhappy camper had I gone that way. As it was, the last group who took the right trail didn’t get back on-home until a little after 6:00 and in the dark. And I was behind them! No excuse for laying a trail like that. I’m done with you, Two Bottles.

It’s all good.

No, sadly not this cutie:

Things that keep things interesting here in the Philippines besides the women include typhoons, earthquakes, and volcanos. Yesterday, Mount Taal, about 35 miles south of Metro Manila erupted like a horny old retired guy.

Luckily, this is actually one of the smaller volcanos around. Still, it’s impact was felt far and wide.

So, no falling ash for us. But we did experience a definite dilution of air quality.

Anyway, so far no reports of casualties, just a royal pain in the ass for lots of folks. I’m not sure if my scratchy throat and cough are related to the dirty air or not. Could make today’s Hash a bit more challenging though.

UPDATE: Well, I’ll be damned. I’ve used the “Thar she blows” title twice previously. Once in September 2018 about a typhoon blowing through town, and again in October 2012 about a Korean cop blowing his whistle on me for jaywalking. Good times!

I’m not one to brag, but I haven’t lost a darts match since last year. That’s right, I’m undefeated in 2020! Okay, I’ve only played once this year, but still. Perhaps I should quit while I’m ahead.

In another first, I learned that Vincent hails from New Caledonia. I actually had to look that up to learn more about the place. Vincent didn’t really have an accent, but I assume now that he speaks French. Anyway, seemed to be a nice guy and it was an enjoyable evening.

My cupcakes sucked. Almost didn’t bring them because they were so dry. I guess the girls couldn’t deal with the frosting, because they put them in the freezer without even tasting them. I guess to “firm up” the topping. I don’t know. They sat in the freezer all night. Someone finally pulled them out just before I left. Can’t imagine eating a cupcake from the freezer, but whatever. I won’t be baking them again anytime soon, that’s for sure.

And that was my night!

…but I did let go with a SOB. The Sons of Baccus dance competition that is. It had been several months since I last attended one of these weekly events and I was pretty bored with my usual bar routine, so why not? I used to play darts on Friday night at Alley Cats. In fact, I started out there with an intent to play for the first time this year. But it is tourist season and the place was jam-packed and loud. It’s a very small bar and really can’t accommodate that kind of crowd. I was more than willing to depart and make room for the interlopers.

Last night’s SOB was hosted by the Man Cave bar which is a nice enough venue. I got there in plenty of time to score a good seat. The way the SOB works is you pay an entrance fee of P600 ($12.) and drink for free from 6 until 8. They also provide finger food which is nothing to write home about. Of course, the main attraction is the dancers so let’s get on with some pictures, shall we?

After the SOB I went next door to Rum Jungle for the Aftermath party. More raffles there but I didn’t win any prizes. I was drunk enough to take a trike home rather than risk walking down the highway.

I’m going to give darts a try again tonight. And I baked up a batch of cupcakes for the Alley Cats girls. That’s just the way I roll!

Sometimes you just have to accept that the darkness won’t go away. Even when it causes you to lose your biggest fan.

So, at 0500 today I get up to pee. Came back to bed and then *pop* off goes the electricity. I looked outside and all the other houses were dark as well. So, that makes it what they call in these parts a “brownout”. Looks just like a blackout though. Given that it began right on the hour I suspect it was a scheduled brownout. Zamelco (Zambales Electric Coop) says they hope to have power restored late this afternoon. Me too!

In the meantime, I’m operating on battery power for the laptop and relying on my phone in mobile hotspot mode to stay connected with the world. I guess that makes me a survivor, right? Anyway, let me take full advantage of this opportunity to share the pain some tidbits from my so-called life with you my faithful readers.

You can’t help everyone or everything here. And you can’t let that fact overwhelm or discourage you. There are so many in need. All you can do is your best to make things a little better for some. This little guy above was wearing a collar, so I presume he has (or had) an owner. For all the good it did him. He’s obviously not eating right and has lost all his fur to those mites that seem to infest so many neglected dogs around here. I’ve got Buddy and Lucky and that’s all I can handle now. There are two strays that I give scraps to occasionally, it doesn’t make a difference overall, but they seem to appreciate it regardless. I work hard at not letting this shit depress me.

So, let’s take a humor break here, shall we?

Okay, that’s better. What else have I got? Well, this is an “only in the Philippines” kind of thing I think:

The police department responsible for the above said they were attempting to avoid the “victim shaming” paradigm and speak directly to potential rapists. I’d deem it a major fail and at least one women’s organization here called them out for it. I’m still shaking my head.

In more current news, I decided to cook a big dinner yesterday. It had been quite a while since I bothered with firing up the grill. And since I still had leftover fixin’s this was going to be a special occasion I decided to make a batch of Aunt Pat’s Recipe World Famous Fruit Salad.

What did I throw on the grill?

I’d sprinkled on some meat tenderizer and let them marinade in an herb and garlic sauce for two days prior to cooking them up. Also on the menu was a baked potato, some mixed veggies, garlic bread, and the aforementioned fruit salad.

And then I went out for some beers at Cheap Charlies and avoided any bargirl drama. On the way back home I helped a beggar out and bought some treats to share with the stray dogs. Making a little difference, one step at a time.

Maybe I’m feeling better. My sleep score was 75 last night (it was in the 50s last week). And even though I’m powerless right now, I do have a song to keep me in the right frame of mind:

Now some they do and some they don’t
And some you just can’t tell
And some they will and some they won’t
With some it’s just as well

You can laugh at my behaviour
And that’ll never bother me
Say the devil is my saviour
But I don’t pay no heed

And I will go on shining
Shining like brand new
I’ll never look behind me
My troubles will be few

Goodbye, stranger, it’s been nice
Hope you find your paradise
Tried to see your point of view
Hope your dreams will all come true
Goodbye, Mary, goodbye, Jane
Will we ever meet again?
Feel no sorrow, feel no shame
Come tomorrow, feel no pain

Sweet devotion (Goodbye, Mary)
It’s not for me (Goodbye, Jane)
Just give me motion (Will we ever)
To set me free (Meet again?)
In the land and the ocean (Feel no sorrow)
Far away (Feel no shame)
It’s the life I’ve chosen (Come tomorrow)
Every day (Feel no pain)

Today I decided not to do something. Later on I didn’t do something else. Tomorrow I may not do one of a selection of other things.

Ah, the freedom to not do whatever you want that is implicit in retired life! But yesterday I did decide to do some things and now I’ve decided to write about them. I apologize in advance, but you are here anyway, so why not fill the time?

The day started in typical fashion, up before the sun. Grab a cup of coffee and plop down at the desk to see what is going on in the rest of the world. In my email was a message from Kevin Kim passing along some helpful advice on both preventing and dealing with a home invasion. Good stuff and worth sharing here:

In one of those quirky coincidences I also came across this “security advice” I’d posted on Facebook several years ago:

On a more serious note, also in my email was a message from DoD Human Resources asking me to provide an affidavit for an EEO investigation currently being conducted. No, it’s not about me, just something I may have witnessed. And due to confidentially requirements, that’s about all I can say. So I spent some time completing that paperwork. I’m hoping my printer/scanner is working as I need to sign and send it back by Monday.

Back to Facebook, which wanted to remind me of this event in my life:

Did my usual internet trolling around and kind of liked this:

Scott from the Hash (also an early riser) messaged me about sponsoring a hole for an upcoming VFW fundraising event. I of course agreed. This is what my banner will look like on my hole. (That sounds a little sick, doesn’t it?)

Ányway, enough of the internet. Time to feed and walk the dogs. With that chore out of the way, I enjoyed a bowl of cereal and some bacon for breakfast. Afterward, I loaded some pork chops into the slow cooker, seasoned them up, slathered them in cream of mushroom soup, then poured on some ranch dressing. Set the timer for low and let dinner cook itself for the rest of the day.

It being Tuesday meant it was grocery shopping day. My driver arrived in due course and I successfully (with the assistance of my two helpers) restocked the larders. Just about the time I arrived back home I remembered I needed to get my final rabies shot. Damn it, we had driven right past the hospital on base coming back from the grocery store. Ah well, I’d just go later in the afternoon.

Took a nap, wrote about Monday’s Hash on the blog, then hit the streets. I’m giving myself a breather on the 20,000+ step goal for now. Still, I want to do as much as my tired old lungs are comfortable with. I wound up walking to the other end of Barretto (about 2K) and catching a Jeepney back to the old Navy base from there.

A short walk to Baypointe Hospital and went through this procedure for what I hope is the final time:

1. Upstairs to the Outpatient Center. A few minutes in line, then hand my shot record to the nurse. She then has me take a seat in the waiting area.
2. After a while, she hands me three pieces of paper–one for the pharmacy, one for the supply center, and one for the cashier. I’m an old hand at this now so I knew the proper order in which to visit.
3. Pharmacy (downstairs and end of the hall) pulls the meds, annotates my paper, tells me to pay cashier and return.
4. Supply (halfway up the hall and off to the left near the emergency room) pulls the hypodermic needle, annotates my paper, and sends me to the cashier.
5. Cashier (near the stairs back up to Outpatient) thankfully has no line. Processes my paperwork and asks for P2100 (about $42). I pay and get annotated receipts.
6. Back to pharmacy to pick up the now paid for meds.
7. Back to supply to pick up the now paid for needle.
8. Back upstairs to Outpatient and hand the nurse the stuff and the receipts.
9. Nurse takes me to a treatment room, stabs me in the arm, and sends me on my way.
10. Me, walking out with a smile and shaking my head at the wonder of it all here in the Philippines.

Hoof it back to the highway and catch a Jeepney bound for Barretto. It’s a bit after 4:00 p.m. at this point so I have the driver drop me off at Arizona with a hearty shout of “para po!” (stop here, please). Let the drinking commence!

Well, naturally I went out to the Arizona floating bar. Who wouldn’t?

Speaking of the view, I didn’t see my favorite bargirl, Jovie, on board. Oh well, I generously let my waitress have a refreshing drink on my tab instead. After a bit, Jovie and Susan, another gal I met at Queen Victoria, came aboard. And of course, they joined me at my table and naturally, I bought a round of drinks. It seems yesterday was Susan’s birthday and I hadn’t been there to help her celebrate. The implication being that more drinks were in order. What’s a man to do? Accommodate of course! I did have the good sense to bill out (as paying the tab is called here) and catch the raft back to shore. How much did all that fun cost? Just under $40, including tip. And that makes me a big spender. I love this country!

Heading back up the highway towards home I passed Roseanne, who “runs” Queen Victoria, on the street. She asked me where I’d been and I said the Arizona floater, and kept on walking. I had high hopes that Queen Victoria would live up to its potential but alas, it was not to be. Roseanne is a big part of the problem. She is very cute and pretty sweet but otherwise clueless. Her boyfriend owns the bar, but he’s back in the UK. He’d hired Fei, a Hash friend, to manage the place in his absence and she was making some progress in making the bar viable. But apparently, Roseanne didn’t like not being the top dog and ran Fei off. Now, why is any of that my business? It’s not, my business as a customer is drinking beer. And I was a pretty regular customer for Queen Victoria. Last Thursday night they ran out of my preferred beverage, San Miguel Zero (a low carb, low alcohol blend). I popped in Friday night and they were still out, so I went somewhere else. When I came back Saturday and they still had zero Zero, I asked what the problem was and Roseanne just shrugged and said “out of stock”. I told her that was bullshit, every other bar in town has it. And made a point of saying I’d be going to one of those other bars from now on.

And so I have. Apparently, without Fei around no one can be bothered to order supplies. Oh, at the Hash on Monday I asked the Secretary if we’d be going back to Queen Victoria for our on-home. He said we were scheduled to go back next month. I told him good luck without Fei there. He was surprised by that news and said, nope we won’t be back in that case.

Anyway, as I passed by Cheap Charlies I decided to head on up for some more liquid refreshment. I got a good seat with the highway view I prefer and ordered up. Maya, one of my longtime favorites, came over and said she was sorry again. I told her there was nothing to be sorry about, I was just done with buying her drinks. Shocking? Well, you know I understand how it all works. The girls are good at making you feel special, but in reality, you are just another customer. I get that. But I’ve known Maya for over a year and have gotten to feel somewhat close to her. Even helped her out once financially (a very small amount) and we are Facebook friends, for whatever that’s worth. It’s not worth much apparently.

I’m in the bar alone on New Year’s Eve. That’s kind of depressing. The place was packed and the girls were all busy with customers. That’s fine by me, I’m very content having someone else pay for drinks. A couple of my regulars came by to greet me, which I appreciated. Just before I was finishing my last beer, Lovely came and sat with me which was sweet of her. I asked if Maya was off and got a funny look, and she nodded towards the bar. Where Maya was sitting directly behind me. I turned around and Maya just shrugged. So. At that moment I realized what a farce our “friendship” had been. No greeting, no Happy New Year, no nothing. I wasn’t mad or anything, I just felt like a sucker. Hurt my feelings a little too.

So, I’m just not playing the game with her anymore. No big deal. No hard feelings, in fact, no feelings towards her whatsoever. She needs to up her game to keep guys like me on the hook.

Do those last two stories make me seem petty and mean? I hope not. I’m all about having a good time. And when something spoils my good time (no Zero or no kindness) I look for a good time elsewhere. It’s that simple.

But back to last night at Cheap Charlies. I wasn’t buying lady drinks, but I did see Rica, an old friend from dart league on the other side of the bar and I gave her a wave. She came over and joined me and brought her friend along. Her friend was Heidi. Wow! I wrote about her just one year ago. One of those rare women who just trip my triggers on a first meeting. I had high hopes but alas, they were dashed as those feelings were not mutual.

So, it’s not like I wasn’t aware of what Heidi had been up to, at least peripherally. You see not long after my hopes were crushed I heard through the rumor mill that she was dating Graham, the owner of Cheap Charlies. Of course, I thought of her after hearing about Graham’s massive stroke. By all accounts she was a devoted angel, staying right by his side during his hospitalization. Just confirmed what my instincts back when I met her had told me. She’s a good woman. Well, Graham is back in Scotland now and I don’t think anyone expects he’ll be back. I offered to buy Heidi a beer last night but she politely declined. In an odd quirk, I saw her again this morning when I was walking Baloy Beach. She smiled and hurried on her way. Oh well, I wish her nothing but the best of course.

That was enough of Cheap Charlies for one night. Caught a trike and headed on home. Cooked up some Brussel sprouts and toasted some garlic bread to go with my mushroom pork chops. They were as tender as can be and quite tasty. Some rocky road ice cream for dessert and in bed by 9:00 p.m.

And that’s how I was filling in time yesterday. I know I apologized in advance, but after re-reading this, I should probably say sorry again. I’ve often thought the primary value of this blog is reassuring readers that life could always be worse! I’m not complaining though, I’m doing what I please even if it doesn’t always please me!

When I have ceased to break my wings
Against the faultiness of things,
And learned that compromises wait
Behind each hardly opened gate,
When I have looked Life in the eyes,
Grown calm and very coldly wise,
Life will have given me the Truth,
And taken in exchange–my youth.
–Sara Teasdale

Survived another Hash which these days isn’t necessarily a foregone conclusion. The run was way out in Calapadayan and Leech My Nuggets was the Hare. That could have been an especially bad combination. I was on the fence about doing the trail but in the end decided “fuck it, let’s go”.

The trail itself was almost moderate by Leech standards. There was a long and steady climb up, but it was only somewhat steep in places. The trail itself was not too long, only 5K or so. I did alright on the flats and downhill portions but was panting like a dog in heat all the way up. And moving almost painfully slow, even by my standards. Still, a couple of the older guys were struggling too so I wasn’t alone on the mountain which gave me some confidence or at least reassurance that I wouldn’t be dying alone up there.

After our after-Hash rituals, I took a Jeepney ride back to Barretto and called it an early night. I was exhausted. Not too exhausted to wake up a 0300 for a coughing fit though.

I’m sick and tired of being sick and tired.

Don’t you know I’m still standing better than I ever did
Looking like a true survivor, feeling like a little kid
And I’m still standing after all this time
Picking up the pieces of my life without you on my mind

I’m still standing. Yeah, yeah, yeah
I’m still standing. Yeah, yeah, yeah

UPDATE: Well, I’ve been doing better at not recycling post titles, but I see I used “I’m still standing” way back in February 2019. That was about an earthquake though.

Last night was certainly nothing to write home about. That won’t stop me though. Sorry in advance! A rather typical night in most respects, but in that way at least, it is illustrative of how most of my nights in these parts go. And there’s nothing wrong with that, I’m living big and easy and I’ve got the beer belly to prove it.

So, this is the high season. Which means our little town is brimming with tourists and other part-time interlopers. The residual impact is mostly about bigger crowds in the popular hangouts and the inevitable deterioration in service standards by overwhelmed staff. I’m pretty much philosophical about it though, these guys (and they are indeed primarily guys) probably keep a lot of places in business–the expat community is I suspect too small to support the profit margins of so many businesses in low season. High season pays the bills so I can enjoy year-round entertainment. Fair is fair.

Anyway, I started my evening at the Arizona floating bar a little after 5:00 p.m. I had forgone my normal afternoon walk in a concession to my overwrought lungs, so walking to the far side of Barretto to drink generated some extra steps. I came in at 19,000 for the day, which isn’t bad considering. I do enjoy sitting on the water and watching the sun go down as I drink. Certainly worth the walk!

The bar was pretty crowded, a large and raucous “private” party going on upstairs, and a couple of “two-week millionaires” spending big money on the ladies downstairs. Hey, if these guys are buying drinks for the girls that suits me just fine–I don’t have to deal with lady drink pressure. The only real downside is that all the girls seemed to be otherwise occupied so I had to get up and go to the bar to fetch my own refills. Ah well, no big deal.

After several cold ones, I decided to make way back to shore and see about getting some food in my belly. I really like the Arizona Resort restaurant, but it was packed. I knew the food would be slow coming out of the kitchen so I moved on down the highway. As I passed by T-Rose bar I figured I’d pop in for a quick one and see what was going on. It had been quite some time since my last visit. Basically, there was nothing going on. One other customer and he left soon after I arrived. Bored bargirls playing pool with each other was the only entertainment on offer. A couple of cuties though. I bought one gal a drink out of sympathy as much as anything, finished my beer, and headed back out.

I decided to eat at Sit-n-Bull, my overall favorite restaurant in town. They have a good regular menu and usually some interesting daily specials at reasonable prices. Service is generally outstanding as well, and I’m spoiled by being a regular customer and welcomed by name. Not so much last night though. They were also packed, although I managed to get a seat at my regular outside table. I called out for a menu and one was dropped unceremoniously on the table and the waitress hurried off without taking my drink order. Not a good sign! After waiting a bit I called another waitress out and asked her if things were as busy as they appeared. She gave me a look and admitted the kitchen was “backed up”. I thanked her for her honesty and told her I would find somewhere else tonight.

I wound up at Mango’s and was pleased to see Rhel, my favorite waitress that I secretly crush on, working. As she was leading me to a table another customer called her over to complain about the seafood chowder. I’d had a bowl of that on my previous visit and it was quite tasty. This customer claimed he had found pork in the chowder. I guess that offended his Muslim sensitivities. I was just wondering how he knew what pork tasted like. I don’t recall there being pork in mine. Oh well, while Rhel was busy taking care of him, another waitress took my order. I got my usual grilled pork chop platter, they are always damned good. When they arrived I warned my waitress that there’d better not be any pork in them. That earned me a nervous smile.

My bill totaled P1100 (I had a calamari appetizer and some beers) so I gave the waitress P1500. I was very surprised to see I had 900 pesos in change, so I called her over and said: “my change isn’t correct”. She got a worried look on her face and said: “you gave me P2000”. I told her, no I didn’t, I gave you 1500. She was so surprised! Either at her mistake or by my honesty. She thanked me and said I had saved her from being short. Well, I know some guys who figure they get short-changed a lot and when it goes the other way, that’s just karma at work. I don’t buy into that thinking and I’m certainly not going to steal 500 pesos, which is more than a day’s wages, from some hardworking waitress. Still, her gratitude and the approving look I got from Rhel on the way out made me feel good.

I made Queen Victoria my last stop on the way home. This bar is relatively new and has some real potential. Sadly, that potential is not being realized. The absentee owner has left his 20-year-old girlfriend in charge. She’s a hottie but doesn’t have a clue about running a business. I’m not sure what’s going on behind the scenes. They had hired a Filipina to manage the place and she was making some good progress at getting a regular crowd in the bar. Pool league, dart tourneys, and live bands. She’s also a Hasher and we had a Hash “on-home” there a couple of weeks ago. Now, I hear she’s no longer working there. And last night it seemed like I was in a Filipino bar (not that there is anything wrong with that) as I was the only foreigner customer. A very different vibe than I’m used to and one that doesn’t bode well for the Queen’s future I fear. Anyway, the beers were cold and then I stumbled on home.

Had a bowl of ice cream, did my nebulizer, hit the bed and slept soundly. Until 0300 when I was awakened by another coughing fit. This is getting so tiresome. Literally. I’m going to get through the weekend and reassess my options come Monday. I have my domestic helper searching out a pulmonary specialist for a possible consultation.

And that dear readers is how my night went here in paradise.

Started the new year off with a little camping adventure. Well, it was a hike and a cookout, but it felt like camping. I even took a nap.

The trail was all uphill until I reached my limit and turned around. After that, it was all downhill. Funny how that works. My lungs were screaming for air and I was moving much slower than usual. I sincerely hope that this is not my new normal. I *think* I’m making progress day by day, but it’s getting to be a real pain in the ass. I really have to fight the urge to just wuss out and lay around the house. Oh well, I’ve got some pictures to share:

Notwithstanding my health issues, it was a good day. Certainly the longest hike I’ve taken all year!

How about some unrelated humor I encountered on the internet today?

And there you have today’s report from the Philippines.

Everything is 2020.

Yeah, that joke is already a cliche. But this is a once in a lifetime opportunity, damn it, and I ain’t gonna miss out!

Anyway, I spent the last hours of 2019 doing what I do best–drinking copious amounts of San Miguel Zero. I started out on the Arizona floating bar where I captured the last sunset of the old year.

I hit a few other bars on the way back home, but no surprise I didn’t make it to midnight. That’s okay, I was awakened by the explosions that occurred with the commencement of the new year. They don’t use firecrackers around here apparently. Whatever they were setting off sounded like bombs. Ha! Can’t put rice on the table, but fireworks? No problem!

This morning I’m going to do a Sausage Walkers hike to kick off the year. And this is one where we are traveling out to the boondocks and we’ll do our thing and then grill some sausages over an open flame. Rumor has it there’s gonna be beer too! I’ll try and get some pictures.

Of this year.

Still feeling subpar. Based on my internet research I’m suffering from bronchitis. I’m hoping it is a bout of acute bronchitis which should clear up in a few days versus chronic bronchitis which can go on for months. Having COPD, of course, makes any respiratory issue more intense. Time will tell what this is and there’s not much else I can do about it in the interim.

I wasn’t feeling good yesterday but went out for the Hash anyway. I figured I’d play it by ear and not push myself should the trail become too intense. Well, we drove and we drove to the far side of Subic-town to begin the trail. I had never hiked this area and had no clue what was in store. In Barretto I can shortcut a trail as necessary, here I wouldn’t’ have that option since I didn’t know where I was. So, I made the decision to follow the highway back to our “on-home” on Baloy Beach. It was a good hour-long walk on flat ground, and given that I was coughing a lot of the way I think I made the right call. Being out of breath on a climb, heart racing, and having a coughing fit is probably not a good thing for an old fart like me.

So, I don’t think it’s a secret that I’ve been using an app called Grammarly as a means of making fewer mistakes in my writing. I’m not sure it has resulted in much improvement, but they did email me a report card today:

 TOP 3 MISTAKES   

Missing comma? Where have I heard THAT before?

What else? Well, it was 9 years ago today that I retired for the first time and enthusiastically embarked on my new life. Five years later I hit a brick wall and detoured back into the role of a working man. I’m frankly still amazed how that entire world fell to pieces, but it turns out those additional three years of work were the best and most satisfying of my career. Well, it’s not like I had much of a life outside of work. Everything changes and life will take you where it will. No point in kicking and screaming. Just enjoy the ride.

Alright, let’s get this last night of 2019 out of the way, shall we?

Damn, I might not be running dry but I’m at a low ebb. I think a big part of it is I’m just not feeling well of late. I’m hocking up crap from my lungs at a rate I haven’t done since before I was diagnosed with COPD. It’s worse when I’m laying down, and of course, it’s hard to sleep with a hacking cough/spitting out phlegm. Hopefully, this too shall pass soon.

At least my stye seems to have shrunk and is not as tender and painful now. So there’s that.

I guess my bad mood carried over into a “discussion” in one of the Facebook groups where I’m a member. Some dick posted this and it just rubbed me the wrong way for some reason:

One very simple truth about this country and all the people who retire here : the vast majority of you wouldn’t be here if the locals didn’t almost all speak your language.

Lots of you where just being lazy eventually learning another language and thus live in another country. I honestly can’t see any other reason since for almost everything else, PH is a hell hole compared to most other options. I personally lived in other countries (Thailand, Argentina, Ukraine, etc.) and can find sooo many reasons why they were better experiences than PH.

If there was no English and almost no one spoke the language like in Cambodia (for example) the number of expats in Philippines would be divided by 10, minimum.

Prove me wrong? And if you can’t, then, although of course it’s a very important point, ask yourself : is it worth it to be in this country just because people can talk English? (Which implies easiness to find gfs, which is also a very very important point for most here) I guess some will think that yes, some won’t…
/ Discuss

I should have just ignored him and scrolled on down, which is my normal M.O. when I encounter an asshole. Instead, I responded thusly:

I don’t know you so I’ll overlook your arrogance and presumptuousness. And I don’t have to “prove” anything to you or anyone else.

The common language was a factor but not the main reason for my choice. I lived in Korea for 12 years and overcame the language barrier, at least well enough to get by. I chose the Philippines because I genuinely like the people and I’m comfortable here. I like the fact that my being here gives me a chance to make a difference in some of the lives I touch. I have a generous pension and could live pretty much anywhere. I considered Thailand but didn’t like the police state vibe. Cambodia is my Plan B or perhaps Vietnam. Bottom line, if I thought the Philippines was a “shithole” I wouldn’t be here.

It never ceases to amaze to encounter folks who hate their life, and yet here they are. Might I suggest a long look in the mirror to see what the real problem just might be?

I won’t be surprised if I get booted from the group. Not that I actually give a shit.

That’s how my day has gone so far. And really, if this is as bad as it gets I’m one lucky motherfucker.

Oh, please help me,
oh please help me,
I’m livin’ by myself.
I need someone to comfort me,
I need someone to tell.

I’m sorry for
the things I’ve done,
I’ve shamed myself with lies,
But soon these things
are overcome
And can’t be recognized.

I left my love
with ribbons on
And water in her eyes.
I took from her
the love I’d won
And turned it to the sky.

I’m sorry for
the things I’ve done,
I’ve shamed myself with lies,
My cruelty has punctured me
And now I’m running dry.

Not that things ever are. Here’s the latest.

I believe I mentioned a while back that in lieu of the orphanage I decided to sponsor a woman with five kids living nearby. Over the past few months, there have been some bumps as some of my expectations weren’t satisfied. I think we’ve worked through that so at least for now my support continues. Anyway, the oldest of her children, a 17-year-old daughter, gave birth to a little girl on Christmas eve. Yeah, the cycle of poverty continues. So far at least the father is still in the picture which I suppose is a good thing. Time will tell how this plays out.

So my friend Anna is now a lola (grandmother) and she is from all appearances happy about that. I share her thankfulness that the birth went fine and mother and child are doing well. I got a message from her yesterday afternoon saying they were due to be discharged from the hospital. And oh yeah, could she “borrow” some money to pay the bill. How much I asked? P9300 (just under $200). By any measure, that’s quite a bargain for a birthing and two-day hospital stay. On the other hand, when it comes to Filipino medical care it’s been said you get what you pay for. I asked Anna why the father’s family wasn’t paying the bill and she said all they had was P3000. Well, shit. All I had in my wallet was P5000 so I told her to come and get that. She was grateful for my assistance and I’ll reduce her monthly stipend until it’s repaid, so win-win I guess.

This morning I needed to go to immigration and renew my tourist visa. I had my driver swing by on our way to the grocery store. I filled out my paperwork, turned over my passport, and sat down to wait my turn in the queue. And then I remembered I didn’t have any money in my wallet, having used it for someone else’s hospital bill. I asked if immigration accepted credit card payment and of course, the answer was no. Alright. Off to find an ATM.

First stop was at the mall a few blocks up the street. That machine didn’t accept my card. I told my driver to take me back to the old Navy base. On the way, we passed another ATM from a bank I’ve used before. Pulled over, went through the transaction process, and got a message that the machine was out of service. Damn it. We drive on and come to a bank with an ATM out front, and pulled in there. I was third in line, and the woman in front appeared to have never used an ATM before. Then I noticed my driver pointing next door at another bank so off I trotted. No line, but no go on my card either. It seems only a few banks here are set up for international transactions. Back to the previous bank and my turn comes but once again, the machine would not accept my card.

At this point, I was wondering if something else were amiss. Was my account balance depleted? Had my bank in the USA put a block on my card? Well, nothing I could do about it standing on the street in Olongapo, so I had my driver take me back to immigration to recover my passport. I asked what time they closed (4:30) and when they’d reopen (next year), so I had to get the extension today or be an overstay subject to being fined. I keep some dollars on hand at home for emergencies, so I knew I could go to a money exchange to get the pesos I needed for the visa. But first, we’d take care of the grocery shopping.

Once back on base I had the driver pull into a bank branch I’ve used before for one last try at the ATM. And wouldn’t you know, this time it worked! And I guess my luck was changing as I secured everything I need for my fruit salad the grocery store. Well, I still need to go out and buy fresh coconut and have it shredded. And I have to substitute walnuts for pecans. But by God, I’ve got the sour cream!

Back to immigration where I secured another 30 days of legal status, then headed on back home. What an ordeal!

Oh, and the stye is back. Not sure if it is the same one or a new one. It hurts more this time though. I’ll give it a few days and see what happens before I bother with a doctor again. Otherwise, I’m just feeling a little drained or lethargic or something. No motivation. Didn’t even walk this afternoon.

Hmm, maybe some beers will help. I’ll give it a try and let you know.

My friend Edward (Anal Receptive) put on quite the feast yesterday. It was good to have a traditional turkey dinner with all the fixin’s again.

About the way Ed prepared the turkey; I got there after it had been removed from the grill, but here’s how he said it went down: The turkey and stuffing were in the pan and wrapped in foil, then put on a covered charcoal grill. The trick apparently is to arrange the coals so they do not apply direct heat on the pan, essentially turning the grill into an outdoor oven. He cooked it eleven minutes per pound and it really did come out perfect– tender and moist. Tasted just like an oven-roasted turkey. Damn good! My peach pie a la mode and brownies received good feedback as well.

After a nice afternoon at Ed’s, I headed on home for a turkey feast fueled nap. Then I did a Christmas night bar crawl to places I less frequently visit– Rosie’s, Hot Zone, Rum Jungle, and Man Cave. It started raining so I took a trike back home and made it an early night.

Breakfast at Sit-n-Bull this morning:

Okay, I’d like to get y’all’s take on something. I don’t do Twitter but I follow some of what takes place there from a website called Twitchy. Yesterday they had an article highly critical of some rapper in L.A. who stood on the roof of his vehicle and threw money to the hordes of homeless. According to Twitchy, this action was not charitable, it was “dehumanizing”. The link above includes a short video showing the poor folks scrambling about trying to grab as much cash as they can.

So, here’s the thing. When I watched the video it was eerily reminiscent of how the kids reacted to the candy being thrown out to them during our Candy Run. Were we dehumanizing these kids too? Obviously, that was not our intent but were we wrong to do so? On the one hand, they got free candy they wouldn’t have otherwise received. But in scrambling to get the candy, did it cost them their dignity?

I’m of two minds on this I guess. The kids were happy and the parents seemed pleased. No harm, no foul. On the other hand, when I see guys in the bars “make it rain” (throwing cash on stage) and the girls go after it like a pack of hungry dogs, well, it does bother me. My style is to hand the girls a tip individually if I’ve enjoyed their performance. Maybe it is different with the kids. I sometimes hand out candy on the street but honestly, being surrounded by a pack of jostling children grabbing at me can be very disconcerting. I’ll say things like “one at a time, one each” to no avail. Throwing a handful and moving away quickly is sometimes the best means of escape. Looking back on it, I don’t think the Candy Run would work if we tried to deal with the kids individually. It would be utter chaos.

Anyway, maybe it is true that no good deed goes unpunished.

No, not those voices in my head. I mean that loud, off-key singing of Christmas songs on the videoke machine. Yep, that can only mean that the day of days has indeed arrived in the Philippines. Merry Christmas to you!

I got into the spirit of the season last night with a holiday pub crawl during which I sweetened up those hard-working bargirls with some chocolates. The Candy Man strikes again! I did Cheap Charlies, Alaska, Alley Cats, and finished up at Queen Victoria, feeling no pain. The gals there were having their Christmas party, which featured them singing their favorite karaoke songs. Suffice to say it’s good that they have other ASSets to attract customers.

Yesterday afternoon I got my fourth rabies shot, only one more to go! I also went to the mall and picked up my new eyeglasses. I want to have better vision in 2020. Ahem. I also went on a quest to find the ingredients for my traditional holiday treat–Aunt Pat’s Recipe World Famous Fruit Salad. I’ve been stymied by my lack of success in finding two key ingredients: sour cream and shredded coconut. You’d think that in a country that grows and exports coconut (buko as they call it here) that should be easy. Well, not if you want it from a bag at the grocery store. Instead, I need to go to the outdoor market, buy a fresh buko, and have them slice it up for me. So, that’s what I’ll do–once I find some sour cream. The two supermarkets I checked yesterday were “wala” (out). Maybe for New Year’s.

Anyway, I’m attending a Christmas dinner this afternoon at a fellow Hasher’s house here in my subdivision. I volunteered to bring some dessert. During my failed supermarket search I decided Plan B would be a pie. Now, my favorite holiday pie is pecan. Pumpkin is a close second. And in a pinch, I can be happy with apple. Of course, the only thing I found in the frozen food section (you didn’t think I was going to bake one from scratch, did you?) was peach. So, peach it is!

I also baked up a batch of brownies and I’m bringing along some vanilla ice cream. Oh, and a tin of Danish-style butter cookies. So, there’s your dessert!

I asked Ed how he was preparing the turkey–oven-baked or deep-fried. He told me that he’s grilling it. That’s a new one on me. I’m assuming it will a rotisserie type deal, but we shall see.

And finally, in keeping with the spirit of the season:

Well, if the metric is handing out copious amounts of candy and getting big smiles from happy children in return, yesterday’s annual Candy Run was a success.

This was my second time participating in this event and I guess I’m still learning the ropes. Most of the Hashers were carrying hard candies and they’d just toss a handful at a time into the crowd of kids. I wasn’t comfortable doing that with my chocolate bars, however. They were a pretty popular treat and I was trying to hand them out individually but that tended to draw a crowd. I was also trying to ration them so I’d have enough to cover the full 6K walk. Eventually, I got out in front of the truck carrying Santa and then told then kids the candy was “back there”. That allowed me to pick and choose my time and place for distribution. After a while, I focused on the mothers and lolas (grandmothers) for the chocolate treats and that worked well. I gave away my last morsels just before arriving back “on-home” at Hot Zone.

Anyway, it was enjoyable to give a little back to the community, especially the ones who have so little.

And that’s the way it was.

Merry Christmas!