Survived another Hash day. Was geared up to tackle whatever the Hare, Leech My Nuggets, threw at me. But not in the rain. And it started to rain before the Hashmobile reached the drop-off point. So I and a handful of others opted to make our own trail, avoiding any dangerous climbs.
It wasn’t hard to do that because I’ll be damned if Leech didn’t lay the trail in Calapacuan–the very area I’d been scouting for the October 14 Hash. Leech even did Black Rock mountain yesterday, the one we had rejected as too dangerous. And that was BEFORE the rain! Ah well, we did a very nice flat trail at 7+K and rejoined the Leech’s chosen path after the mountainous parts.
The trail in orange as Leech My Nuggets intended. In purple as I walked it.I snapped this photo while en-route just before the rain…Offloading in the rain.On-On! The rain let up shortly after we began hiking.We still had some residual mud to deal with…How sturdy was this bridge?This sturdy! The only thing shaking was my knees…After that, it was practically a walk in the park…My goose didn’t get cooked on trail, that’s always a good thing!One last bridge to cross…The sleepy headwaters of the Matain river (aka Shit river).This carabao paid us no heed…And we all made it back safely to Treasure Island for the On-Home activities before the sun went down.
I always feel bad when I don’t respect the trail the Hare worked hard at providing. But having said that, I’m 64 years old and I’d like to make it to 65. I’ve made up my mind to put my safety first during the Hash. And that means I’m not climbing mountains during a rainstorm. Tough titties said the kitty, but the milk’s okay.
Now I’ve got to figure out how to salvage a trail when I Hare in two weeks.
My usual morning stroll, but I consciously kept my eyes wide open despite the familiar surroundings. This is what I saw:
I didn’t stop to smell the flowers, but I paused to snap a photo of this one.Thatch grass in full bloom…The remains of the squatter shacks recently demolished on Abra street. I’m told the government relocated the folks who had been living here. I hope that’s true.This tree stands proudly on a vacant lot here in my subdivision. Not sure why it caught my eye, but I like the way it looks.
hear the croaking frogs at night sometimes, but alas, this frog has croaked for the last time.
That’s one thing about being retired. All the days are pretty much the same and you can do pretty much whatever you please. Still, you tend to fall into a rhythm associated with activities that normally occur on any given day. Yesterday featured the Wednesday Sausage Walkers group followed by the darts tourney at Alley Cats.
Regarding the darts, I confess that I have not been motivated to practice. But you wouldn’t know it based on the way I threw last night. Most of my throws were on target and I was consistently hitting my “out” shots. Of course, it didn’t hurt that I drew Christy, the top female player in Barretto as my partner. We were expected to win and we didn’t disappoint. In fact, we never lost a leg, winning all our matches 2-0 in the best of three format.
I guess you could technically call it a tie for first. As is my custom, I offered the other team the chance to forego the final round and split the 1st and 2nd place money 50-50. It was after 10 p.m. and we were all tired. I’m confident we would have beat them for the second time that night, but why bother over a couple hundred pesos?
I was more tired than usual because the Wednesday walk was pretty strenuous. We climbed the “big” mountain that separates Barretto from Olongapo City. By big, I mean that the mountain My Bitch crosses is approximately 100 meters of uphill. Our hike yesterday was around 250 meters of elevation. It being sunny and hot didn’t make it any easier, but I was still glad to not be hiking in the rain.
Anyway, with the improved weather, we had a big turnout of walkers, twelve all told. Nice scenery as usual and only one injury. For some inexplicable reason, someone had strung a strand of barbed wire across the trail–at head height. Gunter, who was leading the pack, walked right into it (like most of us do, he was looking down at the trail so didn’t see the wire). He got a gash on his forehead, but it didn’t appear deep enough for stitches. I teased he’d make a good Frankenstein for Halloween. Ah well, it can always be worse.
Here are some photos from the day’s march:
Waiting to head out for adventure from Angel’s bakery…We started our climb up these stairs off Abra street. Steep they were. Made me reminisce about all those times I climbed Namsan.The concrete steps gave way to rubber. Man was I tired!Soon enough, we were climbing the old school way. That’s me with the black backpack by the way…Up and up we go. You might notice that even up in the mountains there is no escaping the litter.Well, people do live up there on the mountainside. I’m sure it is a tough life. And I guess disposing of their trash properly is the least of their worries. A sad situation.Onward and upward.A brief rest near the top…And a look back at Barretto…Now, that’s more like it! The climbing is tough on these old lungs of mine, but I do really enjoy being up there on trail…We took a lunch break. At this resort on top of the mountain we had just climbed. It was really a pretty nice place. We were the only visitors, but maybe it’s busier on weekends. I asked one of the veterans in our group where do people come from who visit here? He said Olongapo. How do they get up here? They walk. Yep, there is no road. I can’t imagine why they built here. I guess it’s a Filipino thing.Some of the group chillin’ out at our private resort.Time to head back home. Crossing a creek…Horsing around.Ride ’em, cowgirls!Down we go…Our destination, Cheap Charlies, awaits below. I can almost taste the cold beer!As usual, I’m always bringing up the rear. At least on Wednesdays, my fellow hikers wait for me to catch up. Usually.A little over 7K of hard mountain walking!
Well, not cotton. But that irritating wild grass that towers over my head and makes hiking more difficult does have a name: talahib. At least that is what the Filipinos call it. Scientists say Saccharum spontaneum, and us English speaking folks might call it thatch grass or fodder cane. Whatever the name, it is a pain in the ass.
It can also, however, be quite pretty as this picture I stole from the internet demonstrates.
On my dog walking excursion this morning, I took note of the thatch grass growing throughout the neighborhood. From the vantage point of the pavement, I could better appreciate it’s beauty. Like the photo above, the grass here has gone into its “blossoming” phase.
Not that Buddy and Lucky gave a shit, they just wanted to get on with the walk.
Anyway, it was just another example of looking for new within the routine.
I did the Wednesday walking group this morning. I’ve got some photos of that to post tomorrow. Right now, I need to head out for darts. But before I go, let me share this:
A girl at the bar showed me a picture of her mother. I said “wow you look like identical twins”. After a pause, she said “Yes, we were separated at birth.”
Run #1367 of the Subic Bay Hash House Harriers is in the books. And for the first time in weeks and weeks, the rain was not a factor. In fact, after three straight days of sunshine, the trail was almost dry. It was a pleasant day to hike, even if I was drenched in sweat.
There were two options: a short 3.5K trail, or the long 6.5K. I went with the long version.As usual, signups were at Johansson’s. 35 Hashers in attendance yesterday.I had a couple more questions for the Hare, Anal Retentive, before heading out.And we are “on-on!”Then on up. The first third of the trail took us up the mountain nearest my subdivision. I’d been up there on my own recently.Hazy skies, but dry. I’ll take it…Looking down on Barretto and the bay…And the view from the other side of the mountain.We were in tall cotton…er, grass, or whatever that shit is called. Always nice to have some “Gash” (female Hashers are also known as “Harriettes”) on trail. As usual, I was near the back of the pack with these two and my friend Tinkerbell. When we reached the junction where the short trail turned off, they decided to stay with me for the long version. I was duly impressed.
Now, once we came down that first mountain I was on very familiar turf–yep, it was My Bitch. So I was pretty confident I knew where we were heading–Rizal Extension. My only concern was the last time I’d hiked that way the tall grass made it almost impassable. But then, just before we got to that section, the Hare took us in a direction I’d never seen before. Now, I do enjoy exploring a new path, but damn, this one was pretty f’n steep. And that wasn’t the worst of it…
…this was. A double-stranded barbed/razor wire fence. Too high to step over, and low enough to make it difficult to crawl under. Especially for an old fucker like me. Worse yet, there were three of them we had to get under. Pain n the ass (luckily, not literally). Safe to say, I will NOT be walking this path again.We were rewarded with a nice view of the valley from our mountain top vantage point.
And I had to chuckle once we came back down–we intersected with My Bitch again and did in fact, wind up on Rizal Extension. Ah well, it was an easy paved walk from there to our “on-home” at the Hot Zone.
Paused for a photo with my Hash buddy Tinkerbell along the way. She’s heading back home to Belgium next week, so who knows when we shall meet again.We can’t do the traditional Hash circle in the somewhat cramped confines of Hot Zone. So we just make do the best that we are able.And the obligatory photo of “gash on ice” for you, my faithful reader(s).All the Hashers in attendance were given this handy pocket-sized songbook to facilitate the enhanced performance of our Hash circle songs.
We are I believe one of the more perverted Hash kennels around. Definitely not family-friendly. Here’s but one example:
(to the tune of “if you’re happy and you know it”)
If you girlfriend tastes like shit, roll her over
If your girlfriend tastes like shit, roll her over
If your girlfriend tastes like shit, it’s her asshole not her clit
If your girlfriend tastes like shit, roll her over.
Well, you get the idea. It’s silly in a fraternal kind of way I suppose. There’s a couple of songs I actually kind of like, if for no other reason than that they are decidedly non-PC. It’s all in good fun.
Put differently, how might we be enchanted by discovery’s opposite — routine — and find in constancy a stimulation as rich as novelty provides?
“To learn something new,” the wise explorer John Burroughs noted, “take the path that you took yesterday.” A knowing friend in New York sent me that line when he heard that I’d spent 26 years in the same anonymous suburb in western Japan, most of that time traveling no farther than my size 8 feet can carry me.
For me at least, it’s about finding the right mix of old and new. This morning I walked my familiar path down Rizal street, around Abra road, back to the National highway, along Barretto and Baloy beaches, then onward to home. I marveled at how the market stalls had been torn down on Rizal. I sadly wondered what happened to the occupants of the now demolished squatter houses on Abra. And I was surprised at seeing the lowest tide I can remember on the beach. Everything old seemed new again somehow.
Greetings to all you sunny beaches!
Anyway, last night I was drinking beers in Alaska. This morning I had breakfast in Arizona. I get around some, don’t I? And I never even had to leave my beloved Barrio Barretto.
I just wasn’t feeling the eggs and bacon routine, so I switched it up and had a chicken quesadilla. Quite tasty!
And that’s just about all I’ve got for you faithful readers today. Well, this cracked me up:
“Justin Trudeau greets a man wearing a blue shirt”
I’m so sick of American politics. It’s good to mock the lefty hypocrites (but I repeat myself) in Canada for a change.
No I’d rather go and journey Where the diamond crescent’s glowing And run across the valley Beneath the sacred mountain And wander through the forest Where the trees have leaves of prisms And break the light in colors That no one know the names of
And when it’s time I’ll go and lay Beside the legendary fountain ‘Till I see her form reflected In its clear and jewelled waters And if you think I’m ready You may lead me to the chasm Where the rivers of our visions Flow into one another
I will want to dive beneath the white cascading waters She may beg, she may plead, she may argue with her logic And mention all the things I’ll lose That really have no value in the end she will surely know I wasn’t born to follow
A second place finish in darts last night. My partner and I lost in the first round but fought our way back through the loser’s bracket to make the finals. Yep, faced off against Steve, the Englishman who doesn’t drink, once again. We won the first match 2-0, and we went to the third leg of the championship match before succumbing to Steve’s superior darts. Still, I was happy that I threw well for most of the night. Perhaps I’ll be motivated to practice some more and take my game back to the level at which I once played. We’ll see.
It’s a weird thing though. I played better at the end of the night than I did at the beginning. The only difference I can think of is the several beers I consumed during the intervening period. It doesn’t really make sense, I mean, no one would argue that drinking enhances hand-eye coordination. I’m thinking it’s a mental thing–throwing more relaxed and not getting stressed about winning overmuch. Anyway, I just need to learn to keep my focus on the target and let the darts fly. And practice more.
No rain again today, so I did my morning walk up on the mountain.
It was a tiring climb……but I stepped it on up to the top.The Great Falls of Barretto.My kind of trail…I never did find the proverbial fork in the road. This is as close as I got…
Another long walk in the afternoon, still scouting a potential trail for the next time I Hare. Still lots to be done to put it all together.
In the meantime, I reckon these baby back ribs ought to hit the spot. They’ll also provide a good base for some Sunday evening beer drinking.
Life is good.
UPDATE: Well, it seems I used “shows improvement” as the title to a post in February 2017. Back then, I was starting to feel better because the drugs prescribed for my chronic obstructive pulmonary disease were working. They still pretty much are, thank you very much!
And today was just another one. Not bad, mind you. In fact, we had some sunshine and blue skies for a change. It made my walking routine a little more pleasant.
It is getting to be my Saturday morning tradition to hand out some candy to the kiddies in the squatter village right outside my subdivision. I know they look forward to it, and it is a cheap price to pay for all those smiles. Hell, I guess I look forward to it too.
I changed it up some for my afternoon walk. I’m wanting to Hare a trail out Calapacuan way, so I did a little scouting. I’m still not ready to go up into the mountains in unfamiliar territory on my own, but I explored the streets in between the two mountains I have in mind. That was its own kind of scary. Once I left the highway the neighborhood looked a little dicey. Well, dicey is unfair. It looked very poor and I stood out like the white man I am in a sea of desperate young men. And yes, I am projecting. I got lots of stares, but probably only because people like me don’t normally venture out their way. I was uncomfortable, but never felt threatened.
Part of the problem was probably related to a blog I read this morning about crime against foreigners in the Philippines. Actually, it claimed that most violence and thefts come from people you know, not random strangers. So by that account, I had nothing to worry about. Still, I wasn’t wanting to pull out my phone to take many pictures. Which is a shame, because some of the shacks were built on stilts to be above the standing rain runoff, and looked quite interesting, in a tragic kind of way.
Anyway, such is what passes for adventure in my life these days.
I walked about 3K up the highway, then turned off onto the back roads and alleys.One of the more depressing sights on my hike was this hungry dog sniffing for what he might find to eat in the garbage.Like an alley, only smaller. As I mentioned, I was not comfortable pulling out the phone in some of the dicier areas I walked through. This spot was comparatively nice, and there was no one around, so it seemed safe enough.A street food vendor on, well, the street. I haven’t been quite that adventurous to try one yet…
Anyway, I’ve got some ideas now on how to connect the two mountains. I’ve just got to get up on those fuckers and find some trails. One of the veteran Hashers suggested I wait until after the rainy season because he suspects the tall grasses will make it difficult going. He’s likely right based on what I’ve observed on My Bitch.
Last night I managed a 3rd place finish in darts. Given that I can’t be bothered to practice, that’s a pretty good showing I reckon. I’m going to try again tonight. Losing games I know I should win just might motivate me to actually work on my game. Or not.
I baked up some blueberry muffins to take with me tonight. The girls profess to love my brownies, so we’ll see how these go over.
After re-reading this post, I’m reminded of the words of a wise man known the world over as “The Big Hominid”: “What a boring life you must lead, utterly lacking in nuance and subtlety!”
Once upon a time there was a tavern Where we used to raise a glass or two Remember how we laughed away the hours And think of all the great things we would do
Those were the days my friend We thought they’d never end We’d sing and dance forever and a day We’d live the life we choose We’d fight and never lose For we were young and sure to have our way
Then the busy years went rushing by us We lost our starry notions on the way If by chance I’d see you in the tavern We’d smile at one another and we’d say
Those were the days my friend We thought they’d never end We’d sing and dance forever and a day We’d live the life we choose We’d fight and never lose Those were the days, oh yes those were the days
Just tonight I stood before the tavern Nothing seemed the way it used to be In the glass I saw a strange reflection Was that lonely [old man] really me
Those were the days my friend We thought they’d never end We’d sing and dance forever and a day We’d live the life we choose We’d fight and never lose Those were the days, oh yes those were the days
Through the door there came familiar laughter I saw your face and heard you call my name Oh my friend we’re older but no wiser For in our hearts the dreams are still the same
Those were the days my friend We thought they’d never end We’d sing and dance forever and a day We’d live the life we choose We’d fight and never lose Those were the days, oh yes those were the days
Just another day. Some rain of course, but only about another month or so to go for rainy season. I guess it’s fair to say I’ve become a creature–a creature of habit that is. In bed by ten, and up at six. Coffee and internet. Feed and walk the dogs. Eat. Take a morning hike. Have a one hour nap. And then sit down here and write on the blog. Whether I have anything to say or not.
Who says there’s no excitement in my life? That’s me grilling up some steaks.Lucky got pretty damned excited too!
I don’t do steaks as often as I used to, but this batch turned out pretty damn good. I sprinkled on some meat tenderizer then let them marinate in an herb and garlic concoction for a couple of days. Still not as tender as American beef, but what are you gonna do?
Yeah, that’s medium, which is okay, although I prefer just slightly more medium-rare. When I’m manning the grill, there’s no telling what you’re gonna get. I’ve been known to serve them blackened.Last night found me imbibing beers at Cheap Charlies. Nothing unusual about that. The new 4-star hotel, Central Park Reef, is open for business and seems to be doing well. The rooftop infinity pool and bar is not operational, so I’m going to hold off for that before I visit. The tallest building in Barretto at 6 floors.
I also dropped into the Man Cave bar before calling it a night. I recognized a dancer there named MJ, whom I’d met once before through a friend at Alley Cats. Called her down for some lady drinks and conversation. She’s got a smokin’ hot body and an okay face. I was surprised to learn she is 40 years old. And she also has five kids. Oh well.
I had a taco for breakfast this morning. It’s big, but skimpy on the meat. I didn’t eat the shell either, not worth the added carbs…On Baloy beach for the morning walk, I saw this tour company sign with Hanguel lettering, and the Taeguki fluttering proudly in the breeze. Made me almost homesick.
It’s been several weeks since I ventured out with the Wednesday Sausage Walkers group. My primary reason is that they do intense and lengthy walks. I prefer to do my hikes in 1.5 hour morning and afternoon installments. But this week a Belgian friend from the Hash was back in town, and she wanted to join up with the Sausage Walkers, so I agreed.
Of course, it was raining Wednesday morning. I told Betty I would show up at the Angel’s bakery start point, and then see how things looked at 10:00 a.m. She’s staying on the old Navy base and had a 20-minute Jeepney ride, but was still willing to chance a trip in vain. And the rain did, in fact, stop prior to our scheduled departure. There were only five of us present for the hike. Gunter, our Austrian leader, suggested taking a Jeepney to Olongapo City and doing the “stairway to heaven” hike. I nixed that idea, saying I didn’t want to be stuck in the wilderness should the rain return. The others thankfully agreed, and Troy led the way on a mostly flat, wet, and muddy, 10-kilometer walk.
That’s Gunter, crossing a makeshift bridge. Me? I waded across. Hey, my shoes were muddy! Although I do tend to be a little bridge-phobic.Gunter and Betty on a sturdier river crossing bridge.I’m not sure whether to caption this “ducks on a pond” or “a pond on the road.” Both would be apt.Moss may not grow on a rolling stone, but it seems to do fine on a block wall…
We were just under 2.5 hours on trail. The rain held off until the last 30 minutes, and then we walked in a freaking deluge to our customary stopping point, Cheap Charlies.
We were all drenched, but the beer was cold and wetter, so we were happy campers.This is my total for the day. It includes walking the dogs and walking myself to/from the bar last night. Best total I’ve had in a while…
Neil Parker was about 20 feet up a waterfall when suddenly he wasn’t climbing anymore. The same rocks he had scaled many times before were no longer supporting his weight. He was falling, tumbling head over heels as he bounced off the rock face.
Seconds later, the 54-year-old splashed into the creek at the bottom of the falls.
“Straight away I thought, ‘Well, now I’m in a lot of trouble,’ ” he said Wednesday.
His left leg, just above the ankle, had “clean snapped in half” and his left wrist was also broken. To make matters worse, he was alone. Parker hadn’t told anyone about his plan to take a short hike Sunday in the Mount Nebo area northwest of Brisbane, Australia, and a quick check of his cellphone confirmed that calling for help wasn’t an option. There was no service in the deep rocky gully where he was now lying.
You can read the rest at the link, but the guy wound up crawling through the wilderness for two miles before he was finally rescued. Yikes!
Anyway, I’m going to keep on keeping on, but I will proceed with caution. What else can you do?
A couple of rain free days will spoil you. Woke up to rain this morning and it hasn’t stopped. I hate being stuck in the house almost as much as I hate walking in the rain. So here I sit, alone with my memories of yesterday’s hike.
It was an interesting path I found myself on. I was following the Hash marks from last week’s trail to see what I had missed. Fortunately, the Hare had used shredded paper rather than powder so it was still mostly visible. I had a hunch where the trail was leading but I turned out to be wrong about that. I missed a couple of turns and I had to retreat and search out the true trail. I was kinda of proud of myself for being successful at that, but finally I lost the trail for good on top of the mountain overlooking Barretto.
I’d been up here a couple of times before.And the views are quite pleasant.
But now I wasn’t seeing any Hash marks and it appeared there were only two options: straight down or walking the ridge line. I took a few tentative steps on the steep down path and then thought better of it. Once I committed to the ridge I noticed there was no more paper, so I had chosen “wrong”. But I was pretty sure I had been walking the trail from last week in reverse, so if it was the steep path, they had come up it, not down. And down looked “slipping and sliding out of control dangerous” to me. No regrets with my choice!
The view from my chosen path. Better safe than sorry!
I wasn’t exactly sure where I was, but I eventually could see my subdivision below me in the distance. I found a path that led down to that familiar ground and I deemed the afternoon a success.
After a poor showing at darts last night, I returned home to be greeted by my loving boys, Buddy and Lucky.
They got a good whiff of my socks……and later I found them like this. Powerful stuff!
No real progress on the weight loss to report, but I’m working hard at staying on plan.
A grilled pork chop from Mango’s. Low carb doesn’t have to mean low taste…
And that’s all I got on this rainy afternoon. Well, there is this:
Actually, no I wouldn’t. Okay, I will. But it will take me 53 days. I just did the math. Now, Kevin Kim on the other hand, is fixing to walk from Incheon, on the west coast of Korea, all the way down to Busan, which is at the southeastern tip of the peninsula. That’s around 650 kilometers! Kevin has created a new blog to document his adventure. Feel free to join me in following along.
As a hobby walker I’m always happy to just achieve my 20,000 steps/15 KM daily goal.
Yesterday was a better than normal day. I guess it was just the joy of being back on the familiar turf of Barrio Barretto.
It was mostly a rain free day, which helped. I also spent the afternoon with My Bitch.
It had been quite awhile since I hooked up on this particular path. And from the looks of things no one else had been up there either. The trail in many places was completely overgrown with tall grasses. It made for some treacherous hiking because I could not see the actual trail under my feet. And there are places where a wrong step to either side can send you careening down a steep hill. At one point I completely lost the path which was especially disconcerting. I eventually saw some barbed wire fencing and I recalled the trail ran along side that fence. So, I found my way but vowed “never again” until burn season is here and the grass is torched.
If I were to do a Kevin Kim-like distance hike, I might enjoy something like these four Hashers did back in 2014: Barretto to Angeles City. Here’s a short six minute video of that adventure. Three of the guys were in their sixties, so perhaps there is hope for me yet!
“It took 3 years to find this route, it’s not on any produced maps and only 4 people have the trail. The route is all off road and follows many animal paths and little known trails straight over the top of the Zambales Mountains. This was completed on 25th Feb 2014 and only 4 of us had the courage and ability to undertake it. “This is the route they took…
Speaking of Hashers, I got a kick out of this Michelob beer commercial, which captures some of intricacies associated with Hashing. Without the perversions and un-PC songs of course! Damn it, I can’t embed for some reason, so you’ll have to click on the link below:
So, I kicked off my diet plan yesterday. Had a nice big three egg omelet with ham and mushrooms for breakfast. No lunch, although I did have a handful of nuts. Then I had this for dinner at Sit-n-Bull:
Okay, the cole slaw is not really low in carbohydrates, but damn, it was just too good to resist. I compensated by pulling some of the skin of the chicken wings.
Four more 60 calorie beers at Cheap Charlies, then walked back home. Made a sugar free banana pudding for dessert. It’s a start!
So, my goal is to get down to 190 pounds and then maintain my weight within the 190-195 range. My big surprise yesterday was weighing in at 199 pounds. That’s less than I weighed when I left for Vietnam! Granted, I did weigh-in right after my sweaty mountain hike, so I wasn’t carrying much water weight. Still, being under 200 and appearing fat confirms my suspicion: It’s my damn beer belly that’s the problem. We’ll see what I can do about that (and for the record, I’d rather be fat than give up my beloved beer!). Regardless, I have 10 pounds to go. Let’s see how long that takes.
When I’m lonely, well, I know I’m gonna be I’m gonna be the man who’s lonely without you And when I’m dreaming, well, I know I’m gonna dream I’m gonna dream about the time when I’m with you When I go out (When I go out), well, I know I’m gonna be I’m gonna be the man who goes along with you And when I come home (When I come home), yes, I know I’m gonna be I’m gonna be the man who comes back home with you I’m gonna be the man who’s coming home with you
But I would walk five hundred miles And I would walk five hundred more Just to be the man who walked a thousand miles To fall down at your door
Busy as a bee getting it all together for my next adventure. Completed my paperwork for the visa on arrival processing, did my Philippines Air check-in and printed out my boarding pass, and of course packed my suitcase.
I have a 6:55 a.m. flight to catch in Manila and my driver suggests we leave Barretto at 0100. Between now and then I’ve got a Hash to participate in and then hopefully a few hours sleep before hitting the road.
Forty-six years ago the last place I wanted to be on Earth is where I now happily choose to visit and explore. I guess the difference is that I have the choice. Back in 1973 you might say I won the lottery–a lottery to determine who would be called to serve (drafted) in Uncle Sam’s military endeavors. And also in 1973 the draft was ended (one month before I turned 18). At the time you might say it felt like I had dodged a bullet. I actually came to regret not volunteering for military service, but that’s another story for another day.
And now at long last Vietnam is indeed my immediate destiny. I’m looking forward to seeing what I missed, without all the gunfire, rockets, and bombing of course. As close as I’ll get to that violence is a planned excursion to the war museum.
And of course I’ll be sharing all the excitement from the trip right here on LTG. Stay tuned!
We met as soul mates On Parris Island We left as inmates From an asylum And we were sharp As sharp as knives And we were so gung ho To lay down our lives
We came in spastic Like tameless horses We left in plastic As numbered corpses And we learned fast To travel light Our arms were heavy But our bellies were tight
We had no home front We had no soft soap They sent us Playboy They gave us Bob Hope We dug in deep And shot on sight And prayed to Jesus Christ With all of our might
We had no cameras To shoot the landscape We passed the hash pipe And played our Doors tapes And it was dark So dark at night And we held on to each other Like brother to brother We promised our mothers we’d write
And we would all go down together We said we’d all go down together Yes we would all go down together
Remember Charlie Remember Baker They left their childhood On every acre And who was wrong? And who was right? It didn’t matter in the thick of the fight
We held the day In the palm Of our hand They ruled the night And the night Seemed to last as long as six weeks On Parris Island
We held the coastline They held the highlands And they were sharp As sharp as knives They heard the hum of our motors They counted the rotors And waited for us to arrive
And we would all go down together We said we’d all go down together Yes we would all go down together
A second place finish in darts last night. Not bad considering my partner Jerlyn is pretty much a rookie. Friday night had a similar outcome, except that after coming back through the loser’s bracket to play the team that put us there, we all agreed to just call it a tie, split the pot 50-50, and take our drunken asses home.
Everyone’s a winner!
In other “news”…
The new Divimart opened yesterday. There was an insane traffic jam on the highway. Made walking more perilous than normal. Idiots were driving on the shoulder (even the unpaved portions) like it was a traffic lane. Us pedestrians had to avoid cars and scooters as best as we were able. Kind of pissed me off, but I used my mantra to calm myself down. Some.
I don’t have much else, but let me just dump some stuff I’ve found on Facebook and my wanderings around the internets…
Over in Thailand there was an unusual story of a foreigner fleecing a poor local. I mean, that’s pretty fucked up. The Thai local was a street food vendor. What’s worse than stealing from the poor? It’s almost always the other way around. I’ve been scammed a few times myself. You know, helping out a “friend” in need with a loan, never to be repaid. I mean, I get it. When you are living day-to-day and hand-to-mouth paying a debt to a “rich” foreigner is not going to be a priority. The shocking thing to me was that they didn’t even bother to give me an excuse, just broke off all contact. And these were people I had known for years. I’m obviously a horrible judge of character. So maybe I got lucky having dishonest people removed from my life. I’ll trust to Karma to extract a form of retribution on their lying asses as payment in full. Good riddance!
Yep.
Three years ago I was putting on the last suit I ever expect to buy. Tailor-made of course!
“Girls go crazy for a sharp dressed man”. Or so I’ve been told.
Speaking of women, this was my gal three years ago (thanks for reminding me Facebook):
I took Eun Oke to visit my office and let her try out the Director’s chair. I fell in love with her despite all the warning signs. Did I learn from it? Well, one year later it was Loraine’s turn to fuck me over…
Also seen on FB today was this bulletin board posted in an American schoolhouse:
is’nt it a shame that our kids are failing?
Speaking of language, I had never thought of this before:
It’s a little queer for sure…
I’ve always admired creative problem solving:
I may need to keep this in mind if my beer belly keeps growing…
Although my breakfast this morning at Sit-n-Bull wasn’t exactly low carb either:
Don’t give me any shit about it. I only ate half of that shingle…Yep, pretty much every single day. Well, night. I try to avoid drinking before 5:00 p.m.
And finally, this is the second time I’ve used “sloppy seconds” as a post title. Back in April 2014 I also finished second in a darts tournament. And afterwards went out for a nice samgyeopsal dinner at my favorite place in Itaewon. With my wife, her daughter, and some friends. The next day we dined at Tabom Brazil with the esteemed Kevin Kim.
It never ceases to amaze me how everything in life can change. Not always in a good way, but we find a way to survive. Well, it feels more like dying and being reborn, if you get my meaning. Either way, it’s good to be alive! Let’s see what happens next.
Oh, this lunch break is gonna take all afternoon, And half the night. Tomorrow mornin’, I know there’ll be hell to pay, Hey, but that’s all right. I ain’t had a day off now in over a year. My Jamaican vacation’s gonna start right here. If the phone’s for me, You can tell ’em I just sailed away.
And pour me somethin’ tall and strong, Make it a “Hurricane” before I go insane. It’s only half-past twelve but I don’t care. It’s five o’clock somewhere.
So, the other day I did a Google search of my name. Yeah, I was that bored. It had been awhile but there wasn’t much new I hadn’t seen before. Well, it was a little shocking to see that one of those “find me” sites said I was 91 years old and still living in Lexington, SC. The other thing I found interesting and/or amusing was a blog called Joyful Public Speaking (from fear to joy), written by one Richard I. Garber, who back in March referenced a post of mine from 2010 about diversity training. Specifically, the term “flip” and its offensiveness to Filipinos.
Here’s what he cited:
A 2010 web article by John McCrarey titled Concerning Diversity Training had the following discussion: “Anyway, as an example of insensitivity the instructor solemnly informed us that the visual aid commonly referred to as a ‘flip chart’ was offensive. Seriously. You see, ‘flip’ is a derogatory term applied to Filipinos. And so according to the trainer we should henceforth call the flip chart a rip chart.
To our credit, we didn’t let the trainer get away without asking some clarifying questions. Like, it is wrong to ‘flip a coin’? Is it permissible to ‘flip through the pages of a book’? Or how about if someone cuts you off in traffic–can you ‘flip them the finger’? Yeah, it’s true. We were certainly being ‘flip’ about the subject.”
Heh, indeed that was one of my finer moments. And I was in good company because the next reference in Garber’s post is from Jordan Peterson, as quoted by the New York Times. The Times being the Times it is unflattering of course, calling Peterson the “custodian of the patriarchy”. I’ll just call him “my hero”!
I’m always honored when someone links to my blog, whether it brings me any new readers or not. And it seemed like the least I could do was leave Garber a comment. And this is what I said:
HaHa! I just did a Google search of my name and found a link to your blog citing a post I made referencing “flip charts”. A belated thank you for the mention.
I actually live in the Philippines now. I certainly would never call any of my neighbors a “Flip”. I still wouldn’t have a problem referring to a “flip chart” in the context of a presentation board. But since I’m retired now I doubt I’ll have the need.
Here’s a funny anecdote: A web forum where I’m a member automatically corrects any usage of the term “flip” to Filipino. So, were I to type “everyone here wears flip flop shoes”, it becomes “Filipino flops”. Cracks me up every time. And by the way, do you know what Filipinos call that type of shoe? You guessed it–flip flops.
You gotta laugh.
So, if any of y’all think my using the term flip in the context of a flip chart is offensive, well, all I can say is I don’t give a flip.
Not much to talk about today, but y’all know that has never stopped me before.
Anyway, I just got wind of this:
It appears Typhoon Kabayan is heading my way. If this projected storm track holds, it will be come right through Olongapo. Hold onto your hats!
The first thing I do every morning after I wake up is look out the window. I mean, I’m paying a premium in rent for the view, so I need to get my money’s worth. This morning I saw this…
…big ass ship slowly moving through the bay. I’m not even sure what kind of ship it is, but it is much larger than the usual freighters and other craft I see out there.
I guess I’ve always struggled somewhat with spelling (thank God for spellcheck!) and grammar. I never thought much about punctuation though until a commenter (alright, I’ll out him–Kevin Kim) noted that my comma usage could stand for some improvement. So, ever since, I’ve been cognizant of that problem, and now I try to inject a few commas, whether I need them or not! And now this morning I’m reading another blogger, Althouse, who was giving her take on the Bret “Bedbug” Stephens meltdown. Then she tacks on this addendum:
Excellent except to the extent that the provost is still doing 2 spaces after a period. Come on! Also, there’s no extra space before the new paragraph. That too much/too little combination is mildly infuriating.
Okay yeah, I get needing that space between paragraphs–it both looks better and makes for easier reading. But I’ll be damned if I’m not going to put two spaces between sentences. When did that rule change? I distinctly remember when I took typing in high school (for you youngsters, this was before keyboards were invented) two spaces after the period was not optional, it was a requirement. Someone is going to have to prove to me that two spaces is one space too many. Okay, rant over.
There was some good news on the ‘net today though. A new study has found that people who drink alcohol and coffee live longer. Well, you can’t argue with science, right? My only problem is that I usually only drink one cup of coffee each day. Hopefully the fact that I overindulge in beer drinking will counter any ill effects of my limited coffee intake.
There have been a number of dire warnings about climate change, with some saying we have only a decade to fix things. Others say we have only months. But now climate scientists have revealed the worst news of all: Climate change killed us years ago, and the Trump presidency is some purgatory-like trial similar to the last season of the TV show Lost.
“We’ve been crunching the data, and it’s the only thing that makes sense,” explained climate scientist Andrew Halloway at a press conference presenting the findings. He warned that their scientific conclusion is considered a spoiler for the final season of Lost but also said that the season was “terrible” and that “no one should watch it.”
“We probably died somewhere around 2016,” Halloway further explained. “That’s when everything got really weird — and everything since has been some sort of trial to teach us a lesson before we move on to the afterlife — maybe a lesson about teamwork or something.”
While the scientists presented a lot of data to back up their conclusion, many are doubting it or calling it “bad theology.” Some are even calling it “blasphemous” since it implies that God would copy the final season of Lost when God, being infinitely wise, most likely stopped watching the show after the first season.
I reckon the science is settled so no need to debate. We aren’t doomed. We are dead. It was nice knowin’ ya’s.
On a more serious note, if you are on your motor scooter, put the damn cell phone away!
At least he’s wearing a helmet.
Alright, I reckon that’s just about enough for now. Let me leave with you a couple of pics of my boys:
Lucky to Buddy: “Take it easy! I’m a lover, not a fighter!”Buddy to Lucky: “That’s okay, I’m a fighter AND a lover!”
Yes, my dogs are gay. Not that there is anything wrong with that.
I was in for a bit of a surprise yesterday evening. I arrived at Alley Cats expecting a few folks would be there, but instead the place was packed. And I was greeted with a hearty “happy birthday, Kuya John!” I was stunned and a little embarrassed. Being the center of attention in a big crowd is really not my thing, but of course I went along with it, offering gracious and sincere thank yous.
There was food……and a cake.The Filipino-style birthday song followed by me blowing out a candle.I was gifted a case of my favorite beer…And got lots of hugs and affection from the female guests…Birthday boy eats first and it was all good……including the best damn cole slaw I’ve had since back when my mom was around to make it. Chock full of goodness and I was gifted this large bowl full to take home and enjoy!
So it turned out to be a good night. Despite my discomfort I was genuinely moved that so many people wanted to share time with me on my birthday. I know I rag a lot about being alone, a loner, and/or lonely; but damn, I was reminded that in just a little over a year I’ve met some good people that consider me a friend. It really did make me feel that I’ve found a home.
In the virtual world, I was astounded with the greetings I was besieged with on Facebook. They ran the gamut of the high school girlfriend, two of my ex-wives, friends from my Postal Service days, people I knew when I worked in DC, Korea peeps, folks from South Carolina, friends I’ll be seeing next week in Vietnam, and of course my kids and other family members. It may be hell to grow old, but you do acquire some nice memories with the people you have met along the road of life.
So yeah, it was a good birthday and a good time to reflect on all the positives I’ve been blessed with. I probably tend to dwell on the negatives way out of proportion to their importance or meaning in my life. I’ll try to hold on to the good thoughts and warm feelings as I plod along in this sixty-fourth year on planet Earth.
Are you boys ready to roll?oops, looks like Lucky is going to make a run for it!
Nah, he knows not to bite the hand that feeds him!
I hope the day will be a lighter highway For friends are found on every road Can you ever think of any better way For the lost and weary travelers to go?
Making friends for the world to see Let the people know you got what you need With a friend at hand you will see the light If your friends are there then every thing’s all right
It seems to me a crime that we should age These fragile times should never slip us by A time you never can or shall erase As friends together watch their childhood fly
Making friends for the world to see Let the people know you got what you need With a friend at hand you will see the light If your friends are there then every thing’s all right
UPDATE: Well, how about that? I used “party hardy” back in May 2016 as well. Back then it was a friend’s birthday party and an ill-fated wedding party.
Obviously, the answer to Paul McCartney’s question, posed in a song, at least in my case, is no! All the women that I have loved or who have purported to love me, disappeared from my life long before I reached the ripe old age of 64. Heh! They don’t know what they’re missing!
Anyway, it’s rather amusing to look back to those youthful days when that tune was a hit. I had no concept of what being 64 meant, other than it made you ancient. But now that I’m here, I don’t feel particularly old and/or decrepit. I’m certainly more active than I’ve been in years. This morning’s weekly stats report from Fitbit offer confirmation:
160,404 steps taken, for an average of 22.915 per day. That exceeds my 20,000 daily step goal.
I walked 123.28 kilometers last week. Not bad for an old guy!
I burned an average of 3766 calories per day, which is a good thing given the beer calories I’ve been consuming.
I’m getting 6.36 hours of sleep per night which is about right for me.
My resting heart rate averages 64 beats per minute, which is a healthy sign.
The blood pressure (assisted by meds) is consistently in the high 120s/ low 130s range, with diastolic readings at 90 or below. So, while not ideal it is far better than it used to be and good enough for an old fucker I reckon.
I could stand to lose another 10 to 15 pounds (I’m currently at 203). Damn ice cream!
Suffice to say, as much as it sucks to get old, it beats the hell out of the alternative. So I intend to keep on keeping on.
You know, I do sometimes fantasize about Japanese porn going back in time. Like say, 50 years ago. In 1969 I was entering my freshman year of high school. If I only knew then what I know today! Lots of things I’d do differently of course, but then, I’d likely make other mistakes, and no telling how that might turn out. Still, it’s kind of fun to think about the life I’d live both before and after purchasing IPO stock in Microsoft, Apple, and Google.
Maybe that’s all just a pipe dream, but I was walking down the highway the other day and I got pretty excited when I saw this:
Alas, it seems to be a case of false advertising. They weren’t selling tickets for a journey to the past after all…
So it looks like I’m stuck with the life I’ve lived. And the one that is yet to come. My body may be older than it was, but in my mind this is what I see:
Everybody’s so different, I haven’t changed. Well, I am drinking higher quality beer these days, so there’s that.
“Age has no reality except in the physical world. The essence of a human being is resistant to the passage of time. Our inner lives are eternal, which is to say that our spirits remain as youthful and vigorous as when we were in full bloom. Think of love as a state of grace, not the means to anything, but the alpha and omega. An end in itself.”
― Gabriel García Márquez, Love in the Time of Cholera
Yesterday was Hash day and it was a bit of a fiasco of my own making. After a morning full of sunshine the rains came pouring down in torrents in the hours preceding the Hash. I made the decision before I left the house that I wasn’t going to go climbing up in the mountains under these conditions. So I carried my umbrella instead of my walking stick. And wouldn’t you know it? Just a few minutes prior to departure time the rain stopped, the sky turned blue, and the sun was shining brightly. The Hares to their credit, went back out to remark the trail, and most of the kennel followed them shortly thereafter. I stuck by my decision and just walked the streets for an hour, but by all accounts it was a perfectly fine trail. I really regretted being such a wuss.
So, I get to our “On-Home” at Midnight Rambler ahead of the group and grab a menu. I rarely go to this venue other than for the Hash. They have a small restaurant run by a Brit and called the BBC. And they had a whole menu page devoted to pies:
It’s apparently their specialty! I splurged on the Cornish Pasty because I’d never had one before.This is what it looked like. Now, clearly I could see the difference in a pasty from the pies I’d experienced at other restaurants. And I could see how they had folded up the crust in a similar fashion as I’d seen Kevin Kim demonstrate on his blog. Now, mine was supposed to come with mashed potatoes instead of chips, but I was there for pasty, so what does it matter?And this was by far my best meat pie/pasty experience yet. The crust was firm without being dry, tasty without overwhelming the delicious and plentiful meat. So, Midnight Rambler/BBC is the place to go in Barretto when you have a hankering for this English delicacy. At least so far.
As I dined on my flavorful pasty, the Hashers trickled in from the trail and I felt like a heel for not having been out with them. But more beers eased that pain. And then it was time for the Hash circle.
Now, there is a Hash tradition that honors Harriers celebrating birthdays by preparing them a cake. I had hoped to avoid this recognition given that my birthday was the following day, but apparently that was close enough. And so I got my cake:
Eggs, flour, sugar, oil, and some yeast in the form of beer. All mixed together on my head. I was thankful there was no oven nearby!
And that was last night. Nothing special about today thus far. Grocery shopping, a brief walk, and I guess some sort of get together at Alley Cats later this afternoon.
Time marches on and so do I.
When I get older losing my hair Many years from now Will you still be sending me a valentine Birthday greetings, bottle of wine? If I’d been out till quarter to three Would you lock the door? Will you still need me, will you still feed me When I’m sixty four?
While I’m really not anti-social, I’m a bit of an introvert and don’t much care for large get-togethers unless I know the participants well. Gunter, aka Vienna Sausage, a fellow Hasher and de facto leader of the Wednesday walking group, has invited me to join gatherings at his place several times. I’ve always been non-committal about attending and subsequently never showed up. So, he was having a surprise birthday party for his girlfriend (also a Hasher–“Goes with a Dick”) yesterday and more or less insisted that I come. Well, not that I felt obligated, but I didn’t really have any Sunday evening plans other than sitting around drinking, so why not?
I had a general idea of where Gunter lives but no clue on how to get there. Troy (Demolition Derby) was playing darts at Alley Cats in the afternoon, so I met up with him there and after the tourney he showed me the way to the party. I made a batch of brownies to take along for the birthday girl. I also baked some cupcakes for the gals at Alley Cats and they seemed to go over well.
While I was waiting for Troy to finish with darts, I found myself seated at the same table with Steve, the Englishman who doesn’t drink. Although we’ve gone mano a mano at the dart boards several times, I’d never really talked to the guy before. Well, I’m nothing if not polite (shuddup!) so I asked him where he’s from in England. He told me Plymouth, a place I’ve actually heard of–people say Plymouth rocks! *ahem*. Steve also said that he had spent the past 22 years in Spain. I’ve never been to Spain, but I kinda like the music (yeah, there’s no stopping me!). I asked him what he did in Spain and he responded that he owns a bar there! I admit to being gobsmacked by that fact.
I couldn’t resist the urge to ask why a guy who doesn’t drink would own a bar? He laughed and said he’d only stopped drinking a year ago. And he stopped because his drinking was out of control. Good for him! Anyway, his rented the bar out now and seems to be enjoying his new life in the Philippines. I asked how he spends his time here and he responded he likes playing darts (duh!) and walking. I invited him to come out for the Hash and Wednesday Walkers and he expressed interest in doing so. And now we are Facebook friends to boot. See, I’m not anti-social!
Troy finished with darts and we made our way to the party at Gunter’s. Drank some beers, ate some food, had some small talk with my fellow guests, and sang Happy Birthday.
It turns out everyone there was a Hasher, so I wasn’t amongst strangers at least…
Still, I was the first to say my “goodnights” and head on out. I did pop into the Man Cave bar on my walk home. Called one of the dancers down for a couple of drinks and had a pretty good time I think.
This morning I woke up in a fog.
Literally.
The fog eventually lifted, and lo and behold, we had us some blue skies for a change. I took advantage and hoofed it over to Arizona for breakfast. My waitress, Grace, greeted me by name. And she told me she had seen me walking the other morning while she was coming out of the drug store and she called out “Hi John!”, but I had ignored her. Hmm, I had no recollection of that event. I probably just didn’t hear her, but I told her that I have women calling out to me all day long and if I stopped to answer I’d never get my steps in. She didn’t seem too impressed with that response.
Anyway, after she took my order she started asking me about Busan. I honestly don’t recall ever mentioning Korea to her but obviously I must have said something about having lived there. I told her Busan was a great city and I had always enjoyed visiting there. She asked me about working there as a Filipino and all I could say was that Busan is a little cheaper than Seoul to live in, and that I had met many Filipinos in Korea who were living a comfortable life. She was evasive when I asked her why she was interested in Busan, so I let it go.
Finished my morning steps, took a nap, and wrote this blog post. After being sunny most of the day, it has clouded up again and is currently pouring down rain. It appears my hopes for a dry Hash today have been washed away. Along with most of the trail markings the Hares (Demolition Derby and Vienna Sausage) put down this morning no doubt.
Ah well, if it keeps on raining like this the Hash today will just be another social event on my calendar. It’s all good.
Well, I’ve never been to Spain But I kinda like the music Say the ladies are insane there And they sure know how to use it
They don’t abuse it Never gonna lose it I can’t refuse it
Well, I’ve never been to England But I kinda like the Beatles Well, I headed for Las Vegas Only made it out to Needles
Can you feel it? Must be near it Feels so good Oh, it feels so good
Well, I’ve never been to heaven But I’ve been to Oklahoma Oh, they tell me I was born there But I really don’t remember
In Oklahoma, not Arizona What does it matter? What does it matter?
I got a big smile from commenter Kevin Kim’s link to his review of the movie “Rush”; a film about the competition between racing greats James Hunt, an Englishman, and Niki Lauda from Austria. Kevin jokingly equated their epic battles to my struggles with my darts nemesis, Steve the Englishman who doesn’t drink.
Well, as fate would have it, I crossed swords darts with Steve again last night. This time it was in the 501 doubles tourney at Alley Cats bar. Steve is consistently better than me, but when I’m on my game I can hold my own with him. The wild card in doubles is who you draw as a partner, and last night my partner was a tad better than his. So in that sense it was a pretty equal match. Naturally we wound up facing off in the winners bracket, where me and Gerlie took a hard fought 2-1 victory. Steve and his partner came back through the loser’s bracket and we went at it again in the tourney finals. That match was about as close as it could be, but once again, Gerlie and I prevailed 2-1.
We are the champions my friend, and we kept on fighting till the end…
Or maybe we just got lucky. Speaking of Lucky:
Lucky established himself as the dominant male dog of the house by killing Buddy this morning. Or so it would appear.
I’m kidding of course. But Lucky has come a long way:
This is how Lucky looked the day he came to live with me. Skinny and hungry he was…And he also had a horrific case of the mange going on…more scabs than fur…These days Lucky is fat, dumb, and happy….
I’m not kidding about the dumb part. He truly is the stupidest dog I’ve ever owned. I love him anyway of course. But damn…
You better watch what you say You better watch what you do to me Don’t get carried away Girl, if you can do better than me, go Yeah, go, but remember
Good love is hard to find Good love is hard to find You got lucky, babe You got lucky, babe, when I found you
You put a hand on my cheek And then you turned your eyes away If you don’t feel complete If I don’t take you all of the way, then go Yeah, go, but remember
Good love is hard to find Good love is hard to find You got lucky, babe You got lucky, babe, when I found you
