Or so, at least, it seems. I’m not in Biden territory quite yet, but I’m making strides in that direction. My memory seems to be fading faster than my eyesight, but I can’t get glasses for my brain. I have to do a mental checklist whenever I leave the house–phone, vapes, wallet, darts–or else I’ll invariably get halfway down the street and have an, “Oh, shit”, moment. I’m notorious for bad grammar and punctuation, but these days, even shit I know, I get wrong. I’m thinking, “their”, but my brain tells my fingers to type “there”. As many mistakes as you readers see published here, you would be surprised to see all that I catch when I proofread. And obviously, all that I miss. But what happened yesterday really left me shaking my head.

When I do my solo hikes, I carry my headphones with me so I can listen to music along the way. About 1K into my walk, I reached up to my collar to hit the on-switch. Except it wasn’t there. I removed the headphones from around my neck to see what the problem was, only to discover that I wasn’t wearing headphones. At least I didn’t try to plug the USB charger cable into my ears. Geez.

Even with my impaired mental functioning, I still managed to pull this off:

Sunday has become to my default day to visit Cheap Charlies bar. I baked the brownies as a treat for the brown knees who work there. I saw a customer help himself to one, which kind of irked me a little, but then I realized I was being a petty jerk. The beer was cold, the company was friendly, the chatter inane. A typical night at the bar.

That was then, this is now. And by now I mean it’s Hash Monday. I’d put the Hare’s in the “sane” category, although last time they did include a climb that required a rope. We’ll see what’s in store, and you’ll likely hear about it here (at least I got the hear/here right) tomorrow.

Thanks for dropping in!

Holy hell, I feel like a new man. Almost as if I was born again. It’s a good feeling to roll the stone of illness away and arise as a healthy man. I’m not saying it’s a miracle, but at least I’m not stuck hanging around the house and feeling cross now. Having my freedom to move about resurrected is a blessing that has lifted my spirits. Praise the healing power of faith in the restoration of good health. Alright, I don’t mean to make it sound like a religious experience or anything. Can I get an Amen to that?

Speaking of resurrection, I just had a weird encounter with a ghost from Easter past. I’ve gotten in the habit of doing a quick search to make sure I’ve not used the title for a post previously. Originally, I was going to call this one “Holy Hell”, but I discovered that last May I did a post with that name. The search results also brought up a post from June 2005 I called “And so begins the task“. This is how it begins:

Some things in life just don’t turn out the way we had imagined or intended. And sometimes the consequences for actions and bad decisions are harsh. Hell, devastating. The past few weeks I’ve felt my life spinning out of control and I have felt powerless to do a thing about it. I’m a dreaming man, and dreams for me die hard.

So I have been incredibly sad. Full of regret and remorse and a fair amount of self-loathing.

But that doesn’t change a thing. I have to take responsibility for my mistakes, just as I also must take responsibility for my life, such as it is. I am powerless to change the past. And I can not live in the past.

I know I can be a bit melodramatic at times, but damn, it seems like I must have been going through some serious shit. Except for the life of me, I can’t remember what the hell was going on back then. I thought maybe it was the end of marriage number three, but the timing doesn’t seem right. I had only been in Korea for six months at that point. Things ended with Carol when she declined to join me in Seoul, as we had agreed, after daughter Hillary returned from deployment in Afghanistan. That would have been well after June 2005. No idea what was going on when I wrote that post.

The other thing that stands out is that I quoted Kevin Kim’s Easter meditation: put it down at length in my post. It remains one of my all-time favorites of his, and the coincidence of me coming across it on Easter Sunday sixteen years later is a little mind-boggling.

Since I and a few people I know are all going through a painful period, each of us for various reasons, I thought it might be good to write about “putting it down.”

In Zen Buddhism, the maxim is “don’t make anything.” Your mind is so often the source of your troubles. You choose to face the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune either negatively or positively. Often, at the beginning of a troublesome period in your life, it is difficult to realize how responsible you are for your own choices. It’s easier to shift blame to your surroundings. But ultimately, the healthiest route out of the forest of troubles is to start by looking in a mirror. Behold what’s actually there; don’t needlessly manufacture problems for yourself and others.

I’m not a scriptural literalist, so I don’t believe Jesus rose from the dead. But the story of the passion and resurrection nevertheless holds power for me, because it’s a story about a man who put everything down, including his own life, for the sake of love. How many of us can claim to be ready and willing to do something like that? Not many, I suspect.

Most of us, like little children, cling desperately to our cherished notions, preconceptions, and delusions, unwilling to countenance truth and change. We face the world with fear, and create clever rationales for our spiritual cowardice. In a crisis period, this instinct intensifies. The ego swells to enormous size– everything is about getting hurt, everything is about me, me, me. The world doesn’t understand my pain, and only I am in pain!

I’ve felt like that before. I’ve looked out at a street full of people and wondered why they didn’t see my agony, which was plain as day to me. The world kept right on turning, resisting my egocentric interpretation of it.

And there’s a lesson in that. Life is change, ceaseless change. All we have is this moment. If we try to keep the past with us, we merely create more suffering for ourselves. If we try to hold on to our anger, or our hurt, or whatever it is we’re feeling, we poison ourselves.

It’s better simply to put it all down.

I must have taken Kevin’s words of wisdom to heart–I’ve put whatever it was that was troubling me back then so far down I don’t even remember what it was!

I did go back and look at some of my other posts from that timeframe looking for a clue and didn’t find one. But I did discover this:

In my personal life I am just filling time these days. Last night, my Air Force buddy, Jeff, called and interrupted a game of CIV so we could meet at Caroline’s for a couple of beers. We wound up playing darts. I can’t remember the last time I’ve tried to hit a dart board, but it has probably been over 20 years ago. I assumed my darts would be worse than my pool, but surprisingly I played pretty well. Not well enough to win (Jeff is really good), but most of the time it came down to who got the last bullseye first. I really enjoyed myself and I’m thinking with some practice I might actually be a decent player.

So, there you have it. I began my darts “career” on June 16, 2005. What a life!

Enough with the past, the future is now! Since I was feeling better by yesterday afternoon, and noting that my fever had be gone for 36 hours, I deemed it safe for me to venture out of the house for some, um, exercise. I took it easy on myself and did the short walk to Baloy Beach. Then I saw the floating bar and thought “why not?”. I told myself I would make sure to practice social distancing, just in case. And that’s just what I did!

It was late in the afternoon on a Saturday and the floater was in full swing. I secured a seat at the far end of the bar and safely observed the goings-on. The first thing I noticed was the crowd was not the usual locals I’m used to seeing around. Quite a few of them were actually young looking (yeah, that stands out in a community of retired fuckers) and it appeared they had brought their own womenfolk with them, much to the chagrin of the local bargirls present, no doubt.

Turns out the other guests on the floating bar had come up from Angeles City, which is currently on full lockdown. That means no bars or restaurants are open at all. I’m hearing reports from around town that it was a booming weekend for the Barretto bars as those with the means made their escape from AC. Good for them!

I wasn’t going to push my luck (or anyone else’s) so I confined myself to my seat in the open air floater. I don’t think it gets much safer than that. Had myself some beers and did what I do best–watched the sun go down.

As I mentioned at the beginning of this post, I woke up feeling healthy and refreshed. I figured the best way to celebrate was a nice morning walk. Wanna join me?

Thanks for coming along. Its nice to feel normal again. Not like this guy:

…but it’s free.

I’m not sure you could squeeze any more emptiness into a day than I managed to do yesterday. Never left the house. Didn’t drink a beer. Slept for eleven and a half hours, pretty much double my daily dose. As for walking, here’s what my Fitbit had to say:

Comparatively speaking, I feel practically normal today. Whatever in the hell that is, I did the dog walk and was considering a modest morning hike, but then decided to not push myself today. I want this over and done with, once and for all. I think I’m close.

Outside the walls of my comfortable prison, the world appears to be going on as it always has. Or at least the begging requests (hungry and/or sick kids seem to be this week’s theme) continue apace. For the most part, I just ignore them and that seems to get the message across. I got a new one from Rose Ann this week that illustrates the mentality of some of these gals.

Some quick background on Rose, I met her long ago when she was working at Cheap Charlies. I wrote about the time I happened upon her outside of work:

Some long-ago day I was out on one of my walks and passing through one of the poorer sections of town. Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted a young woman’s backside. As I enjoyed the view she turned around and gave me a big smile. “Hello, John,” she said. I was dumbfounded and had no idea who she was. Seeing my confusion, she told me “I work at Cheap Charlies”. So, it took me a few visits before I could find that ass face again, but ever since I’ve enjoyed sharing a drink with her.

Anyway, I’ve always been a little sweet on her and I still occasionally see her when i pass through the neighborhood on my hikes. She’s not been back to Cheap Charlies since the early days of the pandemic. She used to have an Australian “boyfriend” sending her support, but I guess that’s ended now (her Facebook status says “single” again). I know she has a couple of kids and I’m pretty sure she has a Filipino boyfriend/husband. Of course, none of that is any of my business, but she does occasionally initiate contact out of the blue. Usually when she wants or needs something.

Several months ago she was looking for work–did I need a housekeeper? I told her I have a live-in helper, but my masseuse had recently moved and I was looking for a replacement. She said she didn’t know how to do massage, but I told her that her shoulder rubs in Cheap Charlies were always very nice. She made it clear she wasn’t interested though, and that was that. This week I get a message saying her kids are hungry and she would like me to wire her P2500. I ignored the request. Later she came back asking for P1000, but I still wasn’t budging.

Then she got a little smarter, she actually chatted me up some. Asked about hiking, teased me about bringing her cookies, and the like. I invited her to join me on a hike, but she gave me a “some other time” response. Okay then. “Oh, by the way, can you loan me 500 pesos so I can buy food?” Sure, I told her, you gonna come by the house to pick it up? (we are 15 minutes apart on foot). “Can you wire the money?” No was my response, and I haven’t heard from her since.

That’s the part I don’t get. Why play me for a sucker? If you really need money for your hungry kids, come on over and give me a lousy massage and I’ll give you some cash. If you find the thought of touching me disgusting, then at least act like we are friends–join me on a hike, make me feel special. If that ain’t worth it to you, the bring your pathetic self to my house and pick up the cash in person. I live closer than any of the money exchange places you want me to wire it to. Why should I have to go through that hassle to give you money?

Anyway, that’s the latest example. Things must be tough, there have been several others.

In what I think is unrelated news, I learned a new term today: solo polyamory:

It described a person who is romantically involved with many people but is not seeking a committed relationship with anyone. What makes this different from casual dating is that they’re not looking for a partner, and the relationship isn’t expected to escalate to long-term commitments, like marriage or children. More important, the relationship isn’t seen as wasted time or lacking significance because it doesn’t lead to those things.

Hmm, kind of like my “friends with benefits” charity program. Honestly though, I think there are always strings attached. I’m pretty sure Joy wants more than I’m giving, both emotionally and financially, but she’s trying to figure out how to get there from here. You can’t. I’m sure she’ll figure that out soon enough. I’m not totally satisfied either, but it’s the best option available at the moment for a polyamorous bastard like me.

And that’s about all I’ve got for today. Well, other than this:

My calendar promised me that I was going to have a good Friday. It hasn’t turned out that way. I have actually slept more than I’ve been awake today. And even after the naps, I don’t feel refreshed at all. I’ve been complaining about low energy levels for several days now, but I’ve never experienced anything like this before. Even if I wanted to go out tonight, and I don’t–that would be irresponsible, I honestly don’t think I could make the ten-minute walk to the nearest bar. I expect I’ll remain homebound at least until I can start feeling asymptomatic. I really, really hope that will happen sometime over the weekend, but perhaps I’m being overly optimistic. We’ll see.

As I mentioned in the comments to an earlier post, my fever has at least dropped back to the normal range. I’ve checked it several times today, and although it fluctuates some, it has not risen above 37.5 (it’s 37.1 as I write this). Other than the lethargy and some light-headedness, the other warning signs of COVID still don’t seem to be in evidence. Well, I’ve had a cough, albeit a wet one, and that’s pretty normal for me with my damaged lungs. So, I don’t think I have a lot to worry about, but I need to be cautious so as not to spread whatever this is to innocent bystanders.

And for the record, there are places I can go to get a quick and easy COVID-test. My fear remains, however, that a positive test result would create a shit storm of contact tracing and my potential confinement in a quarantine facility. That’s a nightmare I don’t want to endure. I’ll get through this at home.

I already miss the great outdoors!

I’d hate to miss Monday’s Hash and break my consecutive hikes streak. Even in the best case scenario, I just don’t see me climbing Easter mountain though. Hopefully, I can do my own trail out to the On-Home, which would keep my record intact. We’ll see.

Back in the “good ol’ days”, like last night, I’d be looking forward to some beers in one of my favorite venues. I did the newest bar in town yesterday, and this is an actual text message exchange I had:

You out?

Yes.

Where are you?

It doesn’t matter.

Okay, fine. Be that way!

And yes, I did point out to the owner that he’s missing an apostrophe. Heh! A bar with bad punctuation. I should fit right in!

It’s funny and sad I guess. We take our normal routines for granted until something happens and everything changes. Still, I expect this is only gonna be a short term setback. Don’t it always seem to go, that you don’t know what you’ve got ’till it’s gone… Right, Joni Mitchell?

I woke up feeling so special today. Not sure what’s up with that.

First things first–YES, COMMENTS ARE ALLOWED AND WELCOME HERE! Don’t let WordPress or whatever is responsible for saying otherwise dissuade you. I heard from a regular commenter this week that my platform rejected his comment. As of yesterday, he was able to comment again. I turned off one of my spam filters and added the “s” to my HTTP address, and hoped that would resolve future issues. But today I got this email:

I tried to comment, but there isn’t the verification of reading skills anymore and I got an error saying spam blocked. Anywho, I was going to say that there are probably few that like to pay for sex (even though this is what marriage often is), but that it sounded like you had found a win-win situation. Set boundaries, reinforce them, and be prepared to walk away if she gets crazy. QP1973

Thanks, QP. All I can ask is that you try again. And for anyone else experiencing this problem, please shoot me an email (lngtimegne@aol.com) and let me know. I’ll try and get to the bottom of what is going on.

Not a whole lot else happening around here. Did the group hike yesterday and intentionally asked for a hard climb, just to see how my body would respond. Not well, as it turns out. Just don’t seem to have the lung capacity required to get me to the top without difficulty. That doesn’t bode well for Monday’s Easter mountain hike. We’ll see, I haven’t given up hope quite yet.

I didn’t do darts last night, instead choosing to drink my daily beer ration on the back deck of the Palm Tree resort hotel.

Yeah, I’m funny when you’re drunk.

I apologize for the emptiness of this post. I had good intentions, but they day got away from me before I knew it. Started this morning when once again, I had to take a nap BEFORE my daily walk. Then another nap when I got back. And one more nap before I sat down to write this post. And now I have business in town. So, I’ll do a better job posting tomorrow. Or try to anyway.

I really need to get my shit together, that’s for sure.

Hopefully, that’s all I’ve been spreading lately. I was surprised when a vehicle and driver I didn’t recognize pulled up in front of the house to take me grocery shopping yesterday. I found out later that my regular driver, Danny, isn’t feeling well. With Linda’s recently reported illness, that means everyone in the car on the trip to Angeles City has been under the weather. I can’t speak for the others, but I still don’t believe my ailment is COVID-related. Perhaps I’m being willfully ignorant in that regard, but I don’t think so based on what I’ve read. And I’m not even tempted to get a test, the accuracy of which is at best suspect.

So then, my big news from yesterday was the second physical meeting with Joy, my new friend with benefits. We’ve been chatting on a daily basis and that’s gone reasonably well. Joy has hinted around at some things I’m not comfortable with, but backs down right away when I reject her overtures. For example, she asked a few days ago if she could spend the night with me. I told her no, I was not interested in that kind of relationship. She played it off like she was teasing, and that’s fine. She seems to have got the message that whatever this is, it is never going to be more than this.

Anyway, Joy arrived at the appointed hour. I had promised her some lunch, so I asked her if she would like to eat my balls? She said she would later, but now could she have lunch please? Yeah, that really happened. She laughed when I put a bowl of meatballs in front of her. I have noticed, generally speaking, that for a purported “English-speaking” country, the level and quality of spoken English can be disappointing. I’ve noted that Joy and I often don’t understand each other, which can be a little frustrating. Says the man who speaks almost no Tagalog.

After lunch, we went upstairs. Joy offered me a massage and I, of course, accepted. She did a decent job for someone without training. When the massage was completed, she removed her clothes and laid down next to my naked body. And then nature took its course, and I must say, we synched very nicely and had a mutually enjoyable session of lovemaking. Well, it wasn’t about “love”, but you know what I mean.

Once the deed was done, we got dressed and came back downstairs and had a beer. I gave her the standard fee of 3000 pesos, then gave her an additional 2000 so she could have a nice birthday party for her daughter later this week. She seemed genuinely moved and gave me a big hug. We finished our beers and then she left to go home.

So, what is my assessment of our most recent encounter? As I mentioned, the sex was good. Better than good, actually, and I think part of that is because it wasn’t strictly a “pay for play” proposition. Also, after a month or so of low-intensity chats, we at least have a nice comfort level with one another. In that sense at least, my friend with benefits strategy paid off. I got some sexual satisfaction and Joy got the rent paid and money for her daughter. Win-win, right? Well, honestly, not quite. I mean, I have no complaints and it felt good to know that I’ve brought some, er, joy into Joy’s life. Still, truth be told it still feels a little hollow and meaningless. I’m not sure what I was expecting, but my almost perfectly executed strategy still leaves me unfulfilled. On the other hand, I’m not dealing with all the baggage that comes with having a girlfriend, so maybe I should just count my blessings and move on. It is what it is.

*Hat tip to commenter Bob for suggesting the title for today’s post.

I honestly have no idea what ails me, but I’m sick and tired of being sick and tired. Yeah, whatever it was, or is, is back. The worst aspect of my condition is that I just don’t have any energy. This morning I had to do an abbreviated dog walk, came back home, then took a nap. I was up for an hour or so, then went upstairs and slept some more. Woke up, checked the computer, then decided to watch some TV. I fell asleep on the couch. That’s not like me at all and I hope I get over this lethargy soon. I need to walk!

Speaking of which, I did manage to get my Friday group hike in yesterday. Only four of us altogether, and Troy took the lead. He’s the Hare on Monday so we did part of his trail in reverse. I think we did around 7K, but by the time we got back to Alta Vista, I was whupped. I didn’t even have the energy to hoof it over to Cheap Charlies, so I invited the group to my place for beers and chicken nuggets. It was a good finish to the hike.

Last night I headed over to Alley Cats to play in the dart tourney. Once I arrived, I just wasn’t feeling it somehow. Not sure if that is a manifestation of my illness or something else. Finished my beer and left. I don’t think I’m going to play tonight either. Just not motivated.

I did, of course, enjoy me some Friday night beverages. Cheap Charlies to start, then over to Palm Tree, Went next door to Mango’s, and brought home some roast chicken for dinner. In bed before 9:00 as usual, but I slept poorly–a 59 sleep score on my Fitbit. I’m usually in the high 70s.

Anyway, it’s bound to get better one day soon.

Resting in place, that’s about all I’ve been doing these past couple of days. I’m a wuss when it comes to being sick, so I reckon I should just be thankful that whatever it is that ails me is relatively minor. My temperature this morning was back down to the normal (for me) 36.4. The cough is also diminishing in frequency. The two main symptoms that remain are some body aches (shoulders and arms) and a lack of energy that leaves me feeling lethargic. Aspirin works for the pain and I have an excuse for being lazy–win-win!

So, based on my reasoned self-diagnosis, I’ve decided to participate in today’s Hash. At least as best as I am able. I’ve got a streak of 71 consecutive runs, currently the best in the pack, and I’m loathe to break that string. Well, at least until I can get on a fucking airplane again. Anyway, I’ll be prepared to shortcut/bail as necessary. Leech My Nuggets is the Hare and the On-Home is at his newly constructed house which just happens to be on the next street over from me. I won’t have any trouble getting home tonight!

Just how boring has my self-quarantine been? Well, I watched TV for the first time since being locked down last year. Okay, technically I watched TV shows, but I did so on my laptop. Yep, a 53-inch smart TV in the living room, and I was too damn lazy to move my sorry ass in there to watch on the big screen. Hey, I blame whatever it is that ails me. So, I went old school and watched some Alfred Hitchcock Presents and a couple of episodes from One Step Beyond. I’m so old I remember those series from when they were on the air. Both shows have held up pretty well I reckon, and it was cool to see the world from a late 50s perspective. And they were free on YouTube, although the frequent 5-second ads were annoying. It was a pleasant enough way to fill the time when I wasn’t napping, though.

A commenter on yesterday’s post, Kevin Kim, inadvertently reminded me of another of my unmet Facebook friends. I’ve not written about Bherna previously. We chatted for a while, and like the others, she was keen on setting up an in-person meeting.

We never did wind up getting together. Turns out she was just a little too honest. Why might that be a problem? Well, she let me know that she was a girl with something extra. That something being a penis. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t judge a person based on their sexual orientation or gender identity. But I’m a pussy bigot, it’s all I like, and all I want. In an effort to change my mind, Bherna sent me a video clip of her eating a banana. She does appear to be talented, but not enough to tempt me. Reminds me of the story about a guy who was dating a bakla (ladyboy). His friend asked him, “what makes you think she is a real girl?” He answered, “I can feel it inside of me”. Ouch!

That’s all I’ve got for today. Assuming I survive the Hash I’ll be back with more of this nothingness tomorrow.

Not to be confused with a roll in the hay. But I had one of those too. So, here’s the ups and downs, ins and outs, and the lowdown for the past 24 hours.

I changed my mind at the last minute and played in the Alley Cats darts tourney. Another big turnout which makes for a long night. Me and my partner made it to the finals but could not overcome the superior dart throwing of Billy and Nancy. No shame in second place though!

Max, one of the guys in our hiking groups and a fellow Hasher, didn’t join us yesterday. He reports having a cough, a fever, and generally feeling like shit. Given those symptoms, he has wisely chosen to self-quarantine for a while. Did I mention he was also in Angeles City last weekend? And that he rode with me in the car getting there and back? In what I’m sure is totally unrelated news, our hotel in AC was being used to house quarantined passengers arriving at the airport. Of course, we didn’t know this until we saw suspiciously placed chairs outside room doors where meals in Styrofoam containers were placed each morning and evening.

Just checked my temperature–36.4. No other symptoms except lethargy, but that’s not unusual for an old geezer like me. 17,000+ steps so far today. Let’s hope I’m just spreading good cheer!

So, I met Joy today. She seems very sweet, actually. Sexy too. She claims to have never eaten a burrito before and said she enjoyed the one I made for her. It might be true, she wanted to take home some leftovers to share with the family. Gave her some cash after we ate, but she still wanted to come upstairs with me. She’s a cuddly thing, and I like that. We got down to business, and being the gentleman that I am, I finished quickly so she could head back home. She seemed disappointed and had an “already?” look about her. No idea what’s up with that. She expressed some interest in getting together again sometime prior to her daughter’s birthday on April 1. I was non-committal, but I’d probably be willing to give her another go.

Oddly enough, I didn’t feel guilty at all. We both got what we came for. More or less. Today I received yet another unsolicited entreaty from another FB “friend” I’ve never met. So far the desire to respond is non-existent. Guess I am feeling satisfied.

Yesterday’s walking group hike went fine for the most part. Troy led us on a surprisingly difficult trail with two ups, and the first was a long-ass climb. Apparently, he’s scouting some possibilities for the trail he is gonna Hare soon. As seems to be the norm on our hikes, we lost the trail at one point and had to blaze our way down a steep hill. It was tough going, and about halfway down I lost my footing and took a pretty big tumble. I don’t recall ever having my hat and glasses come flying off during a fall. Luckily, I found both items in the grass and leaves. No injuries either, but it is that kind of crash that I fear when I hike alone. Anyway, I lived to write this post. You’re welcome!

The Hare (Vienna Sausage/Guenter) for our Easter trail is gearing up for that hike and posted this heads up today:

If you want to see some photos from our Wednesday hike, here they are:

Or maybe just a new pastime. I report, you decide. But before I get to that, here is how my lazy Tuesday went down:

As usual, I went to Royal for my weekly grocery shopping. I am happy to report that my tab was just a little over my $250. goal. I’d call that progress. $150 less than two weeks ago. That’s how much I’m saving without bringing my helpers along to fill the cart.

Back at home, I had to invoke Rule #1 again. This request was a bit more twisted than usual. A female Hasher, who is in a relationship with another Hasher, gave me her sad story and asked me for a “loan”. Seems her long-term boyfriend has put her on a budget and she can’t abide by that. Well, I sure as hell ain’t getting in the middle of that kind of domestic situation. And since she is in a relationship with someone I know, I can’t do my standard quid pro quo offer. I responded in my normal fashion to this type of request. Silence. I thought it was funny when I saw that an hour or so later she had deleted her message. Guess she was afraid I’d show it to the wrong person or something. Ah well, these are hard times for many but I’m working hard to lose my reputation as a sucker.

So, if I’m not a sucker, what does that make me? Here’s the latest weirdness to happen in my life. I’ve accepted several Facebook friend requests from women I’ve never previously met. The only connection we have is some mutual FB friends. A couple of them have been sending me messages since then asking me to meet them. For a while, I just ignored them. They persisted though, and I eventually sent some brief responses along the lines of “not today, busy”, “sorry, going out of town”, but they didn’t take the hint. It got me wondering about their motivation. Which led me to engage with Elley, just to see what her deal was.

Elley asked again to meet me. I asked her what she had in mind. She said I want to come see you at your house. I asked what she wanted to do. She said just drink with you. I told her I don’t drink this early in the day. She responded, okay we just boom-boom (local parlance for having sex). Well, pervert that I am I told her that sounds good. She said she would hop in a trike and come right away. I told her I paid P3000 for short time and she was happy with that amount. I asked how old she was and she told me 20.

She came, so did I, and then she left. I gave her some cookies to give her kid. This morning she sent a message that she wanted to go hiking with me on Sunday and see the mountains. I didn’t respond. This afternoon she asked if she could come over with her cousin. I asked why and she said they were bored. I told her I was busy today. She is not my type to be honest, although I did appreciate the offer to go hiking. The sex was okay, but nothing special. This is probably a one-and-done situation for me and Elley.

This afternoon I had a long and surprisingly enjoyable chat with the other new FB friend, Joy. She is 31 with two kids and is also in financial distress. During the course of our conversation I invited her to lunch tomorrow and she accepted. I’m going to make burritos. I made it clear that I was not looking for a relationship, but that I hoped we could be “friends with benefits”. She was shy about the sex for money thing, but I explained it wasn’t really like that. She needed help that I could provide. The sex was simply her way of saying “thank you”. That concept seemed to ease her mind. I might actually enjoy spending time with this one. We shall see.

Am I taking advantage of these gals? Should I feel guilty about it? You know, they are free to accept or reject my offers. They want and need my help, they have something I want and need in return. Seems like a win-win to me. Tomorrow with Joy I am going to take the same approach I did with Maria. I’ll give her the money at lunchtime. She can stay with me or go if she wants. I actually don’t like paying for sex, but I’ll gladly accept some intimacy’s offered in gratitude for my “generosity”. That’s what I keep telling myself anyway.

Ain’t life grand?

So, about that lunch “date” yesterday. I’m using the word date, although there were not any romantic implications to the meet-up. Maria, like many other folks, has been really struggling financially. Her salary and workhours were reduced so she’s only bringing home 600 pesos ($12.) a week. That’s enough to eat but there’s nothing left over to pay the rent. I told her I’d be willing to help her out with her needs if she would help with mine. She agreed, so I arranged for us to meet up at Sit-n-Bull for lunch prior to taking care of business.

It had been a while since I’ve had Mexican food, so I ordered up a chicken enchilada. Maria opted for a quesadilla, but I had to school her on the proper pronunciation–dee-ah not dill-ah. The enchilada was mediocre and served lukewarm. I was reminded of why I don’t eat much Mexican these days–lots of places offer it, few make it well. Anyway, I was looking forward to dessert at my house!

But here’s the thing. After thinking about the arrangement I wasn’t really comfortable with the implications. Maria is, I think, a good woman in desperate circumstances. I didn’t like the feeling that I was taking advantage of that fact. The other thing is, I really don’t like paying for sex; it is so much more pleasurable when both parties are enthusiastic participants. Or at least freely willing. So I decided to give Maria the money upfront rather than after the act. Her rent was taken care of so it would be a matter of if, and how, she might express her gratitude. I think that there is s subtle difference there, at least in my mind.

So, I slipped Maria the money and invited her to join me on the ten-minute walk to my house. She agreed. We sat at the kitchen table and chatted a bit then I said “let’s go upstairs to the bedroom.” She asked “why”, almost as if we hadn’t made a prior arrangement. I responded, “let’s see what happens”. She somewhat reluctantly followed me up the stairs. Honestly, I was okay either way–she had her rent money, and if that’s all she came for, fine. There wouldn’t be a next time. On the other hand, if she was willing to provide some satisfaction as a way of saying thanks, perhaps she wouldn’t have to worry about next month’s rent.

I laid down on the bed, she went into the bathroom. I heard her mutter something unintelligible, then she cracked the door and asked me to bring her her purse from downstairs. After I retrieved it, she told me she had started her mens and I could see the blood in the toilet if I didn’t believe her. Yuck! No, that won’t be necessary! She took a pad from her purse, went back inside the bathroom, and when she came out she laid down next to me on the bed. She apologized and I said she had nothing to be sorry about. We snuggled some and had a nice little chat. She told me she had never gone with a man for money before. I explained that this was more of a “friends with benefits” situation. We were simply taking care of each other’s needs. She seemed to like that concept and promised me we could get together again in a few days. We’ll see.

I walked her to the street, gave her trike fare, and said goodbye.

Took a nap then hoofed it over to Mango’s.

Today is Hash Monday. Guenter is the Hare. He posted that the Hares will escort the Hashers to the trailhead at 2:30. He also said that he had added another kilometer and another climb to satisfy some folks making the trip from Angeles City. I responded that I am old and slow and wanted to start early, where does the trail begin? He responded that it begins at 2:30 at VFW with the Hare escort. It took all the restraint I had to not respond fuck you and fuck that on the group page. But I’ll say it here–fuck you and fuck that. I’ll do my own trail, asshole. Scott is going to scout around to see if we might be able to locate the trail on our own. Either way, I’m departing the VFW at 2:00 p.m. I’ll go when and where I want and I certainly don’t need anyone’s permission to do so. If I sound a bit angry about this chickenshit power trip the Hare seems to want to impose, it is only because I am.

Oh, well. It’s all good. Look for a full report tomorrow.

Yesterday was my day off, or at least the one day of the week when I change up my regular routines for a different routine. Don’t worry, it’s nothing to get excited about.

Went to the Royal supermarket and as usual, they didn’t have everything I wanted, but I got what I needed.

Came home, took a nap, blogged, had a shower, and headed out.

Hoofed it over to the vape shop and picked up some supplies I’ve been needing.

Found “mama”, the homeless woman I help feed, resting on the street under her umbrella. I had missed her the day before so she was happier than usual to see me.

Found my way to Alley Cats and settled into my usual seat and waited for the dart tournament to commence. I drew a weak partner but we did our best. We avoided being the dreaded “first out” of the tourney, but we failed to make it into the money round. Oh well, that’s the way it goes sometimes.

I ordered up some take-out for delivery from Sit-n-Bull (chicken wings, chicken fingers, and Shanghai lumpia) and of course, shared it with the girls. They seemed to appreciate it. Bought some lady drinks too which pushed my bar tab into the $30. range. It’s good to splurge sometimes I suppose.

Caught a trike home, had a bowl of rocky road ice cream, and was in bed a bit before 9 p.m. What a life, huh?

Well, actually as I sat in the bar last night I got to thinking. Turns out I’m happy to be here. It’s not the life I thought I would have but overall it’s a good one. I have people I hang with, I’m part of the community, I have things to do that fill the hours. I think I’m finally beginning to accept and appreciate what I do have and not dwell so much on what I’ve lost. In fact, a couple of my friends in “love” relationships expressed that they envy my life of tranquility; free from the wrath of an angry or jealous Filipina. Maybe so. I know I’m glad I avoided the nightmare that would have ensued if a couple of the gals who professed to love me last year had got their way. No, I’m not so much smart as I am lucky.

What I want to avoid is the looking back in regret thing. As I sat there looking around the bar last night I realized that should I ever be compelled to leave I would really miss my life here. That’s why I want to focus on appreciating it in the here and now.

When I think back on my Korea life I realize I was too wrapped up in the baggage of my heartbreak to embrace the blessings that filled my life there. I look at photos from my year in Pyeongtaek and it all looks so wonderful now. And yet I was miserable or at least thought I was, and couldn’t wait to leave. Last night was a reminder to not allow myself to make that mistake again.

On the flip side of that coin, perhaps I’ve been idealizing my life with Jee Yeun. I was comfortable with the choices I made and was committed to making that marriage work. I thought it was a good life. But for reasons I will never understand, Jee Yeun wasn’t happy and threw it all away. Now we’ve been apart almost as long as we were together and I guess even if I don’t have peace of mind, I’ve gained perspective. I was fat, lazy, and likely headed towards an early grave. I’m healthier now and my life is certainly more interesting. Yeah, I miss the love, but what did that get me other than a broken heart?

Sorry for this detour into my jumbled brain. Bottom line is that I’m mostly looking forward, not back now. I try and appreciate each day for what it is and I’m happy for the life I have here. Maybe at the ripe old age of 65, I’m finally starting to get it right.

Let’s move on now, shall we?

And let’s cleanse the palate with this gem:

Well, it’s all good here with me. Good enough anyway. Back tomorrow with some hiking pics. Much nicer than seeing what’s in my head!

“There’s no time to lose,” I heard her say
“Catch your dreams before they slip away
Dying all the time
Lose your dreams
And you will lose your mind
Ain’t life unkind?”

Goodbye, Ruby Tuesday
Who could hang a name on you?
When you change with every new day
Still I’m gonna miss you

So, I posted this on Facebook:

I just canceled my Amazon Prime membership. Just like they canceled Parler.

I admit that may appear to be me engaging in virtue-signaling, but I’m powerless to do much else about it. It generated the usual pushback from my leftie friends which I expected and ignored. But there was one comment that really made me go “wow!” This is a person I’ve known for years and I consider her to be a good friend. She’s also a liberal, but back when we worked together (she was my Deputy) we would engage in long and thoughtful political discourse about the issues of the day, rarely agreeing, but at least gaining some insights and understanding. Oh, did I mention she is African-American? Not that that should matter, but this comment left me shaking my head:

Whatever! Wypipo are a trip!

You know, I’m a lot of things but one of them isn’t racist. I grew up in those long-ago days when we were taught to judge a person by the content of their character and not the color of their skin. The woman who made that comment certainly knows I’ve never acted in a racist manner. Trust me, I could not have had a successful career with the Federal government otherwise and I certainly never had a complaint filed against me. Well, except for that comment I made here at LTG about Muhammed being a pedophile. And the lawyers said I was free to express my opinion as a citizen, however “churlish”, as long as I didn’t do it at work.

Anyway, I looked up the definition of wypipo just to make sure I wasn’t misunderstanding her intent:

Wypipo is an abbreviation for “White people” that is typically used as a derogatory term to refer to racist white people. It is often used by people of color (POC) or woke white people aware of racist actions by other white people.

Ouch. Well, I didn’t respond. My simple test is to change the color to determine if what someone says is racist. So, if I were to say for example that all black people “are a trip”, I could and should be called out on it. But it is good to know what people really think of you when they slip up and let the truth out. Still shocking and painful though.

Speaking about white people, one of them has apparently purchased the property right outside the front gate to Alta Vista. It used to contain a squatter village. Now the shacks have been torn down and a barbed-wire fence erected.

I guess I’m of two minds on this. A property owner certainly has the right to sell his land. And the buyer is free to use that land in any legal fashion. The squatters really have no “rights” in this situation. Still, I feel bad to see their already difficult lives disrupted in this fashion. A Filipina friend told me that often times in this situation the squatters are paid to leave, thus giving them the money to build a hovel somewhere else. That might be the best possible outcome I suppose. But I wouldn’t want to be that white guy building his fancy new house on this land surrounded by angry people he’s displaced. But perhaps that’s just me.

Last night I enjoyed a pulled pork barbeque dinner from the crockpot for the first time in a long time. And it was good. I made up a batch of cornbread too. Put a can of whole kernel corn into the mix. Pretty tasty!

Today I climbed the mountain I missed on Monday. I’ll give a full report on that adventure tomorrow. Now it’s time for darts.

We all gotta die of something I suppose, but until I read this I hadn’t considered dying of HPV as a possibility:

Having more than 10 oral sex over a lifetime partners quadruples a person’s risk for human papillomavirus-related mouth and throat cancer, a study published Monday by the journal Cancer found.

Shit, I might have ten a year! I may be doomed, but what a way to go!

At least, that’s what it felt like. Bending over to pick up my shorts yesterday morning and felt this sharp pain in my lower back. Not sure what I did or what I injured, but damn, it periodically hurts like a motherfucker. Never experienced anything quite like it. I’m stiff when I first stand up, but after I walk a bit I’m practically pain-free. That’s a good thing. But last night when I was trying to sleep I’d suffer immense pain whenever I rolled over to the left. Same stabbing pain when I tried to get up to pee. It seems marginally better today so I’m hoping whatever this is is running its course. We’ll see.

Changed things up a bit yesterday and started my evening out on Baloy beach. Visited my old-time favorite Treasure Island first. I was disappointed that they didn’t have my preferred beer and frankly the service was sloppy and unfriendly. I decided to eat elsewhere. I also noticed that all my old favorites on staff are now gone. Oh well. I went next door to Da Kudos instead.

Da Kudos is owned by Mango’s and I actually knew my waitress. The menu was also the same as Mango’s, so I ordered up the roast chicken salad. It didn’t disappoint. And neither did the view from my table:

After my meal, I walked out on the beach and this is what I saw:

I guess I got to thinking about that being alone thing. And after a few beers I posted this question on Facebook:

Am I an asshole?

That’s probably not the kind of question that is best posed on social media. But I was just curious why a guy like me found himself dining and drinking alone. Maybe I am an asshole or something similar that people prefer to avoid. The responses to my question came in about 50-50, so maybe there’s hope. I did have to laugh at this response from ex-wife #3:

Well you use to revel in your self-identification as an dick. You were delighted when the Team America movie made an argument for dicks, saying pussies needed them for protection against assholes. So no you are not an asshole. You’re a dick.

Heh. Here’s the clip she was referring to:

My pal Jeremy offered up probably the most thoughtful and heartfelt comment:

John, if you’re not making your intentions known, then all that people are going to see is that youre just the nice old guy. How will anyone expect that you’re looking for something more if you’re not telling them that you’re looking for something more?

Also, dont be the nice, generous guy to everyone. That should be reserved for the people that have a special place in your heart. The rest of the people should be content with friendly, easygoing John. Then, people will take notice of your intentions, and only when that happens will there be the possibility of reciprocation.

Though, before any of that happens, you have to decide if you’re going to buy a ticket. Sure, you’re going to have a lot of losing tickets, but when you hit the jackpot, it’ll all have been worth it. I mean, that’s what my Dad tells me about he lottery, anyway, but I dont think those are his views on love after fifty years of marriage, especially when considering my mom.

You’re a smart guy, John. Not only do you have to periodically examine yourself, but you must always examine the company that you keep. I hope that it works out the way that you want according to whichever way you decide.

Hmm, I’ve heard that advice about changing the company I keep somewhere before. That’s probably the bottom line; if I am indeed an asshole I need to find an asshole-lover to share my life. And until I do I’m better off alone, whether I like it or not.

Anyway, I’ll be alright. It’s my nature to never be satisfied with what I have until it’s gone. Might be time to just suck it up and embrace things as they are and stop lamenting my missed opportunities. Scary that a man my age is still trying to figure that out.

As long as we are peripherally talking about my indiscretions on Facebook, this might be pertinent:

And as a victim of the Facebook “fact-check” process, I liked this one too:

Ah well, enough of this nonsense. I’m going to head out for another night of drinking alone. Hey, it’s what I do!

…but it’s all I’ve got.

Welcome to the first Hash Monday early morning post of 2021! And for the first time this year I’ve got even less to report than usual. That won’t stop me though!

Speaking of the Hash, I won’t be doing the trail today. It begins with an uncomfortable ride in the Hashmobile and involves a climb up a mountain in an unfamiliar area. And oh yeah, Vienna Sausage (Guenter) is the Hare. Nope, not taking my chances! Several other like-minded folks will be joining me on a more safe and sane alternative trail.

What else is going on? Hmm, well I do get a weekly report on visitors here at LTG. Here’s a sample from the past week:

Don’t get me wrong, it’s not like the numbers matter to me. When I first started the blog my intent was to use it as a vehicle to keep family and friends back home up to date on the happenings in my life. These days I rarely if ever hear from most of my family. I won’t deny that it hurts to be ghosted but I do appreciate the honesty–at least they aren’t pretending to care.

I also used to be a lot more political here but I eventually came to understand that others were making the same arguments better than I can and more importantly, no one’s mind was likely to be changed by anything I posted on my humble blog. So now LTG has devolved into what resembles a personal diary. I don’t even link to it from my other social media accounts–there’s a kind of freedom in writing what is unlikely to ever be read. Of course, I do have my core readers and commenters and I always appreciate the feedback and advice they provide. So, I am humbled and honored if a hundred people or so a day pop in for peek at my so-called life. I hope to prove the old adage that no man is totally worthless–he can always serve as a bad example!

Speaking of blogs and bloggers, the Big Hominid is a daily read for me. Always something interesting going on over there. Today he shared a collection of memes and this one brought back a twisted memory for me:

Jan-Michael Vincent is the only celebrity I’ve ever met in an up close and personal way. I wrote about that encounter here.

I don’t do drugs these days of course. How does that old saw go? I couldn’t kick drugs until I became an alcoholic. Or something like that. Of course, drinking brings it’s own kind of dangers, especially here in the Philippines.

They’ve been working on the new drainage canal here in Barretto for going on two years now. The safety of residents and passersby must not be in the contract. There is an even more rickety crossing to get into Cheap Charlies. Of course, leaving after several beers is the REAL dangerous part. Oh well, we’ve all got to die of something I suppose. Being impaled on rebar in a ditch is at least a rather unique way to go.

And now for an update on my love life: I ain’t got one. But two of my futile attempts in 2020 still come to mind on occasion. Arlene likes to post about her new love on Facebook. Nothing wrong with that of course. But today she posted a picture that made me go “hmm”. She was very excited about “her” new house. The photo looked a lot like the one she had shown me that her now ex-boyfriend in Canada was having built. And since foreigners can’t own property here, it was being purchased in Arlene’s name. Even after she had professed her love for me, she wouldn’t end it with the Canadian because of the house. Now, I don’t know the current circumstances and it’s none of my business. Maybe the new boyfriend stepped up and bought the house for her. Or maybe she just did what a lot of Filipinas have been known to do–my name, my house. As stupid as I was for falling in love with someone who wouldn’t end an existing relationship, I’d have to say I’m one lucky bastard!

And then there’s Jessa. I mentioned sharing some drinks with her on New Year’s Eve. During our conversation that night she told me her daughter’s birthday was coming on January 6. She was hoping to find a location to have a pool party for her. I mentioned the Alta Vista community center would be a nice venue and promised to check on its availability. I did and it is. I’m even going to pay for it as a birthday gift. Jessa seemed pleasantly surprised. She’s a nice woman and I did and do care for her. When we were dating she also had an overseas boyfriend. But unlike Arlene, she did choose to end that relationship of her own volition. The problem was she expected me to become the new him. I wanted to continue dating and see how I felt before making a commitment. That was unacceptable to her and she ended it then and there. At least I guess we are still friends of a sort, so there’s that.

And one last tidbit of an update. Mary came by the house. It seems she has taken some sort of job in Manila. And of course, she needed transportation and rent money to get started. She was willing to earn it and to her credit, her performance was much improved since our last hookup. I still, however, have no interest in seeing her again. Helping her to get to Manila ensures she won’t be showing up on my doorstep anytime soon. I hope.

Alright, well this turned out to be a whole lot of nothin’, didn’t it? I’ll try to do better in the future. Call it a resolution!