Here’s an example: Yesterday I spent a lazy day doing my usual routine of ‘net surfing and CIV IV. Around six I shower up and prepare to head out to Dolce for a special editon of the Friday night tourney–“Eric’s Last Hurrah”. Yep, another year, another friend rotating back to the States.
So anyway, after I got dressed I just didn’t feel right. Coudn’t put my finger on what it was, not exactly dizzy but off-kilter somehow. I even looked in the mirror to see if my glasses were dirty, but they seemed fine. Off I went to Dolce but I was still out of sorts. My dart game is always inconsistent, but I just couldn’t “get a feel” for my throws last night. I didn’t totally suck, but I was definitely off my game. In fact in a double elimination tourney, my partner Lonnie and I lost four straight legs and we were the first 8 teams to be eliminated. Which is unusual for me. As I told CH last night, I didn’t stick around long enough for him to beat me. Oh well.
I did stay for some free beers (Eric got a keg as a going away present). I guess the drinking gave me back some equilibrium, or at least the beer buzz made the out of sorts feeling seem natural. I went out for some bulgogi and then headed home. Where I discovered what had been wrong with me.
Get this–on the bathroom floor is one of the lenses from my eyeglasses. Yep, I had gone the whole night with half a pair of glasses and never noticed. Neither apparently did the 30-some people in Dolce Vita. I am sure some of the darters would have loved a good laugh at my expense had they noticed.
Well mystery solved and the diagnosis is late stage stupidity.
And just to underscore the ignorance point–these were my “backup” glasses I was wearing last night. The other day I took off my new glasses while changing my shirt and laid them on the bed. In the exact spot where I would ultimately sit down to put on my socks.
So today I will be making a visit to the eyeglass store for repairs wearing my back-up back-up frames. I will of course be completely cheerful in my response if he asks how I managed to break both pairs.
Hey, I must be a real happy guy. After all, ignorance is bliss!
I’m kinda sorta thinking about resurrecting this here blog of mine. Not that I expect to have anything profound to say, but I do miss the connection writing here gives me to the outside world. No question about it, I’ve been deep in my cocoon living a very, very insular life of late.
That may not change anytime soon, but what the hell. It’s probably just me here by now anyway.
So, what’s been going on with me? Pretty much the same old, same old. Least that how it feels. But I guess when you are living for the day, one day starts to seem like all the others somehow. No complaints and no real worries to express. I’ve been blessed I know, and even if things are not how I would most want them to be, they ain’t too damn bad either. So, that’s about as profound as things get here at LTG.
My new job has really turned out to be quite the challenge, although that was not unexpected. What surprises me a little is how I’ve responded. I guess it’s fair to say I’ve been pretty much coasting career-wise these past several years. Lost the fire if you get my meaning. This job doesn’t allow just “showing up”, there are high demands and high expectations from command leadership and it is not in my nature to let my bosses down. And this stuff is much bigger than me, there are many people impacted by decisions I make and I’ll be damned if I am going to fail through lack of effort. Which is the long way of saying I’ve been working hard lately.
I really don’t (and can’t) talk about work specifics, but I’ve been taking on some pretty high profile taskings which require direct interaction with many general officers, including the commander. I actually had to step up and tell him he was about to take a path that would inevitably end badly. I got one of those 4-star stares and a rather blunt response, but to his credit, he listened and took a different course of action. That was a day I went home feeling like I’d earned my pay for sure. Of course, being two years out from retirement I’ve got enough job security that courage comes a little easier for me than it might for others. What are they going to do, take away my birthday?
I do find the interactions between these general officers quite fascinating to observe. I have tremendous respect for these leaders who are for the most part quite brilliant. They could certainly be executives or CEOs in the private sector making big bucks, but they have devoted their lives to military service and I can’t help but honor that. At the end of the day, they are just like the rest of us with all the human quirks and warts, but they also have a special quality about them. Confidence in abundance to be sure, but what really impresses me is the ability to see the big picture and quickly grasp the myriad details of complex issues and to make generally sound decisions and provide direction. Leadership at its essence.
Anyway, work is hard but it has its rewards. My personal life will remain for the most part personal, but I’ve weathered a rough patch and think I came out of it pretty well for the most part. Even after four years here though I still struggle with the annual ritual of saying goodbye to people I’ve grown rather fond of. C’est la vie.
Had a rather difficult dart season. My illness mid-season affected everything in my life, and it took me several weeks to get back on my game. I did manage to finish 8th in the league, which was satisfying given the way I had been playing.
This was my last season with Sliders, as the team is breaking up. In part this was no surprise. Matt returned to the States, and Alistair went back to Scotland. They were the top two players on the team. One of the other guys apparently had some issues with our bar sponsor and decided not to return. I’m not sure what other dynamics were at play, but I really don’t care for the bullshit, I just want to play darts to the best of my ability and have fun doing it.
Anyway, I tried to hook on with the other Dolce Vita “A” division team, but they had (or thought they had) more players than they needed. So, I finangled an invite to play with the neighbor bar, Bless U. I really hate leaving Dolce, but the Blue Bulls are a bunch of good guys and I enjoy hanging out with them, so I’m looking forward to the upcoming season.
So, I guess that pretty much brings you up to date on my so-called life. It’s in my mind to get regular again as far as posting here. But I’ve promised that before, haven’t I?
I have never previously been hospitalized. But I have visited enough US hospitals to have a pretty good idea of the experience involves.
Of course, I was not admitted to an American hospital, so I was going in pretty much blind. This is what I experienced:
I was put in a relatively small room with two other Koreans. Two beds were against the wall at the far end of the room. My bed was on the opposite wall near the entrance door. In this configuration, the foot of my bed was approximately six inches from the head of my neighbors bed.
There was a small TV mounted on wall at the “far” end of the room with the volume set on blare.
The bathroom was down the hall 50 feet or so and shared by everyone on the 7th floor.
I was apparently the only foriegner.
The room was not particularly clean. No privacy curtains or other such amenities were in existence.
I was not allowed to eat any food whatsover (interfered with “tests” and the medication I was receiving intraveneously).
I could never get a clear answer on just what was in the yellow liquid being continuosly fed into my arm.
It did eventually bring my fever under control.
I was totally unprepared for this visit and had nothing to help pass the hours and hours of sheer, mind-numbing boredom.
Both of my roommates snored louder than anyone I have ever head. In unison they nearly made the walls vibrate.
Although sleep was a sweet escape, I could only manage a couple of hours each night.
After the first night (Monday), I was ready to be discharged. Lack of sleep, lack of food, lack of mental stimulation were taking their toll. The doctor insisted I stay until Thursday.
Test results indicated I had picked up a pretty common virus that had planted itself in my spleen, which in turn had caused significant reductions in my white blood cell count. This was somewhat of a relief because there had been some talk of Malaria from the docs and I was fearing cancer.
Surprisingly, my second night in hospital turned out to be much worse than the first. As I lay there sleepless listening the snorers I was sure I was losing my mind. I felt totally trapped and helpless. It was the biggest pity party I ever had for myself.
The next morning when the nurse tried to attach a new bag of the mystery yellow fluid to my IV, I forcefully said “anio!”. And then I had her remove the IV from my arm. She was shocked and I am sure it got the staff talking about the miguk who must have lost his mind. A different nurse with slightly better English skills tried to get me to take my medicine bag a couple of hours later, but I again declined saying I was through treating the symptoms, I was in hospital to address the CAUSE of the symptoms. Which went completely over her head. The staff pretty much gave me a wide birth after that.
A doctor (not my primary physician) came by and asked if I wanted to go home and I said yes. He asked why and I explained that they could give whatever was in the yellow fluid in pill form and I could treat the symptoms in the comfort of my home. I wanted to deal with the virus/spleen thing. He said there was nothing they could do about that. So I said just release me and he seemed happy to be rid of my whining ass.
I had to wait two hours while the did the out processing paperwork. I had called Blue Cross earlier and they were getting the documentation they needed to process my claim from the hospital. Or so I thought. The phone rang in the room, and since I alone was ambulatory, I got up and answered. It was Blue Cross asking if things were going ok. I said you tell me. The rep said they had asked for my medical records and were told they had to FAX the request, which they had done 3 hours ago without response. Uh oh, I thought.
So, I am advised by a nurse that “international finance” is ready for me now, and when I arrive I ask if they got the FAX. Apparently so, but it did not matter because they did not have a working arrangement with Blue Cross and I would have to pay out of pocket.
I admit I get grouchy sometimes. Especially when I’m hungry. Or tired. And I was tired and hungry. So, I kind of let the poor guy have it. Then I regained my calm enough to get Blue Cross on the phone. They show Soonchunhwang Hospital as a preferred provider on thier website and I thought they could clear up this misundertanding. Well, it would be funny under different circumstances, but the bottom line is Blue Cross and SCH never completed a contract. Which left me where?
To everyone’s credit more calls were made, higher ups consulted, and finally an exception was made on my behalf. So, six hours after I began trying to escape I was out the door.
And there you have the tale of my first (and hopefully last)time in a Korean hospital.
It’s been a long time comin’ ( an I’ve been a Long Time Gone) but here I am.
Actually posting this from Washington, DC (well, technically Alexandria, Virginia) where I arrived after a 20 hour journey from Seoul yesterday. Have meetings here the next two days before spending the weekend in South Carolina with family. Back to Korea on Tuesday.
I can pretty much illustrate my overall existence these past few months with an incident that occurred in the early morning hours today. My secretary booked my hotel and it is a freaking smoke free facility. So, I wake up at 0400 (jet lag is a bitch), brew the in-room coffee, grab the USA Today newspaper and head outside for a morning smoke. Now, I am all suited up for my first big meeting with the brass from higher headquarters and I’m being careful not to do something stupid like spilling coffee on my new tailor-made pink dress shirt. Suddenly there is a “plop” sound and I feel something hit my arm and I’m thinking surely it is not starting to rain. No, some f’n bird scored a direct hit on my suit jacket. That was a shitty start to the day.
Anyway, just prior to flying here I had 12 days in the Philippines, and spent the last five sick. Still sick, but getting better day by day.
Not sure who still ventures into the barren waters of this blog, but I’m going to try and get back in the groove again. So check back occasionally. Or not.
Than yesterday at least. I don’t think I engaged in any inappropriate behaviors last night, so that’s a plus. In fact, I ran into the guy I went off on Friday night and apoligized profusely. We had a little chat about the circumstances leading up to my explosion and I understood where he was coming from. So, I was glad that he accepted my apology and I think we will put it behind us and move on without further incident. You can’t ever make it totally right, but I know we both felt better for having cleared the air.
We had a couple of nice dart tourneys at the Blue Frog last night. In the doubles I drew a somewhat inexperienced Korean, but he threw decent if inconsistent darts. We managed to beat Craig and Grant in the first round, but it was downhill from there I’m afraid. It was actually all on me, because my partner played better while my darts went to shit. We were the only team to beat Craig and Grant as they came back through the loser’s bracket to take first place. I was pleasantly surprised when we were awarded the 3rd place payout for our efforts (all of W10,000).
Next came the singles tournament, a format I prefer in some ways because it is all on you. No letting down a partner (or blaming them) if you fail. On the other hand, you have to beat players who are statistically better than you head-to-head, but I tend to like that challenge.
I got by Grant and Won Jun in the first two rounds of the winner’s bracket, setting up a confrontation with “The Angry Scot” Alistair. Regular readers know that Alistair is one of the top players in Itaewon and was certainly the highest ranked player in the tourney. He had played two tough matches against “The Goat” and Colin. Because we had been reduced to two boards, we had to wait quite some time before we actually stepped up to the Oche. As Alistair said after my 2-0 win, “you didn’t have your best darts, but they were good enough”. I felt pretty good, because it was the first time I remember beating him one-on-one in a money tourney. And it put me in the Championship round. Where Alistair promised we would meet again.
We did. By now it was after midnight and we had been playing and drinking since 7:00. So, rather than a test of dart skills it was more of who can throw best while intoxicated. The first leg was cricket and it was one of the strangest games I can recall. Alistair is notorious for his unorthodox cricket strategy, and this game was no different. I scored zero marks with first six darts, while he closed bulls and marked a couple of other numbers. For whatever reason, Alistair closed out the bottom half of the board (17/16/15) before I had any number closed. I figured the game was over at this point, but I kept working to close what I could and avoid being totally embarassed. Once I had closed 20s, we got into a points battle, with Alistair pounding 17s, and me answering with triple 20s. In between I kept working to close numbers and Alistair struggled on the top half of the board. When I finally hit my last bullseye for the win I was the most surprised person in the room.
Next was ’01, a game Alistair excels at. I hung with him to the end, where I was waiting to shoot for the 32 out. I’m still waiting, because Alistair hit the 40 for the win. Which took us to the deciding 3rd leg. I diddled a double bull and chose cricket. I played a solid game and Alistair struggled just enough for me to seal the victory. And take home W50,000. Well, I didn’t actually wind up taking it home, having got sucked into a card game I think is called Hula with a bargirl for drinks. Shoulda stuck with darts I guess. But it was fun regardless.
Wound up going to bed around 3:30 and was awakened at 6:30 by some kids playing in the yard of the downstairs apartment. What the hell they were doing up that early on Sunday is beyond me. I finally had to move into my guest bedroom for some quiet and much needed sleep. Woke up again at 10:30 feeling somewhat refreshed and made myself a classic American breakfast of bacon, eggs, toast, OJ and coffee. Not bad if I do say so myself.
I got an email indicating that folks at home may be worried about my state of mind these days. I guess yesterday’s post was a little disconcerting. Yes, I am going through a bit of a rough patch recently, but I am really ok. Some stressors at work and personally have occupied my mind of late, but I know that “this too shall pass”. And yeah, I have got to find a better way to relieve that stress than drinking. And I will.
I’m a bit disgusted with myself these days. I’m somewhat overwhelmed with a convergence of events and I am not pleased with how I am handling it. Last night I have to admit I was pretty much a drunken asshole. I got really pissed at a dart opponent and said some things I regret. Later, a friend told me about some behavoir I do not even recall, but it had pissed him off immensely. So, today I am lamenting my actions and trying to resolve to be a better person in the days to come.
Not sure how to go about that at this point, but perhaps I will be struck with some insights soon. Or not. Best I can do for now is try to pull my head out of my ass and stop worrying about what I can’t control.
I hear some people been talkin’ me down
Bring up my name, pass it round
They don’t mention the happy times
They do their thing, I do mine.
Well baby, that’s hard to change
I can’t tell them how to feel
Some get stoned, some get strange
Sonner or later it all gets real.
So I had the skin graft surgery yesterday. I had actually about 90% changed my mind as I figured I could clean and dress the finger until it healed up properly. But when I got there, the receptionist slapped a hospital bracelet on me, and motioned for me to follow her. So, we walk through the first floor lobby, up a flight of stairs, reverse direction and walk through pediatrics, neurosurgery (lots of people lining the walls in PJs waiting with Night of the Living Dead-like expressions. Scary.) up another flight of stairs, through some double doors, and into the surgery clinic.
Where my surgery team awaited. In our mutually limited means of communication, they were asking about anathesia and if I wanted to sleep. I said I wasn’t real keen on pain, but I would prefer to stay awake. So we agreed on a local. I reiterated that I was not staying in the hospital and the doc nodded and said “yeah, you go home”. So, I was instructed to undress and put on the surgical clothes (not one of those backless gowns thank god) and I was escorted to the operating room.
I got the full treatment. There were 3 nurses and 3 doctors. And I’m thinking how much is this going to cost me? I had called Blue Cross and although Soonchonkyang Hospital is on the preferred provider list, outpatient treatment is paid out of pocket and I file the claim afterwards for direct reimbursement. So, I wasn’t sure what was going to happen if the costs exceeded my available funds, but at this point there was no turning back.
We had agreed to take the needed skin from the same hand (that fleshy area (heel?) at the bottom of my hand. I had told the surgeon “dartsuh” and made my throwing motion and he actually understood and assured me I would be good to play in a week. So they proceed to clean up my hand. But when he cleaned the wound I about jumped out of my skin. I am sure I must have a nerve ending exposed or something, because it feels like an electrical shock in a root canal kinda way when touched. Then the doc said “injection and pain” and while the injections were in fact painful (like stepping on a nail) it was not so bad comparitively speaking. He didn’t wait too long to start messing with the finger though and I had to express my discomfort with the internationally recognized “goddamn, that hurts!”. Loudly. I’m guessing he was thinking he should have just put me to sleep, but he gave me another round of injections. Which allowed sufficient time for the first round to take effect and my hand became comfortably numb.
After that, everything was cool. It was a little disconcerting hearing everything (they had put a screen where I couldn’t watch, not that I wanted too). I didn’t catch much of the conversation of course, but it sounded an awful lot like the doctors were flirting with the nurses. Laughter from the docs and shy giggles from the nurses. Anyway, that is what I choose to believe they were talking about. I was just glad I didn’t hear “Aigo!” (roughly translates to damn. At least that is how I use it).
Took about 30 minutes. I was taken back to my clothes, told to go see the receptionship, was given a prescription and a bill for 423,000 Won (around $425.) I go back at 1100 today I think to get my head stiches looked at. Not sure what the drugs are supposed to do. If they are for pain, they don’t work. I wound taking a leftover Percocet last night and slept well. Feel pretty good today and plan to be back at work after my appointment.
Well that is the story. It seems a shame that this is the only thing I have to blog about. But I figure why not share the pain? My readers have come to expect no less.
Just wanted to update y’all on the sorry state of my wounded body. Went to the doc today to get cleaned and rewrapped, and when the bandage came off the finger (painfully) I was still bleeding. Doctor says I need surgery, which I understand to be a skin graft of some type or another. Get this: he recommended I stay in hospital 2 or 3 days! I said bullshit (well, I was more polite than that) and he said ok, you just have to come back everyday. Which I guess is an acceptable compromise.
Strange how in the USA they won’t keep you overnight unless you are knocking on death’s door. Here, they admit you for a hangnail it seems. Another difference is those little niceties like taking blood pressure and temprature, asking about allergies or what other medications you are taking just isn’t done. I took three shots of something in the ass on Saturday but have no inkling what they were. I have no known allergies, but hell, they didn’t know that. It just doesn’t inspire confidence somehow.
Oh well. Going in at 1400 tomorrow. Don’t know if they intend to knock me out or not, but I am not real keen on watching skin extracted from my (thigh?) and reattached to my pinky. Plus the inability to interact coherently is a bit disconcerting. I guess I should spend tonight learning to say things like “I can’t breathe” or “that hurts like a sonofabitch” or other handy phrases appropriate (try typing appropriate with a bandaged right pinky sometime) to the situation.
Instead I am going to play darts. It’s opening night of the summer season!
I had a blackout, hit the floor, and now have stiches in my head and an f’d up finger.
Really strange, because I don’t remember a thing. One minute I am sitting at the bar having a pleasant conversation, the next thing I know I am being picked up off a bloody floor.
I’m told I started coughing and stood up and then went down for the count. No idea what is up with that.
I didn’t go to the hospital last night as suggested, but when I woke this morning my finger was throbbing. I tried to take the bandage off, but the slightest touch brought on searing pain. My head looked ok, as that wound had already scabbed over. But I walked over to the hospital convienently located in my neighborhood to get my pinky looked at.
Of course, they just ripped the bandage right off which was incredibly painful and started some pretty impressive bleeding. After cleaning it up I could see that I didn’t have a cut finger, rather it was as if some had taken a filet knife and sliced an inch off. Sorry to say, when the doc started probing around I screamed like a banjee. Worse pain I can remember. So, they wrapped it up and I go back Monday for another looksee and cleaning. Which means I get to re-experience the joy of having the bandage removed.
The also stiched up my head which comparitively speaking was a piece of cake. And three injections in the ass. Not my idea of a great Saturday morning to be sure.
If there is a silver lining, it occurred to me that if death comes like a blackout it won’t be bad at all. One minute you are there having a nice chat and the next your gone. No worries at all.
No idea what is wrong with me or why I have lost the desire to blog.
Well, I guess I do have an idea.
I am feeling a bit disconnected from everything and everyone in the world. And what is left isn’t all that interesting to me, so I can’t imagine why it would be to any intrepid visitor who might somehow come across this weary blog.
This is the life I have chosen. And that nearly everyone I care about has found me unworthy for living this way only underscores the isolation. But yes, I take full responsibility for my decisions. And I acknowledge my selfishness is choosing to seek meaning in my life rather than living as others would have me to do.
So there it is. Turn your back if you must. I never asked for understanding anyway. And I won’t ask for what I cannot give.
Geez, where does the time get to anyway? It’s been awhile since I’ve posted I know, but sometimes it’s just a struggle to post when there ain’t nothin’ new to say. But yeah, I’m doing alright. I know when the the long lost Nomad inquires about my whereabouts it’s time to check in.
Since my return from the Philippines, it has been work and darts. Work has been hectic and stressful, and there does not appear to be much relief in sight. In fact, my boss will likely be leaving this summer and she is already lobbying me to take her job. But at this stage in my career, I’m focused on retiring, not climbing the ladder of “success”. Still, I prefer to control my destiny and I may wind up taking the job as a preemptive measure–I don’t want to work for an asshole and the only sure way to avoid that is to be the boss. We’ll see.
I’ve had a rough spell with my dart game as well. Just playing horrible the past few weeks. I’m sure the problem is in my head. I just haven’t been playing with confidence and I have been a little intimidated by the “A” division competition. I’ve been working on it though and this past week I’ve shown signs of breaking out of the slump. I had an 8-1 showing on Monday night, and won a couple of the Dolce tourneys, so I’ve just got to keep it going.
Ok, I promised to post about my trip to the Philippines. I had a great time, mostly. I really did not like Manila at all. What a shithole. The traffic made Seoul seem sane (which it is not). It was dirty and the poverty was right up close and personal. I mean Christ, landing at the airport you fly over a shanty town along the riverbank that is like something out of National Geographic. No way I could live there.
I spent a few days in Angeles City as well. It is one big party town, like Itaewon on speed. Lots of bars with young women dancing in skimpy attire. I was bored with that after the first day. Fortunately I met a couple of Americans staying in my hotel and we hung out together. Days at the pool, and at night we went to this country bar with a great live band. So, while I wound up having fun in Angeles, it is not the kind of town I would call home.
From there I flew to Cebu City. Yes, that was much more likely. Comparatively clean and modern. The poverty is there, but it is not so much in your face. I hired a cab one day to show me around and really got a good feeling about the place. More to see in Philippines before I make any decisions, but Cebu is a definite possibility.
One thing I learned is not to travel to a predominately Catholic country during the Holy Days. I arrive on Maudy Thursday which of course preceded Good Friday. Everything was closed up tight, including the bar I had read about on the internet and wanted to visit. So, it was a little boring since there wasn’t much to do but hang out at the pool bar. Still, a good trip and I hope to return soon.
Didn’t take a lot of pictures, but here are a few:
Angeles City street scene with the ever present Jeepney’s…
Fields Avenue, the main drag in Angeles. If this seems a little third world, you should see the back streets.
This is where I stayed. The room was a bit dated, but clean. Great pool and great breakfast buffet. I’d stay there again.
Ok, these next pictures are all from my tour of Cebu and the surrounding environs. This one is of Fort San Pedro, built by the Spanish in 1590 (if memory serves). One thing I found somewhat surprising is that despite being a Spanish colony for over 300 years, there was not much Spanish influence in the culture. Certainly not as much as you see in other former colonies.
Fort San Pedro had some interesting flora and fauna. If you are interested in that kind of thing. I’m basically not.
But I did enjoy the view.
This is along the top of whatever you call the walls of a fort.
Oh yeah, did I mention that the Philippines is quite tropical? It was March and I was wearing shorts and was on the edge of being uncomfortably warm. But I expect it was because I was acclimated to the rather harsh Korean winter I had just left.
Not sure if this is going to be readable on the blog, but it is the story of Magellan’s Cross. Yes, this is the spot where he planted the seeds of Christianity in the PI. A few days later a local tribal chieftain named Lapu Lapu had had about enough of Magellan and his merry troop and dispatched them to the great hereafter rather violently.
The above referenced cross of the ill-fated Magellan.
Next stop on my tour was Beverly Hills. Yes, there is a Beverly Hills in Cebu City. It is a big gated community where the well to do live. I understand there are expats living there as well, but I did not encounter any. Anyway, it was quite pretty.
Within the Beverly Hills compound is a huge Taoist Temple. My lack of photography skills prevented me from finding an angle that really captured its enormity. So, this will have to do.
The Temple had lots of cool stuff like this.
I don’t know if the Taoists call this a pagoda or not. That’s what I’m calling it though.
I have no concept or understanding of Taoist beliefs. So, no clue what these figurines represent. Other than a photo op for me.
Apparently fishing is revered amongst those who practice the Tao faith. I guess the Nomad would appreciate that.
Lots of these dragons hanging about as well.
I had to climb a gazillion steps to get to the Temple proper. I was rewarded with a nice view of Beverly Hills though…
If they day comes that I am able to retire, and if the place I retire is the Philippines, and if I choose Cebu City, and if I decide to live in Beverly Hills, then I ‘m thinking this house would be a comfortable abode. No, I didn’t price anything specific, but my internet searches have convinced me I could find something similar for no more than $200,000.
You know, when you travel people invariably ask about the local cuisine. This place is fairly typical of the dining establishments I saw. To be truthful, I wasn’t that adventurous when it came to eating out. Mostly just what I could get in the hotel or sandwich type places. I guess the only “real” Filipino food I tried was the Jollibees. (A fast food chain that pinoys are crazy about for some reason).
So, I asked my taxi guy Fredo to show me around Mactan Island next. That is where the resorts are and many expats call it home. I tried to catch a picture of Cebu Bay as we crossed the bridge, but got this San Miguel sign instead. I drank a lot of San Miguel during my visit.
So this is the best I could do at capturing Cebu Bay. Fredo drives pretty fast.
I really wasn’t that impressed with Mactan Island. I saw a lot of poverty and it just wasn’t as clean and modern as Cebu City. We did stop for lunch at this resort on the water. Lots of people come to the PI for the scuba diving. I don’t scuba myself of course, as I find my breathing is easier above the water.
And the water was definitely clear. Not sure this picture captures that, but I hadn’t seen water this nice since the Bahamas. Nice as blue, but crystal clear.
Hot day + holiday weekend = lots of people enjoying a nice swim.
This is my driver Fredo. Nice guy. It was kinda funny how we met. My first night in town he was the first cab in line at the hotel taxi stand. I said I wanted to go to Lonestar (the bar I had read about) and he said the bars would be closed. I (being an expert after one hour in town) assured him he was wrong. He wasn’t. He did eventually find a place that was open so I could quench my craving for a San Miguel. Anyway, a couple of days later when I was ready for my tour, Fredo was the first cab in the taxi stand again. We both thought that quite the coincidence. He wound up taking me to the airport as well, but that was by arrangement.
We both ordered the barbeque chicken. This is what it looked like half way through. Not bad. I mean, I eat chicken on a stick from the street vendors in Itaewon pretty often. This was comparable. Yeah, I’m such a gourmet.
Ok, that’s my report from the Philippines. I’ll try to do better about keeping y’all up to speed on my many “adventures” here in Korea.
Well, my son Kevin turns 30 years old today. Which makes us exactly the same age. Although he is 30 in mind AND body. So this post is for him.
Turning 30 is a good thing, son. A whole ‘nother world of possibilities await you. To me, it is the real beginning of adulthood. I hope you don’t feel like you are getting too old to achieve your dreams.
I guess the other thing I would tell you is too hold fast to what you value most in life. You have a beautiful wife who loves you and that is a bigger treasure than you may realize. Richness is not always about money.
Although I’m not around to be offering fatherly advice (which I probably wouldn’t be good at if I was around), I trust I can serve as an example to you. A bad example, it’s true, but an example nonetheless. I hope you will reflect on my many mistakes in life and resolve yourself to be a better man than I was.
I have always been prouder of you than know. Nothing would make me prouder than seeing you live a happy and fulfilling life, surrounded by the many people who love you.
Four years ago this month, my friend and soulmate succumbed to breast cancer. Until this moment, I have never written of her, although few days pass when she is not in my thoughts. Even now, the pain of losing her seems too raw and fresh to contemplate, and yet her memory is so wonderful that it begs to be shared if only to give her spirit some substance within the dimension of the living. Although mere words, especially within the constraints of my limited talent of expression, could never capture the essence of this remarkable woman. But Linda Ketner loved me and would certainly forgive my feeble efforts at a proper remembrance. And so, for you, my friend, I share the story that I carry in my heart.
I met Linda in Prescott, Arizona in 1981. She was working as a legal secretary in a law office on my mail route. I’m not sure why I asked her out; she was a couple of years older than me and not really my “type” physically. But she did have a great smile, and her dark Italian eyes sparkled with equal parts of mischief and wisdom as if she was in on some cosmic joke, and my cluelessness was most amusing. Well, whatever it was that created the spark, the resulting fire was to light and warm a friendship that lasted over 20 years.
For the first couple of years, we toyed with romance. We were both single parents with two children. She was Catholic, and I wasn’t. I was on the rebound from a major heartbreak and could not let myself love again, which made her incredibly angry. I moved to Arkansas several months after we met. She brought her kids cross country by bus to visit me there. We spent time at my parent’s small farm in eastern Oklahoma, and she told me later it was the only time in her life she had truly felt at peace and at home. She wanted me to ask her to stay. And I didn’t.
We continued to write and speak on the phone, and I’m not sure how I would have borne the loneliness of that time in my life without her kindness and support. About a year later, she had moved to Phoenix, and I came out to see her. By now, I had come to love her and was finally ready to commit to a relationship. And she wasn’t, at least with me. She had met someone else, and I was too late. Which really pissed her off. I saw firsthand her fiery temper in what we fondly recalled as the refrigerator cleaning incident. As she was emptying the contents of the fridge, she would hurl food items and invectives my way, telling me in colorful terms what an idiot I had been. That actually turned out to be one of our favorite memories that always made us laugh, but it was a pretty intense experience at the time.
So, we both wound up marrying others and going on with our lives. But we always stayed in touch, sharing our trials and joys in long letters, and with the advent of email, our correspondence became even more robust. And she was always there for me, a rock to cling to in stormy seas and a beacon of light on my darkest nights. Her love for me was always unconditional, and even when I screwed up (which was often), she gave me encouragement instead of censure. I’m not sure there is a better definition of friendship.
Looking back, I probably only saw her in person six or seven times over all those years. We were connected in a way that transcended the physical; there was just some power that bonded us in a way I cannot adequately explain. She knew how to touch the places in my innermost being in a way that no one ever had before. She KNEW me. And despite that, she still loved me. I had never known that kind of affirmation, and it was a source of strength and comfort to be blessed with her love.
Whenever I lost myself, she helped me find my way back. She visited me once in South Carolina. The house I shared with my wife was decorated in a manner worthy of Southern Living magazine. She looked around and said, “wow, this is really amazing. But tell me, where do YOU live?” She saw through the lie I had been living for years in five minutes.
Of course, I was only one part of Linda’s life. I’m sure I was important to her, but not the most important. She had her children, her grandson, and on her third try, a husband who was worthy of her love.
Linda was no saint, but she was saintly. I nicknamed her MT2 (Mother Teresa the second). She had an amazing capacity to love. It was her gift. She did things like visiting nursing homes and reading to strangers on a weekly basis. She was always there for the people who needed her most.
As good as Linda was, her life was hard. She was emotionally abused as a child .she married men who treated her badly, but nothing overcome her indomitable spirit. Well, nothing but cancer. But no, the cancer beat her body, but it never beat Linda.
She was first diagnosed in the late 1980s and underwent a double mastectomy. In true Catholic fashion, she told me God was punishing her for her vanity about having large breasts. But she was a survivor. When she reached the ten-year mark without a recurrence, she noted that statistically, she was home free.
Damn statistics. The cancer recurred at twelve years and was inoperable. But she never quit fighting. I know it is cliché to talk about the “brave struggle against impossible odds,” but Linda was the poster child for fighting the good fight against the evil that was eating her body. Her faith, courage, and strength were inspirational to all who knew her.
And just when it seemed things could get no worse, her daughter Amy died from a drug overdose. When I heard the news, I thought Linda would lose her will to live. I think it was touch and go for a while, but Amy’s son needed her, and she fought on. And on. She was in pain most of the time, in mind, body, and spirit, but still, she would not quit. And she never lost herself. I visited Linda a couple of times during the last year of her life and always came away uplifted. It was as if she had had her faith challenged in the most severe fashion and had passed the test. Her reward was acceptance and peace of mind.
Well, maybe not acceptance. The last time we were together was at the hospice. She was drugged up and in and out of consciousness, but early one morning, she awoke while I was sitting at her bedside. She looked at me and smiled, and that same mischievous mirth from the day we met was twinkling in her eyes. We talked about all we had shared, we laughed and cried, and then she squeezed my hand and told me, “this is NOT goodbye.” I don’t know if she was right, but I didn’t argue the point. I love her now as I did then, and she lives on in my heart. If there is a heaven, I know of no one more worthy than her to reside there. She was my angel on Earth, and I miss having her here watching out for me.
As I got up to leave the hospice for the last time, I accidentally tripped on the oxygen tubes that had somehow gotten twisted around my legs. Linda started gasping and clutching her throat. I stood there in shock and near panic. Then she flashed me that big smile and said, “Got ya!”
Last night was softtip dart league night. We were playing Danny’s Bar in Hannam-dong. Although we were playing at Jay Bar because Danny’s no longer has an electronic dart board (having replaced it with a baby grand piano). Talk about extreme makeovers.
Anyhoo, Hannam is the next village over from Itaewon, but it is world’s away in terms of atmosphere. Not nearly as many foreigners for example. Savvy readers will remember that I technically live in Hannam, although I am several blocks away from the business district. I actually only rarely go there which is a shame because it is a nice change of pace.
So, the softip league differs from the steeltip version in that about half the teams are made up exclusively of Koreans. And they are good, eight of the top ten players are Koreans. Danny’s/Jay Bar are Korean venues. In fact, the bar staff didn’t speak English at all. So, I got to use my limited vocabulary a couple of times (although teammates Lonnie and Grant are comparatively fluent).
We won 13-0. That is two weeks in a row we have swept the match. Of course it would be dishonest if I failed to mention that both victories came as a result of forfeits. Not sure what is going on, but rumor has it the Korean teams are boycotting because of some controversy that occurred in a big softtip tournament with an American member of the league. Don’t know that that is the case, but it was strange that NONE of the Korean teams showed up last week.
Well, we were there at Jay Bar and had the board to ourselves so we played a couple of rounds and enjoyed some cold beers. Then we crossed the street to check out Danny’s and had another round of beer. Afterwards we cabbed back to Dolce and played some “real” darts (steeltips) and drank more beer.
Mr. Kim, a fine darts player and a good guy showed up. Rare for him these days as he is juggling three businesses and is always working. He immediately challenged me to a game, but I protested I was too drunk to throw and besides I had already put my darts away. He wasn’t hearing it, reminding me that I had put him out of the tournament on Saturday and he wanted some revenge. What are you going to do in that situation but play. Well, the results were pretty predictable as he won 4 of the 5 legs we played. Although given my condition, they were relatively close. I think sober I *might* be able to beat Mr. Kim 40% of the time. Or not.
And then I had a nice surprise when Brian, a friend from the fantasy football league, came in with a Canadian friend of his. We all got to talking and the next thing I know its 2 a.m. It was good to see him again though. BTW, my team lost in the second round of the playoffs last weekend. I had debated which running back to bench, Willie Parker or Clinton Portis. I went with Parker who wound up getting injured in the first quarter and scored me zero points. I would up losing by 10 points, and the difference was sitting on my bench in the person of Mr. Portis. Ah well.
Oh yeah, on the evening of Christmas day we had the bright idea of inventing some dart bar drinks. I don’t know enough about booze to be of any benefit to the creative process, but in a small way I was the inspiration. I was throwing pretty poorly and Jim had ordered a round of drinks. When the barkeep asked what I wanted I blurted out that “I needed a dart lesson”. A light bulb went off in Jim’s head I guess, because the next thing I know he had pen and paper in hand and was working on a recipe. And the shot now called the “dart lesson” was born. Its an ungodly mix of grenadine, jagermeister, Bailey’s and Midori. Given the various consistencies of the ingredients it makes for a layer of dart board colors in the shot glass. Looks good but the taste is pretty gross. So, we decided it would be a punishment drink, i.e., someone throws a bad round of darts and the call goes out to “give that guy a dart lesson”. That should provide some motivation to shoot well. Jim actually worked up a couple of more drinks, including a Ton-80. That consists of two parts Wild Turkey and one part Southern Comfort (to take the edge off). Now, I personally can barely drink whiskey as it triggers a gag reflex. But, Lonnie had thrown a Ton-80 at Jay Bar, so of course we had to give the new drink a try. Yikes, it is powerful concoction! Luckily (for me) Ton-80s are relatively rare.
So, today is the first day of my mini-vacation. I took today and Monday off, so I’m sitting on a 5 day New Year’s weekend. Not doing anything out of the ordinary though. Dart tourneys tonight and Sunday, and a New Year’s eve party at Dolce Vita are about all I have on my agenda.
Been trying to sell my deceased boss’ car for the past couple of months, and finally got a call this morning. So hopefully we will complete the sale on Monday. That will be a worry off my mind.
And that just about brings y’all up to the minute in the exciting world of LTG.
Avery is the sweet girl second from the left. She is the daughter of my second wife and I am the only father she has known. Which is a shame because I have not been a good example of fatherhood for any of my children, but I have been especially neglectful of her. After the divorce I moved to Virginia and I drifted out of her life, seeing her on rare occasions but not ever being there for her. She always remained part of the family, especially with her brother and sister in South Carolina, but my emotional distance far exceeded the miles between us.
And no words here can ever make that right. In a lifetime of too many regrets, hurting her is one of the things I am most ashamed of.
She is an amazing young woman. Smart as hell, adventurous, compassionate, with a zeal for living life to its fullest and making the world around her a better place. I have always been extremely proud of her, even if I never adequately conveyed that to her. She is truly one of a kind and although I get none of the credit for the extraordinary woman she grew up to be, I am grateful that she is my daughter.
She recently graduated from university in Hawaii and I offer her my belated congratulations. I have no doubt that she will leave her mark on the world and touch many lives in a positive way. We share a spirit of wanderlust and I know she will make the most of her life experience on whatever path she chooses.
Words are just words. Yet I hope that in her heart she will sense all the love and respect this flawed man she calls Dad holds for her.
Hard to believe but I’ve actually been writing on this silly blog for three years now. But you can look it up–December 12, 2004 and 49,098 visitors later (which I calculate as maybe 30 or so masochists who keep coming back for more) I’m still plugging away, more or less.
So, for anyone who might care, here is the first post at Long Time Gone (back in my short-lived blogspot days). It’s actually a little embarrassing to read now because I was both full of myself and naive back then. But perhaps those attributes would fairly describe me today as well. Maybe the difference is now I don’t care! Or maybe I’m in denial. The only certainty is that it doesn’t matter. Life is what it is and it goes on until it doesn’t.
During these past three years my daughter gave birth to my first grandchild, my son got married to a lovely lady, Hillary made it home safe and sound from both tours in Afghanistan, Nolan got lost but is going to find his way eventually, and I became a stranger to friends and family.
I left looking for adventure and I guess comparatively speaking my life here has been that. It has cost me a lot more than I anticipated, but I think I have gained some understanding about myself along the way as well. Was it worth it? Would I do it again? I don’t know. And since you don’t get Mulligans in life the questions are meaningless.
I do like my life here very much. I’m not ready to go back to the USA now and I don’t know when or if I ever will. Lately I can’t seem to shake the feeling that I am not destined for a long life, and I just can’t see myself getting wrapped up in the rat race and drama that comes with living in America. But as Stephen Stills put it: “It’s no matter. No distance. It’s the ride”.
I have friends who have come and gone, and some that remain. I have my darts. My blog buddies (you know who you are). And a freakin’ ten minute commute to work.
Loneliness and feelings of loss and estrangement, sometimes I have that too. But I’m learning to embrace it all and call life good. And that is progress.
Folks, stick around. I can guarantee crap as bad as this post on semi-regular basis. What the hell, you’ve dealt with it for three years now. Whaddya got to lose?
Well, I had my Korean lesson last night. Acquired some more verbs. So, let’s see, along with my approximately 200 word vocabulary, I can now use verbs for things like put on (separate ones for clothes, hat/glasses, and shoes and socks), and its useful counterpart “take off”, drink, eat, hear, see, walk, touch, smell, sleep, hot, cold, say, and my personal favorite “hay-yo” (no, I still don’t have Hangul software. Any ideas?). I used “hay-yo” some at work today. Like every time I gave my secretary something to do. I’m told it translates as “do it”. She kinda didn’t like it though. Maybe its rude to give work and say do it? She did say my pronunciation was getting better everyday, so that’s something I guess. Now, if I could actually remember how to say these things without the freaking word staring me in the face I might feel more of a sense of accomplishment. Little by little (heh, poco a poco in Spanish) I suppose.
My lesson is moving from Tuesday to Saturday. I’m usually pretty worn out after work and my tutor is probably tired of me being too brain dead to get the value of her well-prepared lessons. And she really does work hard at teaching me. Always makes up a little game to play using what I learned. You know, just like in kindergarten. Don’t believe me? Check out my workbooks:
Yes indeed. I am the master of my universe. And how many of us get the opportunity to be six years old again?
Anyway, I am reading pretty well, but my comprehension still sucks. It’s funny, I will read something and sound it out (in see Dick run fashion), and be thinking what the hell does that mean? Example, coming home the other day I read the back of the tour bus in front of me. I’m like: Duh ee na stee. Duh ee na stee. No clue. Then I notice the small English lettering underneath: Dynasty. Yeah bud, I’m still pretty much clueless. But I’m trying.
So, in keeping with the theme of my working life, here’s a photo of my coworkers (well, the picture was taken on October 11, so my coworkers at that time).
My new family in Korea.
L-R Front Row: Corine Rodriguez; Kim, Yong-im; Yi, Kyong-ae; Sharon Alsop; Yi, Yong-in; So, Chong Cho; Yi, Tok Hui; Joel Springer
L-R Back Row: Choe, Song Won; Donna Cole; Kim, Yong-tae; Me; Bill Dyer; Leora Andersen; Bosong Mayer. (not pictured: Walt Washington)
Handsome group, eh? You can see our cool shed that serves as office space in the background.
So, since October 11 here’s what changed: Walt died. Corine left for a job in DC. Joel left for a promotion in HR at Installation Management Command-Korea. Donna has accepted a lateral assignment at the Civilian Personnel Advisory Center (CPAC) in Yongsan (although we are not releasing her until we have a replacement selected). Leora also took a job at the CPAC and left last week. Bosong took a job at the U.S. Embassy and leaves after next week.
As you might imagine, things are pretty f’d up at work right now. We are at 33% of our (already lean) U.S. staffing authorization. At this point we are just trying to avoid a critical mission failure, but my stress level is way up there. We will get through this. I’ve actually found replacements for Bosong, Joel, and Corine, although they won’t come on board until late January. Just got to suck it up until then.
You know, I don’t fault people for doing what they need to do to advance their careers. In a way, it’s a compliment when your people get promoted. Donna to her credit has been a real trooper in delaying her departure pending getting some new staff on board. I’m extremely disappointed in one individual that I consider selfish and disloyal. Everyone is replaceable though. And you burn bridges at your own peril. ‘Nuff said about that.
So that should bring y’all up to speed on my working life. Far be it from me to complain…
I’m not talking about tomato paste either. It’s been awhile since I’ve posted, so I guess it’s time to play some catch up. Not that much has been happening mind you, but what the hell, that’s never stopped me before.
Last Friday I had some good darts at the Dolce Vita tournament. Two firsts and a second. Was feelin’ a pretty good beer high when I left, then stopped at a soju tent on the way home. A soju drunk on top of the beer was not the smartest idea I’ve had in awhile. Anyhow, got to talking with a couple of the trannies from a nearby tranny bar who were sitting there, which is always kinda interesting. I’ve seen some good looking lady boys on the street, but these “girls” would never be mistaken for anything other than men in drag. Don’t actually remember what we talked about, but I must have bought a lot of soju because I spent W60,000 which was equal to my darts winnings. Ah well, cruised on home about 0500.
I woke up Saturday a little after one, which would have been ok except I had to meet Grant, Rick and Lonnie at the Itaewon subway station at two. Grant is getting married on 1 September and the plan was to head on down to Songtan for a bachelor party. Well, I rushed around and made it, then we subwayed to Nambu bus terminal for the ride down to Songtan, arriving about 4:00.
Surprisingly, after 2 and half years in Korea this was my first trip down there. For those who don’t know, Songtan is the village right outside Osan Air Base. Which means there are lots of bars, shops, and other entertainment that caters primarily to a military clientèle. Kinda like Itaewon on speed.
So, the first thing Grant says is let’s get our hotel rooms. I said, excuse me, no one said anything to me about spending the night. Call me old fashioned but when I do an overnighter I like to carry a change of clothes and a toothbrush. Rick and Lonnie said they hadn’t decided whether they were spending the night yet, so we kinda just let it slide. So we hit the dart supply shop and stocked up some dart paraphernalia. Then we decided to eat. I was thinking a good burger would hit the spot, but the other guys wanted Thai. Just what my stomach needed after a night of soju. I got some seafood noodles at spice level 2 (out of 5) and they went down ok.
Notwithstanding my hangover we decided it was time to drink some beer and play some darts. So, we did a bit of bar crawling and there were quite a few dart bars along the way. There is a dart tourney in Songtan every Saturday night and I was up for playing, but Rick and Lonnie had other ideas. So, we put away the darts and switched to the entertainment bars. I can’t recall the names of most of them, but I do know the first one we tried wouldn’t seat us because the other guys were carrying backpacks (yeah, they brought a change of clothes). So we wound up at a place called UN Club.
Ok, it was a juicy bar. And in between buying W10,000 juice drinks, the girls would do a pole dance on stage. Sexy outfits but no exposed breasts or anything like that. Now, those girls shore were friendly and being that it was a bachelor party and all we let them entertain us for awhile (in exchange for us buying them drinks of course. The girl sitting beside me was covered in tattoos which is kinda of a turn off, but since I was not looking for love in all the wrong places it didn’t matter much. An unnamed guy (hey there is honor among thieves) and the girl he was sitting with were really getting along in an up close and personal kinda way however. After a couple of hours we were ready to move on and being as how there weren’t many other suckers, I mean customers, around they were probably sincerely sorry to see us go. Once we got outside, Grant brought up the hotel room thing again. By now Rick and Lonnie had decided to stay and the unnamed one was wanting to get to “know” the girl from UN Club, so he got a room too. I had no intention of staying and knowing I had to find my way back on my own dampened my spirits a bit.
But being the good trooper that I am, I decided to hang awhile anyway. So, we stopped at Mickey D’s for the burger I was craving then moved on to some “go go” bars. These basically featured cute (mostly) young Filipinas dancing on stage in mini-skirts. Guess I’m getting old, but it just didn’t do much for me. One young dancer (couldn’t have been more than 19) wanted to sit with me after her dance, but I sent her away to Rick instead. Just wasn’t in the mood for that kind of company.
So about midnight the guys decided they were ready for a return visit to UN Club. Which is when I said my goodbyes. I was as drunk as I wanted to be and unlike them, I still had to make it home. So, I found my way back to the bus station, and of course it was closed. So, I hailed a cab and asked if he wanted to take me to Itaewon. The cabbie agreed and we were off. Of course, after midnight taxi fares are higher but I was surprised at just how fast the meter was rolling off the Won. I checked my wallet and found W73,000, so I crossed my fingers that I would have enough for the trip. As fate would have it, when we he pulled up to my door 40 minutes later the fare came to W71,000. So, I gave him the W73,000, said kamsamnida, and headed upstairs. Yeah, I could have gotten a room for less than the cab fare, but I was glad to be home.
And on Sunday I rested (hey, it worked for the Lord). Watched a good movie called “The Departed”.
Monday was dart league. We played one of the weaker teams in our division, T.A.P. from 3 Alley Pub. We took them down 14-5, which is even more impressive than it sounds because our best player Cuatro was not available due to the military exercise. I went 6-0 with a few marks which will hopefully move me up from my embarrassing 14th place ranking.
I also found out Monday that my star employee Corine has accepted a job in Washington, DC. She is leaving at the worst possible time, but I can’t fault her as it is a big promotion. So, I am happy for her but pretty bummed to be losing her. She has been like a big sister to me and I am going to really miss her friendship as well as her stellar job performance. Anyway, I’ll say more about her later, I am really not wanting to think about it much now. She is here until 15 October, but I won’t be able to get a replacement on board before she leaves. My only other US employee (the one who had twins) is leaving next Friday. So, I’m pretty much fucked work wise, but that’s life.
Tuesday was my 3rd week of Korean lessons from my tutor. I have to give her credit, she does a lot of preparation for me. Makes little games so I can practice what she has taught me. Although it makes me feel like I’m in kindergarten, which is probably about the right assessment of my current skill level. Still, I am reading better and she says my pronunciation is good. At this point I am just building vocabulary, I am a long way from conversation. I’m enjoying doing the reciprocal English lessons I’m providing, although I don’t work near as hard at it as she does. She says it is helping and she seems appreciative, so I’m glad for that. I need to have her and her husband over for dinner one of these days. I’ve met him a couple of times now. He is a Korean rapper, apparently of some local fame (at least he has a weekend radio show). His stage name is “Rapatizer”, but I’ve never heard him perform. He dresses kinda urban and has a big afro which is a little peculiar looking on a Korean guy. Tells me he is going to get some corn rows soon. Ok, then.
Last night I got asked to pinch hit for a missing player on the Dolce Vita pool league team. I haven’t even picked up a pool stick for months. So, I had low expectations going in and I managed to achieve them. Well, I won one game when my opponent scratched on the 8-ball. Still, I guess that was better than a forfeit.
And so that brings us up to the moment. Glad we had this chance to catsup.
It’s the time of the season again. Soldiers rotating out after completing their tour of duty in Korea. A good thing for them of course, but it also means saying goodbye to friends.
This time we bid farewell to Mario. A great guy who always wears a big shit eatin’ grin on his face and is quick to laugh and offer words of encouragement. He joined our dart team last year and really contributed to our successful season. Just an all around great guy who kept us loose and always found a way to keep it fun. He is missed already.
Anyway, we did his going away gig at Dolce Vita Thursday night. Lots of food and beer and a dart tournament called “Last Chance to Beat Mario”. I wound up playing against Mario and his partner. I admit to being somewhat conflicted because while it would be nice for Mario to take first in the tourney held in his honor, I only play darts one way–to win. So, we took the first leg in cricket, and they came back to take the ’01 leg. We jumped out to an early lead in the third cricket leg, but then Mario threw a 7-mark on 15s for points. Damn dude. We got beat fair and square and Mario wound up taking the championship match. And I got W5000 for 3rd. Perfect ending!
Mario’s next duty station is in Hawaii so don’t feel too sorry for him. Here’s some pictures from Thursday night:
Mario in action. Should have blinded him BEFORE that 7-mark!
Mario and Se Hwa.
Food, beer, and darts. Does it get any better than this?
Mario’s friend and teammate Lonnie.
Jun from Bless U Pub.
Me and my partner Mac. We gave Mario a good game, but in the end he was just too good for us.
Petro, the dart league president and a Korean guy I’ve never seen before.
Mario holding court. I think these are some of his Hash friends.
Jim, Dolce owner, teammate, and host of the event. Dolce kicked in W100,000 to sweeten the tourney pot.
Mario modeling our new dart league Jersey. Pretty cool, huh? Lonnie did the graphic design.
Bill and Joon. Got an invite to their wedding in October.
Mario with his share of the winnings from the tourney victory. Good luck spending that Won in Hawaii dude!
So, that’s the report on Mario’s big night. Dolce is going to be a lot quieter without you and here’s hoping our paths cross again one day…
Four years ago this month, my friend and soulmate succumbed to breast cancer. Until this moment, I have never written of her, although few days pass when she is not in my thoughts. Even now, the pain of losing her seems too raw and fresh to contemplate, and yet her memory is so wonderful that it begs to be shared if only to give her spirit some substance within the dimension of the living. Although mere words, especially within the constraints of my limited talent of expression, could never capture the essence of this remarkable woman. But Linda Ketner loved me and would certainly forgive my feeble efforts at a proper remembrance. And so, for you, my friend, I share the story that I carry in my heart.
