Drowning in the pool of mediocrity

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And that’s all I have to say about the mid-term elections. You’ll get what you deserve.

I’m glad I won’t have to witness the upcoming disaster first hand.

Meanwhile, here is the latest dispatch from my life in paradise:

Brian joined the Wednesday Walkers group hike yesterday.

I wanted to show him the scenes he’d seen over the years, as posted on LTG. So we spent some time on The Bitch trail.

Through a shanty village as we departed.
The chickens have come home to roost.
A ray of sunshine.
The classic view of Barretto from on high.
A shady moment.
Posing with Easter Mountain.
Cookies for the mountain mama Onelia.
And some sweets for the sweet.
Leaving Marian Hills behind and heading for home.
And we finished with lunch at The Rite Spot On The Roof.
The route of our 5K journey.

And later in the afternoon we jumped into the deep end of the pool. Well, I know I was in way over my head at the Alaska Club 9-Ball pool tournament anyway.

We started by imbibing some aiming fluid at Sloppy Joe’s prior to the beginning of the tournament.
When the games commenced, I was a little embarrassed by my inconsistent and lackluster performance.
Mercy showed no mercy on me, and promptly dispatched me to the loser’s bracket.
Brian, on the other hand, played quite well and was still in the winner’s bracket when my tourney time was over.

I generally enjoy competing in this weekly tournament because it provides a nice change of pace from my usual bar time. The only downside is that things move slowly. The tournament starts at 6:30. I was drawn to play in the opening match—and lost. My turn in the loser’s bracket didn’t come until almost 8:30. I won that game, then didn’t play again for over an hour. I lost and was eliminated, but it was almost 10 p.m. before I left.

Brian played until 11:30 before he was knocked out of the tournament. He was told that sometimes things don’t finish until much later than that. Yikes. Making it until 9 p.m. is a struggle for me these days. We’ll see how my pool “career” plays out—and whether I can handle those long hours.

And that’s the way yesterday played itself out.

Via Facebook memories, a couple of more photos from my trip to Cambodia four years ago:

A Phnom Penh street scene.
I don’t remember exactly what this Cambodian lass whispered in my ear, but I’m pretty sure it wasn’t, “Let’s get something straight between us.” She might have made it hard on me, though.

I have to say, my trek through the LTG archives is becoming more and more of a chore. I spent an hour going through the May 2023 posts and didn’t find much of anything worth sharing in “The Story of My Life.” Yeah, it’s all the same old, same old: hikes in the morning and bars at night. Hmm, not much has changed, has it? Well, at least I have a girlfriend now, so there’s that. Anyway, here’s a nothing-special post from the last day of May.

Today’s YouTube video shares the ten ultimate albums for the soundtrack of retirement. I actually owned seven of them at one time or another—my record collection stayed behind when I moved to Korea. I’m sure they melted when ex-wife #3’s house burned down. Oh, well, I have the memories at least.

I’ve gotta do what I gotta do:

Better than being comma-tose.
No money, no honey!
At least it’s not toast.

I’ve been subjecting Brian to my lame humor in person. He’s flying out to Thailand this afternoon. Safe travels!

It’s 1978 and the Mercury is at the top of the charts. God save the Queen!

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