That sinking feeling

Spent a couple of hours out on the Kokomo’s floating bar yesterday. The brown knees there seemed to enjoy the brownies I shared with them. There was a big spender aboard who bought all the girls a drink for Mother’s Day. That made me happy because I didn’t have to! As people came and went, I couldn’t help but notice a large percentage of the guests were Filipinos. You almost never saw that in the past. Things are changing around here as the Subic area becomes a destination for folks fleeing the big city lockdowns. That’s good for business, and keeping the bars viable is good for me. Win-win!

Regarding the title of this post, no, the floating bar was not sinking. But the sun was.

The sun was doing fine when I first arrived.
But then it was going…
…going…
…gone!
No worries, though. First thing this morning it was coming up again. Just like clockwork!

After departing the floating bar, I walked across the beach and had some dinner at Da’ Kudos.

Just some chicken fingers and a side of Cole slaw, but both were quite good.
I‘m not Buddhist, but this sort of captured my mood these past couple of days.
I guess I’ll just try and walk it off…

Speaking of walking, this is Hash Monday and I’m one of the Hares:

It was really Scott’s trail, me and Jim just did the chalk and powder chores…

We set the trail this morning and it kind of kicked my ass. Two climbs on a hot day wasn’t much fun. Most likely, it will be hotter this afternoon when everyone else does the trail Glad I’m not them! Now I need to shower up and get ready to head out to the VFW to give the Hashers their marching orders.

I’m glad I don’t have this kind of comma problem:

It’s all a matter of perspective.

Crawling around

I wasn’t having the best of days yesterday, so I decided to do something about it. My preferred method was to drown my sorrows. It seemed to work just fine. I was starting out much earlier than normal, leaving the house at 1:30. I had the bright idea of doing an old-fashioned bar crawl–I’d start at the first bar on my side of town, and then go bar-to-bar until I reached the last one or couldn’t go any further. That plan got stymied immediately when the first bar–Outback–hadn’t opened yet (most bars here open no earlier than 2:00). Well, why not do it in reverse? I’d walk to the other side of town, then make my way back. I knew Dive In opened early so that would be my first stop.

The front door was unlocked, so enter I did.

A traditional bar crawl usually entails one beer then moving on to the next bar. I threw tradition out the window. For one thing, my friend Jessa came and sat with me. Of course, I bought her a drink. Gerlie was also at the bar with her boyfriend, and she bought me a beer in memory of her beating me at darts Friday night. Then a customer who remembered me from somewhere, but I didn’t remember him, sent over another beer. Jessa suggested we play a game of pool, so we did that. It was also another bar employee’s birthday (19, yikes!) and pizza and chicken were delivered for the celebration. Naturally, I bought the birthday girl a drink. By now I had been in Dive In for several beers and I knew the bar crawl idea wasn’t going to happen.

It was nice spending time with Jessa. She can hold up her end of a conversation and has a good sense of humor. Too bad things didn’t work out for us.

I decided to start making my way back to my side of town. Along the way, I came upon Cheap Charlies and decided to have a quick cold one upstairs. I was surprised that I was the only customer.

The gals were thirsty and hungry, so I bought them a little dinner too.

Just a couple of beers there, and I moved on up the highway. And then I came to Beach Please, and thought “why not?”.

I love the name and its double entendre implications.

I was also the only customer here. I’m pretty sure Beach Please is targeting the locals market–no girls at all.

So, I had the view all to myself. That’s nice too.

A couple more beers, then I walked on the beach for a bit until I reached Mango’s.

Where I perched on my regular beachside stool and took in the view.

This was my last stop of the day. I know I took a trike home from there, but this morning I couldn’t remember if I had paid my bar tab before leaving. I may have been a little inebriated by then.

It’s Mother’s Day today, so naturally I’m remembering my sweet mom.

The look I’m giving my older brother seems to say “mom loves me best.”
Gone but not forgotten.

In other news, I signed the lease for my new place today. I received no response from the current landlord to the email I sent. The message I sent asking if he’d received the email was also ignored. I’m probably going to have a fight on my hands. My move-in date for the apartment is June 1. This current residence is paid for through the end of July. Absent a refund, it looks like I’m going to be maintaining two places. It’s nice to be rich!

I snapped some photos of the apartment this afternoon:

The front entrance as seen from my carport. I don’t have a car, but I might park my grill next to that wall. The stairs to the right lead to the upstairs apartment.
Hey, I can see Easter mountain from my front yard!
Looking through the front door…
The CR near the entrance, That will be handy for those rare nights when I overindulge and really, really need to pee when I get home.
No bed in the guest room. That’s actually okay because I have a bed I purchased when I moved into my current place.
A nice CR with shower in the guest room…
The kitchen.
A small pantry…
The dining and living areas…
The master bedroom.
A large master bath…
…with a walk-in shower…
The balcony…
A view from the balcony (also from the MBR). So, I still get to see the bay from my house.

Anyway, it’s smaller than what I have now, but it will suffice. Too bad my current landlord thought raping me for a hundred bucks a month was a good idea. Glad that I had this option.

So that’s where things stand as of the moment. Going to make a run out to the floating bar this afternoon. Yes, I made some brownies for the brown knees there. But before I go, let me leave you with this:

My sentiments exactly.

Looking for a Tibag

A second place finish in darts last night. No complaints, really. We threw well, our opponents threw weller…er, better I mean. That’s the way the darts fly sometimes.

Our Friday hiking group journeyed out past Naugsol to begin a planned hike to Tibag and back. On a previous visit, we walked the highway, this time we were planning to take a riverside path. Of course, things don’t always go according to plan. Our trail led us up to the top of a small mountain, then abruptly dead-ended. I hate backtracking, but we had no choice. We eventually took a little-used trail down the mountain, and near the bottom, we ran into the trail we thought would lead us to Tibag. Alas, a couple of kilometers later it also came to a dead-end. Another retreat, then we said “fuck it” and made our way up to the highway. It was too late at this point to continue on to Tibag, so we just hiked the highway back to our vehicle. Enjoy the photos from our ill-fated adventure:

Our drop off point.
Across the river over bridge #6.
Let’s go to Tibag!
New vistas to enjoy along the way…
Our hardy band of hikers.
A tree I fancied…
A river with a carabao.
You’ve got rocks in your head if you think THAT will stop us.
I rather like the outdoor sitting area.
Onward and upward.
Larger than usual turnout…practically a platoon.
The natives were resting.
There’s bound to be a trail around here someplace…
When you’ve been lost in the woods and then come upon some litter (from Jollibee, no less!), it’s a good sign that civilization is near.
The ol’ swimming hole…
Doing a little river dancing…on the rocks!
Kids at the store…
Not a bad little sari-sari store…
Loaded up and ready to roll on home.

Ah, well. Tibag will be there next time. Maybe we’ll actually find a way to get there!

In the meantime, I’m considering starting a chapter of the People Encouraging Niceness In Society here in Barretto. How hard can it be?

Not to be a dick about it, but you’d want to be stiff on membership requirements.

And life goes on.

Reupholstered

Or maybe recovered is the better word. Either way, I overcame whatever it was that ailed me yesterday, and have now rejoined the land of the living. It’s good to be here!

Obviously, I wasn’t all that sick. It just seemed that my get up and go, got up and left. I baked brownies in anticipation of visiting the floating bar, but when it came time to shower, I just didn’t have the energy to make the effort. So I sat on my lazy ass and watched some TV. I was surprised to find Lonesome Dove, the Larry McMurtry Western series, available on YouTube (I’ve canceled Netflix and Amazon Prime). Been years since I’ve watched that program and I enjoyed seeing the first part of Part One again.

It was the first night in a very long time that I hadn’t gone out to enjoy a beer at one of the many fine venues available in my sweet little retirement town. Here’s to hoping it’s a long time before that ever happens again. I’ll be doing Friday night darts at Alley Cats today, so that will hopefully get me back in my groove.

What else have I got for you?

This pretty much sums up why I decline to argue with my Facebook “friends.” What’s the point? I posted this today with the admonition to not take my silence for acquiescence of their bullshit arguments. As I am wont to say, “all I know is that everything you know, is wrong.” Once I thought that I was wrong, but I was mistaken.
This one was posted on a friend’s timeline. Not sure why I had a “you talking to me?” reaction. Yeah, it sounds a bit like my “friends with benefits” charity program. But I still believe that people helping each other is its own kind of charity. And it is certainly better than nothing.

Here are just a couple of photos from my Wednesday Walkers group hike I was too lazy didn’t have the energy to post yesterday:

Hey, maybe that’s why I was so tired!
It’s burning season. Here they took out the whole side of the hill. Won’t miss the thatch grass, that’s for sure. Still have no idea how they avoid creating those California-type wildfires I grew up with.
Harvesting bamboo looks like hard work to me…
And so does doing laundry in a creek bed.
We don’t have autumn here, but I did take a fall down this hillside. Luckily, I came down on my ass and didn’t hit anything hard or painful on the way to the bottom.
And no, I didn’t forget to get a shot of Easter mountain. You’re welcome!
After the hike, I did some lunch at Sit-n-Bull. Sorry, I took a couple of bites before remembering to take a photo. The ribs were good, the sides were excellent.

And that’s all I’ve got for today. I joined the Friday hiking group for a trip out to Tibag this morning. I’ll post about that tomorrow.

It’s a matter of degree

I just watched a documentary on Bangladesh. Pretty shocking really. I mean, on a very basic level I was aware that it was a poor and poverty-stricken nation. I remember that concert George Harrison hosted back in 1971 (damn, I’m old!), but I just haven’t paid much attention since then. Wow. I apologize for calling the Philippines a third-world country. That’s an insult to the genuine third-world status of Bangladesh. Don’t take my word for it, you can see what I saw on YouTube.

So, you may be asking what in the hell am I doing watching TV on a perfectly fine Thursday afternoon? Truth is, I’m feeling poorly today. No fever, no cough, no energy. Yeah, that again. Took the dogs for an abbreviated walk, came home, and took a two-hour nap. Woke up and moved onto the couch, then turned on my little-used television. Scrolled through some YouTube recommendations and clicked on the one above. I don’t know why. Anyway, it remains to be seen whether I’ll find the strength to venture out later today or not.

Yesterday, I changed things up a bit and started my beer drinking at the Dive In bar. It’s on the far end of town and there is nothing really special about the place. Well, other than the fact that my ex-crush Jessa works there as a bartender. Naturally, I bought her some lady drinks, she sat with me at the bar, and we had a very pleasant chat for an hour or so. I was reminded of why I was attracted to her in the first place. No, I don’t expect I’ll be attempting to resurrect that relationship, but I’m glad we are still on friendly terms. As I was leaving, Jessa told me not to be such a stranger. I responded there are so many bars to visit and so little time. But I may try to find a way to add Dive In to my rotation.

Next, I had a couple of more beers at It Doesn’t Matter. The place was pretty packed for a Wednesday evening. Glad it is going well for the new owners. My regular waitress there, Roan, is a hoot. She’d been out sick for a few days and I mentioned the waitress who served me in her absence. Roan asked if had told her any jokes. I told her no and asked why she wanted to know. She said, “I’m going to use them, but don’t want to tell a joke they’ve heard already.” I was impressed that she even remembered my jokes, let alone found them funny! So, of course, I felt obligated to tell her another one:

A friend’s wife has been ill for quite some time and the doctor has been running tests to find out what is wrong. Finally, the doc told my friend he’d narrowed it down to two possible causes–AIDS or Alzheimer’s. My friend was like “oh my God! What should I do?” The doctor replied, “well if it were me I’d drive her ten miles out of town. If she comes back home, don’t fuck her!”

Yeah, not my best work, but Roan laughed politely. Oh, coincidentally, Roan used to work at Dive In and is friends with Jessa. Life in a small town, eh?

I departed shortly thereafter and headed out to The Pub for my weekly fix of Korean-style chicken wings. I’m usually only in there once a week, but I’m greeted like a regular: “Welcome, John. San Miguel Zero and sixteen chicken wings to go, right?” Yep, thanks! That’s my kind of service and the wings were excellent as usual.

Ah, I’ve become a predictable man of routines it seems. Monday I Hash. Tuesday is darts at Alley Cats. Wednesday has become It Doesn’t Matter night (and wing night, of course). Thursday I hit up the Kokomo’s floating bar on Baloy Beach, Friday and Saturday more darts at Alley Cats, and on Sunday I like to visit my friends at Cheap Charlies. I was not kidding when I told Jessa that I wasn’t sure how to fit Dive In into my schedule.

I don’t know if I’m feeling better or not, but I just popped some brownies into the oven. I don’t want to disappoint the brown knees on the floating bar should I decide to venture out later.

Yesterday, I sent this email to my landlord:

Hello, this is John McCrarey, your tenant in Casa Rosenda.

I have reviewed the lease contract I signed with Gloria Ocampo on May 25, 2018.  The term of the lease was for three years, expiring May 25, 2021.  In accordance with the terms of the lease, this is the formal notice of my intention to NOT renew the lease. 

I have also reviewed my rental receipts which confirm I paid a one-month advance rent and two-month deposit on June 18. 2018.  I trust the two-month deposit will be returned to me promptly.  Please advise if that is not the case.

Also, on December 29, 2020, I paid six months’ rent in advance.  That means my rent is paid through the end of June 2021.  Additionally, I paid one-month advance rent when I signed the lease, so that means the rent is paid through the end of July 2021.  I am prepared to vacate the house by June 1, 2021, provided the rent payments are refunded.  Please advise of your intentions in this regard.

To summarize, as things stand, I am owed two months advance deposit (90,000 pesos) and two months advance rent payments totaling 90,000 pesos, for a total of 180,000 pesos.
Let me know if you have any issues or disagreements with my assessment.

Sincerely,
John M. McCrarey

No response yet. I’m in a bit of a box. I don’t want to lose my new apartment, so I’ll need to sign a lease there next month. But I’ll be damned if I’m going to give up this place before my paid rent has either been refunded or expires. I might have two houses for a while. Everyone I talk to says it’s doubtful I will get the security deposit back. If they do go that route, I’ll do my best to make sure every expat in town knows not to rent from them (in addition to my house, they several duplexes they want to rent out). I’ll help Karma out in any way I can!

And that’s the way it is in my neck of the woods. It could always be worse, and it is in Bangladesh.

Sweet 16

Sixteen years ago my granddaughter, Gracyn, came into the world looking like this:

Ain’t she sweet? I was living in Korea at the time, and I thought it was pretty cool that my first grandchild was born on the Korean holiday called Children’s Day.

And here is how she has grown up:

It’s amazing how much she looks like her mother. She is also quite the athlete, excelling at track and volleyball.

Math was never my strong suit, but I’ve been struggling to understand how a 30-year-old man such as myself can be the grandfather of a 16-year-old. It must be some kind of miracle!

She seems to like the gift I sent her. Imagine that. Happy Birthday!

What a day this is–the birthday, Children’s Day, and for those of Mexican heritage:

Happy Cinco de Mayo!

Meanwhile, here in my world, yesterday was my “lazy” day. No real walking to speak of, just taking care of chores like grocery shopping. I’ve been very frustrated with the constant “out of stock” refrain at Royal lately. So, I had my driver take me to the SM grocery store in Olongapo City. It was a wasted trip, though, because upon arrival just before nine I discovered the store doesn’t open until 10:00. Back to Royal we went, where disappointment is never out of stock. Anyway, if that’s my biggest bitch, life must be very good, indeed!

After my shopping excursion, I came home hungry.

Browned some ground beef and added seasoning.
Warmed up a tortilla and prepared the innards–lettuce, tomato, green onion, cheese, and salsa.
And a burrito was born! Had one for breakfast this morning too in honor of Cinco de Mayo.

I finished third in last night’s dart tourney, which was actually quite miraculous. After the draw, but before the first dart was thrown, my partner came over and apologized. She said she hadn’t thrown darts for a long time and that she wasn’t very good to begin with. I gave her my standard response of “let’s just have fun.” Turns out, she wasn’t exaggerating–her darts were all over the board. Still, with my “I don’t give a shit, let’s get this over with” attitude kicking in, I played well enough to lead us to victory over Cristy and her partner in the first round. I was as surprised as everyone. We weren’t near good enough to beat the eventual champions, however. Hey, we finished in the money, had some fun, and drank some beers. I’d call that a good night.

And so it goes.

It’s not unusual

A rather pleasant 6K Hash run yesterday. A couple of small climbs; otherwise we covered a mostly flat, urban trail. It was all very familiar territory, in fact, I had unknowingly walked a portion of the trail during my Sunday solo hike. I guess nothing new isn’t surprising given that we do organized hikes three times a week in a relatively small geographic area. I’ll be one of the Hares for next week’s Hash, and I doubt we’ll have anything new to offer either. Well, I’ll be throwing down more powder than I saw on yesterday’s trail, but that’s just the way I roll.

Here are some photos from our trek. As usual, these come from multiple sources:

The trail as seen from the eye in the sky.
And so it begins. Black And Dick Her looks tired already! Cum In My Basement just looks hot. As usual. The official start time is 2:30, but our small group of “sane” Hashers left at 2:00. We are slow, and even with a headstart we pretty much always finish last in.
And I thought it was raining rocks. (just kidding, never knew they were up until I saw the photo).
On the familiar streets of Alta Vista. The trail actually went right past the place I expect to be moving into next month.
We didn’t do a lot of elevation, so this was probably the best bay view of the day.
On-Up!
Country living. What else do you need? Water, you say?
Well, there you go! *ahem*
A couple of Hash Gash lovelies, Whatever You Want and Anal Intruder.
She also has a great sense of humor. “Kate, you look better when you don’t wear glasses.” Kate replies, “You look better when I don’t wear glasses, too.”
Living large on the mountain.
Marching onward,,,
Through the backroads of San Isidro…
Crossing the Matain river over what we have dubbed bridge #2.
Show me the way, Pubic Head.
There was a time when I would have just jumped off this wall. Those days are gone for this old man.
I still do alright on flat ground, though.
Looking to the left…
…and looking to the right. Damn, I love this country.
Heading on down to the highway…
Do you smell that, Pubic Head?
Ah, I thought so. I can almost taste it!
We finally arrived at our On-Home venue…
I really do enjoy the outdoors ambiance at Smoke and Bottles.

During the Hash circle I sang a Hash song I wrote a few months ago.

(sung to the tune of Battle Hymn of the Republic)

His eyes have seen the horror of the steepness of the trail

His ears have heard the bitching of all the ones who fell

His lips have felt the passing of the PI’s finest Ales

This Hasher’s done it all!

Glory! Glory! Subic Hashers

Glory! Glory! Subic Hashers

Glory! Glory! Subic Hashers

May you always be ON-ON!

Yeah, I won’t quit my day job.

After the Hash, I didn’t see a trike so I started walking towards home. Then I came upon the Jollibee that opened a few months ago. I don’t really eat fast food these days, but most Filipinos are crazy about their Jollibee, so I figured I’d give it a try.

Ordered up the Champ burger, which on the menu looked a bit like a Quarter Pounder...
This is how it looked on my table. Sorry the photo isn’t better, I’d had a few beers at this point.

My verdict: better than a Quarter Pounder, maybe not as good as a Whopper. But the Champ hit the spot, and that’s what it’s all about.

And that concludes this week’s Hash post.

Losing my mind

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.

These two things are NOT the same.

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:

The hardest thing about making brownies these days is reading the directions on the box, and seeing the temperature settings on the oven. And remembering to take them out of the oven at the appointed time, of course.

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.

How’s that for a full moon? Actually larger than I prefer, but the asses aren’t for sale at CC’s anyway.
And like clockwork, the sun went down, which reminded me I had dinner to attend to back at the house.
Pork chops in the crockpot. That’s a cream of mushroom soup base.
Pork chops on the plate. I had added some mushrooms and pineapple chunks to the mix. Still came out a little on the bland side. I’ll need to spice it up more next time.

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!

Imagine that

Reader: Your grammar’s pathetic.

Me: Oh, yeah? Well, your grandpa’s no better, either

Just a little inside humor. See the comments to yesterday’s post for the backstory. All in good fun.

So, a development of sorts in the continuing drama associated with my pending move. Now, I previously mentioned that one of the brothers in the landlord family was unaware that I had been hit with a rent increase. Apparently, he was upset that he had not been consulted. He has not said anything directly to me, choosing instead to relay information through my basement neighbor, who is technically his employee. He told her to tell me that he had talked to his brother and sister and they agreed to reduce the rent increase to 5%. As you may recall, that is the amount originally proposed that I had objected to–their counteroffer was 10%. Anyway, I relayed back through the neighbor that it was too late; I’d already verbally committed to another place. I also had her convey a counteroffer on my behalf–if they would reduce my rent by 10% I would consider staying. Haven’t heard back. Don’t expect I will.

Ah, the art of negotiation. I spent a goodly portion of my career in labor relations where I participated in collective bargaining for labor agreements. At least the union’s proposals had a basis in reality. I still have no idea what the hell my landlords are thinking. Maybe they aren’t.

I also believe I mentioned I know my upstairs neighbors. They are both Hashers, and the husband (also named John) plays darts. As I was leaving for the tournament on Friday, John was walking past my house on his way to Alley Cats as well. So, we walked together. John casually mentioned that his downstairs neighbors were moving out and he was happy about it because they were so noisy. I told him I was planning to move in downstairs. He was a little surprised and said that explains why he got the email from his landlord asking if he objected to allowing two dogs downstairs. He didn’t. I’m actually not noisy at all, and my dogs only bark when there’s a reason–like someone being outside the door. I don’t think we’ll have any issues in that regard. While I’d prefer to have a house to myself, I’m already thinking in terms of being accommodating. For example, I’ll put my grill in the carport in order to avoid sending up smoke from my balcony to his apartment. Hopefully, we will all just get along fine and dandy.

What else have I got for you? Well, John Kim’s The Pub restaurant just published a new menu. I’ll share it here to illustrate that it isn’t hard to find good food in my little town.

Page 1. The current exchange rate is a tad over 48 pesos to the dollar. I just use 50P to the dollar for easy calculations.
Page 2.
Page 3.
Page 4.

Damn, now I’m hungry for some reason.

I believe getting vaccinated against COVID is a personal choice. I probably will at some point, especially if my freedom to travel is contingent upon vaccination. Other folks might choose a different path, and that’s fine with me.

I agree. I will also confess to feeling a bit like a hypocrite because I’ve always believed that kids should be vaccinated for smallpox, measles, polio, and the like in order to attend public schools. Why is COVID different? The best argument I’ve got is that the other diseases are better known and the vaccines are time-tested and proven effective. Also, COVID doesn’t kill or maim like the others I mentioned. If you have a better argument (for or against) I’d love to hear it.

I am SO ready to do some travelling!

I’ve never seen either side in person…

I’ve got pork chops in the crockpot for dinner tonight, and I made a peanut butter and jelly sandwich (on toast) for lunch. Is there no end to my creativity in the kitchen?

I might give that a try soon!

I’ll close out today’s post with these words of wisdom:

I’m more at peace these days than I have been in a long time.

There are two primary choices in life: to accept conditions as they exist, or accept the responsibility for changing them.

Oddly enough

Darts can be a funny game sometimes. It is one of the few sports where you are not in direct competition with your opponent, by which I mean, you have no control over or “defense” against what the other player does. Ultimately, it is you against the board. The way you beat someone is to throw better and smarter than they do. And yeah, at least at the amateur level, luck can also be a factor. I have often said that the mental aspects of darts are every bit as important as the physical act of tossing the arrows. When I’m throwing poorly, rather than think about my mechanics, I tell myself to “focus”.

So, I say all of the above as a prelude to recounting what occurred at last night’s dart tournament. It’s a standard “luck of the draw” format–everyone picks a number and gets paired of with the person who drew the corresponding number; one plays with two, three plays with four, etc. Sometimes the results might not appear “fair”, for example, when two top players get paired up to play together. But that’s the luck of the draw. Everyone has a chance to draw a good partner, sometimes you do, sometimes you don’t. I learned early in my darting “career” not to complain about the player you wind up with–what’s the point? I’ll try and mentor a beginner or offer advice on strategy, but I try not to disparage the skills of the person I’m paired with. Now, that’s not to say that I enjoy playing with certain players. Sometimes it’s a personality conflict, other times I find their lack of situational awareness frustrating. Again, my reaction is on me and I don’t fault my partner overtly, it just messes with my head sometimes and throws me off my game.

For example, on Tuesday night I drew Bhae as my partner. I don’t really know her, but I’ve seen her around and I have always thought she’s the ugliest Filipina I’ve ever seen. Yeah, that’s how shallow I can be sometimes. But don’t get me wrong, when the game is on i don’t give a shit what my partner looks like. In fact, a hottie can be distracting, especially if I start thinking about the dart in my pants rather than the ones in my hand. But back to Bhae, I’d say she is an average darter at best. Very inconsistent though in her throws, sometimes even missing the board altogether. She does tend to get lucky more often than others (for example, throwing at a 20 and hitting a triple 18). Anyway, I can deal with a partner like that. You throw, you miss–that’s just part of the game. What drives me crazy with Bhae is that she seems clueless sometimes when it comes to what to aim for. In 501, you have to finish with a double out–so you want to leave your partner an outshot, or at least an even number to work with. Strategy is even more important in cricket and luck is less a factor. When to throw at certain numbers and when to go for points are critical aspects of the game. I have much more success in cricket than in ’01 because I usually have a better understanding of the strategic opportunities than do my opponents.

Bhae oftentimes doesn’t appear to know where, when, and what to throw at. One example–we were down on points in cricket. Our opponents had all of their numbers closed and we still had the15 open. Now, you can’t win if you are behind in points, and the only way we could get points was to throw as many bullseyes as possible. Bhae chose to go for the meaningless 15. After her throw, I asked her in frustration “why do you think the 15 is important in this situation?” She just gave me a blank look. I immediately regretted calling her out that way, reminding myself it was just a game. A game played in a bar where we are supposed to be having fun. It was stupid darts, but who cares? Yeah, we lost the game and lost the tourney and I hate to lose, but so what?

Which (finally) brings us to last night. We picked our numbers and were waiting for the teams to be announced. I’m thinking to myself “anyone but Bhae, please”. Then they called out Billy and Espie as a team. Damn, they are both outstanding (finishing #3 and #4 in the upper division of the singles league), I figured they were going to be a shoo-in for first place. And then came “John and Bhae”. Damn. Well, I figured it was going to be an early night of darts. Started thinking about where I might go after my exit from Alley Cats. Maybe Mango’s for dinner or It Doesn’t Matter for beers. Or both. In the meantime, I had a tournament to lose.

Except it didn’t turn out that way. Surprisingly, we won our first match. And then we won another. Bhae was throwing her usual darts; occasional incompetence, periodic luck, and sometimes hitting what she aimed at. I was having a good night at the line–lots of bulls and even the coveted 180 (best possible score). I’m not saying luck wasn’t a factor as well, it just seemed the stars aligned for us. Well, I knew that we still had to play Billy and Espie, but the idea that we might actually finish in second place seemed attainable. Then came the head-to-head with the strongest team in the bar. I don’t know how, but we managed to beat them two straight. We were in the finals!

Not surprisingly, Billy and Espie came back up from the losers bracket to play us for the championship. And they were out for revenge! They won the first set and I figured it had been a good ride, let’s get this over with. We won 501, they won cricket, so it came down to the third and deciding leg. I won the coin toss and surprised the bar by choosing to play 501 again, despite cricket being my best game. Well, I knew my partner was better suited to 501 and we were a team, after all. Both teams played a great game and in the end, we both had an outshot. They missed theirs. I hit mine. We won the tourney!

Luck of the draw, indeed!

The unlikely champs. Stranger things have happened,. I just can’t remember when.

Way down in Kokomo’s

I have heard it said that over time humans begin to resemble their pet dogs. I wonder if the reverse is true as well?

Now, I ain’t sayin’ I’ve ever been too drunk to make it up the stairs, but if that ever happens, I can imagine it looking something like this.

Speaking of dogs, my new landlady provided a modified pet amendment to the lease that includes a provision for TWO dogs. So, that’s another hurdle cleared. I went through my desk drawers yesterday and found my original lease for this house and my rent and deposit receipts. I also have the receipts for the three aircon units I’ll be taking with me. Yeah, I’m expecting trouble. As I understand it, the Ocampo’s are a politically connected and powerful family (the daughter was a Congresswoman), so I doubt I’ll prevail in any court battles. We’ll see what happens, but I do prefer to avoid being deported, so I’m only going to push it so far. More to come on that I’m sure.

In the meantime, life goes on like it always does. Walked out to Baloy beach yesterday afternoon. It was deserted.

Nothing like it was just a few weeks ago.

What’s changed? Well, Manila is on a lockdown status which means no one is supposed to travel to or from that area. Just read today that one of the local hotels is being investigated for accepting guests from Manila this past weekend. The other thing that happened was a couple of drownings. Kids under 15 are not supposed to be out of the house (same with old fuckers over 65) and that rule still applies here in Olongapo. So, the police are patrolling the beaches on foot now and families are staying away. By the way, no one has ever asked me my age throughout this pandemic, but if they ever do I’m going to say “55”. That’s actually the year I was born. I’ll let the cops do the math. If they can. Which I doubt.

While softly singing “My Way”.

If I’m on Baloy beach, you know I’m bound to wind up on the Kokomo’s floating bar. And I did. Just a handful of customers, most of whom I gathered were up from Angeles City, which is still on a lockdown that includes an alcohol ban. Poor bastards!

But here in Olongapo, we are not only drinking, but we are also fucking parasailing! I’m sure there is no COVID way up there though.
As usual, I sat and enjoyed my cold beers, chatted with the female staff, and watched the sun make its way towards the horizon.

I started feeling a little hungry, so I grabbed the menu from Treasure Island and had a look. For some reason, I decided to give the Mexican a try–quesadillas and tacos. Now, the kitchen at TI is one of the better ones in town, but I’ve generally been disappointed with the Mexican dishes everywhere I’ve tried them.

The chicken quesadillas were average at best. The tacos were pretty disappointing. I had ordered softshell but the resto called the bar to say none were available, so I settled for a hard shell. It wouldn’t have made a difference though. Lesson learned.

The girls were all hungry too, so of course, I fed them. Some Filipino dishes and chicken. They seemed pleased with their meal, and that pleased me.

And then the sun went down behind the mountain, signaling that it was time to say my goodnight to the girls and make my way home.

Well, I did have one for the road at Johan’s. Home by 8:00, made a smoothie, checked the ‘net, and headed off to bed.

I’m growing weary of the stupidity…
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SbqLCMVRU8o

Winging it

Another Wednesday is in the books. Here’s how I spent mine.

I’ll save the hike for the end. I already told you about the drama with my house. Nothing really new to report, other than one of the landlord’s family members, Pablo, is in town. He’s the guy I actually rented from originally. My basement neighbor told me he didn’t know anything about the rent increase. Hmm, maybe some family drama on the horizon. Meanwhile, the rental agent for my new place sent me a draft copy of the lease, which looks pretty standard. A concerning item on the “pet amendment” says only one dog is allowed. Obviously, that will have to be modified or it is no deal.

An image from yesterday’s dog walk. I love both of my boys. Buddy a little more than Lucky, but I ain’t letting either one go.

Put on my darts attire and carried my arrows down to Alley Cats for the tourney last night, but after arriving, I just wasn’t feeling like playing. Wednesday is league day, so the tournament starts later and there are more players than usual. I just didn’t want to invest that much time sitting around a crowded bar. A couple of beers and I was off to a less crowded venue, It Doesn’t Matter. Some more beers there, then I headed out to The Pub to indulge my Wednesday tradition of Korean-style chicken wings.

I get them to go and enjoy them with a side of kimchi at home. Had the leftovers for breakfast this morning.
I’ve also been enjoying the full moon these past couple of days.

What else? Well, this is the photo I used for this week’s episode of making my liberal friends on Facebook heads explode:

It worked. Seems now that Trump is gone, the left and the media (but I repeat myself) need a new villain to be their Hitler. Looks like DeSantis is the man for the job!

I was taking a leak in Mango’s the other night and saw this cartoon posted on the wall. I like it because it provides a good excuse for me being such a slowpoke on our group hikes.

Of course, about the worse thing we encounter on trail is barbed wire. And some holes.

I guess that provides a good lead-in for my report on yesterday’s Wednesday Walkers hike. We did a relatively easy 6K trek with one moderate climb. That’s the way old fuckers like me like it! Anyway, lots of photos (many courtesy of Scott) will tell the story better than I can.

Our trail began at my house and ended at Dynamite Dick’s.
A larger than normal group this time out in my front yard. Sorry my photo came out so blurry…
And we are on our way!
Down and out of Alta Vista.
Regrouping before we start our big climb of the day...
Up we go!
Not real steep and not too long, but still plenty challenging for the likes of me…
I see someone has smashed off the face of the Virgin Mother. Please watch over us as best you can anyway, Mary…
Almost to the top…
Hmm. This would be quite a change in lifestyle. No, I don’t think that’s the life for me!
On the other hand, I would practically be neighbors with my sweet friend, Mary Jane Gamgam. Looking pretty good for a mother of three young ones…
And a nice view from her house of the valley below…
One of my least favorite obstacles on trail…barbed wire fences. A couple of years ago, one of them left me in stitches…
Making a cookie delivery...
Hiking on the familiar My Bitch trail.
The descent begins…
You can see the thatch grass is finally growing weak and brown. Lots of burning going on now, too.
Pausing to enjoy the view…
And what a view it is!
Steps to the bottom…
…and down we go.
Rehydration at Dick’s…

Another good day on trail!

I will endeavor to leave my faithful readers with a smile:

Nice tits, too! Hey, I thought it was funny

Movin’ out

So, the decision has been made. I’ll be leaving Casa Rosenda when my lease expires in June. The landlord called today to advise that the rent would indeed be raised by 10%. His justification was that needed repairs would cost $2000, therefore higher rent was necessary. I told him I would be moving out then.

The stupidity of this situation is mind-boggling. They are going to spend two grand on repairs I never asked for. That’s fine, they should maintain their property as they deem necessary. They want to charge me an extra $100. a month to pay for the repairs and I’m not willing to do so, seeing as how I’m already overpaying for this house. When I move out I’ll be taking the appliances I purchased, including three aircon units upstairs, with me. So, they’ll need to buy replacements for those, along with a stove and refrigerator. That’s another chunk of cash they’ll be spending upfront. Had I renewed my lease in June, I’d be writing them a check for $11,000–a year’s rent. That was a sure thing for them, but they’ve chosen this path instead.

Landlord says the next tenant will pay $1000. a month (versus the $900. I currently pay). Good luck finding a sucker who will pay that for this old place. Hell, it sat vacant for YEARS before I foolishly came along and overpaid. There’s a pandemic and lockdown now, so folks are not able to move here from out of the country. It’s likely only a foreigner would be able to afford that kind of rent, and most people in a position to do so would be more likely to purchase their own place. The landlord’s family owns several other places here in the neighborhood that have been sitting vacant for the three years I’ve lived here. Good luck finding a renter to replace me. In the unlikely event it only takes a month, they won’t recoup what they lost when I moved out for six months. I expect it will be much longer than that before a replacement renter is found. Good luck with that. I’ll be up the street keeping an eye on how long this house is vacant and laughing every time I walk by.

Up the street? Yes, I’m moving into that downstairs apartment I mentioned previously. It’s not ideal, but it will do. And it is $300. a month cheaper than this house. I went and had a look yesterday. It’s only a couple of years old, has two large bedrooms with full baths, and another half bath off the entrance. The kitchen is larger and more modern than my current place, has actual cabinets, and a pantry! That’s probably what I like best about the apartment. I was surprised that it even has a nice view, from the balcony anyway. There’s also a maid’s quarters downstairs and some space for the dogs to hang out. The biggest drawback is having upstairs neighbors, but I’ll deal with it as necessary. Perhaps we will all just get along.

So, that’s my big news. Stand by to see what the future holds. In the meantime, we can take a look back into the past courtesy of Facebook memories.

Three years ago I wore Kevin Kim’s ass out on a climb up Namsan. Good times!
Seven years ago, Kevin and I were holding court in Itaewon. Had dinner at a Brazilian steak house and cofeee afterward...
We haven’t aged a day in seven years, have we?
And ten years ago I had completed my ego wall/darting area in my newly renovated house back in Columbia, SC. That dream didn’t last.

And neither did the marriage. Jee Yeun left this on my Facebook page ten years ago:

I love you baby!!! So happy about you were always next me and take very good care of me!!!! My baby…Ummmmmmmmmmmmmmm….

Oh, well. Everything changes, but life goes on.

You should never argue with a crazy mind
You oughta know by now
You can pay Uncle Sam with the overtime
Is that all you get for your money?

And if that’s what you have in mind
Yeah, if that’s what you’re all about
Good luck, moving up, ’cause I’m movin’ out

I’m movin’ out

Hasheroni

Yeah, I just made up that word but I’m running out of things to name these weekly Hash posts. And that’s just what this is gonna be!

It was a good day on trail overall, albeit a little convoluted. The Hares had set up a couple of different starting points, and I opted for the short trail, which began in barangay Matain (Subic). Including the hike from the VFW in Barretto, I did just under 8K all told. It was all familiar territory, and the Hares were good enough to offer an alternative route for those who were disinclined to climb Black Rock mountain (including me). My only real complaint was that once again, there was a failure to adequately mark the trail. Part of the problem was the Hares, for some reason, used blue chalk to draw the arrows and markings, and that proved very difficult to see. The also chose to be very frugal with laying powder for reasons known only to them. So, there were a couple of places where I got off trail and had to retreat, but I eventually found my way. I also did a bit of a shortcut at the end, but that was of little consequence.

I’ve got a few pictures to share:

Google was watching. (aren’t they always?)
It actually took me a while to find the start of the trail in Matain. That blue chalk was practically invisible to me. But this is where it started after my 2K walk from the VFW.
Sometimes climbing up steps is easier than a steep dirt trail. But when the stairs are uneven and irregularly spaced, not so much.
And there were a LOT of steps…
A little village basketball court near the top. That’s my hiking companions on the day, Cum In My Basement, and Black And Dick Her.
Praise the Lord, we made it to the top! Reminds me of one of our Hash songs that include reasons why Jesus can’t go Hashing. In this case, Jesus can’t go Hashing ’cause He’s hanging on a cross. The last verse always asks for forgiveness for our blasphemy.
On-On!
Now that’s what I call an outhouse!
Do I smell beer?
Why, yes. Yes, I do! The Hares kindly provided a beer stop along the way. I chose not to participate, however. Wanted to stay focused on getting back to our On-Home before imbibing.
In the shadow of Easter mountain.
That bridge looks perfectly safe to me…
Some Hash Gash lovelies…front to back: Whatever You Want, Leech My Pek Pek, and Leaking Pussy.
Chili and brats to feed the kennel.
I bet you can do that wiener in ONE bite, Wonder Woman.
That’s me performing my duties as Circle Jerk, trying to keep those unruly Hashers in line during our Hash circle.
Here’s a useful tip: Don’t wear new shoes to the Hash. Unless you enjoy drinking out of them…
Socializing after the circle concluded.
Watching the sun go down…
…and the smoke go up.
And another Hash Monday came to an end.

I’ll be back tomorrow with an update on my housing situation and some other tidbits from my so-called life.

That’s how I see it

I found this both entertaining and acceptable.

Last night, or rather yesterday afternoon (I started at 4:30), my venue of choice for my libations was Cheap Charlies. Besides the two gals sitting on each side of me sucking down lady drinks, this is what I saw:

They’ve begun rather strictly enforcing the parking restrictions on the National highway. The traffic enforcers were backing up the truck to tow this car away when the owner came running out of Bottoms Up bar to stop them. I was surprised they let him just drive away without even a ticket. The truck driver looked disappointed, but I suppose he gets paid either way. The hilarious thing to note in this photo is about 20 feet behind the offending vehicle. Yes, that’s a power pole blocking the lane you aren’t allowed to park in. No one targets the pole to be towed away though. When asked about this hypocrisy, the barangay Captain simply said that two wrongs don’t make a right. I’d say stupid is as stupid does. And I don’t drive (or park) in this country.
I also saw “mama”, the homeless woman I once tried to house, setting up camp for the evening.
I still had my camera in zoom mode from the mama pic when I took this shot of the sun going down.
And here it is with the zoom mode turned off. I kinda like the first one better.

Shortly after the sunset, I headed on home to check on my pot roast.

I pulled the very tender beef apart and stirred it into the veggies. Let is stew a bit more while I made up a batch of corn muffins.
I shared my bounty with the basement neighbors and everyone seemed to enjoy it. The makeshift seasoning worked out quite well, actually. The stew definitely had a tanginess about it and was plenty flavorful. I used pepperoncini’s for the first time in a long time, and I also forget to add carrots to the mix. Oh well. I enjoyed leftovers for breakfast this morning too.

Today is Hash Monday, and our On-Home is at the Alta Vista community center. That means making up a batch of chili for the hungry Hashers to enjoy after the hike.

So I put the crockpot back to work and mixed up a double batch. Nothing really special about the way I make chili, but it always sells out. I’ll take that as a compliment.

What else have I got for you? Well, I came across this story about the history and origins of cusswords that I found quite interesting. I hope you motherfuckers like it too.

And the Babylon Bee brightened my day with this story entitled: “Man Who Agrees With The Media, Universities, Corporations, And Hollywood Thinks He’s Part Of The Resistance”. Maybe it will make you laugh too.

On a more serious note, it turns out these COVID mandates are indeed a joke. But you must have known that already. It’s been fun to watch (from afar) as no mandate states like Texas and Florida are suffering no apparent negative consequences, despite predictions of imminent disaster by our liberal elite. And now an MIT study explains why the fear mongers were wrong. It is well past time to let it go and let the rest of us get on with our lives unimpeded by the sheer stupidity of our duplicitous would-be rulers.

Ah, well. There’s always poetry.

I found this sentiment to be quite inspirational.

This verse came immediately to mind:

Roses are red, violets are blue

I could have been happy, but I chose you

yours truly

Yeah, I won’t quit my day job. Oh wait, i don’t have one!

UPDATE: Just came across this bit of wisdom:

Oops! Sorry about that!

It’s official

Cristy is the #1 player in the Barretto Singles League. We had a nice end-of-the-season round robin tournament for the Stars (upper) division players yesterday. In the championship round, Cristy kicked things off by beating Espie 5-2. I played Espie next and also won 5-2. That set up a finals best of seven match between me and Cristy. Cristy won the first two 501 legs, and I won the following two cricket legs. So, it came down to 301 DIDO (double in/double out). Cristy took both and earned the 1000 pesos first prize money.

Well played, well earned, and well deserved, Cristy.

On the other board, the remaining three Stars players competed for the Best of the Rest prize money (500 pesos), and Billy prevailed. So, the tournament results matched how things played out over the course of the season–Cristy first, me second, Espie third, and Billy fourth.

The players of the Stars Division: Jocelyn, Billy, me, Espie, Cristy, and Nancy. Congrats on a great season!

Padz was working at the tournament venue, Alley Cats, and was looking especially lovely in a sexy dress. I snuck this picture of her

Poor quality, but I couldn’t use the flash without revealing my creepy, stalking-like behavior.

But wait, it gets worse. I’d asked her earlier if she remembered those days in grade school when kids would pass notes to each other. She laughed and said yes. So, before I went to play my championship match with Cristy, I passed her a note like I would have as a kid. She never said anything, but as I was leaving the bar she came over to me and put something in my pocket. When I got outside I took it out and had a look:

OMG! Maybe there is hope, after all. Yeah, I’m pathetic. I know that.

Alright, enough of that. This morning’s internet trolling led me to an interesting article written by a person who retired in Mexico–“7 downsides of living in a beach town”. What I found interesting is they are the same kind of things I bitch about here in the Philippines, especially #2–the noise. Then I got to thinking “what do Mexico and the Philippines have in common? Well, how about centuries of Spanish colonization? Those bastards!

I also deemed it time to make a pot roast in the slow cooker. I had bought a brisket roast from my meat lady, and it was now defrosted and ready to go. I sliced it up and put it in the crockpot. Then I poured in some pepperoncini, mushrooms, corn, peas, tomato, and onions. Reached on the shelf for my seasoning mix, and wala (Tagalog for none), nothing for pot roast or beef stew. Damn, now what? It goes against my nature, but I went on the internet and found a recipe for making my own seasoning. I had most of the ingredients and made a couple of creative substitutions (Italian spice covers a wide range, right?) for the ones I didn’t. One difference was that this is a rub, not something I could just pour on as usual. Oh well, I pulled the meat slices up from the bottom and rubbed on my seasoning. I also put some in water and poured it in for old times sake.

Here’s how it looks so far. All the veggies are still on the bottom. I’ll let you know how it tastes tomorrow.

And finally, there’s this. I got one of those Facebook messages from a person I’ve never met in person. She was looking for work and asked if I needed a housekeeper. I told her I already had someone for that, but asked if she did massage. She told me she could and so I made arrangements to give her a try out today.

Here is a picture of Mari I lifted from her Facebook page.

I did as much due diligence as I could. We have several mutual friends on Facebook. I looked through some of her posts there and saw she had two children. When I met her today, she told me she had worked in Alaska Club previously.

She gave me an okay massage and then asked if I wanted anything else? Shit, is there more than one answer to that question when the person asking looks like the girl in that picture above? So yeah, I opted for the happy ending. It probably looked something like this:

It’s all a matter of perspective, I suppose.

She seemed satisfied with the compensation I provided (2500 pesos), at least she gave me a hug. Then I walked her out to the subdivision gate. I asked “how old are you anyway?” and guessed 22. She laughed and responded 19. Yikes! Legal but scary. Youngest I’ve been with since I was, well, 19. It’s a whole other world here, that’s for sure.

No go

Things don’t always go according to plan. Take our hike up to the falls outside of Olongapo for example. We had intended to all meet up in the Gordon Heights barangay, do a 2.2K hike up into the mountains from there, have a picnic lunch, then hike back down. I honestly had some reservations about this trip and considered backing out. Then I was reminded that the hike had been rescheduled, at least in part, to accommodate me (I have darts this afternoon). As it turned out, my concerns about doing a trail Guenter called “easy” were misplaced. I should have been concerned about COVID. Or more specifically, the idiots in charge of “protecting” me from a crazy virus that apparently targets hikers in the great outdoors. Who knew?

Our group of hardy hikers gathering near the scene of the “crime”.

I never did an actual headcount, but I reckon there were 15 or more of us. As we proceeded to march up the road we encountered some purok officials who were apparently overseeing a free rabies vaccination event (a purok is a neighborhood organization within the larger barangay, that is a section of the city). So, these purok folks asked where we were going and when we told them they responded “not allowed”. I’d say half the group just kept walking, the rest stayed back to see what the problem was. The problem at the base level was that these purok jerks love exercising authority that most thinking people are happy to just simply ignore. Had our group been the usual small number we might not have even been noticed, but now we needed to be made an example of to demonstrate to the local populace who is in charge. Or at least it seemed that way to me.

They were pretty pissed about the portion of the group who just kept on going, and a few minutes later a van with several barangay officials aboard showed up, presumably to chase them down. Guenter, who was our putative leader for this hike, tried to talk reason to them.

Guenter’s pleas for sanity and reasonableness could not be abided.

Eventually, it was decided to allow Guenter to make his case directly to the barangay Captain. So, he and his girlfriend/interpreter loaded up in the van, and off they went. Meanwhile, the group who had gone on ahead had decided to reverse course and return to see what was happening. Guenter returned about 20 minutes later and reported that the barangay Captain had agreed to let us depart for the falls, with the caveat that we could not return to (or through) Gordon Heights. He made it clear that us barangay Barretto folks were not welcome in his barangay. It was a classic Catch-22 situation, to avoid Gordon Heights would mean scaling a different mountain, and of course, abandoning our vehicles. A good portion of the group thought we should just ignore the barangay’s directive, do our hike as planned, and return where we pleased. That might have worked, but I wasn’t willing to chance it. The Bureau of Immigration has been making an example of foreigners who defy quarantine restrictions by deporting them and blacklisting them to prevent any future return. Just wasn’t worth it to me, and ultimately we all chose to do as we were told and depart Gordon Heights.

Before leaving, we discussed a Plan B that involved meeting in Naugsol and doing our picnic riverside. I was in a car with Scott and Dave and we picked up some ice and beer on the way. But when we reached the designated meeting location no one else was there. I learned later that Guenter’s group, who had hired a Jeepney, got turned back at another checkpoint in Santo Tomas, a barangay of Subic. At that point they just gave up the quest.

So, the five of us in Dave’s car did our own riverside luncheon. We were looking for a place with some shade, easy access to the river, and a place to park. We eventually found a location that offered all three, thanks to a kind local woman who rented us a lean-to for 150 pesos ($3.)

A place to sit with a roof over our heads….
…and a nice view of the river. What else do you need?
Lunch on the grill.

We had a pleasant enough lunch, then the beer ran out so it was time to go. On the way back to Barretto I got a message from Gary, a retired Navy guy with an FPO address, that my new debit card had arrived. We agreed to meet up at It Doesn’t Matter. It was a relief to have my replacement card, the one I have expires on Friday. That’s how I access all my cash here.

After a few more beers it was time for me to head on home. I’d missed my naptime and drank much more mid-day than normal. After taking a shower, I decided to spend my Friday evening at home. I fired up the grill and threw on some ribeyes:

Grilling while intoxicated is not a crime as far as I know. And the meal tasted better than it looks.

Being at home well before bedtime left me with a dilemma–how to fill the hours? I turned on my little-used television and watched season one episodes of The Addam’s Family on YouTube. I used to really enjoy that show back in the day, but I’ve got to say I found it really disappointing last night. Not that funny and the over-the-top acting was off-putting as well. Hell, even Morticia wasn’t as hot as I remember her. Needless to say, if I’m going to add TV to my routine, I’m going to need to find something better to watch.

I only got in 7,000 steps yesterday, so I pushed myself a little harder and longer this morning, doing a two hour walk up the highway towards the Navy base. I also explored a little more of this village that I’ve always found intriguing.

I did see a place for rent, but this village is too far from Barretto (about a 40-minute walk). And the only bar in town appears to be closed. It also appears that I’d be the only foreigner living here. Not ready for that adventure!

Oh yeah, my landlord called last night with some news. Now they want to raise the rent ten percent! I expressed my displeasure and he said he’d go back and see if the family would settle for five percent. I think it is time to move.

Alright, gonna be late for darts. I’ll give you the story of Singles League playoffs tomorrow!

One of those!

Floating irregularities

Yesterday I elected to vote with my feet, walking out to Baloy beach. When the resulting steps were tallied, I found myself installed aboard the Kokomo’s floating bar as the inaugural customer of the day.

Ouch, that was a pathetically strained attempt to make my attempted pun in the post title slightly more humorous. Sorry!

Anyway, I did make the journey to the floating bar for my weekly change of scenery. Pre-pandemic, there were three floaters to choose from, now it’s Kokomo’s or nothing. I do like spending some time out on the water though.

You ride this raft-like vessel to get out to the floating bar. The tide had risen, so the crew had to readjust the platform to allow my boarding without getting my feet wet.
My destination.
A view of Baloy from the floating bar.
Some sunlight on the water...

As I mentioned, I was the first and only customer. The gals seemed disappointed I didn’t bring any brownies with me. Well, I could see the staff was all pretty bored and being in a generous mood, I offered to buy dinner for everyone. That cheered them up! The food is delivered from Treasure Island’s kitchen, so I knew it would be good.

I was maybe just finishing my second (third?) beer when suddenly the girls behind the bar jumped up and ran out into the seating area. All the other gals gathered around then and spoke excitedly in Tagalog. It honestly appeared they were preparing to abandon ship. I asked what was going on and one girl said, “Fire!”. I had gotten up and was looking behind the bar but didn’t see any smoke or flames. Then the bartender said one of the electric circuits had blown. They called someone onshore and had the breaker switch for the floater turned off. So, there was no danger and also no power. Well, it was still daylight but I asked what was going to happen when the sun went down? They said they would likely just close early (normal closing time is 8 p.m.)

Solar power was still providing light after the electricity was turned off. I played some music on my phone.

Nothing else to do now but wait for my food order to be delivered. And in due course, it arrived.

That’s a pork dish called crispy pada on the left. Filipinas love it for some reason. It’s relatively expensive at 700 pesos ($14), but no big deal. Also got a plate of chicken wings and some shanghai lumpia. Everyone seemed pleased.
I guess a lack of leftovers is one indication that everyone enjoyed the meal. This is four of the seven gals on board.
And with the sun preparing to say goodnight, I knew it was time for me to depart.

A good afternoon out and made some folks happy, all for just under fifty bucks. It’s easy to live large here!

Once back onshore, I decided to stop into Johan’s, a place I haven’t had the occasion to visit recently. It was my favorite Hash On-Home venue back in the day. I chatted with the manager for a bit and she said she’d love to have us there again, but a large gathering would attract unwanted attention from the powers that be. I understand her concerns.

About thirty minutes after my arrival, the power went out. What a coincidence, eh? This time it was widespread (what they call a brown-out) and all of Baloy was in the dark. Well, the other hotels all fired up their generators, but no one present at Johan’s knew how to do so. So, I sat in the glow of the emergency lighting and had another beer. No point in leaving, the power company that serves Baloy also covers Alta Vista. I messaged my helper and confirmed my house was also in the dark. Power was restored about an hour later and I called it a night.

I’m doing this post in the morning because I’ll be heading out to Gordon Heights in Olongapo soon. We’re doing a hike up to some falls today and having a picnic lunch up there. Not sure I’ll get home in time to post prior to darts.

And there you have the latest adventure in my exciting (for me) life.

Coming ’round the mountain

A busy day yesterday, the highlight of which was the Wednesday Walkers group hike. More on that later.

The reason for the abbreviated post yesterday was simply a matter of time–I ran out of it. After the hike, we did our usual refreshment at Cheap Charlies. We departed after two beers because some workers started painting the bar. We are all like, seriously, you are gonna do that with customers inside? So, we voted with our feet and moved on up the street to Dynamite Dick’s. When we arrived, I almost left immediately because there didn’t appear to be enough outdoor seating available. The owner, Dick, told me not to be a wuss, and pull up a chair. They brought out a couple of more seats, and we all squeezed in.

Dynamite Dick’s is not one of my regular stops, but Dick is an interesting guy. An old Marine and Vietnam vet. Yes, he entertained us with some war stories, jokes, and memories from the days he was stationed in the Philippines. My favorite was when he and some of his mates were out drinking in an Olongapo tavern, and several British sailors wearing their dress white uniforms entered the bar. Dick said he went over to the DJ and had him play “The Battle of New Orleans”, a Johnny Horton ditty about the war of 1812. It’s a pretty funny song that I heard a lot growing up. It also mocks the Brits mercilessly, including this chorus: “well they ran through the briars, and they ran through the brambles, and they ran through the bushes where a rabbit couldn’t go. They ran so fast the hounds couldn’t catch ’em, on down the Mississippi to the Gulf of Mexico.” I guess the song had the desired effect because the British sailors all stood up in unison and the fight was on. Dick said their uniforms weren’t white when it was over.

It’s a good song, give it a listen if you haven’t heard it before.

I confess I’ve sung this song myself on some drunken nights for the entertainment of my British friends.

Dick is also famous for giving his customers free drinks, and yesterday was no exception. Of course, I felt the obligation to reciprocate, and that led me to stay at DD’s longer than I normally would, leaving the bar at 2:30. I also did something I very rarely do during daylight hours–I took a trike home. I figured I could take a quick one-hour nap, and still have time for a post here before heading out for darts. Alas, I didn’t wake up until 4:30. So, I did my nothing post and passed on the darts. Instead, I enjoyed some beers at It Doesn’t Matter, which was hopping. Glad to see their bar is already so popular. When I had my fill, I hiked over to The Pub for my regular Wednesday take-out meal.

Korean-style wings and kimchi. Yum!

So, that leaves the walking group hike. Scott was the leader this week so I was expecting an easy trail. We left from my house and he indicated we would be “walking around Easter mountain”. I took that to mean the usual backroads and trails, but no climbs. I was wrong about that. We did do an up and over what I’d call the rump of Easter mountain, not real long but very steep. The down on the other side was also quite steep. Made for a more challenging hike than I anticipated, but still enjoyable. Let’s go to the photos:

The route we took. There was a second climb…half our group went up and over Black Rock, the rest of us did a somewhat easier climb (all steps) instead.
We started our trek from my place in Alta Vista. Perhaps we are the “six white horses” the titular song refers to…
One of the guys in the neighborhood said this fire started on Tuesday and the fire department was called to contain it. It’s right outside Alta Vista and he said his house was covered in ashes blown up by the wind. I think it is kind of interesting how the fire never crossed the path.
Passing through the village of San Isidro…
Marching ever onward.
Cookie delivery…
Posers.
A mountain of a man or in the shadow of the mountain?
Let the climbing begin!
Our intended trail petered out, leaving the only option a steep path up…
…and so we took it.
Onward and upward!
A view of where we were…
The ass-side of Easter mountain.
Glad that fuckin’ climb is over. Let’s head down…
Oh shit!
Kudos to Marcus and Jim for lending us oldsters a helping hand when we needed one…
Back on the solid and relatively flat Govic Highway…
A tree loaded with bagged mangoes. What a job that must be!
Heading for Black Rock mountain…
Those of us who chose not to scale Black Rock climbed these steps instead…
In the ‘hood…
Cookie time!
Down we go…
A two-story shack. Must be rich! Comparatively.
Back on the National Highway…
9K after leaving my house finds us at Cheap Charlies. A home away from home. Such as it is.
And that concludes the hiking portion of this post.

A walk out to Baloy beach and some beers on the floating bar are in my immediate future. But before I go, let me share this:

I do know this. Notwithstanding all my bitching and moaning here at LTG. I’m living a good life and I’m lucky to have it. No, I don’t have everything I’d hoped for, but I’m happy for what I have. Finding love someday is just a dream. Even if it happens, I’ll still be responsible for my own happiness. Sometimes it is good to remind myself of that.
Call me crazy, but I like this…

And finally (no, I really mean it this time) there is this:

Maybe I’ve posted this before, but when I saw it again the other day it was a good reminder to be a more careful proofreader. I hope it is not early-onset dementia, but lately, I find myself using the wrong word even when I know the right one (like there and their). And don’t even get me started on my notorious comma misusage. Save me, Jesus!

No post at all…

or this? Assuming something is better than nothing, here we go.

Last night:

A first-place finish in the darts tourney. Had a good partner and threw well most of the night. Good enough to go undefeated anyway…

After darts, I hurried across the street where an acquaintance, Palm Tree manager Alan, was celebrating his 60th birthday.

Well, he wasn’t celebrating when I arrived. Final preparations were taking place for what turns out to have been a surprise party…
The lucky man and his lovely lass, Christine. Happy birthday, Alan!

And this pretty much sums up how I feel about COVID:

I’ll take my chances, thank you very much!

Sorry for the shittier than normal post. Things will be back to normal around here tomorrow. I promise!