Not that it matters much to me. Christmas doesn’t mean a lot without family and I’m far away from family. So tomorrow will pretty much be just another day I suppose. Well, I’ve got an invite to a party I’ll probably attend, so there’s that.
It’s interesting that this is the time of year when acquaintances (I’m talking about Filipinas here) contact you out of the blue with a hearty Christmas greeting. Followed with “where’s my gift?” At first, I thought it was a joke, but after seeing the behavior repeated numerous times I guess it is just a thing. And I’ve been here long enough now to reject such requests out of hand. Well, unless there’s some quid pro quo involved. One gal I kinda had a crush on when she worked at Cheap Charlies gave the gift solicitation greeting the other day. It had been months since I’d heard from her and there seemed to be some desperation and urgency in this request. She has two kids and no job so I imagine things are tough for her. So, instead of a gift, I offered her a part-time job. Nothing dirty, I’m honestly looking for a replacement for my departed masseuse. Of course, a willingness to provide “extra” services would earn extra pay, but that’s not required. I enjoy a regular massage just fine. Anyway, this gal rejected the offer out of hand. I guess things aren’t as desperate as they appear.
Mary, the 22-year old I met a while back but haven’t seen recently, has also been sending me messages wanting to “get together”. I resisted her entreaties because the few times I’d been with her previously were unsatisfying. Especially the last one. But last night after a few beers in a moment of weakness I messaged her that we could meet at 1 p.m. today. When I woke up this morning and saw she hadn’t responded, I breathed a sigh of relief and messaged her “nevermind”. I was surprised she took it so poorly (she told me she was crying) and reminded her that she had not bothered to confirm our appointment so I had made other plans. See? I’m getting better at this!
I guess my helpers are having some friends over tonight for some food and drinking. I’ll be making myself scarce for that event.
And that’s where things stand with me on this Christmas Eve. Here are some photos from yesterday’s hike you might enjoy (Scott took most of these):
The green line is from my house to where we met up with Scott. I think this is the first time I’ve shown y’all the birds-eye view of the My Bitch trail.Our Wednesday Walkers this week.One of our local Dao trees…not the monsters we saw last week on the old Navy base. But give ’em time…Views from up top…Mountain views…I’m guessing regular readers know the name of this one…Kids being kids…Heading back down to the valley…Slow and steady, Scott.One last look from up high.I broke out my new trekking pole and it worked just fine.It didn’t speed me up any though…Hey, I’ve got cookies to deliver!She’s one of my regulars and comes running to greet me whenever I’m in the area…Onward!Troy and his gal Jessa. Ain’t they sweet?And that’s it for this gnarly post!
My driver called yesterday morning to advise his wife had just died. We were scheduled to make our weekly shopping run and he offered to find someone to send in his place. I told him not to worry about me and wished him the best during this difficult time. Danny’s wife had been ill for quite some time, getting dialysis three times a week and growing weaker and weaker. She was suffering and had no quality of life so perhaps her passing is a blessing. I know Danny is devastated. His daughter lives in Florida and she was coming to see her mother on the 28th. Now she will be here for the funeral. That’s a shame. I recall when my mom was on her deathbed she thanked me for coming home to her. I’d just made it from Korea a few days earlier.
My life goes on though, such as it is. Hiking, darting, and drinking. My health seems to be withstanding that onslaught so far. And I guess my big news is that I have once again broken the 200-pound threshold! I still want to get under 195 before I start getting lazy diet-wise. Really all I’m doing is cutting back on carbs (mostly bread and sweets) and skipping the noontime meal.
I look nothing like I did 5 years ago although I still have a bigger belly than I’d prefer.
I have a singles league match this afternoon. The league seems to be going well thus far and I’m really seeing improvement in the darting skills of a lot of our players. That’s really the purpose of the league so we are off to a good start.
I’m ambivalent about the vaccine. I’ll take it if it makes my life more convenient, especially if it facilitates travel.I think I’ll have another beer!
Gotta run, those darts ain’t gonna throw themselves.
Yesterday’s Candy Run Hash was for all appearances quite a success. Especially if you measure success by the smiles on the faces of the children we encountered. I’ll let the photos do the talking:
Your humble Hares, Pubic Head, and Cum Together are joined by My Boyfriend Sucks Dick for this photo op.Our urban trail was only 4K in deference to Santa’s advanced years.Hashers gathering at our meetup location.Santa to his helper: “sit on my lap and we’ll talk about the first thing that pops up”. To which the helper responded: “that’s not a very big subject!”A group photo of the 39 Hashers in attendance.And we are On-On!Making our way through the sometimes narrow streets of Barretto…Her Hash name is Fuck My Ass. I always ask her what her name is and when she tells me I say “maybe later”. It is a sweet ass though!Don’t worry, we got your back, Santa.Candy is dandy!For the naughty girls on Santa’s list, I suppose…No child left behind…Everybody loves Santa.Gathering for another group shot about halfway through our trek.A sweet success.Santa is coming!Let’s see those smiles!Something for everyone it seems.I thought there was no way I’d run out of goodies but here at the end, I was in rationing mode. Luckily I could tell the kids, Santa has candy!I guess the highlight of the Hash circle was recognizing three birthdays in the Hash tradition. Congrats to Pubic Head, Demolition Derby, and Blow My Pipe.Afterward, some of us gravitated over to Beach Please, arriving in time for sunset…And then the sun came up this morning. The circle remains unbroken.
Merry Christmas from the Subic Bay Hash House Harriers!
Quite the adventure on Friday’s hike. The decision was made to motor out to SBMA (the old Navy base) and hike down to the falls. I’d never been in this area and it is mostly undeveloped and little used. The terrain was very jungle-like and overgrown. There were some HUGE trees, the likes of which I hadn’t seen since visiting Sequoia National Park many years ago. The hiking trails were not in good condition, in many places fallen trees had blocked the path. This required us to either climb over or find a way around, both of which proved easier said than done.
Anyway, the first half of the hike to the falls was quite enjoyable. I always like getting out and seeing new places. The return portion though proved to be a nightmare. Lots of ups and downs, sometimes it felt like we were going in circles. The trail was covered with low-laying vines which tended to get wrapped around your feet and trip you up. That phenomenon was exacerbated as I grew increasingly tired and started dragging my feet with more frequency. Our leaders (i.e. the guys ahead of me on trail, which is pretty much everyone) assured me we were almost there and that this was the last hill. So, I was ready to be done and pushing myself to finish with my dignity intact.
Oh, I didn’t mention the ants, did I? So, we are hiking along and one of the guys in front of me shouts “watch out for the ants!” And right at that moment, I feel several stings on my legs. I reached down to brush them off and got a bite on my hand as well. Damn, I’d never seen ants like these before. Big black ones. There are lots of red ants in the woods here and they’ll give you a good pinch now and then, but nothing like what those black bastards delivered. More like a bee sting. Hurt like hell for a few minutes but no swelling or other residual effects. Hopefully, that ant encounter will remain a once in a lifetime experience.
Apparently, the trail we were taking had been done on a Hash back in 2014. Lots had changed since then I guess. The guys who had been on that run didn’t see much that seemed familiar. And then somehow we lost the trail. It just disappeared into the underbrush I guess (again, I was following so I’m not sure of the hows or whens). We weren’t lost-lost, GPS told us the cars were parked at the top of the hill, less than a kilometer away. And so the decision was made to blaze our way to the top without the benefit of a trail. In retrospect, perhaps that wasn’t the best idea. The brush was heavy and dense. The vines and roots were especially difficult to traverse. To make matters worse, there was a fern-like plant covered in sharp thistles and thorns that would grab a hold of you and not want to let go. I received a lot of new scratches all over my legs from those bastards. Periodically we’d hit a stand of think bamboo with wall-like qualities that forced a retreat and go-around. And just when it seemed the nightmare couldn’t get any worse, it did.
The already steep climb became a cliff face. It appeared to be 10-12 feet high almost straight up. A couple of the guys started climbing up but I knew I didn’t have the upper body strength pulling myself up would require. I was dreading the thought of turning around and going back down through the sticker field, but there was no way I was going to attempt a climb like the one in front of me. Fortunately, one of the guys found a spot where we could climb up diagonally. It was not easy by any means, but it was at least doable.
And then finally we were at the top and made our way to the vehicles without further incident. Stopped into Vasco’s on base for lunch and beers then headed for home. I’d left the house at 0830 and it was almost 3 p.m. when I returned. A LONG hard day for this old man!
I’ve got some photos for you:
A God’s eye view of our hike. It didn’t feel like God was with us though. That squiggly line on the right-hand side was our freelance climb up the final hill. Makes me tired and sore just looking at it.Our group of hikers for the day, sans Scott who is behind the camera.The first portion of the hike was on pavement. That was nice…As usual, I’m bringing up the rear.This part of SBMA is mostly undeveloped. You can still see vestiges of the old Navy days, like these Quonset huts.I thought this gigantic dead tree standing was interesting enough to warrant a photo. Little did I know that dead trees falling would be our bane.To the falls we go!Norman, a retired Marine who lives on SBMA, joined us for the hike. He proved to be a big help lending me a hand when needed to overcome some of the terrain-related obstacles.Usually, when we hike we are on well-trod paths. Not so on this one. Made things a lot more difficult.Getting over one of those fallen trees I mentioned earlier. There were several.You think this tree is big? You ain’t seen nothin’ yet!Norman helping the old guy out…We made it to the falls, such as they were. Was it worth it, Scott?So now what do we do, Troy?We’ll find our way back. What could go wrong?Now THAT’S a tree!It actually had a tunnel going through the trunk. Not sure if that was a natural phenomenon or not.Those are some big ass roots! That’s Norman coming through the tunnel.
I didn’t get any shots of the nasty trail-less climb. I needed both hands and all my focus to survive. Sadly, my new trekking pole could not withstand the abuse it endured.
Rest in Peace.Recuperating after the ordeal at Vasco’s.And so concludes this jungle post.
Time to get ready for today’s Candy Run Hash.
This is what I’m bringing to share with the kiddles.
We’ve got a nice mostly flat 4K trail we’ll walk and distribute our goodies. Looking forward to the smiles.
Wow, the landscape in this music video looks eerily similar to what it looked like on my hike.
Sorry for the sporadic posting here of late. Despite my best intentions, my normal schedule has been a bit disrupted. Unfortunately, the blog has borne the brunt of my bad timing failures. I promised a post on Friday’s jungle hike and it’s coming. Tomorrow I hope.
So if I’ve been so busy that I can’t write about life’s intrusions it must be some pretty interesting stuff, right? Well, I’ll let you be the judge of that.
Friday’s hike was long and hard. Once I got home I only had time for a quick nap, a shower, then off to the darts tourney. Finished third.
Saturday morning I walked the trail we are planning for Monday’s Hash (I’m co-Hare for that). When I got home I did a post here about some things that have been on my mind other than the usual walking and drinking shit I write about.
And I used my leftover burrito ingredients to make myself a nacho lunch.
Then I had to prepare myself for an afternoon birthday party here in the neighborhood. By the time I got home, I was in no condition to write anything here.
Here are a few photos from the party:
Heidi’s house is one of the nicest in the neighborhood. We did the party up on the open-air third floor which is set up like a bar/resto.Ricky, the birthday boy. Well, he turned 50 so boy might be an overstatement.Amazing views from the deck.I’m no snob but I found myself looking down on the pool.The gals in attendance…And some of us menfolk.Our hosts grilled up some chicken…Pasta and other sides…What’s in the box?You guessed it–Lechon!
The food was all great, the company and banter were fun, and I wound up having a really nice time. I guess the takeaway feeling I had was a sense of belonging. I feel at home here now. This is my life and I mostly like it.
This morning I woke up a little bit later than usual, walked the dogs, then headed out for a quick breakfast at Jewel Cafe.
I opted for a club sandwich. Hey, it had egg on it so that qualifies as breakfast, right?
After I ate, I met up with my co-Hare, Pubic Head, and we marked our trail for tomorrow’s Hash. This is our annual Candy Run and we’ll be walking the streets of Barretto handing out sweets to the kiddies. And yes, Santa has confirmed he will be joining us for the hike!
Got home, took a nap, showered up, and rushed over to Alley Cats for my Barretto Singles League dart match.
The games were a lot closer than the score would indicate. I was pleased though to have thrown some pretty consistently good darts.
On the way home after the match, I popped into The Pub restaurant and ordered me up some Korean style chicken wings to go. Had a beer and a nice chat with the owner, John Kim.
The wings aren’t technically on the menu, you have to ask for them. John says he tries to update the menu every couple of months based on what’s popular. I’m going to have to ask for some bulgogi next time I think.Chicken and broccoli, how can you go wrong with that?
So that’s what’s been intruding on my blogging time. I appreciate your indulgence. I’m going to do my best to get the jungle post done in the morning before the Hash.
That’s my life. And upon reflection, it’s good. Not all good and not all the time, but better than I might have hoped for. Or perhaps deserved. So, what triggered my bout of self-analysis to reach these not so profound conclusions? I blame the internet. Here’s what happened:
A question was posed on Quora: “What is something you wish you had known sooner?” And this was the featured answer:
I’m 77. I created four successful businesses, married two beautiful women (one at a time) have two great sons, and retired at 49. My life has been full. And it really doesn’t matter – none of it. I wish I’d known that in the beginning – that it all wouldn’t matter. I beat myself up most of my life trying to accomplish success and I could have had a much easier time of it. I was chasing someone else’s dream, not mine. No 14 hour days, six days out of the week. No heart attacks. No ulcers. No enemies. I could have learned the piano, painted, sculpted, read more books, learned to dance the salsa, had more dogs. At the end of life, and mine is just around the corner, the important stuff is the stuff I didn’t have time for. I can’t speak for all wealthy people, but the ones I know are pretty damn empty. We come into the world naked and we leave pretty much the same way – and there are no “Mulligans”. If you don’t get it right the first time, too bad for you. I’m too old to climb the mountains I always wanted to climb, too old to buy a dog, too old to learn to surf, too old to learn the piano. All the good stuff is behind me. Don’t get stuck in a life that isn’t yours.
Damn. Well, I’m happy to report that I don’t feel that way about my life. I don’t know that I ever really had much of a plan–I just went with the flow and it led me to this here and now. At 65 I may still have a few adventures ahead of me but I don’t expect there will be any life-changing events in store. It is what it is and I’m content to ride it out to its natural conclusion. Granted, I’m in no hurry to get to the end of days but you never know what’s left. I’m certainly not going to waste time wishing for something else.
Okay, maybe that’s not entirely true. Sometimes when I am trying to ease myself into sleep mode I’ll engage in some fantasizing. No, not THAT kind, I can always pay to make those come true! I mean the fantasy of going back in time, knowing what I know now, and reliving my life accordingly. I usually imagine returning to various decision points in the past and deciding to do something different. For example, in my do-over life perhaps I’d enlist in the Army after high school. That’s something I never even considered at the time seeing as how I’d just managed to avoid being drafted. But who knows where that might have led me? One thing is for sure, in all these fantasies I end up rich beyond imagination–I’m buying all those IPO tech stocks like Microsoft, Google, and Apple!
So, while I’m in this mode of thinking about altering the past I happen upon an article in The New Yorker“What If You Could Do It All Over?”. Hmm, it seems my fantasy is actually quite popular!
“The thought that I might have become someone else is so bland that dwelling on it sometimes seems fatuous,” the literary scholar Andrew H. Miller writes, in “On Not Being Someone Else: Tales of Our Unled Lives” (Harvard). Still, phrased the right way, the thought has an insistent, uncanny magnetism. Miller’s book is, among other things, a compendium of expressions of wonder over what might have been. Miller quotes Clifford Geertz, who, in “The Interpretation of Cultures,” wrote that “one of the most significant facts about us may finally be that we all begin with the natural equipment to live a thousand kinds of life but end in the end having lived only one.” He cites the critic William Empson: “There is more in the child than any man has been able to keep.” We have unlived lives for all sorts of reasons: because we make choices; because society constrains us; because events force our hand; most of all, because we are singular individuals, becoming more so with time. “While growth realizes, it narrows,” Miller writes. “Plural possibilities simmer down.” This is painful, but it’s an odd kind of pain—hypothetical, paradoxical. Even as we regret who we haven’t become, we value who we are. We seem to find meaning in what’s never happened. Our self-portraits use a lot of negative space…
We may imagine specific unlived lives for ourselves, as artists, or teachers, or tech bros; I have a lawyer friend whose alternate self owns a bar in Red Hook. Or we may just be drawn to possibility itself, as in the poem “The Road Not Taken”: when Robert Frost tells us that choosing one path over the other made “all the difference,” it doesn’t matter what the difference is. Carl Dennis’s poem “The God Who Loves You” tries to make that difference concrete. Dennis poses a question to his protagonist, a middle-aged real-estate agent: “What would have happened / Had you gone to your second choice for college”? A different roommate, a different spouse, a different job: could it all have added up to “a life thirty points above the life you’re living / On any scale of satisfaction”? Only “the god who loves you” knows for sure. It’s an unsettling thought; Dennis suggests that we pity that all-knowing god, “pacing his cloudy bedroom, harassed by alternatives / You’re spared by ignorance.”
Swept up in our real lives, we quickly forget about the unreal ones. Still, there will be moments when, for good or for ill, we feel confronted by our unrealized possibilities; they may even, through their persistence, shape us. Practitioners of mindfulness tell us that we should look away, returning our gaze to the actual, the here and now. But we might have the opposite impulse, as Miller does. He wants us to wander in the hall of mirrors—to let our imagined selves “linger longer and say more.” What can our unreal selves say about our real ones?
Their mere presence in our minds may reveal something about how we live: “Unled lives are a largely modern preoccupation,” Miller writes. It used to be that, for the most part, people lived the life their parents had, or the one that the fates decreed. Today, we try to chart our own courses. The difference is reflected in the stories we tell ourselves. In the Iliad, Achilles chooses between two clearly defined fates, designed by the gods and foretold in advance: he can either fight and die at Troy or live a long, boring life. (In the end, he chooses to fight.) But the world in which we live isn’t so neatly organized. Achilles didn’t have to wonder if he should have been pre-med or pre-law; we make such decisions knowing that they might shape our lives…
Sorry for the long excerpt, but I found the article quite fascinating. Give it a read if you are so inclined.
This got me thinking about those crossroads and decision points I’ve encountered in my own life. The big ones that changed everything like deciding NOT to give my firstborn up for adoption or leaving my Amerian life and making the move to Korea. And the subtle ones, like walking into a bar in Flagstaff, Arizona, that put me on the road to where I am today. Would I change those decisions knowing what I know now? How could I? It would mean losing all that makes me who and what I am. I’ve come up with a workaround in my fantasies to avoid that pitfall; I basically create an alternate universe and my “real” life in this one is unaffected by any changes I pursue in the new universe. Yeah, I have WAY too much time on my hands, don’t I?
So much for looking back, let’s move on to learning. Obviously, I’m an old dog so what new tricks are out there for me to learn? But once again, the internet is here to save the day. Thanks to Althouse I learned a little about Saint Peter Damian, someone I had heretofore never heard of:
“[H]e introduced a more-severe discipline, including the practice of flagellation… Another innovation was that of the daily siesta… Peter often condemned philosophy. He claimed that the first grammarian was the Devil, who taught Adam to decline deus in the plural. He argued that monks should not have to study philosophy, because Jesus did not choose philosophers as disciples, and so philosophy is not necessary for salvation.”
My big takeaway from the above was that Satan was the first grammarian. Which is why we say “the devil is in the details”, right Kevin Kim?
Doing the devil’s work they are!
That’s enough learning for one day I think. So that leaves living.
And without sustenance, life is not possible. I ordered a chicken salad at Palm Tree and it came out looking like this. Pretty shocking, right? But even though I’d never seen a salad drawn and quartered like that, it proved to be quite tasty. I was also impressed that they served it with a whole bottle of ranch dressing instead of the tiny cups I’m used to. Living large sometimes includes dining at home. It had been a while since I made up a batch of burritos. I’m not one to brag, but damn, they were tasty!
Living a healthy life means taking appropriate steps to avoid viral diseases.
I’m by no means an anti-vaxxer, but I have some questions about this one. The kill rate of COVID is so minuscule that I fear the vaccine may be more deadly. Still, I’ll get the damn shot if it restores my freedom to travel.
Speaking of COVID, where did that killer virus originate?
Bought and paid for. And yes, politics are part of life although I’m trying very hard to make their part in mine as small as possible.Yeah, throughout my life the most meaningful moments have been the people I’ve met along the way.
And despite the inevitable ups and downs that come with living, you’ve got to keep your sense of humor and have some laughs. Luckily, I’m a very punny guy!
Don’t worry, be happy!
So, there you have it. Living, learning, and looking back. A philosophy for a lifetime.
At least until the end of days.
Alright, I’ve got that out of my system. We’ll get back to normal around here tomorrow with a report of yesterday’s crazy hike in the jungle. It was a path I should not have taken.
Two roads diverged in a yellow wood, And sorry I could not travel both And be one traveler, long I stood And looked down one as far as I could To where it bent in the undergrowth;
Then took the other, as just as fair, And having perhaps the better claim, Because it was grassy and wanted wear; Though as for that the passing there Had worn them really about the same,
And both that morning equally lay In leaves no step had trodden black. Oh, I kept the first for another day! Yet knowing how way leads on to way, I doubted if I should ever come back.
I shall be telling this with a sigh Somewhere ages and ages hence: Two roads diverged in a wood, and I— I took the one less traveled by, And that has made all the difference.
Thursday is one of my solitary walking days and I usually try to step it up so to speak and make it a long one. Well, long being a relative term. I’m no Kevin Kim after all.
Anyway, to change it up a little and make it a bit more interesting (for me at least) I decided that I would take a photo in 1000 step increments. Whatever I happened to see wherever I happened to be when I hit that marker. Not really difficult as depending on terrain I am pretty consistent in walking 1000 steps every ten minutes. So, it was just a matter of glancing at my watch and checking my Fitbit, then pulling out the phone and snapping a picture. Here’s how it turned out:
Yeah, I’m usually an 8K kinda guy. No mountains to climb today though made it easier to put in some extra distance. Anyway, it was kinda fun to anticipate where I’d be when it was time for the next photo op.
Best of all, I remembered how to get home!
I can’t remember where I heard that before.
Anyway, that’s about it from here. Oh, I don’t think I mentioned that I sold my first pot of chili. The Hasher (Preying Mantis) that always gets takeout for her husband when I make a batch for the Hash asked if I’d make a pot of chili for them. Turns out they live on a sailboat and are going to be taking a cruise this week. I guess my chili is going along to provide nourishment on the trip. I only charged her the 500 pesos it cost me for the ingredients but it’s kinda cool having people willing to pay for anything I cook.
That’s Preying Mantis kneeling in white on the right. She’s gotta be close to six feet tall. I find her quite attractive for a married woman. Alas, she only loves my chili!
See, I found an opportunity to share a gratuitous photo of the female Hashers (Gash) at their Christmas party. You’re welcome.
One of my old smartass putdowns when arguing was that “I’ve forgotten more than you’ll ever know”. I fear that it may actually be coming true, at least the forgetting part. It goes beyond mere absent-mindedness; today I walked out for my hike and forgot to put on my hat. To make that failure even worse, I had gone upstairs earlier for the specific purpose of getting the ballcap I’d forgotten earlier. Took a pee and forgot the hat again.
But what really bothers me is the parts of my life that are just fading away. Last night laying in bed and waiting for sleep to overtake me I started thinking back to my youth on Milton Avenue in Westminster, California. Heh, I remember my address (13892) but what about the friends I grew up with? I remembered some of them, like Rod McClanahan and Darrol McCue who lived on my street. There were other buddies too that I can vaguely recall but some have fallen into a black hole. I remember I drove a friend’s sports car through a brick wall. Yeah, I was high or drunk. Or both.
The car looked like this before the accident. I remember it was a Triumph TR4 but I don’t remember the owner’s name.
There were a lot of empty spots like that in my memory and I found it disconcerting. So it was rather surprising when I got a message from my high school buddy Rod Headlee this morning:
Do you remember who the members of the Ringwraiths softball team were the year we won the championship game two to one?
Are you kidding me? That would have been 1974 and I honestly hadn’t thought of those guys since the turn of the century. [UPDATE: 2010 anyway] Coincidentally, some of the names would have been the same ones I couldn’t remember from the night before. I remembered playing softball of course and our team name but had no recollection of our championship season.
Now, Rod and I are Facebook friends. But his message this morning was the first time I’d heard from him in three years. Last time I saw Rod and his wife Pat was back on New Year’s Day in 2012 on his sailboat in North Carolina. Yep, they live on the boat most of the time and travel the world from their West Coast base. Not bad for a guy who’s a couple of years older than me. Anyway, his message today out of the blue took me aback. And after I confessed I couldn’t really remember more than a couple of the players, I asked how he was doing. He responded that he had some plumbing to do and would get back to me later. Maybe another three years?
And as if to underscore the point I’m attempting to make with this post (and which I might have forgotten by now) I did a quick search of my blog archives and found this post from 2010 featuring this photograph:
No, I didn’t remember ever posting about the Ringwraiths until now. But this has triggered some memories. Back row: #66 is Jim Meehan, #13 is Rod Headlee, #6 is Larry Raemakers. Front row: #12 Paul Martin, next to him Dutch something or other, Chuck Martin, don’t recall #24, #35 is Doug Price and #22 is my brother Keith.Oh, and that handsome #7 looks awfully familiar…
So, I don’t know whether I should feel good about remembering some more names after seeing the photo or not. The “Dutch” guy was my pot supplier and my first wife’s ex-boyfriend. It’s scary to me though that I don’t recall my old post or the fact that we were league champions.
Rod also reminded me that we attended a massive outdoor rock concert that year called California Jam.
I don’t really remember this either. But in my defense, I was very likely stoned out of my mind at the time.
Oh well, this has been an interesting trip (and fall) down memory lane. At least for me. I forgot I’m writing for an audience that probably gave up on this post after the first paragraph. If you are still here, thank you for your indulgence!
As bad as I may be, at least I’m not China’s bitch.
Or puppet as it were.
Now if I could only figure out how to lose the bad memories.
I didn’t, I took the short cut. One climb on yesterday’s Hash was enough for me and my tired lungs. I felt a little bad about it though because I had a passel of newbies following me and when I pointed out the trail leading up the mountain and encouraged them to go forward they all declined and played it safe with me. So, we had a flat but boring highway walk to the On-Home at Hunter’s Jo Inn. Here are some photos from my abbreviated hike:
And we are On-On! I wasn’t necessarily born to follow but I do recognize the benefits of being, um, behind.Across the rice paddy. I like how one gal is looking left and the other right. But there ain’t no dry way around it…Another way to look at it.Hello, my friend.Leading the group through what turned out to be our only climb of the day.Through a mango grove…Country road, take me On-Home…A message from the Hare…Youngun’s frolicking.Through the narrow streets of a village…Over a bridge……and over another.Back On-Home and Snap-On Jarhead demonstrates how to quench a thirst…This is why you don’t wear new shoes to the Hash…We initiated two new virgins into the kennel…And celebrated a birthday in the Hash traditional manner…I had a craving for some French food, so after the Hash, I enjoyed a ham and cheese croissant at Sit-n-BullAfter eating, I joined up with a group of Hashers hanging out on the rooftop at BarCelona.The Gash were out in force as well…Now, this was kind of a surprise…the woman on the right is a Hasher named Black and Dick Her. That’s her daughter on the left who was our waitress at BarCelona.
And so ended another Hash Monday. Next week, I’ll be a Hare along with Pubic Head for the annual Candy Run. We are plotting a 4-5K stroll through the streets of Barretto handing out candy (and cookies!) to the kids. Rumor has it that Santa Claus himself may be joining in on the fun!
This post was a little rough around the edges but I hope you enjoyed it anyway.
A quick report on the birthday celebration I had the pleasure to attend yesterday, then I’m off to another Hash Monday.
A pleasant and uneventful trip out to San Antonio. It’s actually a pretty small town, nice enough I suppose but I think I’d be bored there. Close to the beaches but not conveniently close. Anyway, it’s where our host has chosen to live and my oh my, he is living large. One of the biggest houses I’ve visited and quite luxurious. Just him and the wife so I guess they have the room to avoid each other should they ever feel the need.
Anyway, the party was quite nice with plenty of food, snacks, sweets, and of course, beer. Lechon, a traditional Filipino favorite, was the featured meat selection. Plenty of other tasty side dishes for any Muslims in attendance. There appeared to be fifty or so people gathered but the only ones I knew were the host and the folks I brought with me. After a couple of hours, the karaoke machine was fired up and I was compelled to do my traditional rendition of “I started a joke”. I received a polite round of applause when I finished but perhaps significantly, was not asked to do an encore performance. Suits me!
Here are some photos:
Lechon is a roasted pig.Smile for the camera! Thanks for giving us your all…I got excited when I saw this fruit salad. Alas, it was made with cool whip, not sour cream. Plus, it was still frozen.Gary honors the birthday girl and recognizes Jim who was also celebrating a birthday yesterday.Some of the guests sitting under the HUGE pavilion in Gary’s backyard.The pool was popular with the kids…Scott was behaving himself. No really, he was!The Blessed Virgin Mother kept watch over us all from her perch in the yard.Let them eat cake!Hanging out and drinking beer. Does it get any better than that?Another view of the pool.
A good afternoon of something a little different. It was fun.
I came across another Charles Bukowski quote this morning:
I’m just Biden my time.Perhaps this is an example of what Bukowski was talking about…
Anyway, I’ve got other things I can think about. Like how fucked up will the trail be this week. Stay tuned!
A morning post today necessitated by my taking a trip out to San Antonio in a bit. No, not the one in Texas, the original one right here in Zambales.
This should help you get your bearings. It’s about a 45-minute drive from Barretto.
And why am I making this journey? Because I got invited to a birthday party. For someone I’ve never even met.
I’m told that’s her upfront on the left. Turning 30. Has a boyfriend. Oh well.
Gary (Flaming Asshole), a fellow Hasher, extended the invite to the event being held at his residence. Several of us are coming out from Barretto to crash the party. I’m sure we’ll find a way to make it fun. Or get drunk trying! No worries, I’m having my driver take us so we won’t be breaking any laws. Full report tomorrow.
Last night saw me take third place at the darts tourney. A little disappointing in that my partner is one of the top players here but we both just couldn’t put it together for some reason. Well, that’s darts I suppose.
After darts, I popped into Mango’s. Was quite surprised at my reception after having been gone a week. The manager greeted me at the door and said she had been concerned about me. The bartender/waitress was practically ecstatic that I was back. Ah, nothing like a hero’s welcome to make you feel special. I ordered up my favorite dish–grilled pork chops. After eating, the cook came out to say hello too. I complimented the meal and said his chops were much better than the ones I got next door at Palm Tree. Oops, let the cat out of the bag. Oh well. Actually, I did tell the manager that the view had been the draw for me and the floating island had destroyed that. Nothing she can do about it of course.
Ah, that tasty goodness!
Woke up to another fine morning.
A nice way to start the day.Took my morning walk along Baloy beach.
Now it’s time to shower up and get ready for my journey. Let me leave you with a bit of political talk concerning our incoming President, aka China’s bitch.
Funny how that works.If Time magazine were honest. Heh, that’s like saying if your aunt had balls she’d be your uncle. Hmm, my dad used to say that but I guess given that women can have balls these day it hasn’t aged well. Never mind.
Alright, that’s enough of this nonsense. Thanks for dropping by!
I may be your destiny, but you are not my meant to be.
A Filipina’s words upon meeting me for the first time.
That was a pretty sweet rejection though. Painfully honest, but sweet. And life goes on.
A second-place finish in the darts tournament last night. The champions were far superior to me and my partner talent-wise, so I actually felt pretty good about them being the only team to beat us. Which they did twice. Like a drum.
I was feeling hungry after darts so I popped into a place called The Pub for some takeout. I’m not sure why I don’t come here more often, the food has always been quite good on my previous visits. Well, I guess it is because they don’t have outside seating as I prefer and they are not vape friendly indoors. It’s owned by a guy named John Kim, a Korean-American. The menu is varied but has a few Korean style dishes. I’d been jonesing for that crispy fried chicken I used to eat in Seoul, especially after a night out drinking.
I wasn’t disappointed. Yum!
In other news, I received my first ever Facebook fact check. Such an honor!
Missing Context The same information was checked in another post by independent fact-checkers. See Why
I mean, it is an actual Biden quote, but the “fact-checkers” say it was taken out of context and that he didn’t really have a fraud organization. Yeah, I get it and I understand it was the dementia talking. I honestly don’t care, I just wanted to keep the Facebook goons busy. Mission accomplished!
I also saw this on Facebook and I thought it sums up the current situation in the USA quite nicely:
Nope. Time for a big dose of your own medicine.
And then Facebook gave me a big kick in the nuts with today’s memories.
Back in 2012, this was my South Carolina life with Jee Yeun. I thought it would never end, at least until I did.
Oh well. All things must pass I suppose.
How about some photos from yesterday’s hike? We set out to do the portion of Monday’s Hash trail we didn’t do on Monday. Unfortunately, I didn’t make it to the end with the rest of the guys. Having some lung issues lately and the uphills are more difficult than ever. I just ran out of gas and didn’t have another climb left in me. Here’s the part I did manage: (credit to Scott for most of these)
That’s me arriving at our Barretto High School meetup location.My hiking compadres for the day–Scott, Dan, Jim, and Troy.Hung out to dry.“Daddy, are they crazy?” Why yes, yes they are!Up what seemed to be an endless flight of stairs…Too late to turn back now.And then the steps turned to bags. Upward and onward!Still going up but I like it better than the stairs…Mountain living. I really don’t know how they do it.Slowly but surely.A brief respite before the final push to the top.Up we go.I think I can, I think I can…Water view.And of course, Easter mountain. Monday’s run was #1422. And so concludes another hiking post.
Bullshit! If I didn’t look back, what would I have to blog about?
Take yesterday for instance. Pretty ordinary as days go in my so-called life. Well, I did do something for the first time ever.
Baby back ribs in the crockpot ready for their slow journey to goodness.
Yeah, yeah. I’ve done ribs that way lots of times. And I usually make cornbread to go along with them. But this time I added a new ingredient to the cornbread for the first time in my life. I honestly believe I’ve never actually eaten cornbread made this way although I gather it is not unusual. So what I did was I dumped a can of whole kernel corn into the mix, after draining of course.
It didn’t make much difference in appearance after baking. I guess those little craters are a bit unusual. The texture was definitely different though. Chewier is the best description I can think of. They tasted fine but truthfully I didn’t think the corn added much to the overall flavor. I also added some honey for sweetness enhancement, but I’ve done that before.Dinner is served.
The other thing that differentiated yesterday from most days was that I made a rare trip to the mall. It’s always a bit of a pain in the ass but with these pandemic bullshit measures in place, I’d rather not be bothered. Still, sometimes necessity calls for action. I had broken my eyeglass frames the other day and my backup pair had rendered me nearly blind as some cloud-like substances had formed on the lenses and couldn’t be cleaned off. The optometrist said it was the coating that had deteriorated. My old frames couldn’t be repaired either.
New glasses were in my future and my future was now. I picked out some frames and sat for the examination. Turns out my old prescription still gives me 20/20 vision, although I’m ready to give 2021 a try. I did ask if the lenses from my broken glasses could be salvaged and was very happy that a pair of frames that fit the lens was available. Man, what a difference it made putting on spectacles that actually corrected my vision again. A good thing too because my new pair won’t be ready for at least a week.
Oh, and another pleasant surprise was that I didn’t need to wear my face shield or fill out the contact tracing paperwork to enter the mall! It pisses me off that Royal still requires that when I go grocery shopping. I guess I’ll call it progress though.
I’ll take care of my health, you take care of yours. Thank you very much.
This morning I walked past the local high school and this signage caught my eye for some reason.
I think they must have been trying too hard to make this idea work. How exactly do you advocate time? I do agree that students and teachers should strive to remain conscious though. Makes learning so much easier!
Anyway, I’ll let that piece of work speak for itself as a commentary on the quality of public education here in the PI.
Speaking of high school, back in my youth I had visions of perhaps making journalism my career. I chose a life of government service instead, although I guess now you can’t differentiate between the two as the press has gone all-in to support the deep state. These days I spend my time inflicting pain via kickass puns. I guess you might say I’m a pun dent. Ouch!
Okay, now this is actually funny. At least to us old-timers.
I reckon we’ve looked back enough for one day. I’ve got a dart tourney to attend to now.
A nice hike yesterday with Scott and Dan. We took a new (for me) way up to Kalaklan ridge (the big mountain) and then meandered around up top before making our way back down by the Great Wall.
The hike up was moderately difficult but long. The weather was comfortable and clear but I still worked up a sopping sweat. Encountered some friendly locals on our journey and found some new smiling faces to be cookie recipients. Does it get any better than that? I’ll post the photos and you decide. (Credit to Scott for a lot of these)
The route we took…As we made our way up the highway we encountered some friends coming from the opposite direction. Kismet indeed! (I just looked up the definition of kismet and I’m probably using it wrong in this context. It wasn’t destiny, but a nice happenstance.)I hope so!The climb begins…You can do it, Scott!Dan getting his rocks on…Scott’s between a rock and a hard place.I’ve got this!Some friendly folks along the way…I didn’t ask but it appears this may be four generations of a family.I crossed this bridge to get to the other side.Dan showing us the way.Are you shitting me, Scott?Yeah, I can bitch and moan about the climb but at least I wasn’t carrying a load of water on my shoulders…Rural living defined. The only access is by foot.Finally at the top. Oh, are you waiting for me?No, a fence. Intended.Horsing around.Mountain kids like cookies too! A panoramic shot from Scott’s camera…Barrio Barretto, Olongapo City, Zambales Province, Luzon Island, Republic of the Philippines.Another view from on high.I will not be cowed!Easter mountain was far away but with the camera zoom maxed she seemed as close as ever.Excuse me, you two are blocking the view.Scott traversing the Great Wall of Barretto.Heading back down, just under the wire.About halfway down we met another friendly mountain family.It must be a hard life, but they seemed like happy folk. What else are you gonna do I suppose.Nice to meet you!A little further down the mountain, we saw an old fashioned bath in a bucket.I know it’s a long post I hope you enjoyed it!
See y’all tomorrow! Well, I won’t see you, but you know what I mean.
Luckily I have some photographs to document the interesting moments that took place. Such as they were.
I played darts in the Alley Cats tourney and drew a strong partner, Billy. We faced off against Cristy and Nancy in the first round. Now, Cristy is probably the best player in Barretto right now and Nancy is a good player, although she can be a tad inconsistent. They royally kicked our ass and sent us to the loser’s bracket. I figured maybe we’d meet them in the finals but a team with an average player with a weak partner beat them. Just goes to show you can never predict the outcome of a darts match. Sometimes your hot, sometimes it’s like you never played the game before.
Anyway, we did meet Cristy and Nancy again in the losers bracket and got our revenge. Then we beat the team that had beat them and made it into the finals. We had to beat Espie and Liza twice to take the championship and that’s just what we did.
Well done, Billy!
My new blender is back from the shop and I came home after darts and gave it a try. Loaded it up with frozen strawberry, mango, ice cream, and milk and let it rip. Those razor blades sliced and diced the contents in almost no time. The damn thing still scares the hell out of me though.
I think I might have mentioned my downstairs neighbor got a videoke (karaoke) machine as a gift. As I feared, loud and off-key singing has been the evening’s treat ever since. Last night I had to sleep with music playing in my headphones to drown out the noise. Well, that’s not gonna fly. Videoke is part of the culture here and the locals play it loud and long. One of the benefits of living in Alta Vista is you tend to be above all that noise, or at least you only hear it from a distance. When I agreed that the caretakers of the property could continue living downstairs, it was just Tony and his wife. Tony is dead now but the wife has had family, including small children, staying over frequently. It’s only a one-room accommodation, not sure how they manage it. So I’m either going to have to be a prick and evict her or move when it is time to renew my lease next month. Or maybe if I ask nicely they’ll knock off the bad singing most nights. We’ll see.
Oh, and my head is still shaking about this one. Apparently, the neighbor’s husband told her that someone told him she was fucking ME for money. What the hell? First of all, I’ve never been physical with the neighbor’s wife at all. I’ve not even heard from her since the day I took her to church last week. But why would I pay to have sex with a 40-something married woman? When I want to pay for sex, I have a couple of 20-something hotties I can call. I’m actually pretty damned offended by the accusation, it seems like defamation at a minimum. Haven’t decided what if anything to do about it. Not even sure who made the allegation, it just got relayed to me third hand through my helper. I am glad I took my reader’s advice and maintained my innocence though. Might be another motivation to move, however.
Somebody’s day started much worse than mine did:
That appears to be across the river on Sawmill Road. I’d reckon that black smoke is indicative of a structure fire.
Via Facebook memories I enjoyed this photo of me and some of my former staff at our Christmas party four years ago:
Ms. Yi, Ms. Choe, and Ms. Song. Part of a great team! Don’t it always seem to go that you don’t know what you’ve got till it’s gone…
A rather pleasant walk this morning with Scott and Dan. I’ll post about that tomorrow. Now it is time to prepare for another darts tournament. Speaking of darts, Facebook reminded me that eight years ago I wrote the lyrics to a song called “A Hard Darts Night” after a tough tourney loss. And yeah, I stole the tune from the Beatles, sue me!
It’s been a hard darts night And I’ve been throwing like a punk It’s been a hard darts night But at least I’m getting drunk Yet when I get to the line I think I’ll get it right this time But I still miss the out
You know I throw all day To win some money to buy my drinks And when you lose it in the final leg Well the money, it kind of stinks And so I get home and moan ‘Cause I’m to blame alone You know I can’t hit an out
When I practice, everything seems to be fine In the games, I don’t have a clue at the line, yeah, yeah, yeah
It’s been a hard darts night And I’m really having trouble It’s been a hard darts night ‘Cause I can’t hit the f’n double But I’ll be back for some more Because I’m just a darts whore And that makes me feel alright
Yeah, I won’t quit my day job. Oh, wait…
Coincidentally, today marks the 40th anniversary of John Lennon’s murder. RIP.
Yep, it was a fuck up. Something I’ve never seen happen before and hopefully, never will again. The trail wasn’t particularly well-marked but that wasn’t the worst of it. Turns out there were TWO trails, the one the Hares marked on Saturday and a different version they marked on Monday morning. Hey, nothing wrong with changing your mind but here’s a pro tip: erase the marks on the abandoned trail! Yep, you guessed it. The group I was hashing in followed the wrong trail.
It was kinda funny the way it went down. Black and Dick Her, a relatively new Hasher, was out front. We got to an intersection and she turned to the left. We called her back and pointed out that not one, but two trees, were marked with arrows pointing to the right. We teasingly chided her for not paying attention. So we headed off to the right and weren’t seeing many marks, but eventually, we’d find an indication that we were On-Trail. A bit later we encountered Anal Receptive, a very experienced Hasher, coming back towards us saying he had lost the trail. We reassured him we had just seen a trail mark and this trail was the only option, so he joined our group and we trudged on. A good bit later we did find another tree arrow confirming we were indeed on trail. And that was the last one we saw.
Luckily, we all knew where we were and took a trail that led back down to the Columban College area. On the way, we encountered another group of Hashers who had lost the trail and were taking an alternative route back to the On-Home in Alta Vista. We wished them well and continued on, not quite ready to give up yet. As we walked we discussed the best way to go and then we encountered the Hash trail mark heading towards Rizal Extension. Hmm. We all wanted to know just how we had lost the proper trail, so we decided to walk the trail backwards to see where we had gone wrong. That’s what we did and that’s how we found out that Black and Dick Her had been correct when she instinctively turned left. We also photographed the arrows indicating the right turn that we took. We continued to backtrack to the On-Home where the Hares acknowledged the error of their ways.
Anyway, no great tragedy and it did add an element of adventure to our hike. I saw the map of the second half of the trail we didn’t take and I’m not sorry I missed it. Here are some photos from the day, most of them taken by Pubic Head:
We are ON-ON!On the trail. Or are we?I’m not seeing any marks here guys?Pubic Head and Snap-On Jarhead carrying on.Still no marks…what kind of trail is this?Now we are backtracking the trail. See that powder on the tree root? That’s how you are supposed to mark the trail and there should be a mark at every possible intersection.Living in the sticks. She actually knew my name. I’d met her when she was visiting the mountain family on My Bitch trail.I did a post on erections, but get a load of this ‘cock!Some ups and downs along the way.Back to the scene of the “crime”. We followed this arrow……and this one. Whoops! Ah well. Safe and sound at the community center in Alta Vista.The Hares: Bum Burglar and Almoranus. Shooting the shit with the guys…Circle up!The Hares on ice right where they belong.It’s all about perspective I suppose. This Husky LOVES spending time on the ice. Imagine that! Pubic Head did a nice photo collage of Flaming Asshole getting a Hash-style birthday cake…
I wound up getting drunker than normal and went straight home after the Hash. Up earlier than usual since I was in bed before eight. Yeah, no shit, that’s just sad.
But it was nice to see the sun come up from my desk.Inspired me to make a healthy breakfast.If yesterday’s trail was a post, it would look like this one.
How’s that title work for clickbait? No worries, this is not about my erection (I don’t have one) and all of the photos are safe for work.
Another Hash Monday is upon us and with it comes a morning-time post about the events that occurred in my so-called life in those very few hours since my last update. Not much to say about the gin and sodas I enjoyed at Cheap Charlies other than to report that my reduction of beer and bread seems to be working. Down seven pounds now and nine more to go to reach my 195-pound goal.
I also visited the Palm Tree hotel for dinner, which is right next door to Mango’s. I’m afraid my days of being a regular at Mango’s may have come to an end. The big attraction there for me had always been sitting beachside and enjoying the view. But the reopening of the floating island with all its residual impacts has completely blocked the view of the mountains and sunsets.
Yeah, Palm Tree is responsible for this erection but at least their bar is on the second floor allowing me to, ahem, overlook the mess they created.
In other news, some cunt has reported to the government that bars are operating again in Barretto. Technically, bars are prohibited under quarantine rules but restaurants can operate and serve alcoholic beverages along with food. So, the bars in Barretto all became restaurants and life has gotten a little closer to normal. The mayor has called for a meeting with the bar restaurant owners on Tuesday. Hopefully, they won’t be forced to shut down again.
I don’t want to be normal.
As I mentioned in yesterday’s post, I confined my afternoon walking to the neighborhood. I can walk all the streets in about an hour. To make it a little more interesting I took some photos of all the erections I saw along the way. There’s a bit of a housing boom taking place in Alta Vista these days. Several new homes have just been completed and I counted eleven more in various stages of construction during my walk. Even at that, I’d guess less than 20% of the available lots have been built on.
This one is probably 99% completed now. In fact, when I walked past this morning I saw people moving in.This one has a long way to go yet. It’s being built to Western standards though with poured concrete instead of hollow block construction.Another one almost completed now. This is the construction that blocked my access to the My Bitch trail. Lately, I’ve taken to walking along the outside of that fence on the left to reach the trail. Hopefully, I’ll be able to continue to do so once the house is occupied.They were going like gangbusters on this one but I’ve not seen a worker on-site for a couple of weeks now. Maybe the owner has run out of money?This one has been making slow but steady progress for going on a year now. It’s getting there.On the other hand, this house right across the street has not had a nail pounded since the COVID insanity started in March. Don’t know if those two events are related…This one is also getting close after a year’s work. It’s the largest house I’ve seen in Alta Vista and has a million-dollar view. In fact, it takes two photos to give you an idea of the scale…See what I mean? Wow! I can see some great parties on that terrace…This is probably the newest start and they are making good progress…Another gigantic house almost completed. I like the looks of the place but it doesn’t have the great vistas of some of the other houses here.And finally, this will be my new neighbor and is being built by a Hasher–Leech My Nuggets. Welcome to Alta Vista!
Speaking of Alta Vista, today’s Hash will be starting and ending at the community center. My crew will be providing the foodservice once again. I’m contributing a double batch of slow-cooked chili con carne.
Twice the ingredients, twice the goodness? I hope!Frankfurters on fresh buns from Angel’s bakery…Pork kebabs…All at a fair price!
And here’s the secret to great BBQ:
My food is great when you are drunk…
All right, that’s it for now. Got to prepare myself for today’s adventure on the Hash trail. I’ll be back tomorrow with a full report!
Not that it matters, all my days are pretty much the same around here. Well, there’s no darts today but that’s okay. I didn’t feel like playing last night but I wound up doing the tourney anyway. My first instinct proved correct. Oh well.
I’m actually feeling low energy today for some reason. No fever or other physical manifestations. Blood pressure is higher than I like (146/87) but I don’t worry until I break the 150 barrier. I had planned to do the beach walk to the old Navy base and back but then decided I’d just do the streets of Barretto for my 10,000-morning steps.
Came back home still feeling lethargic. Got a message from Nikole the masseuse saying she was in town. I told her I wasn’t feeling well. She said she could make me feel good. I declined which is probably the best evidence of my mood today. I took a good nap and feel a little better now. Will probably stick to the neighborhood for my afternoon walk though.
So this is a nothing day and nothing post, even by my low standards. Here’s a couple of photos from Friday’s walk I never got around to posting to tide you over.
I never tire of the bay views……and the valley views are pleasing as well.A flowery vine-covered shack was visually appealing.And my favorite from the hike. It almost feels like a metaphor for my life, but I can’t explain why.I guess that’s enough selfie reflection for one post.
It will get better. It always does.
In the park I saw a daddy With a laughin’ little girl who he was swinging And I stopped beside a Sunday school And listened to the song that they were singing Then I headed back for home And somewhere far away a lonely bell was ringing And it echoed through the canyons Like the disappearing dreams of yesterday
On the Sunday morning sidewalk Wishing, Lord, that I was stoned ‘Cause there’s something in a Sunday Makes a body feel alone And there’s nothin’ short of dyin’ Half as lonesome as the sound On the sleepin’ city sidewalks Sunday morning coming down
I’m not a believer so I don’t really believe that. It’s probably just sheer coincidence. Still, it makes you think.
The first incident took place 43 years ago in 1977. I was a mailman in Anaheim, California at the time. I doubt if I ever would have even thought of the event if something I read on Quora hadn’t yanked me back in time to that fateful day. Here is the question that was posed:
I wasn’t the boss but had it happen to me. Back when I was a letter carrier with the USPS we had to “bid” on vacation dates based on seniority. Only a certain percentage of employees were allowed to be off at any given time. Anyway, I had the first week in June and another guy had the second week. A few days after the bidding was over, the other carrier came to me and said his plans had changed and would I mind switching with him. I didn’t have anything going on that week so I said sure, let’s clear it with the boss. So we approached the supervisor and told him what we wanted to do. He replied, no problem and instructed us both to fill out a leave form canceling the approved time off and then fill out another form requesting the new dates. And so we did just that.
Once he had our cancellation forms he took our names off the board showing approved leave. And then he DENIED our new leave requests saying another carrier was on extended leave and so the maximum number of carriers was already off. In other words, both of us lost our planned leave. He was gleeful as he told us and it was obvious he had suckered us into canceling our prior approved leave.
So, all these years later I just want to say thank you, Mr. Frank Nathan. Your actions that day caused me to join the union and later become a shop steward and eventually the president of the local union branch. My work with the union impressed the HR Director and she promoted me into my first management job. I had over 35 years of government service when I retired as a GS-15 Human Resources Director and I’m now living a happy life on my pension in the Philippines.
I honestly never really thought about how that incident may have played a role in changing my life. I recall being very pissed at the time and talking to my union steward about it. He agreed that the supervisor was being an asshole but he was also technically within his rights to deny our leave requests after we had canceled the previously approved leave. It was a lesson learned and one that helped me become a better leader. I’m sure you are long dead by now Mr. Nathan but you are proof of the old saying that no man is totally worthless–he can always serve as a bad example.
And then there was the thing that happened this morning. My neighbor’s wife had asked if she could join me on one of my hikes. Well, I’ve been following the advice of my commenters to the post linked above and maintaining my distance from “Judy”. But it’s nice to have company when I’m walking and really, it’s an innocent thing so I figured no big deal. We had agreed on Sunday but she sent a message saying she needed to go to church on Sunday and asked to join me today. Fine, let’s go. She wanted to meet up the road a piece, I guess so her hubby wouldn’t see us walking together. Anyway, we met up and set out. I took her out the back way from Alta Vista and then down through Marian Hills. We had to avoid some dogs and do some puddle jumping but she was a good sport about it. She really was surprised seeing some of the sights that have become old hat to me, so that was pleasant. I thought she might get tired out early on but she was a good trooper.
As we walked, we talked of course. She said her husband hasn’t been feeling well so this walk was a break for her. She told me of her efforts to gain legal status in her husband’s home country of Switzerland that has been stymied by the logistical restrictions due to COVID. Then she talked about her church. She told me she had resided in the church for several years serving as a missionary. They would go on missions to convert Catholics to the true “born again” faith. As she went on and on I asked if she were trying to evangelize me. She laughed but didn’t deny it. I asked where her church was located and she told me Olongapo City. She mentioned the name but the only part that stood out was “4th Watch”. I didn’t recall hearing that before, but it was still vaguely familiar.
About an hour and a half into our walk, along a route I take on a regular basis, we turned a corner and I saw this sign:
Over the course of several months I had observed this church being constructed but otherwise paid it no heed. But that was where I had seen that “4th Watch” term.
When I pointed it out to “Judy” she was both shocked and excited. She had no idea a branch of her faith was out here in the sticks of San Isidro. Of course, she wanted to go in and have a look-see. And this is where it got a little weird. Everyone in the building appeared to know her! They beckoned me inside and I reluctantly entered so as not to appear rude. Then we got invited into the parsonage where Judy engaged in banter with an older woman and I accepted a chair offered by a cute young woman. And then the “bishop” came in and we exchanged introductions and some small talk. The usual where are you from, are you a believer type talk (my standard response is I raised in the Pentecostal faith) you’d expect in this situation. They did comment on my Biblical name, so I dutifully recounted John 3:16 from memory. They all seemed quite impressed. Anyway, it wasn’t unpleasant and they all seemed warm and welcoming like any good Christian should be.
It was all news to “Judy” that the Olongapo church was now closed and all these people she knew from there were assigned to this new mission building. I was invited to join them for Sunday services and I was non-committal, but of course, that’s not going to happen. Not sure if “Judy” is going to make it, but it’s an easy trike ride from here. She also took pictures with me and the Bishop which made me a little uncomfortable. I asked her after we departed how she was going to explain my being there with her. She already had told them the “truth”–I was a neighbor and a friend who had graciously shown her the way to the new church building which I had discovered on my many walks through the area. Okay then.
Anyway, for the remainder of the walk, it was all about “God’s plan” and how He had used me to guide her to the new church. I finally had to make it abundantly clear that I did not now, nor would I ever, be sharing in her religious beliefs. Things got a little quiet after that. As we neared the highway, a trike driver offered a ride. I declined, she accepted. So I walked the rest of the way home alone and haven’t heard from her since. Perhaps I never will again. That would I guess be God’s will.
Although I was now walking alone, I did encounter this cutie walking in front of me:
I wasn’t sure if her shirt was yet another message from God.
And oh yeah, as I was entering my neighborhood I met “Judy’s” husband as he was walking out. We exchanged nods in greeting. It was a weird end to a rather bizarre hike.
Okay, well that never happened to me. Although Se Hwa did break up with me by email. Ah, memories!
But this DID happen to me yesterday:
Final score: Billy wins 9-7
I started out on fire, leading at one point 6-2. And then the wheels came off. Went into the final leg tied at 7 and the match on the line and couldn’t pull it out. Very disappointing. Be careful what you ask for I suppose. I was striving for consistency. I was consistently good in the beginning and consistently sucked in the end. And no, I was not suffering from alcohol-related hand/eye coordination issues; I intentionally limited my beer intake during the match. I think my performance issues are mostly in my head–I need better focus and concentration. Anyway, I’ll keep working on it. At least I lost to a very good player who was throwing excellent darts throughout the match.
Ah, well. Life goes on. And there is more to life than darts. Like taking the dogs out for a walk and a pee.
Not sure why that toilet was there, maybe somehow related to the house being constructed next door.
Over on the Subic Hash Facebook page, Pubic Head posted photos from run #1276, which was held on January 1, 2018. That’s an important date in history because it was my first ever Hash experience. Yep, I lost my virginity that day. Here are a few photos from that event:
All loaded up and ready to roll with my first ride in the Hashmobile. Gem was with me for my last visit to Barretto before making the move. I enjoyed her company but sadly she turned out to be a liar and a scammer. Another hard lesson for me.My first Hash trail. Sure could have used my trekking pole that day!My first Hash circle.The deflowering ritual.Drink it down down down down…
And now I have 121 runs completed with the Subic Bay Hash House Harriers. Glad I joined!
After my disappointing darts performance yesterday, I came home and made dinner. Roast chicken, pumpkin soup, cauliflower, garlic bread, and fruit salad! It was all good. Or I was drunk. Or both.
I’m no Richard, but sometimes I can be a dick:
Bada Bing!
And as long as I’m on a roll, how about this:
Alright, I’ll stop for now. Planning to throw in the dart tourney at Alley Cats tonight. Yes, I said tonight. They have finally changed the start time to a more reasonable 5:00 p.m. in recognition of the new midnight curfew. That works so much better for me.
