A couple of rain free days will spoil you. Woke up to rain this morning and it hasn’t stopped. I hate being stuck in the house almost as much as I hate walking in the rain. So here I sit, alone with my memories of yesterday’s hike.
It was an interesting path I found myself on. I was following the Hash marks from last week’s trail to see what I had missed. Fortunately, the Hare had used shredded paper rather than powder so it was still mostly visible. I had a hunch where the trail was leading but I turned out to be wrong about that. I missed a couple of turns and I had to retreat and search out the true trail. I was kinda of proud of myself for being successful at that, but finally I lost the trail for good on top of the mountain overlooking Barretto.
I’d been up here a couple of times before.And the views are quite pleasant.
But now I wasn’t seeing any Hash marks and it appeared there were only two options: straight down or walking the ridge line. I took a few tentative steps on the steep down path and then thought better of it. Once I committed to the ridge I noticed there was no more paper, so I had chosen “wrong”. But I was pretty sure I had been walking the trail from last week in reverse, so if it was the steep path, they had come up it, not down. And down looked “slipping and sliding out of control dangerous” to me. No regrets with my choice!
The view from my chosen path. Better safe than sorry!
I wasn’t exactly sure where I was, but I eventually could see my subdivision below me in the distance. I found a path that led down to that familiar ground and I deemed the afternoon a success.
After a poor showing at darts last night, I returned home to be greeted by my loving boys, Buddy and Lucky.
They got a good whiff of my socks……and later I found them like this. Powerful stuff!
No real progress on the weight loss to report, but I’m working hard at staying on plan.
A grilled pork chop from Mango’s. Low carb doesn’t have to mean low taste…
And that’s all I got on this rainy afternoon. Well, there is this:
Here’s a quick after action report on my one week visit to Vietnam. I’m not going to recap everything I’ve already blogged about; this will just be a brief summation of highs and lows.
Overall, I really enjoyed the city. It’s certainly not up to Seoul’s standard infrastructure-wise. For example, there’s no subway (although one is under construction). Saigon is comparatively cleaner than what I’ve experienced in the Philippines, but that’s not saying much. It appeared to be foreigner friendly, at least in District 1 where I was staying. There was a vibrancy and “hum” about the city that was kind of exciting, especially for someone like me coming from a small town.
So, without further ado, here’s a “Top 5” good and bad list.
The good:
1, People were friendly. It probably helped that I had friends there steering me to the right places, but I never really encountered any outright anti-American sentiments or anything like that.
2. The women were beautiful. Although I did not partake in a physical way (other than a massage that ended happily), I enjoyed meeting and chatting with several lovely ladies I met in the bars. Well, chatting may be an overstatement given the lack of a common tongue, so maybe it was just body language.
3. A very friendly and close knit expat community. This was not unlike what I’ve experienced in Barretto, and it’s a big deal for me. I would have a hard time living anywhere where I was the only person around who looked like me. The folks I met were very warm and welcoming and it felt like I fit right in with them.
4. The food. I shared pretty much everything I ate in earlier blog posts. Obviously, I didn’t go all-in Vietnamese, but that’s really my point. There was a variety of foods available to suit my mood and with few exceptions they were all quite good.
5. The service. Maybe this ties into the first point, but damn, people serving you there certainly aim to please. At my hotel, the Lotus Central, I was honestly shocked at how accommodating the staff was to all my needs and requests. Hell, one night there was a personalized handwritten note on the bed wishing me “sweet dreams”. I’ve stayed in hundreds of hotels in my lifetime and as far as costumer service goes, this one was the best ever.
The bad:
1. The traffic. Okay, it’s a big city, and most big cities have traffic. And the traffic certainly wasn’t as bad as it is in Manila. If my tour guide is to be believed, there are 15 million people in Saigon and 7 million motor scooters. Many intersections are not even regulated with traffic signals. It was really something to see the vehicular dance they call driving there. Very surprising how few accidents there seem to be.
2. Not walking friendly. There are actually sidewalks on most streets. And “sidewalk” is Vietnamese for motor scooter parking. Apparently. It was a little shocking how the streets were lined with these scooters blocking both the sidewalk and the street front businesses. I’m not sure if that is something you get used to or not. And crossing those busy streets as a pedestrian? Scary stuff! You’ve got to find the rhythm of the traffic–an inopportune hesitation could be fatal.
3. Not as cheap as the Philippines. But then, where is? And really, Saigon is a big city which always tend to cost more than the ‘burbs. Manila is probably similarly priced.
4. The language barrier. This is huge for me. My Vietnamese is non-existent and with a few exceptions most of the locals I met spoke little to no English (my hotel staff was a happy exception). Thank goodness for Google translate! English speaking ability was one of the primary reasons I chose the Philippines for retirement purposes. Although I could see myself living in Saigon or Phnom Penh, I expect I would be lonelier there.
5. Yankee guilt. Time marches on and all that, and certainly no one (other than my tour guide) ever referenced some of the atrocities that are inherent during armed conflict, but it was hard for me to shake the memories of that regrettable war. I was very much anti-war in the 1970’s. With time I’ve come to see that our intentions in preserving the South’s independence may have been good, but the execution was both flawed and deadly on both sides.
There you have it. A fascinating city that I will perhaps one day visit again. Although if I return to Vietnam I would definitely like to get out of town and see new sights, including the beaches near Da Nang.
Would I live there? I could. But I like where I’m at now better. It’s a good fit for me. Things could change of course so it’s good to have a Plan B. Saigon remains a possibility should I ever decide to move on.
UPDATE: And so without further ado, I bid you adieu.
Actually, no I wouldn’t. Okay, I will. But it will take me 53 days. I just did the math. Now, Kevin Kim on the other hand, is fixing to walk from Incheon, on the west coast of Korea, all the way down to Busan, which is at the southeastern tip of the peninsula. That’s around 650 kilometers! Kevin has created a new blog to document his adventure. Feel free to join me in following along.
As a hobby walker I’m always happy to just achieve my 20,000 steps/15 KM daily goal.
Yesterday was a better than normal day. I guess it was just the joy of being back on the familiar turf of Barrio Barretto.
It was mostly a rain free day, which helped. I also spent the afternoon with My Bitch.
It had been quite awhile since I hooked up on this particular path. And from the looks of things no one else had been up there either. The trail in many places was completely overgrown with tall grasses. It made for some treacherous hiking because I could not see the actual trail under my feet. And there are places where a wrong step to either side can send you careening down a steep hill. At one point I completely lost the path which was especially disconcerting. I eventually saw some barbed wire fencing and I recalled the trail ran along side that fence. So, I found my way but vowed “never again” until burn season is here and the grass is torched.
If I were to do a Kevin Kim-like distance hike, I might enjoy something like these four Hashers did back in 2014: Barretto to Angeles City. Here’s a short six minute video of that adventure. Three of the guys were in their sixties, so perhaps there is hope for me yet!
“It took 3 years to find this route, it’s not on any produced maps and only 4 people have the trail. The route is all off road and follows many animal paths and little known trails straight over the top of the Zambales Mountains. This was completed on 25th Feb 2014 and only 4 of us had the courage and ability to undertake it. “This is the route they took…
Speaking of Hashers, I got a kick out of this Michelob beer commercial, which captures some of intricacies associated with Hashing. Without the perversions and un-PC songs of course! Damn it, I can’t embed for some reason, so you’ll have to click on the link below:
So, I kicked off my diet plan yesterday. Had a nice big three egg omelet with ham and mushrooms for breakfast. No lunch, although I did have a handful of nuts. Then I had this for dinner at Sit-n-Bull:
Okay, the cole slaw is not really low in carbohydrates, but damn, it was just too good to resist. I compensated by pulling some of the skin of the chicken wings.
Four more 60 calorie beers at Cheap Charlies, then walked back home. Made a sugar free banana pudding for dessert. It’s a start!
So, my goal is to get down to 190 pounds and then maintain my weight within the 190-195 range. My big surprise yesterday was weighing in at 199 pounds. That’s less than I weighed when I left for Vietnam! Granted, I did weigh-in right after my sweaty mountain hike, so I wasn’t carrying much water weight. Still, being under 200 and appearing fat confirms my suspicion: It’s my damn beer belly that’s the problem. We’ll see what I can do about that (and for the record, I’d rather be fat than give up my beloved beer!). Regardless, I have 10 pounds to go. Let’s see how long that takes.
When I’m lonely, well, I know I’m gonna be I’m gonna be the man who’s lonely without you And when I’m dreaming, well, I know I’m gonna dream I’m gonna dream about the time when I’m with you When I go out (When I go out), well, I know I’m gonna be I’m gonna be the man who goes along with you And when I come home (When I come home), yes, I know I’m gonna be I’m gonna be the man who comes back home with you I’m gonna be the man who’s coming home with you
But I would walk five hundred miles And I would walk five hundred more Just to be the man who walked a thousand miles To fall down at your door
Be it ever so humble, I’m back home to reality. I’ll take it as a good sign that I’m happy to be here.
My last night in Vietnam was spent at an Aussie bar named Blue Gecko, playing darts with my old friends Alex and John, along with my new dart league teammates who made me feel welcome. I was pleased to play well enough to win all the games in which I participated, and that contributed to an upset of one of the top ranked teams in the league. A team consisting of Filipinos, which I thought was a little ironic.
Speaking of John, he was involved in a motor scooter accident after our dinner gathering on Saturday night. I felt especially bad because during dinner I had asked him about how dangerous it looks to ride in this city and whether he had ever experienced a crash. He hadn’t. Until I jinxed him I guess.
He was lucky coming out of it with just a cut above the eye, a shiner, a gash on his knee, and some whiplash. He wasn’t up to playing darts so I was happy to fill in on his behalf.
Got home from the bar late (for me) and had a 5:30 a.m. alarm, ahead of my 6:30 ride to the airport for my flight’s 9:30 departure. All were accomplished on time, no thanks to the Vietnamese immigration departure queue. Longest damn line I ever did see, but I made it through with 30 minutes to spare.
The fact that I was flying on the anniversary of 9/11 didn’t escape my thoughts. I couldn’t help but notice the Muslim gentleman sitting on the aisle across from me (as evidenced by his beard and taqiyah), but I figured the odds were good that he was a peaceful follower of the faith. Still, when the flight attendant serving lunch reached our row and announced they were out of chicken and only had a pork dish remaining, I surreptitiously watched for his reaction. It was just a shrug and he went without. Mine was up to the standards you’d expect from a third world airline. We landed safely, avoiding damaging any buildings along the way.
My regular driver, Donny, was ill but he sent someone to pick me up as scheduled. We got stuck in Manila’s notorious traffic (crawling along bumper-to-bumper for over two hours). I guess the distance we traveled in that time to be maybe ten kilometers. I know I can walk faster than we were moving. Anyway, once we reached the expressway things went better, but it was still over 5 hours of driving all told. I hate Manila and try to avoid flying out of there, but there were no direct flights to Saigon from my preferred airport in Angeles City. Oh well, it’s done.
My dogs were ecstatic to see me, and it’s always good to feel that kind of pure love. The first thing my domestic helper said to me was “you’ve gained some weight”. Nice to see you too! She’s right though, I threw my semi-good eating habits out the window, reasoning that I was on vacation so why not? I also got in fewer steps than normal, and it shows. I’ve not gotten on the scale yet, but I’ve set a new reduction goal–down to 190 pounds.
In that regard, I’m re-instituting a strict(er) low carb diet regimen (didn’t even buy ice cream at the grocery store today!) and will get back into my 20,000+ steps per day habit. I’m planning on doing that intermittent fasting thing too–a hearty low-carb breakfast and not much else until a light evening meal. I will of course continue drinking beers, but at least I’m back on those low calorie San Miguel Zero’s.
And there you have it, one day back and already my blog is boring again. Normal ain’t so bad!
I fly out in the morning, so here’s a photo essay of my final hours in Saigon.
Monday night on Walking Street, the bar area in the “backpacker” district. Walking street is a bit of a misnomer, given that there was still plenty of motorbike traffic to avoid…This sign gave me a chuckle, although it was not enough to lure me in…I reckon I’ll miss Saigon some, but probably not the Miss Saigon…Truth be told, I didn’t really like the Walking street experience at all. It seemed like every bar was trying to out blast their neighbor’s bullshit music. Just give me that ole time rock-n-roll! Pretty busy for a Monday evening and it was obvious that the bars were going for a younger crowd. I don’t fit that demographic anymore nor do I want to…Hmm, what should I eat?Ah, this will do! Yeah, I had a burger and fries in Vietnam. Man does not live by Pho alone!So much to learn, so little time…An oyster bar snack, then bedtime…Up early this morning and after the hotel buffet, I headed out for my walk. Wound up down by the Saigon river.This is a tough city to walk in. Most streets have sidewalks but they serve mostly as motorcycle parking areas. It was a nice break to have an unobstructed path to walk and no need to dodge traffic…Enjoying the Saigon River views…Some type of government building. The red star Vietnamese flag and the omnipresent hammer and cycle are testaments to the communist heritage of the united Vietnam…And yet, free enterprise abounds as evidenced by the Ho Chi Minh stock exchange…And religion is openly practiced as well, at least the nuns I saw weren’t shy about parading about in their habits…Remnants of the war to expel the imperialist invaders and reunite the people of Vietnam, as seen at the Ho Chi Minh museum.The worst part of Saigon? Well, 7 million motorbikes make walking around a hazardous undertaking…The best part of Saigon? Well, I’ve got to say that the beauty of the Vietnamese women certainly rivals that of the Korean females I’ve so dearly loved…And after much exploration and trial and error, I can declare the In Sai Gong rooftop bar as my favorite watering hole. Although I never did have a water there…Here’s a job I could never do. Gave me the willies just watching them swing around up there like Spiderman…After all that walking, I was ready for some lunch. Chose this Vietnamese place around the corner from my hotel. Most expensive place I’ve eaten at this trip, but why not splurge and live a little? I am on vacation after all.Started with some honey garlic pork ribs that were quite delicious…Then I had half a roasted chicken that was possibly cooked (there were scorch marks on the bottom) and obviously served in this bamboo tube. Never seen that before. However it was prepared, it came out tasting most excellent.And when you order half a chicken, you get half a chicken. Including this foot. None for me, thanks!
Still a few nighttime hours to fill. Plan is to see Alex and the boys play darts then say my goodbyes. Probably head over to In Sai Gong for a final cold beer as well. Then it’s off to the airport at 0630 for my 0930 flight to Manila.
I’m glad I finally made it to Saigon. And even more glad it wasn’t as a soldier.
UPDATE: Well, turns out I was also “wrapping it up” back in November, 2015. I also had no idea that Jee Yeun would be wrapping up the marriage just a month later. Still hurts.
Winding it down on my penultimate day in Vietnam. I’m still enjoying walking about and exploring my little part of the city during the day, and of course, the bars at night.
Speaking of walking, I intended to Hash yesterday with the local Saigon kennel. Walked over to the meeting place and arrived early. Then it started pouring down rain. Well, I had been on the fence about participating to begin with. I wasn’t comfortable being bused out of town and getting lost or something, then missing the ride back. Yeah, I’m a wimp. The rain gave me a good excuse to bail and I took it.
Here’s some random pictures from my journey I haven’t posted yet:
Met up with a couple of friends last night at a bar with a happy hour special that couldn’t be beat. All the Tiger draft you could drink between 3-7 p.m. for 145,000 dong ($7). I didn’t start until 4:30 and still got my money’s worth…The bar also featured live music from a Filipino band. Wish they had a sexy Pinay singing though…Yesterday I went to a restaurant for lunch run by a guy from South Africa. I had some beef stew and it was actually awesome…As I mentioned in yesterday’s “foodie” post, I sometimes just snack at the bar instead of having a proper meal. These mussels were a tasty treat…And I ordered a side of kimchi to go with them and it was also quite tasty.Quaffed a few brews in here the other night. Barkeep didn’t speak any English, but we had some fun with Google translate.One of my walks took me to Walking Street, which is where all the backpackers seem to congregate. Lots of hostels and small hotels. And plenty of bars like this one. I do enjoy sitting outside and watching the world pass by when I’m having a cold alcoholic beverage. My favorite bar so far though is the Sai Gone rooftop bar. And this cutie is the sweetest bargirl I’ve met this trip…
I’m going to say right up front that I’m no “foodie”. In fact, I’m not all that adventurous when it comes to exploring local cuisine in general and street food in particular. So, why am I doing a post about the food I’ve eaten thus far during my Vietnam adventure?
Kevin Kim that is. One of my faithful readers and commenters truly is a foodie and has expressed interest in how I like the food here.
Let’s eat!
This morning’s breakfast. My hotel has a free buffet and it’s not bad. They have an egg station where you can eat more traditionally, but where’s the fun in that? That’s a nice clam and corn soup in the bowl. Curried chicken and spiced fish, bacon, watermelon and a tasty roll. I didn’t like the fish, the only “traditional” Vietnamese dish on my plate. It was too hot for my taste.They also have a juice station, but I’ll be damned if I’m going to drink this! Yeah, yeah, I’ve licked my share over the years, but you’ve got to draw the line somewhere…
Last night, my pal Alex invited me out to his favorite restaurant for some leg of lamb.
I guess one of the last vestiges of the French colonial days is the abundance of tasty baked breads.The meal also featured a tasty Greek salad.About the only time I eat lamb is in a kebab, so I’m no expert. But this had a unique flavor which I assume was a Vietnamese twist to spicing. It was really good.No one had a bone to pick about the meal……right Alex?
The best meal I’ve had so far though was the lunch served during the Mekong river tour I took on Friday. It was also probably the most traditional Vietnamese fare I’ve had on this trip.
I have absolutely never seen fish served in this fashion. When I first set down at the table I thought it was just a decoration. It was quite tasty.Some of the other dishes served, including meat on a stick, spring rolls, and those yellow fish-eye looking things.
Now one Vietnamese diet staple is the bahn mi sandwich. I think I saw them featured on an old Anthony Bourdain episode and I’ve wanted to try one since I arrived. Oddly enough, when I asked hotel staff for a good bahn mi restaurant, I was told the best ones were from the street vendors. Go figure. Anyway, after my morning walk yesterday, I brought one home:
Decisions, decisions. I went with the pork… Oh, if you are curious, the dollar buys 23,000 dong at current exchange rates. So these sandwiches are relatively inexpensive. It felt good cashing in those Ben Franklin’s and walking out of the bank with some big dong! *ahem*My bahn mi chef hard at work…
It was quite tasty, although I would have liked more meat. At Subway I always ordered double meat, an option I was unable to request given the language barrier…
Dining out has kind of been hit or miss. Usually drink until hungry, then either eat at the bar or pop into a nearby restaurant. Sometimes I’m not even sure what’s on offer. Stopped into this place the other night with some mates, and it was almost like being back in Korea, but without kimchi.
Yep, grilled meats! And this seafood stew was quite good as well…
And about the only other Vietnamese delicacy I’ve had thus far is a soup called Pho.
Looks like this and is also quite tasty. Although the one I had was chicken and there were more noodles than meat. Especially good after some hard beer drinking.
Did an all day tour yesterday, featuring the Cu Chi tunnels and the Mekong river delta area, both of which are about an hour and a half from Saigon. I do enjoy travel and seeing new places and things, but I don’t like being a tourist. Or to be more precise, I don’t enjoy guided tours much. Yesterday was a prime example of why.
Got picked up at the hotel as scheduled at 7:30, then drove a ways across town in heavy traffic to pick up more tourists. When everyone was on board a bit after 8:00 we headed south. Our tour guide was a 20-something Vietnamese man who said his name was “Laughing”. His English was almost understandable. He seemed very proud of his country and there is nothing wrong with that of course. But my first red flag of the day was when we pulled into a small factory where traditional Vietnam paintings made from eggshells and seashells were manufactured. Laughing told the government built the factory to enable area residents who had suffered birth defects after American use of poison gas during the war. I assumed he meant Agent Orange. Throughout the day, Laughing never missed an opportunity to regurgitate the anti-American propaganda he’d been fed his whole life.
Anyway, the factory was NOT part of the tour package and it was only mildly interesting to see the process used by the workers in creating their art. And surprise, surprise the guide led us into a large showroom full of completed objects available for our purchase. For the first of many times I muttered “this is bullshit”.
In due course we made on way onward to the Cu Chi tunnels that had been instrumental in the North’s attacks on the South throughout the war. It was a pretty impressive engineering fete, no question about it. Laughing’s commentary about the means and methods used to kill the American invaders got old pretty fast though. I found myself biting my tongue to avoid asking what about the South Vietnamese Army troops, who far outnumbered the Yanks, were as fun to kill as well. Anyway, you get the idea. And I acknowledge that the victor gets to write the history of the war in the manner of his choosing. Hell, I was a vocal opponent of the war back then, but something about Laughing’s gleeful stories about how the wise Viet Cong lured the foolish Americans into their gruesome traps was off-putting. I was glad to finally depart for the Mekong portion of the tour.
We stopped for lunch along the way and I’ll have to give credit where it is due, it was a damn fine meal. I’m going to do a “foodie” post tomorrow, so I’ll save that story and photos until then.
The Mekong was disappointing as well, or to be fair, not what I expected. I was envisioning a river cruise, instead we boarded a derelict river boat and went to the other side. Upon arrival, we were served a honey tea and some banana chips. Both were quite good. Then Laughing came around with a beehive and talked about how the honey was used in several “miracle” products to improve health and skin. And wouldn’t you know it? Those products just happened to be available for purchase. I thought now that is real B.S. (bee shit). I did buy some overpriced banana chips which were quite tasty.
Next we walked a bit up the river to a place where we were treated to some traditional Vietnamese music. I’m sorry, the Vietnamese spoken language is even more grating on the ears than Chinese. At least to me. And when sung it sounds like high pitched screeching. The instruments were twangy but not unpleasant however. Tip boxes were conveniently brought around to our tables and of course I contributed. After all, the did stop singing and that was a behavior worth rewarding!
We then walked some more, boarded golf carts for a bit, then walked through some yards (felt like Hashing almost), and then boarded some canoe like things for a ride down a canal and back to the riverside. We were encouraged to tip the boat rowers, and hell, they deserved it managing to move our fat asses downstream.
Once back on the river shore we were given a demonstration of how coconut candy was made. Didn’t much care about that, although the sample was tasty enough. And of course, they had some for sale. No thanks!
Back on the boat at last and we were provided some coconut juice (still in the shell) to enjoy. Then we boarded the van for the two hour ride back to Saigon, where we arrived at 6:00 p.m. It was a long day of touring and it took several hours of beer drinking last night to wash the taste out of my mouth. Here’s the photos:
A tunnel. I went into one but didn’t stay long. It required crawling around on my hands and knees to get through. No thanks!One of the booby traps used to kill or maim American soldiers. No mention of the South Vietnam troops though.Laughing took great pleasure in describing the way these traps caused painful injuries made worse by trying to escape. More traditional killing machines were also on display…By the end of the tour I was ready to kick some Viet Cong ass, not withstanding my opposition to the war…An hour and a half later we stopped at this rest area for lunch. Nicest rest area I’ve ever seen and the food was quite good.We finally arrived at the Mekong river…And boarded this piece of shit for a river ride.That’s Laughing describing how clean and wonderful the Mekong waters are, despite the brown color.If you say so…The bees that shit to make the honey that makes the miracle cures that just happened to be on sale…Then it was time for a pain in the ears. Not saying they weren’t talented, just not to my liking.Down this creek we were destined to travel…Thankfully, we had two locals to do the paddling…That would be me back aboard our river yacht enjoying some coconut juice.And then a two hour ride back to Saigon. I’m told there are 7 million motorbikes in the city and I believe it…I’m not sure what it is about a Vietnamese gal on a bike that trips my triggers. Oh wait, maybe she’s right!Finished the night with beers and music from a Filipino band. Much easier on my old man ears, that’s for sure.
Alright, dinner plans tonight and hopefully something worthwhile to add to my foodie post tomorrow. Stay tuned!
So far, so good. Still feeling my way around Saigon/HCMC, but I rather like it. In fact, Vietnam is now ahead of Cambodia as a “Plan B” option should life in the Philippines not work out. Saigon (I prefer that name and will use it henceforth) is comparatively clean (isn’t everywhere compared to the PI?), modern, and bustling. I have never in my life seen so many damn motor scooters! I’m pressed for time this afternoon, so let’s let the photos do the talking.
DAY 1: Nice airport, only hold up was the visa process took about 30 minutes, but sailed through immigration/customs. Hotel transportation was there waiting and whisked us to the Lotus Central hotel.
It is a clean and functional 8 story hotel and I’m very comfortable here so far. Around 50 bucks a night.Room is smallish, bed is comfortable, wifi works well.Seeing this put a smile on my face. I do miss my bidet days…Up on the roof is this lovely swimming pool which I’ve not used and probably won’t. In fact, I haven’t seen anyone else using it either…The rooftop also affords beautiful views of the city like this one. This is similar to the view from my room, only 2 floors down. Another shot of the Saigon skyline…My first meal in Vietnam was this chicken dish for lunch. Big bag of fries came with it. It was in this back alley cafe near my hotel where I enjoyed street side dining… And my first Vietnamese beer.
I did a quick walk around the neighborhood, then had to get ready for a meetup with some old friends from my Seoul days who live here now. I had an address and a Grab driver dropped me off at said address. But there was no bar to be seen there. So I walked over to the bar district and started asking other bar patrons where Shooters bar might be. Most didn’t know or gave me wrong directions. Finally, an American in a bar was able to give me specific detailed guidance on reaching my destination. Which took me right back to where the Grab car had left me. What the hell? About that time my friend Alex arrived.
He apologized for the confusion and pointed up to the 3rd floor. I still didn’t see it as the bar has absolutely no signage. We walked into what looked like an office lobby and took an elevator upstairs.
It’s a tiny place, even smaller than Alley Cats, my local darts venue in the PI. Very narrow, but has 4 dart boards with computerized scoring. Actually very nicely done.
I got drafted to play with Alex’s team in a league match against the top rated team in Saigon. We got our asses kicked, but I did manage to win a best of 5 singles match 3-1. So, I can add Vietnam to the countries in which I’ve played competitive darts (USA, Korea, Japan, Thailand, Cambodia, Philippines).
And it was of course really great catching up with my old mates John (on the left) and Alex.After darts I walked back to the hotel. A little drunk but not hungry enough to eat here (yet).Settled for nice bowl of chicken pho at a place near the hotel. Sorry the pic is so shitty. Maybe I was drunker than I remember.
Day 2: Took a good long walk in the city to see what I could see. Saw the Ho Chi Minh museum with some captured American tanks and planes out front and thought about having a looksee, but changed my mind thinking I’d find the actual war museum I’d heard about. I didn’t though.
There was this cool tree though…
I guess snapping that photo tagged me as a tourist because the vendors descended upon me. One guy actually started “repairing” my shoes with glue. I’m like WTF, no thanks! But he kept right on. Then he untied my shoe and that was enough, I just walked away.
A Saigon street. Those cycle and hammer banners are everywhere…A monument to some past hero I suppose. Crossing streets here is insane for a pedestrian. I read somewhere that you are suppose to just keep your stride and pace as you cross and the motorbikes and cares will avoid you. I tried that and I guess it worked, or at least I wasn’t hit. Later I crossed with some locals and I noticed that they did in fact slow down to let cars and bikes go past. Geez, it’s a mystery how anyone lives to tell the tale of crossing some of these busy highways. Heh, I guess I just did though, didn’t I?Made it to the banks of the Saigon river. I’m still considering taking one of these “water buses” while I’m here, but haven’t yet. Tomorrow I’m doing an all day tour to the Mekong river delta…Needed some liquid refreshment and spied this rooftop bar name Sai Gone. Cold beer and hot waitresses! I was the only customer for awhile…Enjoyed “Cheap Charlies” like views, although the street action featured many young Vietnamese women instead of the old men of Barretto….
Met an American couple from California enjoying their honeymoon and shared some beers with them. I’m now Facebook friends with the wife! It started raining hard about the time I was planning to leave, so what could I do? Stay for more beer of course! Hey, I’m on vacation!
It was back to Sai Gon that night where I expected to meet some Hashers. I didn’t see any. Later as one guy was leaving he saw my Hash attire and said I could join them for a run on Sunday. Meet up at the Caravelle hotel. Let’s see if I can find it.
Very drunk end to the day, but once again I successfully found my way back home to the hotel. Day 3 report will have to wait as I have plans for more explorations in the bar district tonight and need to prepare.
Arrived safely and without incident. Got checked into my hotel room, which is quite nice for the price. Now I’m going to hit the mean streets of Saigon and do some exploring.
First impressions: It’s a comparatively clean city. I haven’t seen anything like the poverty that is rampant back home in the Philippines. Traffic is crazy but somehow it works, like a mad dance or something. Oh, and the women are quite gorgeous. They appear sweet and innocent, at least from a distance. Of course, I’ll need to investigate further.
I heard about the great food choices here in Vietnam. And they were right! Right outside baggage claim I find this:
Kevin Kim asked for lots of food pictures…here’s the first!
Just kidding, I’m holding out for some real food. Okay, time to get out there and have a look see.
Busy as a bee getting it all together for my next adventure. Completed my paperwork for the visa on arrival processing, did my Philippines Air check-in and printed out my boarding pass, and of course packed my suitcase.
I have a 6:55 a.m. flight to catch in Manila and my driver suggests we leave Barretto at 0100. Between now and then I’ve got a Hash to participate in and then hopefully a few hours sleep before hitting the road.
Forty-six years ago the last place I wanted to be on Earth is where I now happily choose to visit and explore. I guess the difference is that I have the choice. Back in 1973 you might say I won the lottery–a lottery to determine who would be called to serve (drafted) in Uncle Sam’s military endeavors. And also in 1973 the draft was ended (one month before I turned 18). At the time you might say it felt like I had dodged a bullet. I actually came to regret not volunteering for military service, but that’s another story for another day.
And now at long last Vietnam is indeed my immediate destiny. I’m looking forward to seeing what I missed, without all the gunfire, rockets, and bombing of course. As close as I’ll get to that violence is a planned excursion to the war museum.
And of course I’ll be sharing all the excitement from the trip right here on LTG. Stay tuned!
We met as soul mates On Parris Island We left as inmates From an asylum And we were sharp As sharp as knives And we were so gung ho To lay down our lives
We came in spastic Like tameless horses We left in plastic As numbered corpses And we learned fast To travel light Our arms were heavy But our bellies were tight
We had no home front We had no soft soap They sent us Playboy They gave us Bob Hope We dug in deep And shot on sight And prayed to Jesus Christ With all of our might
We had no cameras To shoot the landscape We passed the hash pipe And played our Doors tapes And it was dark So dark at night And we held on to each other Like brother to brother We promised our mothers we’d write
And we would all go down together We said we’d all go down together Yes we would all go down together
Remember Charlie Remember Baker They left their childhood On every acre And who was wrong? And who was right? It didn’t matter in the thick of the fight
We held the day In the palm Of our hand They ruled the night And the night Seemed to last as long as six weeks On Parris Island
We held the coastline They held the highlands And they were sharp As sharp as knives They heard the hum of our motors They counted the rotors And waited for us to arrive
And we would all go down together We said we’d all go down together Yes we would all go down together
A second place finish in darts last night. Not bad considering my partner Jerlyn is pretty much a rookie. Friday night had a similar outcome, except that after coming back through the loser’s bracket to play the team that put us there, we all agreed to just call it a tie, split the pot 50-50, and take our drunken asses home.
Everyone’s a winner!
In other “news”…
The new Divimart opened yesterday. There was an insane traffic jam on the highway. Made walking more perilous than normal. Idiots were driving on the shoulder (even the unpaved portions) like it was a traffic lane. Us pedestrians had to avoid cars and scooters as best as we were able. Kind of pissed me off, but I used my mantra to calm myself down. Some.
I don’t have much else, but let me just dump some stuff I’ve found on Facebook and my wanderings around the internets…
Over in Thailand there was an unusual story of a foreigner fleecing a poor local. I mean, that’s pretty fucked up. The Thai local was a street food vendor. What’s worse than stealing from the poor? It’s almost always the other way around. I’ve been scammed a few times myself. You know, helping out a “friend” in need with a loan, never to be repaid. I mean, I get it. When you are living day-to-day and hand-to-mouth paying a debt to a “rich” foreigner is not going to be a priority. The shocking thing to me was that they didn’t even bother to give me an excuse, just broke off all contact. And these were people I had known for years. I’m obviously a horrible judge of character. So maybe I got lucky having dishonest people removed from my life. I’ll trust to Karma to extract a form of retribution on their lying asses as payment in full. Good riddance!
Yep.
Three years ago I was putting on the last suit I ever expect to buy. Tailor-made of course!
“Girls go crazy for a sharp dressed man”. Or so I’ve been told.
Speaking of women, this was my gal three years ago (thanks for reminding me Facebook):
I took Eun Oke to visit my office and let her try out the Director’s chair. I fell in love with her despite all the warning signs. Did I learn from it? Well, one year later it was Loraine’s turn to fuck me over…
Also seen on FB today was this bulletin board posted in an American schoolhouse:
is’nt it a shame that our kids are failing?
Speaking of language, I had never thought of this before:
It’s a little queer for sure…
I’ve always admired creative problem solving:
I may need to keep this in mind if my beer belly keeps growing…
Although my breakfast this morning at Sit-n-Bull wasn’t exactly low carb either:
Don’t give me any shit about it. I only ate half of that shingle…Yep, pretty much every single day. Well, night. I try to avoid drinking before 5:00 p.m.
And finally, this is the second time I’ve used “sloppy seconds” as a post title. Back in April 2014 I also finished second in a darts tournament. And afterwards went out for a nice samgyeopsal dinner at my favorite place in Itaewon. With my wife, her daughter, and some friends. The next day we dined at Tabom Brazil with the esteemed Kevin Kim.
It never ceases to amaze me how everything in life can change. Not always in a good way, but we find a way to survive. Well, it feels more like dying and being reborn, if you get my meaning. Either way, it’s good to be alive! Let’s see what happens next.
Oh, this lunch break is gonna take all afternoon, And half the night. Tomorrow mornin’, I know there’ll be hell to pay, Hey, but that’s all right. I ain’t had a day off now in over a year. My Jamaican vacation’s gonna start right here. If the phone’s for me, You can tell ’em I just sailed away.
And pour me somethin’ tall and strong, Make it a “Hurricane” before I go insane. It’s only half-past twelve but I don’t care. It’s five o’clock somewhere.
So, the other day I did a Google search of my name. Yeah, I was that bored. It had been awhile but there wasn’t much new I hadn’t seen before. Well, it was a little shocking to see that one of those “find me” sites said I was 91 years old and still living in Lexington, SC. The other thing I found interesting and/or amusing was a blog called Joyful Public Speaking (from fear to joy), written by one Richard I. Garber, who back in March referenced a post of mine from 2010 about diversity training. Specifically, the term “flip” and its offensiveness to Filipinos.
Here’s what he cited:
A 2010 web article by John McCrarey titled Concerning Diversity Training had the following discussion: “Anyway, as an example of insensitivity the instructor solemnly informed us that the visual aid commonly referred to as a ‘flip chart’ was offensive. Seriously. You see, ‘flip’ is a derogatory term applied to Filipinos. And so according to the trainer we should henceforth call the flip chart a rip chart.
To our credit, we didn’t let the trainer get away without asking some clarifying questions. Like, it is wrong to ‘flip a coin’? Is it permissible to ‘flip through the pages of a book’? Or how about if someone cuts you off in traffic–can you ‘flip them the finger’? Yeah, it’s true. We were certainly being ‘flip’ about the subject.”
Heh, indeed that was one of my finer moments. And I was in good company because the next reference in Garber’s post is from Jordan Peterson, as quoted by the New York Times. The Times being the Times it is unflattering of course, calling Peterson the “custodian of the patriarchy”. I’ll just call him “my hero”!
I’m always honored when someone links to my blog, whether it brings me any new readers or not. And it seemed like the least I could do was leave Garber a comment. And this is what I said:
HaHa! I just did a Google search of my name and found a link to your blog citing a post I made referencing “flip charts”. A belated thank you for the mention.
I actually live in the Philippines now. I certainly would never call any of my neighbors a “Flip”. I still wouldn’t have a problem referring to a “flip chart” in the context of a presentation board. But since I’m retired now I doubt I’ll have the need.
Here’s a funny anecdote: A web forum where I’m a member automatically corrects any usage of the term “flip” to Filipino. So, were I to type “everyone here wears flip flop shoes”, it becomes “Filipino flops”. Cracks me up every time. And by the way, do you know what Filipinos call that type of shoe? You guessed it–flip flops.
You gotta laugh.
So, if any of y’all think my using the term flip in the context of a flip chart is offensive, well, all I can say is I don’t give a flip.
Bobbie McLane was the Human Resources Director, my first boss as a member of management, and a great mentor. I needed that, because I was pretty much clueless.
How clueless? This clueless: After I had applied for the safety job but before I was interviewed, there was a labor-management meeting scheduled up in Fayetteville. Bobbie came down to my work station and asked if I’d like to ride to the meeting with her. I politely declined. I mean, after all, I was the union steward; I didn’t want it to appear I was cavorting with management! A bit later, Bobbie’s secretary came to see me and asked me “John, don’t you want the safety job?” I told her of course I did. She gave me a look that said “are you really that stupid?” but the words she used were “Bobbie wanted you to ride with her so she could get to know you better and talk about the job”. Oh shit! Well, I made sure I was seated with Bobbie for lunch and a few days later it was announced that I had been selected as the Fort Smith, Arkansas Management Sectional Center (MSC) Safety Specialist.
I was actually quite surprised to have been picked because I had absolutely zero background or training in safety. I had met with Bobbie numerous times in my union capacity and she told me she picked me for the safety job because she liked the way I handled myself in those meetings. I guess that just goes to prove that sometimes it’s not what you know, but who you know. And that’s not always a bad thing.
So that first year I spent several weeks at the Postal Service training facility in Potomac, MD learning how to do my job. Most of the courses were two or three weeks in duration, which gave me a good opportunity to explore DC on weekends, a city I had never previously visited. I wound up doing quite a bit of traveling, and I came to enjoy meeting women the perks associated with traveling on the government dime. I’m just now recalling a wild time an important meeting in Chicago. And in kind of a weird turn of events, I was attending an accident investigation course in Norman, Oklahoma on the day the space shuttle Challenger exploded.
One of the nice things about working in a small MSC (consisting of around 100 post offices in Northwest Arkansas) was that I was given the opportunity to take on additional duties and fill various voids that were not staffed. For example, I was designated as the MSC Public Affairs Officer, where I answered media inquires and dealt with disgruntled customers. It was pretty cool to come home from work one day and have my kids excitedly tell me “daddy, we saw you on TV today!”.
Bobbie started having me write her grievance decisions as well and once she was satisfied that I was firmly in management’s camp I became her designee for dealing with the union. It was strange at first to be arguing over labor disputes from a management perspective, but I reasoned it was really just about interpreting the words in the collective bargaining agreement.
Labor relations work was what I liked best so I started applying for labor vacancies all over the country. I got interviewed for a job in Charleston, SC and selected for one in Columbia, SC. So I loaded up my family (had a new wife now) and made the move. I felt bad about leaving Bobbie in the lurch after all that training and only 18 months or so on the job. But as a good HR manager should be, she was happy to see me progress in my career and was glad that she had given me the opportunity to learn and grow.
Not much to talk about today, but y’all know that has never stopped me before.
Anyway, I just got wind of this:
It appears Typhoon Kabayan is heading my way. If this projected storm track holds, it will be come right through Olongapo. Hold onto your hats!
The first thing I do every morning after I wake up is look out the window. I mean, I’m paying a premium in rent for the view, so I need to get my money’s worth. This morning I saw this…
…big ass ship slowly moving through the bay. I’m not even sure what kind of ship it is, but it is much larger than the usual freighters and other craft I see out there.
I guess I’ve always struggled somewhat with spelling (thank God for spellcheck!) and grammar. I never thought much about punctuation though until a commenter (alright, I’ll out him–Kevin Kim) noted that my comma usage could stand for some improvement. So, ever since, I’ve been cognizant of that problem, and now I try to inject a few commas, whether I need them or not! And now this morning I’m reading another blogger, Althouse, who was giving her take on the Bret “Bedbug” Stephens meltdown. Then she tacks on this addendum:
Excellent except to the extent that the provost is still doing 2 spaces after a period. Come on! Also, there’s no extra space before the new paragraph. That too much/too little combination is mildly infuriating.
Okay yeah, I get needing that space between paragraphs–it both looks better and makes for easier reading. But I’ll be damned if I’m not going to put two spaces between sentences. When did that rule change? I distinctly remember when I took typing in high school (for you youngsters, this was before keyboards were invented) two spaces after the period was not optional, it was a requirement. Someone is going to have to prove to me that two spaces is one space too many. Okay, rant over.
There was some good news on the ‘net today though. A new study has found that people who drink alcohol and coffee live longer. Well, you can’t argue with science, right? My only problem is that I usually only drink one cup of coffee each day. Hopefully the fact that I overindulge in beer drinking will counter any ill effects of my limited coffee intake.
There have been a number of dire warnings about climate change, with some saying we have only a decade to fix things. Others say we have only months. But now climate scientists have revealed the worst news of all: Climate change killed us years ago, and the Trump presidency is some purgatory-like trial similar to the last season of the TV show Lost.
“We’ve been crunching the data, and it’s the only thing that makes sense,” explained climate scientist Andrew Halloway at a press conference presenting the findings. He warned that their scientific conclusion is considered a spoiler for the final season of Lost but also said that the season was “terrible” and that “no one should watch it.”
“We probably died somewhere around 2016,” Halloway further explained. “That’s when everything got really weird — and everything since has been some sort of trial to teach us a lesson before we move on to the afterlife — maybe a lesson about teamwork or something.”
While the scientists presented a lot of data to back up their conclusion, many are doubting it or calling it “bad theology.” Some are even calling it “blasphemous” since it implies that God would copy the final season of Lost when God, being infinitely wise, most likely stopped watching the show after the first season.
I reckon the science is settled so no need to debate. We aren’t doomed. We are dead. It was nice knowin’ ya’s.
On a more serious note, if you are on your motor scooter, put the damn cell phone away!
At least he’s wearing a helmet.
Alright, I reckon that’s just about enough for now. Let me leave with you a couple of pics of my boys:
Lucky to Buddy: “Take it easy! I’m a lover, not a fighter!”Buddy to Lucky: “That’s okay, I’m a fighter AND a lover!”
Yes, my dogs are gay. Not that there is anything wrong with that.
I was in for a bit of a surprise yesterday evening. I arrived at Alley Cats expecting a few folks would be there, but instead the place was packed. And I was greeted with a hearty “happy birthday, Kuya John!” I was stunned and a little embarrassed. Being the center of attention in a big crowd is really not my thing, but of course I went along with it, offering gracious and sincere thank yous.
There was food……and a cake.The Filipino-style birthday song followed by me blowing out a candle.I was gifted a case of my favorite beer…And got lots of hugs and affection from the female guests…Birthday boy eats first and it was all good……including the best damn cole slaw I’ve had since back when my mom was around to make it. Chock full of goodness and I was gifted this large bowl full to take home and enjoy!
So it turned out to be a good night. Despite my discomfort I was genuinely moved that so many people wanted to share time with me on my birthday. I know I rag a lot about being alone, a loner, and/or lonely; but damn, I was reminded that in just a little over a year I’ve met some good people that consider me a friend. It really did make me feel that I’ve found a home.
In the virtual world, I was astounded with the greetings I was besieged with on Facebook. They ran the gamut of the high school girlfriend, two of my ex-wives, friends from my Postal Service days, people I knew when I worked in DC, Korea peeps, folks from South Carolina, friends I’ll be seeing next week in Vietnam, and of course my kids and other family members. It may be hell to grow old, but you do acquire some nice memories with the people you have met along the road of life.
So yeah, it was a good birthday and a good time to reflect on all the positives I’ve been blessed with. I probably tend to dwell on the negatives way out of proportion to their importance or meaning in my life. I’ll try to hold on to the good thoughts and warm feelings as I plod along in this sixty-fourth year on planet Earth.
Are you boys ready to roll?oops, looks like Lucky is going to make a run for it!
Nah, he knows not to bite the hand that feeds him!
I hope the day will be a lighter highway For friends are found on every road Can you ever think of any better way For the lost and weary travelers to go?
Making friends for the world to see Let the people know you got what you need With a friend at hand you will see the light If your friends are there then every thing’s all right
It seems to me a crime that we should age These fragile times should never slip us by A time you never can or shall erase As friends together watch their childhood fly
Making friends for the world to see Let the people know you got what you need With a friend at hand you will see the light If your friends are there then every thing’s all right
UPDATE: Well, how about that? I used “party hardy” back in May 2016 as well. Back then it was a friend’s birthday party and an ill-fated wedding party.
Obviously, the answer to Paul McCartney’s question, posed in a song, at least in my case, is no! All the women that I have loved or who have purported to love me, disappeared from my life long before I reached the ripe old age of 64. Heh! They don’t know what they’re missing!
Anyway, it’s rather amusing to look back to those youthful days when that tune was a hit. I had no concept of what being 64 meant, other than it made you ancient. But now that I’m here, I don’t feel particularly old and/or decrepit. I’m certainly more active than I’ve been in years. This morning’s weekly stats report from Fitbit offer confirmation:
160,404 steps taken, for an average of 22.915 per day. That exceeds my 20,000 daily step goal.
I walked 123.28 kilometers last week. Not bad for an old guy!
I burned an average of 3766 calories per day, which is a good thing given the beer calories I’ve been consuming.
I’m getting 6.36 hours of sleep per night which is about right for me.
My resting heart rate averages 64 beats per minute, which is a healthy sign.
The blood pressure (assisted by meds) is consistently in the high 120s/ low 130s range, with diastolic readings at 90 or below. So, while not ideal it is far better than it used to be and good enough for an old fucker I reckon.
I could stand to lose another 10 to 15 pounds (I’m currently at 203). Damn ice cream!
Suffice to say, as much as it sucks to get old, it beats the hell out of the alternative. So I intend to keep on keeping on.
You know, I do sometimes fantasize about Japanese porn going back in time. Like say, 50 years ago. In 1969 I was entering my freshman year of high school. If I only knew then what I know today! Lots of things I’d do differently of course, but then, I’d likely make other mistakes, and no telling how that might turn out. Still, it’s kind of fun to think about the life I’d live both before and after purchasing IPO stock in Microsoft, Apple, and Google.
Maybe that’s all just a pipe dream, but I was walking down the highway the other day and I got pretty excited when I saw this:
Alas, it seems to be a case of false advertising. They weren’t selling tickets for a journey to the past after all…
So it looks like I’m stuck with the life I’ve lived. And the one that is yet to come. My body may be older than it was, but in my mind this is what I see:
Everybody’s so different, I haven’t changed. Well, I am drinking higher quality beer these days, so there’s that.
“Age has no reality except in the physical world. The essence of a human being is resistant to the passage of time. Our inner lives are eternal, which is to say that our spirits remain as youthful and vigorous as when we were in full bloom. Think of love as a state of grace, not the means to anything, but the alpha and omega. An end in itself.”
― Gabriel García Márquez, Love in the Time of Cholera
Yesterday was Hash day and it was a bit of a fiasco of my own making. After a morning full of sunshine the rains came pouring down in torrents in the hours preceding the Hash. I made the decision before I left the house that I wasn’t going to go climbing up in the mountains under these conditions. So I carried my umbrella instead of my walking stick. And wouldn’t you know it? Just a few minutes prior to departure time the rain stopped, the sky turned blue, and the sun was shining brightly. The Hares to their credit, went back out to remark the trail, and most of the kennel followed them shortly thereafter. I stuck by my decision and just walked the streets for an hour, but by all accounts it was a perfectly fine trail. I really regretted being such a wuss.
So, I get to our “On-Home” at Midnight Rambler ahead of the group and grab a menu. I rarely go to this venue other than for the Hash. They have a small restaurant run by a Brit and called the BBC. And they had a whole menu page devoted to pies:
It’s apparently their specialty! I splurged on the Cornish Pasty because I’d never had one before.This is what it looked like. Now, clearly I could see the difference in a pasty from the pies I’d experienced at other restaurants. And I could see how they had folded up the crust in a similar fashion as I’d seen Kevin Kim demonstrate on his blog. Now, mine was supposed to come with mashed potatoes instead of chips, but I was there for pasty, so what does it matter?And this was by far my best meat pie/pasty experience yet. The crust was firm without being dry, tasty without overwhelming the delicious and plentiful meat. So, Midnight Rambler/BBC is the place to go in Barretto when you have a hankering for this English delicacy. At least so far.
As I dined on my flavorful pasty, the Hashers trickled in from the trail and I felt like a heel for not having been out with them. But more beers eased that pain. And then it was time for the Hash circle.
Now, there is a Hash tradition that honors Harriers celebrating birthdays by preparing them a cake. I had hoped to avoid this recognition given that my birthday was the following day, but apparently that was close enough. And so I got my cake:
Eggs, flour, sugar, oil, and some yeast in the form of beer. All mixed together on my head. I was thankful there was no oven nearby!
And that was last night. Nothing special about today thus far. Grocery shopping, a brief walk, and I guess some sort of get together at Alley Cats later this afternoon.
Time marches on and so do I.
When I get older losing my hair Many years from now Will you still be sending me a valentine Birthday greetings, bottle of wine? If I’d been out till quarter to three Would you lock the door? Will you still need me, will you still feed me When I’m sixty four?
While I’m really not anti-social, I’m a bit of an introvert and don’t much care for large get-togethers unless I know the participants well. Gunter, aka Vienna Sausage, a fellow Hasher and de facto leader of the Wednesday walking group, has invited me to join gatherings at his place several times. I’ve always been non-committal about attending and subsequently never showed up. So, he was having a surprise birthday party for his girlfriend (also a Hasher–“Goes with a Dick”) yesterday and more or less insisted that I come. Well, not that I felt obligated, but I didn’t really have any Sunday evening plans other than sitting around drinking, so why not?
I had a general idea of where Gunter lives but no clue on how to get there. Troy (Demolition Derby) was playing darts at Alley Cats in the afternoon, so I met up with him there and after the tourney he showed me the way to the party. I made a batch of brownies to take along for the birthday girl. I also baked some cupcakes for the gals at Alley Cats and they seemed to go over well.
While I was waiting for Troy to finish with darts, I found myself seated at the same table with Steve, the Englishman who doesn’t drink. Although we’ve gone mano a mano at the dart boards several times, I’d never really talked to the guy before. Well, I’m nothing if not polite (shuddup!) so I asked him where he’s from in England. He told me Plymouth, a place I’ve actually heard of–people say Plymouth rocks! *ahem*. Steve also said that he had spent the past 22 years in Spain. I’ve never been to Spain, but I kinda like the music (yeah, there’s no stopping me!). I asked him what he did in Spain and he responded that he owns a bar there! I admit to being gobsmacked by that fact.
I couldn’t resist the urge to ask why a guy who doesn’t drink would own a bar? He laughed and said he’d only stopped drinking a year ago. And he stopped because his drinking was out of control. Good for him! Anyway, his rented the bar out now and seems to be enjoying his new life in the Philippines. I asked how he spends his time here and he responded he likes playing darts (duh!) and walking. I invited him to come out for the Hash and Wednesday Walkers and he expressed interest in doing so. And now we are Facebook friends to boot. See, I’m not anti-social!
Troy finished with darts and we made our way to the party at Gunter’s. Drank some beers, ate some food, had some small talk with my fellow guests, and sang Happy Birthday.
It turns out everyone there was a Hasher, so I wasn’t amongst strangers at least…
Still, I was the first to say my “goodnights” and head on out. I did pop into the Man Cave bar on my walk home. Called one of the dancers down for a couple of drinks and had a pretty good time I think.
This morning I woke up in a fog.
Literally.
The fog eventually lifted, and lo and behold, we had us some blue skies for a change. I took advantage and hoofed it over to Arizona for breakfast. My waitress, Grace, greeted me by name. And she told me she had seen me walking the other morning while she was coming out of the drug store and she called out “Hi John!”, but I had ignored her. Hmm, I had no recollection of that event. I probably just didn’t hear her, but I told her that I have women calling out to me all day long and if I stopped to answer I’d never get my steps in. She didn’t seem too impressed with that response.
Anyway, after she took my order she started asking me about Busan. I honestly don’t recall ever mentioning Korea to her but obviously I must have said something about having lived there. I told her Busan was a great city and I had always enjoyed visiting there. She asked me about working there as a Filipino and all I could say was that Busan is a little cheaper than Seoul to live in, and that I had met many Filipinos in Korea who were living a comfortable life. She was evasive when I asked her why she was interested in Busan, so I let it go.
Finished my morning steps, took a nap, and wrote this blog post. After being sunny most of the day, it has clouded up again and is currently pouring down rain. It appears my hopes for a dry Hash today have been washed away. Along with most of the trail markings the Hares (Demolition Derby and Vienna Sausage) put down this morning no doubt.
Ah well, if it keeps on raining like this the Hash today will just be another social event on my calendar. It’s all good.
Well, I’ve never been to Spain But I kinda like the music Say the ladies are insane there And they sure know how to use it
They don’t abuse it Never gonna lose it I can’t refuse it
Well, I’ve never been to England But I kinda like the Beatles Well, I headed for Las Vegas Only made it out to Needles
Can you feel it? Must be near it Feels so good Oh, it feels so good
Well, I’ve never been to heaven But I’ve been to Oklahoma Oh, they tell me I was born there But I really don’t remember
In Oklahoma, not Arizona What does it matter? What does it matter?
I got a big smile from commenter Kevin Kim’s link to his review of the movie “Rush”; a film about the competition between racing greats James Hunt, an Englishman, and Niki Lauda from Austria. Kevin jokingly equated their epic battles to my struggles with my darts nemesis, Steve the Englishman who doesn’t drink.
Well, as fate would have it, I crossed swords darts with Steve again last night. This time it was in the 501 doubles tourney at Alley Cats bar. Steve is consistently better than me, but when I’m on my game I can hold my own with him. The wild card in doubles is who you draw as a partner, and last night my partner was a tad better than his. So in that sense it was a pretty equal match. Naturally we wound up facing off in the winners bracket, where me and Gerlie took a hard fought 2-1 victory. Steve and his partner came back through the loser’s bracket and we went at it again in the tourney finals. That match was about as close as it could be, but once again, Gerlie and I prevailed 2-1.
We are the champions my friend, and we kept on fighting till the end…
Or maybe we just got lucky. Speaking of Lucky:
Lucky established himself as the dominant male dog of the house by killing Buddy this morning. Or so it would appear.
I’m kidding of course. But Lucky has come a long way:
This is how Lucky looked the day he came to live with me. Skinny and hungry he was…And he also had a horrific case of the mange going on…more scabs than fur…These days Lucky is fat, dumb, and happy….
I’m not kidding about the dumb part. He truly is the stupidest dog I’ve ever owned. I love him anyway of course. But damn…
You better watch what you say You better watch what you do to me Don’t get carried away Girl, if you can do better than me, go Yeah, go, but remember
Good love is hard to find Good love is hard to find You got lucky, babe You got lucky, babe, when I found you
You put a hand on my cheek And then you turned your eyes away If you don’t feel complete If I don’t take you all of the way, then go Yeah, go, but remember
Good love is hard to find Good love is hard to find You got lucky, babe You got lucky, babe, when I found you
