I knew yesterday’s Hash would be a tough one. It was hot and the notorious Leech My Nuggets was the Hare. So, when Leech announced that the medium trail was “only” 7 KMs I thought to myself “why not?” and hopped in the Hashmobile. Just before departure Leech looked in the truck (granted, not at me directly) and said “some of you ought not be doing this trail”. Who knew a masochist could be so kind? Well, when Leech My Nuggets admits his trail is a motherfucker (or more aptly, more of a motherfucker than normal) I ain’t one to argue. I hopped out of the truck and went with the group doing the shorter 4 KM trail. That turned out to be a good decision.

Of course, the climb up from Olongapo was no easy walk in the park. If I had to name it, I’d call it the “Come to Jesus” trail. None of the veteran Hashers could recall ever having hiked that way previously. Indeed, in places it felt like we were blazing a brand new path.

Made it back to the “on-home” at Hot Zone without incident. Over an hour and a half hiking to go 4 KMs says something about the terrain. As slow as I am going up, I’m even slower coming back down. Gravity is not my friend.

We did our usual Hash circle activities. The festivities were a little muted because it was election day and the Filipinas among us were not permitted by law to drink beer.

And yes, I spent some time on the ice as well.

It was also announced that I would be next week’s Hare. I told the circle it was going to be “an old man’s trail”. The old men present seemed to appreciate that!

On-On!

Had a bit too much excitement whilst walking Buddy and Lucky this morning. I always stay in the neighborhood with the dogs because there are too many aggressive strays on the streets outside. There are a couple of assholes in the subdivision that let their dogs out, but all they do is bark. Usually I just pick up a rock and they turn tail and run away.

So today I’m walking and I see a dog up ahead, just standing there staring at us. As I approach he continues to stand motionless, no barking, just that stare. To be on the safe side, I cross to the street. But as I pass he comes charging in full attack mode. He was probably twice the size of Buddy. Buddy to his credit wasn’t taking any shit and got right back into it with the aggressor. I hollered and picked up a rock, yanked Buddy back on his leash, and chucked the rock at the fucker. He took off for home. Man, I was pissed.

I recognized the dog as the one who lives on the last house on this street. The dog has always been within the fenced yard and barks like crazy when I pass by. That’s natural and doesn’t bother me. Anyway, as I approached the house I saw the aggressor dog was in the yard but the gate was open. So I called out to the house and the female owner came out. I told her I had been attacked by her dog. She seemed surprised to hear that, but not for long. Because, you guessed it, that bastard attacked us again! She screamed and yelled at the dog to no avail. And the fight was much more brutal this time. Buddy and him are really going at it, I’m trying to pull Buddy back but of course that had no effect on the bully dog. The owner tried to come in between them, got tangled in the leash, and knocked to the ground. I started kicking her fucked up dog, he’d back off for a second then come back in. I must have kicked that bastard three times as hard as I could and he wouldn’t back off for long. After one kick, he did leave Buddy who was fighting back hard and then attacked poor little Lucky, who didn’t stand a chance. Some other people came out of the house and managed to chase the demon dog back into the yard.

Buddy had a couple of bite marks and Lucky was bleeding from one of his ears. The owner was on the ground in pain, apparently she had recently had back surgery. I almost felt sorry for her until she admitted she had intentionally let her dog out. “I didn’t expect anyone would be walking by” was her excuse. I told her I walk this way every other day and she had seen me do so. I asked her if her dog had his shots and she assured me that he did. The dog looks healthy and well-cared for so I tend to believe her. Both of mine have had rabies vaccinations so I trust they will be fine.

Hell of a way to start my morning though. Jesus.

This is political but I had to laugh:

And to cleanse your palate, a non-political joke I like:

An 85-year old man is having his annual checkup. The Doctor asks him how he is feeling.

“I’ve got an eighteen-year old bride who’s pregnant with my child. What do you think about that?”

The Doctor considers this for a moment, and then says, “Well, let me tell you a story. I know of a guy who’s an avid hunter. He never misses a season. But one day he’s in a bit of a hurry and he accidentally grabs his umbrella instead of his gun. So he’s walking in the woods near a creek and suddenly spots a beaver in some brush in front of him! He raises up his umbrella, points it at the beaver and squeezed the handle. BAM !
The beaver drops dead in front of him.

“That’s impossible!”, says the old man in disbelief, “Someone else must have shot that beaver.”

The Doctor says, “My point exactly.”

That joke is especially apropos here in the PI where December/April romances are not uncommon. And yes, I see guys older than me raising up newborns. Not how I intend to spend my golden years, that’s for sure. Luckily I’ve been shooting blanks since I was 50.

Alright, I’ll leave y’all with a song I hadn’t even thought of for decades. I think it’s the only song I know that features a dogfight. Enjoy!

In the nick of time, a hero arose
A funny-looking dog with a big black nose
He flew into the sky to seek revenge
But the Baron shot him down –
“Curses, foiled again!”

Now, Snoopy had sworn that he’d get that man
So he asked the Great Pumpkin for a new battle plan
He challenged the German to a real dogfight
While the Baron was laughing, he got him in his sight

That bloody Red Baron was in a fix
He’d tried everything, but he’d run out of tricks
Snoopy fired once, and he fired twice
And that bloody Red Baron went spinning out of sight

Ten, twenty, thirty, forty, fifty or more
The bloody Red Baron was rollin’ up the score
Eighty men died tryin’ to end that spree
Of the bloody Red Baron of Germany

Today I was feeling depressed motivated, so I took a longer than normal walk. I wanted to map out my trail for next week’s Hash and so I set about doing so. I hoofed it over to Johansson’s and turned on my tracker then walked the “short” trail, ending at the scheduled “on-home”, Treasure Island on Baloy Beach. That portion was 6.5 KM and took me right at two hours to complete (I’m slow on the uphills and descents).

While I was at Treasure Island I enjoyed a BLT sandwich and reflected on the fact that this is where I was staying one year ago while looking for my permanent lodging options

Now I needed to incorporate the longer trail into my map, so I turned off the tracker and walked Baloy Beach road back to the National highway. I turned the tracker back on at the junction where the short trail veers off to Alta Vista subdivision and proceeded to walk the 5 KM section that will hopefully give the runners the additional distance they crave. Anyway, the map came out looking like this:

I was a sweaty mess when I finished that hike! Speaking of motivation, this photo from 6 years ago appeared on my FB feed this morning:

Now that I’ve reached my weight loss goal (at or below 200 lbs) I will indulge myself when I so desire. Like last night. I was having a sandwich and I saw on the daily special menu “fresh baked pecan pie”. I’ll have some of that I told the waitress. And put a scoop of vanilla ice cream on it.

And finally, it is Mother’s Day and I’m of course missing my mama. It’s been over eight years since she passed but time doesn’t diminish the memory.

And so it goes.

I used to hurry a lot I used to worry a lot
I used to stay out till the break of day
Oh, that didn’t get it
It was high time I quit it
I just couldn’t carry on that way
Oh, I did some damage, I know it’s true
Didn’t know I was so lonely, till I found you

Today is the anniversary of my retirement and also my arrival in the Philippines.

Got on a plane that same day and started my new life here in the PI. Hopefully y’all have been following along with my “adventures” here at LTG.

Like anything else I suppose, you fall into your routines and rituals in retirement life. Finding ways to pass the hours, not necessarily in a meaningful way, but hopefully in a satisfying way. Reading the blog you might have concluded that pretty much all I do is walk and drink beer. Come to think of it, that is pretty much all I do.

I’m not complaining. Life isn’t perfect here but it’s comfortable at least. Probably my biggest disappointment has been not finding love, which I thought would be relatively easy once I made the move. In large part I know that failure is on me. As more than one reader has pointed out, I’ve been looking for love in all the wrong places. I think in a fucked up kind of way I’m purposely setting myself up for failure. I’m honestly not wanting to put myself out there in such a way that I can be hurt again. Maybe that makes me a coward. Or maybe that makes me smart. Either way, for now I’m probably going to continue playing it safe.

I’ve also had a learning curve when it comes to friendships, at least with Filipinas. Eva proved to be a tremendous disappointment, “ghosting” me for reasons I still don’t understand. Gem simply took the money and ran. Who says you can’t put a price tag on friendship? So my track record at being a good judge of character remains pretty close to 0%. Ah well, live and learn. I don’t make friends easily anyway. I’d say I’ve established some friendly acquaintances amongst the expat community here, and maybe that’s enough.

On a more positive note, I do feel I’ve made good progress on my “making a difference” goal. I have my charity work, primarily with the orphanage. And four Filipinos on my payroll. And then there’s these two guys:

So yeah, on balance I’m happy with the move. It’s a long way from my USA home and family but that life just doesn’t work for me anymore. There are certainly frustrating aspects to living in the Philippines, but on the plus side I’m learning to be patient (deep breath, relax, accept the Filipino way). And even on the worst of days, this is the view from my living room window:

Let’s see what year two holds in store, shall we?

This is the day of the expanding man
That shape is my shade
There where I used to stand
It seems like only yesterday
I gazed through the glass
At ramblers, wild gamblers
That’s all in the past

You call me a fool
You say it’s a crazy scheme
This one’s for real
I already bought the dream
So useless to ask me why
Throw a kiss and say goodbye
I’ll make it this time
I’m ready to cross that fine line

UPDATE: Well damn, I used the “one year in” title for a post in January 2006. In that case I was talking about completing my first year in Korea. It was kind of interesting (to me) comparing my perspectives from then and now. What a ride it has truly been!

“We’re the only club event in the world where someone was rushed to the hospital because they forgot to take their drugs.”

So, I saw this article about old folks in the UK getting together on a weekly basis to get down and get wild and it gave me a chuckle. Elderly folks need to party too, don’t ya know?

The other day I had been sitting at Cheap Charlies and musing on life as I sipped beers and watched the world pass by below me. At least the portion of the world within my field of vision. Which is of course the world in which I reside. Anyway, it occurred to me that Barrio Barretto is really just a down and dirty retirement community for oldsters who just aren’t ready to settle down to a quiet and staid lifestyle. And man oh man, I see some expats here who are barely ambulatory but are still out there plying the streets with the help of walkers and canes. Got to respect them for that!

Ha! I’m reporting on this phenomenon as an observer, but of course I’m also a participant. Pretty much everyone who lives here full time is a pensioner of one type or another. The exceptions might be a business owner (most of the bars are foreign owned) and some people work via the Internet. And I’ve met a couple of folks who are just outright wealthy and could live anywhere in the world. It’s telling (about them or here I’m not sure) that they’ve chosen this little corner of the third world to call home.

Anyway, I know people as old as their late seventies. A couple of military retirees in the mid-forties is the other extreme. So, I guess that puts me somewhere in the middle. I’m still relatively healthy and active, which is more than I can say for many of my peers. The fact of the matter is that when I look around me I honestly don’t see anyone I’d want to trade places with. I’m not sure if that’s a good or a bad thing, but it is what it is.

So then, why are we all here? I think it’s because, like the Brits in the artilce linked above, none of us are quite ready to settle down. I remember seeing the retirement communities developed for oldsters in places like Sun Valley, Arizona. And even back then I couldn’t fathom the attraction of living such a boring and vanilla lifestyle. Here we have a vibrant nightlife scene, ranging from prostitution bars to more traditional activities like pool and dart leagues. There are also daytime activities like the Hash and golfing clubs. Or long walks on the beach. And perhaps the biggest attraction is having the freedom to come and go and do as we please without being judged or considered “too old”. The girls here have a saying “age is just a number”, and judging by the couples I see out and about they must be sincere. I have one friend who is 66 and his live-in girlfriend is 22.

So yeah, I think the women here are part of the attraction. Guys like me ain’t gonna find any smokin’ hot babes half (or less) our age back in the homeland. And Filipinas are not your standard Western feminazis either, their natural instinct is take care of their man. Geez, I need to get out there and find me one of those! Seriously though, you can find a genuine caregiver for a fraction of what it would cost back home. And sometimes us old folks need that tender loving care. I sure do wish the one I had trained up hadn’t run away.

While far from perfect, life is good here for us old farts. And I do admire these ancient fuckers who are still in the game and not ready to sacrifice an active and engaged lifestyle for the proverbial rocking chair on the front porch. I think most of us who have chosen to live here know that we will likely die here. And we intend to do it with a smile on our face.

Over at Big Hominid’s Hairy Chasms, Kevin Kim shared his recipe for what he dubs a “dildo omelet”. Now, I usually just scramble my eggs because properly preparing an omelet is just too much of a pain in the ass. But Kev’s method of cooking one up was so fascinating I had to give it a try. You can follow his step-by-step preparation instructions at the link above, but here’s how I did mine in pictures:

I had never heard of preparing eggs in this manner. One of my Facebook commenters says they did eggs like this in Girl Scouts. Who knew? I’ll definitely be using this method in the future.

After breakfast I took a morning stroll:

Life is good.

Yesterday’s Hash was challenging. Given that the German (Almoranus) and his Austrian pal (Vienna Sausage) were the Hares, that’s not surprising. Of course we did the big mountain, but the up route, while steep, wasn’t vertical like they normally prefer. No, it was Mother Nature who set about mucking things up.

The afternoon was cloudy with some light sprinkles. I was fine with that because it cooled things down a tad.

Even so, the climb up the mountain was a hot and sweaty one. Took about 30 minutes of hard work to reach the top.

The sky continued to darken and the clouds were looking ominous as we continued along the trail. I knew it was just a matter of time, but would the rain hold off until we were safely ensconced at our “on-home”?

Shortly after the above photo was taken the skies opened up and the rain came down hard and fast. This created several problems. The already challenging downhill became muddy and even more treacherous. And the rain washed away most of the powder used to mark the trail which made it quite difficult to follow. Then my glasses got so damn wet I could barely see.

About half way down I lost the trail. No big deal. I knew where I was so it was just a matter of finding a decent path back down into Barretto. And I managed to do that without falling or otherwise fucking up. Once safely on the road (my old friend Rizal Extension) I noticed several Hashers on up ahead of me a couple of blocks. So I guess my downhill path must have run almost parallel to the one I should have taken. From there is was just enduring a rain soaked walk back to Johansson’s. All told the path I walked was just under 6 KM.

In other news I bought a plane ticket to Korea yesterday. I’ll fly out on May 30 and return to the PI on June 13. I’ll spend part of the time in Seoul and the rest in Pyeongtaek. I plan to catch up with some friends, walk old trails, and get my annual physical examination. Looking forward to it.

So, it turns out yesterday’s journey wasn’t to a remote island after all. Instead we traveled to a remote cove, Sampaloc Cove to be precise. A scenic place with some interesting history. Feel free to read more at the link above. Here’s some photos and commentary from the trip:

Another day in the life in the Philippines.

As opposed to Saturday night when I was–

Up earlier than normal this morning so I decided to take advantage of the relatively cooler hours and do an elongated hike.

I didn’t really expect I’d be out so long and didn’t bring enough water. I took my last swallow as I started my descent from the mountaintop and once I reached the bottom I was on Rizal Extension. I popped into one of the ubiquitous sari-sari stores and asked for a bottle of water.

Anyway, this one didn’t have any water available but the owner vaguely pointed across the street and said something in Tagalog. I was pretty thirsty at this point so I walked over and asked an older gentleman sitting there if he had water for sale. There were several empty bottles of Red Horse (a powerful local beer) sitting on the table in front of him so I think he was halfway drunk. But he hopped up and went inside then came back out carrying some chunks of ice in his unwashed hands. He said the water wasn’t cold and I said that’s fine, I don’t mind warm water. He waved me off, then proceeded to smash the ice against the dirty wall until the pieces were small enough to fit into a container sitting on the table. Then he filled the container with water from a dispenser he had sitting on the porch. He smiled and said “just wait, it will chill”.

Hmm. Well, I would have preferred the water direct from the dispenser, but what are you gonna do? He asked me how old I was, I told him 63. He smiled and said that he and his friend (who was sitting at the other end of the porch) were both 55. So, we all shook hands. Then I poured the water from his container into my empty water bottle. I offered him some money for his trouble and he refused it saying “we are neighbors”. So I thanked him again and was on my way.

And there you have a good example of Filipino friendliness. I’ll let you know if I develop a case of diarrhea. Yes, I did quench my thirst with the gifted water. I also bought a bottle of Gatorade at the next sari-sari store I came across.

Anyway, I finished my hike with a jaunt over a portion of My Bitch without further incident. Well, I was accosted by a pack of dogs, but I was prepared for those bastards since they always seem to lay in wait of an ambush at the end of that trail. I had my walking stick and a handful of rocks at the ready and challenged them with a hearty “come and get it motherfuckers!”. The keep barking but back off a respectable distance from the crazy guy. I learned that the best course of action is being aggressive with aggressive dogs from my days as a mailman.

And that was the end of today’s adventure. So far.

It’s not having what you want
It’s wanting what you’ve got

I’m gonna soak up the sun
I’m gonna tell everyone
To lighten up (I’m gonna tell ’em that)
I’ve got no one to blame
For every time I feel lame
I’m looking up
I’m gonna soak up the sun

Yeah, one of those wallowing in self pity kind of days.

Anyway, I’ll get over it. Soon I hope.

In the meantime, I decorated my dart board up some with souvenirs from my glory days, such as they were.

All the love I’m getting these days is of the canine variety.

And this gave me a chuckle:

That’s all I got today folks. I’m off to the orphanage for my monthly pizza party with the kids this afternoon. That ought to cheer me up. Or at least snap me out of this feeling sorry for myself bullshit. We’ll see.

To think that only yesterday
I was cheerful, bright and gay
Looking forward to, well, who wouldn’t do
The role I was about to play

But as if to knock me down
Reality came around
And without so much as a mere touch
Cut me into little pieces

Leaving me to doubt
Talk about God in His mercy
Who, if He really does exist
Why did He desert me?

And in my hour of need
I truly am, indeed
Alone again, naturally

The worst thing about being retired is that you never get a day off. To hell with that, I took one yesterday anyway. Of course, since I don’t do much anyway it’s hard to tell the difference. In this case, the difference was that I just completely blew off walking. Other than walking to the bars I mean. I’m not crazy!

Speaking of the hike, thanks to Kevin Kim for the shout out on his blog. As I told him in the comments I am unworthy of such high praise. But I appreciate the support!

We can all use a little encouragement after all:

And oh yeah, I stole this one from Kev’s blog too:

What else? Well, we had a little aftershock at 0200 which I happened to be awake for because I was doing one of my coughing jags. Not sure what is going on with the lungs but I’m periodically hocking up gobs of phlegm and experiencing shortness of breath. Not as bad as it was a couple of years ago, but not as good as I had been doing a couple of months ago. Maybe it’s just the heat or a touch of bronchitis. I plan on getting a complete physical exam when I visit Korea next month.

Also, deafness is getting to be quite a problem for me lately. I never thought I’d hear myself say that. *ahem*

Speaking of the earthquake situation, there was another largish quake yesterday on the next island over. The Philippines sits on the infamous “ring of fire” so I guess this is nothing to get all shook up about.

Alright, well time for me to get off my lazy ass and walk the dogs. But not before leaving you some gratuitous proud dog owner photos.

Happy trails to you!

Please don’t ask me what’s on my mind
I’m a little mixed up, but I’m feelin’ fine
When I’m near that girl that I love best
My heart beats so it scares me to death!

She touched my hand what a chill I got
Her lips are like a volcano that’s hot
I’m proud to say she’s my buttercup
I’m in love
I’m all shook up
Mm mm oh, oh, yeah, yeah!

Quite an adventure yesterday climbing the rocks on Easter mountain and once we got back down, the rocks began to roll. But bottom line up front, I made it to the top.

Success was in question before I even got started. As we made our way to the drop off point in the Hashmobile I realized I must have left my walking stick back at Johannson’s. Shit! Well, I wasn’t sure I was going to attempt getting all the way up anyway, discretion being the better part of valor and all. But without my stick I knew I was fucked. I rely on it for balance going up and more importantly, as a brake on the way back down. So upon arrival I get out of the truck and I’m contemplating my next move when a fellow Hasher hands me my stick and says you left this inside. So, it seemed fated that I was going to at least attempt to climb the mountain.

And indeed it was more of a climb than a hike. Getting up required the use of hands as well as feet, which is unusual. I knew from observing the mountain from a distance that the last 1/3 of the trail would be the steepest and toughest and I was not disappointed in that regard. There were a couple of times the voice in my head was saying “fuck this!” but my response was always “too late to turn back now!” And as I mentioned at the outset, in the end I persevered.

Coming back down presented its own challenges, primarily gravity and forward momentum. But with the aid of my trusty walking stick I maintained balance and kept me feet on the ground where they belong.

So, when it was all said and done I’m glad I made the climb and will look forward to doing it again next year. Maybe.

Once back on flat ground we were awaiting the arrival of the stragglers. And then I heard a low, rolling, rumble. And suddenly there was a whole lotta shakin’ going on. Yep, an earthquake was upon us. I grew up in SoCal so it wasn’t new to me, but that feeling of helplessness in the face of Mother Nature doing her thing is something you never get used to. Some reports put the epicenter at just a few kilometers from where I stood. And at 6.1 on the Richter scale, it was quite a ride. Only lasted about 15 seconds which is a good thing given the general lack of quality in construction methods and materials in these parts. That said, news reports say 8 died and several buildings were damaged, including the terminal at Clark airport in Angeles.

Quite the day! Let’s go to the pictures:

It was a day full of challenges and excitement. Just what I needed!