Making steps in the right direction

Hold on, hear me out…

Sometimes, you have to give yourself credit. It took me two days, but I managed to jump through the hoops required to get my credit card reactivated. There was a suspicious purchase on the card, and when I reported it as unauthorized, the credit union blocked my card. I went online with them to try and resolve the situation, but was advised to call a number in the USA. I tried to call on Monday, but the automated system said the wait time to speak with an agent was over 1 hour. Um, no thanks. Granted, it was Easter Sunday there, so I kinda sorta understood. I called yesterday morning again, and this time the wait was “only” 10 minutes. When the agent came on the phone, she asked the usual questions to verify who I was, had me jump through a couple of confirmation hoops, and then told me she would transfer me to the person who handles credit card issues. Yep, another ten minutes on hold. I once again explained the situation (my card hadn’t been skimmed, like what happened in Vietnam; this was a vendor double-billing me). We agreed that my purchases would continue to be monitored on both ends and that my card would be reinstated immediately. Yep, that was the highlight of my day.

With my newly restored purchasing power ensconced in my wallet, I was able to take care of the weekly grocery shopping. On the way back home, I had my driver drop me off at Dr. Jo’s office for my third Ozempic injection. I informed her that my appetite continued to be suppressed, with an almost total elimination of between-meal snacks and a tendency to be satisfied with smaller meal portions. The only adverse side-effect so far has been bouts of acid reflux. So, I got my third shot. One more week at the low dosage, then we’ll see how I react to the big jab. Next, Dr. Jo put me on the scale: Down 2 kilograms since last week. Progress!

At the appointed hour, I attended the Alley Hideout Tuesday dart tournament. Overall, I’d rate my game mediocre, but at least I didn’t embarrass myself. Won one and lost two. It is what it is, and since I lack motivation to practice, I’m not likely to show much improvement. But chucking the arrows once or twice a week isn’t a bad change of scenery. The beer at Alley Hideout is cold and wet, just the way I like it.

After my elimination from the tourney, we popped into Gold Bar next door for our nightcap. Surprisingly busy, and we wound up seated behind the stage for the first time.

It’s all a matter of perspective, no ifs, ands, or butts about it.

Then we were homeward bound for a smoothie and a good night’s sleep.

In other news, I loved this Earthset as seen from the Artemis spacecraft:

Why is Pink Floyd playing in my head?

My pal Scott shares some of his old photo albums on Facebook, and it is nice seeing shots from the good ol’ days, most of which were before my time here. But sometimes I recognize someone in the pictures:

That’s Mountain Mama MJ and her kids, probably from around the time Scott introduced us when we ran into her on one of our hikes. I’ve always felt sorry for the children fathered by a now-deceased American, so I send her a monthly stipend to help them get by. Why he didn’t bother to get his own kids citizenship rights (like Social Security) is beyond me.

From the July 2018 LTG archives comes this post where I’m bitching about the worst Hash trail ever. Well, I’ve seen worse since then, but I was still relatively new to the Hash experience at the time. Anyway, it was days like this one that convinced me I needed to take responsibility for my own safety and well-being on the trail. So, I have no shame about taking a shortcut or making my own way as circumstances dictate. The post also mentions the opportunity I had to hook up with a couple of Hash cuties for a threesome, but I wound up bailing on that adventure as well. At least I’m consistent!

Today’s YouTube video shares five things you need to avoid to keep things hoppin’ when you hit 70 years old. I think I’m doing alright for the most part, although I probably do need to drink more water. I’m also going to have Dr. Jo revisit the meds and vitamins I’m dosing daily to make sure there are no internal conflicts. I’m trying to move past the mental stress that comes with knowing time is running out, and I think I’m doing somewhat better in that regard. I want to live to see how I feel when I turn 80!

At least I still have my sense of humor. Such as it is:

He’ll be Biden his time.
But it is the best star in the solar system!
Ain’t that the shits…

Life goes on, so I’d best get on with it. Come back for more tomorrow!

Comin’ round the mountain

Shit, I forgot what I was going to blog about today…

Oh yeah, yesterday’s Hash. All in all, it was a good one. Two of our best Hares, Leech My Nuggets and Anal Receptive, laid the trail. There were two versions, hard and easy, both right around 6K. The hard trail went up, over, and down both Easter Mountain and the Black Rock ridgeline. The easy trail went around both of those obstacles. The trails came back together for a climb at the end, but me being me, I did my own bypass of that one, too. It was hot motherfucker yesterday, and there wasn’t a lot of shade along the way, so I was pretty whupped by the time I finished. The On-Home was at a Hasher named Sully’s place in Calapandayan, nicely situated on the bay. Here are some photos from the journey:

The Hashers gathered at the VFW.
The cutie-pie contingent.
Then we loaded up in these two Jeepneys for the ride out to the starting point of the Hash: Bridge #4 in Naugsol.
Hare Leech My Nuggets was there to greet us.
Last-minute guidance before we hit the trail.
And we are On-On!
A nice aspect of the Easy trail was traversing through territory I had not seen before. At least, not that I remember.
Heading down to the riverside.
Through some tall grass.
And then into the riverbed. I was pleasantly surprised to find it devoid of water.
Exiting the riverbed required climbing up onto this rickety bridge.
Between the walls.
That mountain I didn’t climb. Maybe next year.
The Hard and Easy trails rejoined briefly.
The down after the only up I did.
The Black Rock ridge, I didn’t do either.
Another rickety bridge that held me.
Just passin’ through.
Almost On-Home.
Sully’s place.
The view from Sully’s place.
Anal Receptive setting up the ice.
Hash Gash hanging out.
Old fuckers chillin’ out.
Joining the Hares on the ice because we liked their trail.
It’s nice on ice!
And the sun goes down on another Hash Monday.
Yellow: Hard. Green: Easy. Purple: Shortcutters.

Took a trike back to Barretto and joined the after-Hash gathering at It Doesn’t Matter.

Life is good.

And that’s the tale of the Easter Monday Hash Run #1700.

And by golly, the Philippines leads the world in this catergory:

The journey continues through the July 2018 LTG archives. In this post, I share some of the devastation I experienced during my first rainy season here. And I also reveal that I’ve decided to give Marissa another chance. One mistake leads to another, I suppose.

Why, yes. Yes, I am!

Today’s YouTube video shares the success story of living a simple life in the province on a social security income of $1,400 per month. It can be done, but that’s not the life for me. I spend that much in a week.

You can laugh if you want to:

Oh shit, she’s already seen the movie! Now what?
I’m pretty sure it was the one where he learned to say “aloha.”
And now it is time to say goodbye.

I reckon I’m gonna chuck some arrows today. We’ll see how the lack of practice pays off.

The Rite Spot for Easter

I’m not a religious man, but I do maintain my rituals. And not all of them involve beer. Even on Easter Sunday, we hit the road for a Sweets Stroll. But instead of calling Swan the Candy Girl, I declared that the Easter Bunny was in the ‘hood! Here’s some of what we saw on our walk:

A dead pig…
…miraculously transformed to lechon. I’m not sure whether they wait three days before roasting.
Speaking of dying, Luisa had a nice 83-year ride before heading for heaven.
And Placido stuck around for 79 years. I hope his twin brother, Placebo, is doing well.

The last three funeral banners I’ve encountered have all been older than me, which is very rare to see. Maybe there is hope that my turn, turn, turn can be similarly delayed.

I pushed myself to climb those damn steps I’ve been avoiding, so there’s that. This is the view looking down at Swan from about halfway up.
Some of the Easter joy we delivered.

And then we changed things up by inviting Swan’s extended family to join us for Easter dinner at The Rite Spot On the Roof.

A hazy view from the roof. It’s burning season again.
Swan’s niece, Gigi, was rockin’ it.
I cooked up a big batch of chili in the crockpot. It was surprisingly popular with our guests.
Then there was dinuguan. I had the misfortune of seeing the bag of pig’s blood as this dish was being prepared. “a Filipino savory stew usually of pork offal (typically lungs, kidneys, intestines, ears, heart and snout) and/or meat simmered in a rich, spicy dark gravy of pig bloodgarlicchili (most often siling haba), and vinegar.
There was also chicken adobo. I didn’t have any yesterday, but I’ve tried it before. Not bad.
Another Filipino dish I choose not to eat is chicken feet. I’ve seen where they walk. No thanks!
Ah, roasted chicken. Now, that’s my style!
I also contributed some corn bread muffins and brownies for the feast.

We kicked things off with the traditional Easter egg hunt for the kids. We didn’t have any chocolate eggs, so we substituted candy bags left over from the morning walk.

The participants.
The search is on.
Look what I found!
Me too!
Everyone’s a winner!
The introvert?
Buddy taking in the view.
Must be dinner time.
Chowing down.
Going down.

After dinner, the Filipino adults in attendance played a weird game. Kinda like hopscotch, but with dice and drinking.

Swan put a lot of time and effort into setting this up.
Depending on where you land, someone will be drinking a shot of something.
I guess the first person to complete the circuit wins. But everyone seemed to be having a drunken good time.

That kind of fun is not my style, but I had an ice chest full of San Miguel Light to keep me company.

And a nice sky to enjoy.

The party was still going strong when I ran out of gas, so I said my goodnights and headed to the comfort of my bed.

My last shot of the night.

It was nice to see Swan enjoying some family time, and they all seemed to have fun at The Rite Spot.

Facebook memories reminded me of an incident that happened eleven years ago. I was still a smoker back then, but as a long-time resident of Korea, I tried to use my limited ability to speak the language as a sign of politeness and respect. So, I could do things like order a beer and get a pack of cigarettes in Korean. Or so I thought until that night at the local 7-Eleven store:

I went to the neighborhood 7-11 to buy some smokes. As is my custom, I told the clerk, “Dongbae Marlboro silver chuseyo.” He pointed at the black pack, and I said, “Anio, silver.” He pointed at the gold pack, and I repeated “silver”. I finally had to gesture to where the ones I wanted were. He pulled them from the rack, pointed at the word silver, and proceeded to instruct me in how to pronounce the word “silver”. Apparently, it’s “sil-buh”. Who knew? Still, it was a unique experience having a Korean try to teach me how to properly say an English word.

Good times! I quit smoking tobacco shortly thereafter.

From the July 2018 LTG archives, my first relationship in the Philippines came to an abrupt end. I was all full of wisdom and accepted that it was for the best, as we were obviously so wrong for each other. Spoiler alert: the wisdom didn’t last. Oh, and that Muslim gal I was considering never happened. How can I date someone who doesn’t enjoy grilled pork?

In today’s YouTube video, the Filipina Pea is back home in the Philippines, sharing her pasalubong with her family. The surprise encounter with her mother after not seeing her for a year was pretty hilarious. The Pea is always a fun watch.

You knew these were coming:

A coffee break chat.
Drown those sorrows in beer!
Um, Doc, that should be far-fetched. Grammar matters!

And now it is time to prepare for the Easter Monday Hash. I won’t be doing the mountain climb this year, but the “easy” trail is long (around Easter Mountain instead of over it), and it’s hot outside. That’s plenty challenging for me. Come back and read all about it here tomorrow.

The dance

It shouldn’t matter if you’re telling them, but please don’t write it wrong.

Welcome to Easter Sunday. As an answer to your prayers, I’m going to keep today’s post about yesterday as short and sweet as possible. It is a day for miracles, after all.

As is our custom for Saturday morning, we kicked things off with our Decay Dance through the streets of San Isidro.

Doing our part to promote tooth decay.
And lo and behold, we walked part of tomorrow’s “easy” Hash trail in reverse.

We started our evening of fun at Myleen’s, where, you guessed it, we dined on birria tacos. Then we moseyed up the highway to Red Bar.

One of the local expats, formerly a regular at It Doesn’t Matter, has switched his allegiance to Red Bar. As you can see, he’s a big spender, treating ALL the gals to at least two lady drinks.
We departed Red Bar at sundown and made our way to Jumpin’ Jacks for a nightcap.
Welcome to Jumpin’ Jacks!

I played some pool, winning one game and losing the other. My pool game is every bit as good as my darts, it seems. As usual, we enjoyed the ambiance and music during our visit. I was very surprised when Swan requested a second glass of wine before we departed. That’s almost unprecedented and a good indicator of how pleasant our Jumpin’ Jacks visit was last night.

We still made it home before 8:30 (hey, I’m elderly, you know), where I enjoyed a bowl of sugar-free pudding before laying my weary head down on the pillow and entering dreamland.

A couple of Facebook memories from this day in history:

Thirteen years ago, I got married in Las Vegas. It didn’t end well.
Eleven years ago, I was hanging out at Shenanigans in Itaewon with two of my favorite writers, Kevin Kim and Young Chun. Young had just published his book, “The Accidental Citizen-Soldier,” and signed my copy.

From the July 2018 LTG archives, I share my perspectives on happiness after two months in the Philippines. There are always ups and downs wherever you wake up in life. How you deal with them is on you. I’m still learning life’s lessons.

Today’s YouTube video has some scenes from one of my favorite shows as a kid, “Lost in Space.” I was too young to note the slide towards comedy, or I didn’t care, but I remember being sad when the series ended. A curse and a joy of old age is all the acquired memories.

Just some jokes before I go:

You know, the misspelling of penis kinda ruins the joke.
Eso sí que es gracioso!
The joke’s on you!

Okay, a promise is a promise. I’ll stop now. Count your blessings!

Not a bad day…

…in fact, you could call it a Good Friday!

Trying to make the best of these golden years while recognizing the limitations that come with old age has sometimes been a struggle. I think I’m doing better at finding my sweet spot. Ironically, that means giving up the sweets I’d come to know and love. The Ozempic is helping to impose the self-discipline I’d otherwise lack by eliminating my cravings for the most part. Hopefully, you’ll be seeing less of me in the future.

The group hikers gathered as usual for our bi-weekly excursion. It was a Good Friday for a hike (sorry, I’ll let that lameness go now). Another hot day (aren’t they all?), but we overcame and had a mostly pleasant 6K stroll through Calapacuan.

Me and these three. Turns out, we didn’t need the ambulance.
And away we go!
Some sweets for the sweet.
And respect for a long life that was hopefully well lived. I’m not sure why the age has been blotted out on the banner; perhaps the math was as wrong as the grammar. But she was almost 95, which is one of the oldest I’ve seen on the funeral banners.
We saw several groups of back beaters during our walk.
No idea what’s up with that mask.
Forward march!
These guys nailed it. Well, dragged it down the road anyway. I have no cross to bear.
Yes, it is currently occupied. An old woman called out “hello” as I passed by.
I like cows much better than carabaos.
A different angle on that mountain I won’t be climbing on the Easter Monday Hash.
Our journey from beginning to end.

I was on the fence about participating in the Friday dart tournament at Alley Hideout. Turns out, Jesus saved me because the bar closed for the holiday. That allowed me to leave my darts at home and enjoy a guilt-free evening on the town. I elected to visit Cheap Charlies first, and Swan consented to join me.

We shared an order of Foodies chicken quesadillas as we took in the unexpected show taking place on the highway downstairs.
We weren’t expecting this. It seems like quite a juxtaposition to see a religious parade in the bar district.
I trust Jesus was able to avoid the Hot Zone.
It was a LONG procession.
With still no end in sight.
I’m guessing carrying the cross sucks…
…but not as much as being nailed to a cross.
The last of over twenty floats goes by.

Nothing like a little free entertainment while you sip your beer.

And the best toilet view in Barretto.

We did our nightcap at Wet Spot. Or should I say Wet Spot/Green Room, since both crews are working out of WS while the renovation at GR continues. I usually limit myself to buying lady drinks for only two girls, but since I have four regulars here now, I have to double the pleasure.

And being full of the holiday spirit (or something), I had a family-sized order of pancit delivered from Sit-n-Bull for the gals to enjoy.

After fifty bucks’ worth of fun, we called it a night and headed on home.

It’s the end of June 2018 in the LTG archives. I’ve got a new best friend, a winning date with Marissa, and another broken heart. Sounds like the story of my life.

At least this story had a happy ending.

Today’s YouTube video is something a little different—the story of a Japanese man who lived alone on a deserted island for 32 years. It was by choice, and he loved it. A voice in my head kept saying, “Is this for real?” but I’ve found nothing to the contrary.

I’ve got the jokes if you’ve got the time:

I have zero sympathy. Her looks and your stupidity are a perfect match.
Sounds like a pain in the ass.
FAFO strikes again.

Hallelujah, another post has come to an end. Praise the Lord!

A Maundy Thursday

Ah, I’ll never forget those carefree days filling the boxes with my mail-ness.

I grew up in a pretty religious family, but I had never heard of “Maundy Thursday” until my first trip to the Philippines. I made the mistake of coming during Holy Week. I remember landing in Cebu, checking into my hotel, then taking a walk around the neighborhood, and just about everything was closed. I asked someone what was going on, and they gave me a look like I was stupid before saying, “Maundy.” Really? I thought it was Thursday. Anyway, the story has a happy ending— I found an open bar and even brought a girl back to the hotel that night. She was up before dawn, and I asked her what her hurry was. She told me she was going to attend the Good Friday mass. Fuck me, I said under my breath. “I already did,” she said with a shrug. Okay, that last part I just made up, but I remember thinking it’s weird to be a religious prostitute.

Yesterday’s Maundy was much more mundane. Swan and I did a 5K morning walk.

The only scene I found worthy of a photo. That’s the Alta Vista clubhouse up on the hill.
The route of our San Isidro street walk.

Later, we went into town for a foot spa.

My feet were long overdue for a good scrubbing and pedicure.

After the foot spa, we headed to Jewel Cafe for dinner. We were the only customers, and we both ordered the baby back ribs. I had a beer while we waited. And waited. I’m thinking, why is it taking so long if we are the only ones here. Then I saw what was happening. The kitchen was pumping out orders in take-out boxes, and the Grab drivers were picking them up for delivery. Ah, the 21st century. Even when you are the only one present, everyone connected is ahead of you in line. Swan was planning to meet up with a girlfriend after dinner, so we finally just asked for our food to be boxed like everyone else’s and took it with us. That’s twice I’ve managed to skip dinner since I began the Ozempic regimen.

We went to Sloppy Joe’s for the meet-up, and the joint was packed. A big pool tournament was going on, and our preferred street-side seats weren’t available. We ordered a beer and a glass of wine while we waited for the friend, and then Swan saw another friend from the neighborhood heading to the Alaska Club with her hubby, so we decided to join them there. And there I was, the only guy at a table with three Filipinas chirping away in Tagalog. Good times!

At the appointed hour, we said our goodnights and departed for home, where a bowl of sugar-free pudding was waiting for me. It served as my last supper.

Continuing on with the June 2018 LTG archives, after six weeks in the Philippines, I finally had my first date with a gal I met at Alley Cats named Marissa. Long-time readers will recall she was destined to become my first girlfriend here. It turned out to be quite the roller-coaster ride.

Wow! Look how skinny I was back then. Let’s see if I can achieve that look with the help of my new friend, Ozempic.

I’m a big “Lord of the Rings” fan, having read the books multiple times (including reading them aloud to wife #3). I also enjoyed the Peter Jackson films more than once. They were also well done. Today’s YouTube video shares a scene I admittedly missed, or at least didn’t pick up on the context of the moment. And now I have.

Funny you should say that…

I wonder what else Bob is into.
Sounds like a bunch of crap to me.
Ask her to blow you instead.

Yeah, I’ve had enough, too.

Poor little fool

Coulda fooled me!

It is pretty special to have a day on the calendar every year in your honor. But lord knows I’ve earned it. That said, my foolish life doesn’t compare with some of the idiots I encounter. With the wisdom of old age, I just tend to laugh at them these days. I don’t engage in much political discourse here at LTG. I learned long ago that there is no point in arguing politics on social media because minds aren’t going to be changed. I mean, honest discourse and sharing viewpoints are still possible even if you disagree (commenter Brian and I have had some decent back-and-forths lately), but sadly, that seems to be the exception rather than the rule. I still find it entertaining to post a political meme on Facebook just to witness the lefty heads exploding. Like that Trump quote I shared here yesterday, telling our “allies” that if they need oil, they should keep the Hormuz Straight open. We’ve got plenty of our own oil. Now, I usually save the humor until the end of the blog, but this comment (which I didn’t approve) from reader “Hugo” is worth sharing here to illustrate my point:

Dumbing down???? You’re a racist Trump supporter who is unable to think critically. I don’t think it’s possible to get any dumber than you. No wonder your family has disowned you; you’re a disgrace to anything human.

Dude, take a look in the mirror. What makes me a racist? Because I’m white, support Trump, and have different viewpoints than you? Calling someone a racist for any of those reasons makes you one. I’m from the Martin Luther King era and was raised to judge people on the content of their character, not the color of their skin. And if this comment is indicative of your character, you are the disgrace.

We’ll leave it at that. Now, back to our regular programming.

The Wednesday Walkers headed out to the old Navy base (SBMA) and did a pleasant 8K walkaround.

The fools who joined me: Scott, Swan, and Steve.
It was a road walk, circumnavigating the golf course and walking through the Binictican housing area. A road walk on SBMA can be quite pleasant because there is little traffic, and Jeepneys and trikes are not allowed.
These folks make a living collecting lost balls, um, golf balls, then reselling them to golfers.
The green, wide-open spaces.
Plodding onward in due course.
The country club.
The road ahead. The vibe here is nothing like the Philippines I’m used to.
Over the creek.
We’ve hiked that forest trail long ago and vowed we’d do it again one of these days.
Pausing for a bit with a friendly local.
Then heading on up the road.
Greeting the guards at the entrance to Binictican.
And no, we didn’t take the Easy Street.
OMG! So that’s what a sidewalk looks like!
This place is for rent. Before moving to the PI, I looked at a nice duplex in this village. But Binictican felt too much like an American subdivision (it’s a former Navy base housing area for officers and their families).
This former Navy Quonset hut has been repurposed as a coffee shop/restaurant.
Bye-bye, Binictican. Nice to see you again.
A very nice change of scenery.
And my highest step count in many moons.

But the fun wasn’t done! It being Wednesday and all, we ventured out to Baloy Beach later in the afternoon.

Toes in the sand.
Sunlight on the water.
Only one other customer was on the floating bar when we arrived, and he had tabled all the girls. Bless his heart!
He bought multiple rounds of lady drinks for all the girls, including the bartender and cashier. No idea how much he spent, but it was a lot. Honestly, I respect the guys who have a good time with the girls and spread the joy by sharing the money. Locals like me can’t keep bars like this open on our own.
One of the gals had something weird going on with her leg. Never saw anything like that before. It didn’t seem to bother her, she danced around and didn’t try to hide it nor did she appear to be in any pain. Good for her, keep on going!
A bit later, my pal Mike came aboard for a beer. Nice to see you again!
That time again.
Sun is done.
But the moon is on the rise.

And then our dinner plans hit a bump in the road. We plopped down at Treasure Island, as is our custom, only to be told there was no red wine available. It doesn’t make sense for a dining establishment to be out of wine, but so be it. We decided to walk up the road and have one of those steak dinners at Viking Resort. But when we arrived, karaoke music was blasting at full volume. I found that irksome, but this is the Philippines. I don’t have to listen to that shit while I’m eating, though, so we moved on, then grabbed a trike for Mango’s. And guess what? The waitress said she was out of red wine. (queue up: take a deep breath, relax, and accept the Filipino way). Luckily, the manager, someone I’ve known for years, was standing nearby, and I said to her, How can you not have red wine? She responded, “We have it”, and took the waitress with her to the stockroom. She returned with a big bottle of red wine, and the evening was saved.

We enjoyed our standard Mango’s fare of grilled pork chops.

Then it was time to head home for a strawberry-banana smoothie and some blissful sleep.

I woke in time to see the moon go down this morning:

The way it looked from the patio.
The zoom view.
Going down…
…by the dawn’s early light.

In other news, it’s official. I’m elderly.

The Philippine government says so. I’m also allegedly entitled to discounts on meds and groceries.

This wasn’t my idea; Swan did all the paperwork required to have it issued. I’m not sure I’ll take advantage of it because, from everything I’ve read, only citizens are entitled to the discounts. Not worth getting deported over.

It’s still June 2018 in the LTG archives, and I’m starting off my second month in the Philippines by finally securing the deal on a house to rent in Alta Vista. Not the one I thought I was getting, but one that was good enough under the circumstances.

I wound up spending three years of my life there.

For today’s YouTube video, we’ll take a trip back in time and take a gander at life in Olongapo during the Navy days. I’m told by the Navy veterans (and there are a lot of them living here) that Subic Bay was everyone’s favorite port of call.

Now for some funny business:

A day late, but this is a post about yesterday, so…
You can tell there is a difference between tails and tales.
Yep, it’s the Filipina way to take care of her man.

And that, my friends (and enemies), is all I’ve got for today. Let’s try again tomorrow.

Man, it’s been a LONG time since I’d heard this one. Damn, that shoe is a good fit.

Dumbing down

I scored some corn tortillas for Swan. Homemade birria tacos are on the horizon.

They say it’s the little things in life that tell the bigger story. If that’s the case, I’m getting dumber by the day. Every Tuesday morning, my driver picks us up for the grocery-shopping excursion to Olongapo. As we neared our destination, I suddenly realized I had no means of payment because I’d forgotten to put my credit card in my wallet before leaving home (for security, I only carry it when I plan to use it). So, we had to make a U-turn on the highway and go back home to get it. This caused additional stress because I needed to finish shopping in time to make it to my 10 a.m. appointment with Dr. Jo. Stupid is as stupid does. Anyway, it all worked out. I gave my driver some additional pesos for the extra fuel expended and arrived at Dr. Jo’s with five minutes to spare.

I received my second injection of Ozempic and reported no adverse side effects other than some occasional acid reflux. Dr. Jo advised that this is a common reaction. My appetite seems somewhat repressed, at least to the extent that my craving for between-meal snacks has been, for the most part, eliminated. I was a little disappointed that I only lost 1.4 pounds last week, but progress is progress, I suppose.

At beer o’clock, I made my way to Alley Hideout for the Tuesday blind-draw dart tournament. And as fate would have it, I once again drew Amie as my partner. We once again threw mediocre darts, winning one of our three matches before elimination. Still, playing with Amie, I feel no pressure as she takes it all in stride and enjoys herself, win or lose.

I’m still not feeling much passion for the game, but I’m not giving up yet.

Swan was attending a gathering of friends, so I did a solo nightcap at Gold Bar before calling it a night and dragging my sorry ass home. Probably the smartest thing I did all day.

I posted this on Facebook and more liberal heads than usual exploded:

We did what had to be done. Now you do you.

From the June 2018 LTG archives, almost a month in the Philippines, and I STILL haven’t found a girl. In this post, I share my observations on the dating game as played in my new homeland.

Today’s YouTube video discusses the state of emergency in the Philippines. Rising prices here have a significantly greater impact on the working poor population. I’m hoping things calm down soon. I heard a rumor that the government may declare a lockdown to reduce energy consumption. Crazy times.

The laughs are still free:

Yes.
He needs to find a pensioner.
This joke should have been aborted.

I’m still smart enough to know when it is time to end a post like this one. Done!

Not a lot of Hashing

Of course, my brain seems to be emptying out these days. I guess that’s one way to lose weight.

Yesterday’s Hash Run #1699 is in the books. A portion of the short trail happened to intersect with my chosen path (the My Bitch trail), so in that sense, I was On-On. From what I’ve seen, the long trail was an ass-kicker, including a climb to the Kalaklan Ridge and a steep and slippery descent. I noticed quite a few Hashers had dirt on their backsides from sliding down on their ass. Glad I missed out on that fun!

The trail began and ended at the Hare’s house (Tiny Cunt) located at the far end of Rizal Extension. That is my least favorite area to Hash because it is hard to access without a vehicle. My plan was to walk from my place to Tiny Cunt’s, then leave the Circle early and walk back to town. As it turned out, not far down the road, a trike dropped a passenger (many trikes can’t make it up the steep road, so they are hard to find), and we provided the driver a fare back to It Doesn’t Matter. I’d call that a win-win.

Once again, BF’s Wet Spot and Cums Alone joined me on my trail.
On the Bitch.
Next Monday is the annual Easter Mountain trail. The hard trail climbs the mountain, the easy trail goes around it.
A hello and cookies for Mountain Mama Onelia.
Evidence that we were indeed on the Hash trail, albeit briefly and in the wrong direction.
The hazy day view from here.
Heading On-Home.

During the Hash Circle, Cums Alone was recognized for her 75th run with the Subic Bay Hash House Harriers.

I presented her with the commemorative headband.
Then it was time to head back down to town before the sun was done.
Unexpectedly catching that trike cut a good 2K off my trail. Oh well, 4K was enough.

A bigger than usual after-Hash gathering at IDM.

The Hash Gash enjoying some food and beverages.

I declared it a “cheat night” and went to buy some ice cream. Swan started flirting with the trike drivers. Just kidding about that last part, but I did enjoy some ice cream for the first time in a week. And that’s how the Hash Monday went down.

Four years ago, I was the most popular (and only) customer at the Outback Billabong bar.

My friend, Bhel, was the bartender there back then. When she left, I stopped going.

It’s June 2018 in the LTG archives, and the SBH3 Hash trail was so fun it had me in stitches. Fucking barbed wire. I’ve had some cuts, scratches, and bruises over the years, but luckily this only happened once.

Blood on the trail.
Getting things sewn up in the ER.

Today’s YouTube video attempts to answer the question of whether expats are happier in Thailand or the Philippines. I think it does a pretty good job of citing the strengths of both countries, and it all comes down to what works best for you.

And now on with the funny stuff:

What rhymes with orange?
Um, dude, did you look at what you are talking to?
Welcome to my world, kid.

And now it is on with my Tuesday. I reckon there are some darts and beers in my future.

Goodbye, Arizona

Nothing quite like being part of Generation Grumpy.

The first time I said goodbye to Arizona was in 1983 when I moved to Arkansas. I said goodbye again yesterday when the losers on the Arizona floating bar couldn’t be bothered to step away from their card game and send the raft to pick me up. Fuck off, you cunts!

My farewell photo. As you can see, there were no other customers on board. I guess they like it that way. I won’t be back.

Not much to say about the rest of the day, which I guess, comparatively speaking, is a good thing.

The Sunday Sweet Stroll was a success.

We headed out for the far side of town at beer o’clock only to be disappointed upon arrival. I stood on the beach waving my arms and shouting, but the crew never looked up from the card table. Swan was the first to say, “screw them, let’s just go.” So we headed back up the highway and popped into Red Bar.

A large gathering at the “backslappers table” (sitting with manager, Cliff). One of the guys was flying out today and bought two rounds of drinks for everyone (including Swan and me). I’d never met him before, but thanked him and wished him well on his journey back to Finland.

We do our Sunday nightcap at Jumpin’ Jacks, and I figured I’d just order something off their menu for my Sunday dinner (Swan had eaten some Filipino street food at Red Bar). As I perused the menu, the manager informed me that everything was out of stock except chicken fingers and fries. Oh, well, fine, I’ll have that. A few minutes later, she returned and said, sorry, that’s not available either. Apparently, they had a big night on Saturday, and this being the Philippines, they hadn’t restocked for anyone wanting to eat on Sunday. I’d used up my daily allotment of irritation, so I just shrugged it off. Then again, I can’t remember the last time I skipped dinner. Does that qualify as intermittent fasting?

After some beers (wine for Swan) and a game of pool, we called it a night and headed home. If that’s as bad as days get around here, I’m doing alright.

It’s the final day of May 2018 in the LTG archives. I learned that a good friend in South Carolina has succumbed to cancer, I was throwing awesome darts, and getting rejected by the women I was attracted to. I guess you could say I was settling into life in the Philippines.

Meanwhile, people are starting to panic some over the looming energy crisis. Word is that the fuel supplies will be running out next month. Swan is shopping for solar generators so we can at least run our fans and charge our phones. I’m remaining confident that oil will be flowing again soon, but who knows? Today’s YouTube video is warning folks of the troubles on the horizon. Hope she is wrong.

Laugh while you still can:

It will be nice to meat her.
It’s snot bad.
Have a blast!

And now, another Monday, another Hash. Today’s trail begins and ends at the end of Rizal Extension. That’s a non-starter for me. I’ll walk from my house to the On-Home (Tiny Cunts house), have a beer or three, then walk back down Rizal to Barretto. I’m channeling Frank Sinatra and doing it my way.

Prescott, Arizona, was the best place I ever lived. I saw Rod Hart play in a local bar, and Junior Bonner was filmed there.

’70s in the 70s

If the shirt fits, wear it!

Old age comes with its aches and pains, but it also provides a lifetime of memories to look back on. In many ways, this blog has become the story of my life. As I’ve been journeying through the archives, I often come upon a post that reminds me of events I’d otherwise have forgotten. One of these days, I hope to gather the best of these stories in a book on the off-chance that someday, somewhere, someone will ask, “Who was that guy?” Hey, it could happen, even if it is in the form of don’t be like that guy. We shall see.

The story of yesterday isn’t that special, but I was still glad to live it. We kicked it off as usual with the Decay Dance, but since we still had candy left at the end of our regular route, we extended the journey another couple of kilometers.

Swan is the godmother of that toddler in front.
The requisite Easter Mountain shot.
Our longer trail included the seldom-crossed Bridge #2.
A rare Mary Poppins sighting.

So, the big news for our Saturday night was an invitation for Swan to join in a “’70s night” event at the Palm Tree Resort. There is some history involved that makes the story a little more interesting. Swan used to be the hotel receptionist, and her now-deceased former boyfriend, Allan, managed the upstairs bar/restaurant. That’s where I met them both, as I was a semi-regular (weekly) visitor at Palm Tree. I don’t know the circumstances, and I’m not passing judgment, but when Allan died, Swan did not receive the compensation she felt entitled to. After I began my relationship with Swan, she was boycotting Palm Tree, so I haven’t visited there for a couple of years now. I was a bit surprised when Swan accepted the invite and asked me to attend with her. I guess it was more about reconnecting with her former co-workers. So, I got to revisit one of my old favorite haunts last night.

Swan’s outfit for the night. She would have fit right into the ’70s as I remember them. Well, bell-bottoms would have worked too, but where are you gonna find a pair of those?

The Palm Tree gathering was scheduled to commence at 7:30, which is close to when I usually finish my night out. What to do? Well, we started a little later, and I paced myself. We decided we’d arrive at 6 and eat, then take it from there. On our way to Palm Tree, I suggested we take a break from the walk in the air-conditioned Gold Bar.

We had Gold Bar to ourselves, so I had Swan pose on the dance stage.

Then we crossed the highway, hit the ATM, and climbed the stairs to the bar/restaurant at Palm Tree.

As was my custom back in the good ol’ days, I grabbed a table on the patio.
I love the views from there.
The restaurant was quiet inside when we arrived, but as the evening progressed, they had a fair number of diners.
And surprise, surprise, Palm Tree had San Mig Zero. Three of them. And now they have zero Zero.
I enjoyed a bowl of seafood chowder for my dinner.
And then Swan’s lady friends arrived to celebrate the glory days that I lived through, but they could only imagine.

I moved to the bar and let the gals enjoy their reunion. There was a DJ, and he was playing the classic rock tunes suitable for the occasion. And then some dancing broke out.

Keep on rockin’ me, baby!

Palm Tree has long been noted for its fresh-baked breads. From the bar, I had a clear view of the kitchen and saw the work in progress.

No one was loafing.
Swan and her friend Mercy came to check on me at the bar, and I was still doing alright. But all good things must end, so I suggested we pay our tab and depart.
It’s kind of sad, but these days this is a late night for me. Then again, my early-to-bed, early-to-rise schedule seems to work to my advantage.

So, that extra hour last night didn’t faze me, though I did have some leg pain this morning. I think that just comes with being elderly.

With gas prices continuing to rise, trike drivers are looking for cheaper solutions:

So, Lucky can’t talk, but he’s already told me this in his own way several times:

Fifteen years ago, I’d just moved into the house I bought in South Carolina.

The house featured my own personal dart bar setup. Gone but not forgotten.

From the May 2018 LTG archives, I’m one week into my new life in the Philippines. Throwing some awesome darts, meeting new women, and discovering the joys and pitfalls of small-town living. And I wouldn’t have remembered meeting MJ but for this post. I don’t know why or what happened, but we never connected and then one day she just disappeared from Barretto. Maybe she met that “rich” foreigner she’d been looking for. John and Mango wound up getting married. Sadly, John was diagnosed with Parkinson’s disease and it progressed to the point of being totally disabling. I understand he moved to Mango’s province and she and her family are taking care of him there. And life goes on, until it doesn’t.

What could have been and never was.

I don’t even think about it anymore, but you don’t flush toilet paper in the Philippines. My housekeeper empties the bathroom trash bin daily, so it’s not as gross as it could be. Anyway, today’s YouTube video explains why toilets work (or don’t) the way they do here.

Now, for some shitty humor:

That’s no joke, but I lost the link to the story that accompanied the photo. I still find it worthy of a smile. The breast dentist ever!
Love, American-style.
Sorry if you heard that one before. Still funny though.

And that’s all I’ve got for today.

With a dash of difference…

…as seasoning for more of the same.

You’ve got to be yourself; everyone else is taken.

What’s different about a morning hike and an evening out in Barretto? Nothing really, except for where we did our Friday group hike way out on the far side of Subic, in Barangay Aningway-Sacatihan, and trekked to Balon Falls. It’s been over a year since we last enjoyed this adventure. It’s dry season, so the creek was low and there wasn’t much of a waterfall to see, but it was still a pleasant journey along the waterside. We also hiked through a friendly Aeta village and enjoyed interacting with the locals. It was a refreshing change of pace.

My fellow travelers. An advantage of low turnout is that we all fit into Scott’s car, and we can venture out to places that can only be reached by vehicle.
The way ahead.
Who knew we came in a bag? Or maybe we wind up in one.
The first of several creek crossings. I didn’t get my feet wet until the final one.
Steps to nowhere. This used to be a bridge.
A Swan on the rocks.
On the path to contentment.
Another water crossing.
Where pineapples come from.
There were no falls, but some wet feet.
The final creek crossing.
Another carabao encounter. This one gave me the evil eye, but I made my way around him without incident.
Into the village we go. The faded paint says: Aeta Cultural Heritage Center. It appeared to have been repurposed as someone’s living quarters.
Bath time.
Laundry day.
Scrubbing the pots and pans.
Aeta children enjoying their sweets.
Little piggies waiting for market.
The final climb of our hike.
A pause at the top.
Strolling through the hilltop village.
Dispensing sweets for the sweet.
We were looking for a different way back down, and hired this youngster as our guide.
Walk this way.
More kids to please.
Hail Mary!
I took this photo so I’d remember the name of where we were.
It’s rare to see a horse in these parts, but here you go.
Almost done with our journey.
Back to where we started.
It wasn’t long (around 4K), but it was pleasant.

Back home for a nice nap, a shit post, then a shower and a shave. I wasn’t in the mood to play darts, so I skipped the Friday tourney this week. Instead, we began our evening out at Red Bar.

The view from my patio stool at Red Bar.

When it was time to eat, we headed up the highway to satisfy Swan’s craving addiction for birria tacos. Myleen’s is the only place in town to get them these days. Swan has the recipe now, but we need to find some corn tortillas to work with.

As seen on our walk along the highway to Myleen’s.
As seen on our plate at Myleen’s. They were every bit as good as they look.

We decided to finish our evening out on the far side of town at Queen Victoria. As always, it was an enjoyable time there. Manager Jake has really turned the place around. And that’s where another day in paradise came to a close.

Back to the May 2018 LTG archives, and I’ve rented my first residence in the Philippines–a one-bedroom apartment on Baloy. A step in the right direction, but my future was later found in Alta Vista.

Things are getting a little crazy here with fuel prices doubling since January. A liter of gasoline is now over 100 pesos (around $6.50 per gallon). Diesel fuel is even more expensive. This morning, Swan’s sister couldn’t find a Jeepney available to take her to work in Olongapo. On my walk, I noticed many Jeepneys parked along the side streets. It makes sense…fuel has doubled, fares remain the same. What’s the point of driving all day if it is going to cost you money? I don’t know what the fix will be, but it better come soon, or the poor folks’ suffering will be getting worse.

Today’s YouTube video discusses some more of the impact of the current energy crisis. I’m glad I don’t rely on public transport or have any flights scheduled. It’s a crazy time.

Now is a good time for some humor:

She’s got some skilled fingers there, Cedric. See what else she can do with them!
Took me a bit longer than it should have to get this one.
And this one was hard on my weary brain. But really, who nowadays recognizes Johan?

And that’s the story of my slightly different day. Got something a tad different in store for this evening as well. Tell you all about it tomorrow.

Unsurprisingly

Gas is going through the roof here. Sadly, the only way to get to the Pinatubo Brewery in San Marcelino is to drive. Gas or beer? Well, glad I don’t have to decide, I can walk to my favorite Barretto hangouts.

It will come as no surprise to learn that there was nothing surprising about my Thursday. That won’t stop me from posting about it, but at least today’s diary entry will be short and sweet.

Saw this sign on the morning dog walk, advertising a lot for sale here in Alta Vista. I’d already taken a look before I saw that “viewing is strictly by appointment only.” Damn, I closed my eyes and walked away.
A boring morning Barretto street walk to get my steps in.
Spent some time at Cheap Charlies at beer o’clock. Not sure what happened, but there seems to have been a complete turnover in the waitress staff there.

Then we moved on to Wet Spot for our nightcap. And that’s all there was to it. Yeah, maybe it is surprising to have a more boring day than usual.

The appetite remains more or less suppressed. A couple of pandesal biscuits for breakfast. A pulled pork sandwich after the hike (but I didn’t eat the bun). And four or five chicken fingers at the dinner hour. None of the usual between-meal snacks, although I did have a strawberry-banana smoothie (made with yogurt instead of ice cream) as a before-bedtime treat.

Well, they left litter off the “cons” list, but the good here still outweighs the bad, IMHO.

I try to avoid politics here at LTG for the most part, but sometimes I can’t resist:

Of course, the Republicans lack the balls to push this much-needed legislation to passage. I wonder who’s paying for those “no” votes?

Ten years ago, I met a gal with a heart of stone while hiking in Seoul:

She didn’t say no when I asked to take a photo with her.

It’s still May 2018 in the LTG archives, but at least now I’m having a good day in the Philippines. Of course, wherever you are, your happiness depends on you. I’m getting better at accepting the way things are. Not exactly serenity, but I’ve been worse.

I think the only episodes of “90-Day Fiancé” I ever watched were the ones with Big Ed and Rose. At the time, I considered Ed an ignorant loser. In today’s YouTube video, Smart Girl Philippines highlights what Ed got wrong. I never heard the epilogue to the story, but I’m sure Rose came out of it just fine.

Let’s end this on a happy note:

That can give you a sinking feeling.
Wow, I’d never thought of that before. Damn.
Get yourself a bakla.

Yeah, this post sucks. So, we’ll leave it at that and try to do better tomorrow.

Chip Taylor passed away yesterday. I never knew who he was, but reading his obituary and Wikipedia page today was a voyage of discovery. Here’s the first song of his I ever heard. Man, the 60s were a groovy time to be alive.

Dodging a bull it.

As seen in the men’s room at Viking Resort. I’ll take that as a sign!

So, here we go with another day in the life. This could be a false positive, but I noticed some changes in my eating habits yesterday that might be a sign the Ozempic has already started to kick in. After my 7K hike yesterday morning, I was served a meat pie that Swan had prepared for me. It is one of her specialties, and as usual, it was very good. I ate less than half of it. I had a delicious steak dinner at the Viking Resort restaurant, and didn’t leave much in the way of leftovers. But when we got home, I had zero craving for my usual sweet bedtime snack (I had stocked up on sugar-free pudding to replace my ice cream addiction). I honestly don’t remember the last time I didn’t indulge my sweet tooth after a night out. Yeah, it is too soon to tell, but it does seem my appetite is being suppressed. And since I have no willpower to resist hunger pangs, that’s a good thing! Here’s hoping I’m on the right track, especially if this is happening with a low dose of Ozempic.

I messaged the Wednesday Walkers yesterday morning to say I wasn’t feeling well (nasal congestion and sneezing fits) and wouldn’t be participating in the hike. Then, before the start time, I told myself I needed to man up and push myself out of my comfort zone if I was serious about reaching my weight-loss goals. And so I put on the hiking shoes and hit the road.

Steve was the only other Wednesday Walker to participate yesterday. It also happened to be his 74th birthday. Good on you, Steve!
We did a mostly flat 7K stroll through the Naugsol Valley.
And then this guy appeared out of nowhere, put his head down, and came at me. I took off across the field to escape, and luckily, he ran out of rope before he caught me. That’s not the way I wanted to elevate my heart rate.

Ever since those two AC Hashers got attacked and hospitalized by an angry carabao, I’ve been wary when I encounter one. This was the first time one came at me aggressively.

I lived to see a tree I liked.
Peaceful valley living.
This kubo on a 200-square-meter lot could be mine for only $9,000. Tempting, but there is no road access for vehicles other than trikes.
I used to see this guy when I walked past his compound. Ten years older than me. RIP.
And a bit further up the road, another funeral banner. He was younger than me.
Here’s hoping for many more trails to come in my 70s.

I invited Steve, who lives on Baloy, to join us on Kokomo’s floating bar so I could buy him a beer for his birthday.

At the appointed hour, I see this guy seeming towards the floating bar.
Yep, it was Steve getting in a birthday swim. He’s going strong at 74.
A pretty good crowd at the bar this week.
A bit later, Steve’s girl, Viola, joined us.
Kept my eye on this orb.
That sinking feeling…
And then an explosion of light and color. Well done!

Steve and Viola invited us to join them for dinner at the Viking Resort. When he mentioned Viking offered a steak dinner for only 550 pesos, I couldn’t say no. I hadn’t been to Viking for a couple of years (we used to Hash there occasionally), but hadn’t really ordered a meal there before.

The steak wasn’t as thick as the ones at Jewel, but it was every bit as tasty and a much better bargain price. I enjoyed it very much, and we now have a new destination when we crave a steak dinner.
Viola’s brother and daughter also joined in the birthday dinner.
Happy birthday to you!

I’d call that a good day.

Facebook memories took me back to a dinner gathering from thirteen years ago.

A galbi dinner with the wife and friends in Myeong-dong. A lifetime ago.

On with May 2018 in the LTG archives. It’s my last day in Korea. I wrap things up in two posts: “The End of Days” and “It’s Time.” One life ends, and another begins.

Today’s YouTube video offers up five signs that you might be an alcoholic. By this standard, I am not. Yes, I drink beer every day. But I’m in control for the most part. I have a narrow window, usually between 5 and 8 pm, when I imbibe. I have no desire to drink in the morning. I rarely get drunk-drunk (falling down or floored), so I feel like I am maintaining control of my drinking rather than my drinking controlling me. Beer is a part of my life that I enjoy, and like my father, I plan to drink it until the day I die (he made it to 83).

Humor time:

Reminds me of those happy times in Arkansas. “I’m fixin’ to go to the store. Can I carry ya there?” Um, why don’t we drive…
Hmm, better than brownies?
Yeah, the bar girls get a kick out of rubbing my beer belly. We’ll see how long that lasts.

And now to get on with the rest of this day I’ve been gifted.

Flinging the arrows

Whatever it takes to get you down the road.

A few days ago, Kevin Kim wrote a post called “The Basic Human Sin.” If you missed it, go ahead and give it a read. I’ll wait. So, I’ve often mentioned my fantasy about living a “do-over” life when the one I’m currently living comes to an end. Kevin, bless his heart, has always pointed out in the comments how unrealistic and unworkable a do-over life would be. Basically, once you correct one fuck-up, your future life would be unrecognizable, so you’d no longer be doing a do-over; you’d have a blank sheet for new mistakes. Kevin also pointed out the inherent selfishness of the do-over scheme— trying to fix your life would inevitably change the lives of innocent bystanders, and not always for the better. In my defense, the do-over fantasy was just my way of calming my brain at night to help me get to sleep. Knowing that it would not work the way I imagine takes away a goodly portion of the comfort I seek.

So, I woke up around 3 a.m. this morning and was having trouble getting back to sleep. For whatever reason, I started thinking about traveling back in time and reliving my life from that point forward, knowing what I know now. I don’t have a time machine, of course, but I imagined a psychic power capable of transporting you by viewing an old photograph of a moment in time. Yeah, none of it makes sense, but it was three in the morning, and I couldn’t sleep. I thought of the picture I posted here a few days ago:

It’s 1976. I’m 21 years old, a married father of one daughter, and live in Westminster, California.

So, I started thinking about reliving my life from there. It’s great to be young again with the whole future ahead of you. But then I started to think about the ramifications of changing things that Kevin warned me about. My son was born two years later, and we moved to Prescott, Arizona. It was there that my spouse told me she no longer wanted to be a wife and mother, and left me to raise two kids (aged five and three) on my own. Could I have done more to save the marriage and the life we had shared? If I had, she would have missed out on the love of her life, with whom she’s been married for over forty years. I could have avoided the heartbreak that came with losing my next love, but, as I wrote in a post about her, “The Road Not Taken,” everything that flowed from meeting KaraLynne would never have happened. And almost all of that was good. Like meeting my soulmate and angel on earth, Linda Ketner. Needless to say, sleep eluded me, but it turns out Kevin was right about what he wrote. I’m glad I lived it and didn’t miss it, pain and all.

Okay, back to the real world. After grocery shopping yesterday, I visited Dr. Jo for my first Ozempic injection. She is starting me out on a low dosage for the first four weeks, which will give my body the chance to acclimate to the drug. Dr. Jo says the incidents of bad side effects like stomach paralysis usually occur when people begin the regimen at too high a dose level. Nothing negative to report so far, and as this article makes clear, healthy habits and lifestyle choices remain important when using Ozempic. My weekly injection cost me 3400 pesos (around $60). The price will go up as the dosages increase. I don’t intend to be a long-term user, I just need a kick in the butt to drop some pounds ASAP.

I practiced darts at home in the afternoon and threw surprisingly well, so I was feeling confident as we headed out to Alley Hideout for the Tuesday dart tournament. Warming up at the bar, my throws were shit again. I drew Troy, an experienced and solid player, as my partner. We both joked that we’d be the first eliminated from the tournament. We weren’t. A crap first round knocked us into the losers’ bracket, where we won our next match. But it was back to missing in our next games, so we didn’t make it to the money round. If I decide to continue playing, I’m going to need to work on more consistency.

That’s me, chucking the arrows.

I did bring a new shirt home from the bar:

The front…
…and the back.

I was whupped after my whuppin’ in darts, so we headed home for some smoothies and a restless night’s sleep. At least I did some thinking, something I don’t try much lately.

I’m glad not to be living in the USA. If I left the Philippines, I wouldn’t go back there. I’d probably give Vietnam or Cambodia a shot. Don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere. I’m as happy here as I would be somewhere else.

Here are the countries my fellow Americans are fleeing to.

A Facebook memory from three years ago serves as a good reminder of why I choose to stick with beer.

After a night of gin and sodas, I did a faceplant in the street while exiting the trike that brought me home.

From the May 2018 LTG archives, my farewell luncheon ceremony courtesy of the DHRM team and 8th Army. It was a good (second) ending to my career, and the memories will last as long as I do.

For today’s YouTube video, here’s a doctor who is incensed about GLP-1 “madness,” and he is so disgusted that he wants to leave the USA. Everyone is entitled to their opinion. And don’t let the door hit you on the way out.

I’ll be fat and happy for now:

Hard times.
My whole world is spinning…
Shit! Can you go to hell for bad grammar, too?

And that’s it for now. Time for me to get back to living the best life ever!

Our paths may never cross again
Maybe my heart will never mend
But I'm glad for all the good times
Cause you've brought me so much sunshine
And love was the best it's ever been

I wouldn't have missed it for the world
Wouldn't have missed loving you, girl
You've made my whole life worthwhile with your smile
I wouldn't trade one memory
'Cause you mean too much to me
Even though I lost you, girl
I wouldn't have missed it for the world

Giving it what I got

My life’s road, my rules.

I made it through another Hash Monday alive, so I ain’t complaining. As usual, I did it my way. Started with a walk from my house to the start, then I picked up the Hare’s (Kermit the Frog) short trail from there. It began with a climb that was a lot harder than I remembered, or perhaps it was harder because I’m not as strong as I once was. Either way, I pushed myself and slowly made it to the top. I’ll call that a victory for the elderly!

I arrived at the trailhead five minutes before the scheduled 2 pm departure. Many of my fellow Hashers had elected to start early and had already hit the trail. No big deal, I was going my own way anyhow.
This is the option I took. I’m not sure I’d call it fun, but it was challenging enough for me.
Let the climbing begin! Demented Dickhead and Cums Alone joined me for the adventure.
Upsy-daisy…
I guess that’s not a daisy, but I liked it enough to pause for a photo.
We hit a wall, but made it through.
Things finally started to level out.
Well, there were still some elevation gains to be conquered, but nothing like that first hill.
A climb does have its rewards.
A beautiful day in the barrio we call Barretto.
Then we made our way back down to the real world.
My trail came in at 4K.
The Hash Gash hanging out at the Hotel Bella Monte On-Home venue.
There were some old guys there, too.
Speaking of old guys, these are the three living legends of the Subic Bay Hash House Harriers. Pubic Head, Queen Ass Wipe, and Road Whore, each with more than 1000 runs.
It’s nice on ice!

And as usual, there was some after-Hash revelry at It Doesn’t Matter:

Enjoy the life you have.
Through the years. Every 100 runs, the Hash issues a celebratory hat. These are the ones I’ve been around for since joining the Hash in 2018. Yesterday’s run was number #1698, but the hats commemorating the upcoming 1700th Hash were on sale, so I picked mine up early.

And so ended another day in the Hash.

It is now May 2018 in the LTG archives, and as I’m making final preparations for the big move to the PI, I look back on the other moves I’ve made in life. Moving from Arizona to Arkansas was *almost* as culturally challenging as the move from Virginia to Korea twenty years later. Living in Korea was life-changing. And the rest, as they say, is history.

Today’s YouTube video is one I could relate to: Fat Man Walking. I’m taking some drastic steps to change the equation. We’ll see soon how that works out for me.

And now for some more of what my twisted mind finds funny:

As long as you don’t split infinitively.
Well, if you are out of beer, at least you didn’t get bombed.
Abbot and Costello did this first (and better).

And there you have it, assuming “you” or anyone else is out there. I’ll likely keep plugging away regardless. I’m on a mission!

Still going

The look on my face when the current me travels back to 1976 and tells the me at 21 about all the shit that’s to come over the next 50 years.

What a long, strange trip it’s been that brought me to this moment in time. Despite the scars, it is good to be here. I may not be making the most of it, but I’m doing the best I can, while I can. I’m not the man I used to be, but the man I am can still find pleasure in the simple things. That’s enough.

Here are a few pics I took on the Sunday Sweets Stroll:

Some ups and downs, but mostly flat.

Actually, it was flatter than usual. I’m still not feeling 100% right, and my lightheadedness and laziness lack of energy convinced me to forgo the stair climb near the end of the hike.

Caught this guy shamelessly stroking his cock.
Giving unto others is candy at its best.

It’s not about changing the world, just making it a little sweeter.

The Sunday routine still involves a trip to the Arizona floating bar.

A busy afternoon on Barretto Beach.
Waiting for my raft transport to arrive.
And unlike the previous two weeks, there were quite a few customers on board.
Surprise, surprise! They even had San Mig Zero. I asked the bartender where she got it, and she said, “The storage room.” Will that be the last Zero I enjoy in this lifetime? (besides the three others I had last night).
Oh, and this girl followed me there.
The sun, the clouds, the mountains, and the water.
Looking out at the Kalaklan Ridge.
I was curious about that group in the corner. Lots of younger Filipinos drinking large and expensive (frozen margaritas), a demographic you don’t normally see on the floating bars.

And then the big spender funding all that fun came over and introduced himself. Joe is a fellow retired American who has lived in the Philippines for several years, but moves around every few months. He said he came to Barretto four months ago because his wife is from this area. All those young Filipinos were the wife’s nieces and nephews.

Nice to meet you, Joe! We are now friends on Facebook, so we might have another meet-up one of these days.
The sun went down behind the clouds. Oh well.
The banana boats were out in full force.
Back on the beach.

Without our John’s place routine, Sunday dinner is hit-or-miss. I thought we’d do our Red Bar stop, then order something from Jewel Cafe for delivery there. But Red Bar uses the Foodies menu, so that was fine with us, too. Swan had kare-kare, and I had quesadillas and chicken wings. I didn’t think about taking a photo.

I’ve only had four of these so far. I’m such an American!

Then we moved on to Jumpin’ Jacks for our usual Sunday nightcap.

And as usual, we enjoyed the music and friendly vibes during our visit. We should really come here more often.

And so another day in paradise came to an end.

From the April 2018 LTG archives, I write about my goodbye weekend in Seoul in a post called “Letting Go.” Lots of good times and memories, including a final climb up to the Seoul Tower on Namsan with Kevin Kim, partying with the Shenanigans crowd, a dart tourney, recognition from the Seoul International Dart League, and a stroll along the Han River. Damn, I miss those days. But when one life ends, another begins. And here I am still living it almost eight years later.

In today’s YouTube video, Reekay discusses world events and their potential impact on the Philippines. Gas prices are up significantly, the dollar is worth over 60 pesos now, and China might be dissuaded from invading Taiwan (with the Philippines being collateral damage). Time will tell what happens next.

Please humor me:

Hard to argue with that logic.
You don’t have to shout about it, pussy!
I don’t get lit, either.

Another day, another post. When will it end? You never know.

Dancing in the streets

A one-of-a-kind man who lived life to the fullest. May he always be an inspiration to those he leaves behind.

This relaxed and laid-back retired life I’m living suits me just fine. As shallow and repetitive as it may appear to others, it works for me. I’m comfortable in my routines, and my only goal in life is to keep on living this way for as long as possible. Granted, it does not make for exciting blog content, but documenting my life story daily is part of who I am. So, let’s get on with it, shall we?

Saturday morning is all about doing our Decay Dance for the children of San Isidro and vicinity.

The Candy Girl is ready to roll!
Smokin’ in Marian Hills.
Three of our regulars patiently await our arrival.
This family compound is near the end of our trek. The kids here are always polite and thankful.
Stocking up on some fresh fruit and veggies before heading home.

When it was time to head out for our evening in Barretto, I gave Swan three dining options: Harley’s, Mango’s, or Foodies. She picked Harley’s, so we were off to Baloy.

The counter seats we normally prefer were taken, so we grabbed a nearby table.
Our bay view.
This is why Swan wanted to go to Harley’s; she was craving the mixed grill plate.
I went with the pork chops. And for the record, I only had a couple of bites of the mashed potatoes.
The only downside of Harley’s is that you can’t see the sunset from there. But it occurred to me that it wouldn’t be a problem from the roof of the Central Park Reef Hotel (you can see across the way).

So, we paid our tab, grabbed a trike, and headed to Central Park.

Looking down on the bay.
Swan was a happy camper.
The Barretto view from here.

Part of small-town living is running into people you know. A friend of Swan’s came in with her boyfriend, and we invited them to join us at our table.

Nice to meet you!

We came to see the sunset, and we were not disappointed.

See you next time.
Count your blessings.
That Navy MSC ship is still anchored in the bay.
My dream would be to build a house on that hilltop parcel with views of Barretto and Baloy beaches. Maybe when I’m rich and come back in my do-over life.
I’ll never get tired of views like this one.
The innards at Central Park Reef’s bar and restuarant.
The infinity pool.
Some live music.
This 1958 Corvette adds to the 50s diner vibe.
I wouldn’t mind taking it for a test drive, but alas, that is not allowed.

We decided to cross the highway and visit Nipsey’s for our nightcap. We had the place to ourselves, and they must have remembered the kind of music I like. It was a nice finish to the evening.

The view from our table.
The view at our table.

Having achieved my goals for the day, we triked on home for a smoothie and sleep. What a life!

From the April 2018 LTG archives, I’m closing out some projects with only 17 days left in my working life. The highlight of this post is remembering the complaint someone made to the command about my blog. Fuck off, you cunt!

Today’s YouTube video is another good one from the Filipina Pea. Western gals can’t understand why men don’t want to date them, preferring warm-hearted Filipinas for some reason. The Pea explains why, not that it will make a difference to the women back home.

Humor time:

I should have saved this one for Good Friday.
Tax the rich, feed the poor!
Is that what they mean by getting smeared?

It may not be much, but that’s all I’ve got for today. It’s all good.

Taking the bad with the good

Signage in front of one of my former hangouts, Snackbar.

The thing about a bad day is that it makes you appreciate the good days all the more. Now, I ain’t saying yesterday was a bad day, it just wasn’t as good as my days usually are. I woke up in the wee hours of the morning, congested and sneezing. That made sleep impossible, so I just started my daily internet travels earlier than usual. When it came time for the Friday hike, I was still feeling stuffed up, lightheaded, and tired. I hoofed it down to the 7-Eleven meet-up, but I bailed early in the hike, caught a trike home, and went back to bed.

Swan went to the drugstore and got me some medicine to relieve the congestion, and it did seem to help. I chucked a few darts in the afternoon and threw like shit, but decided to attend the Alley Cats tourney anyway, even if I didn’t play. It was Liezel’s birthday celebration, so I baked up a batch of brownies to add to the smorgasbord.

That’s the birthday girl.

After some arm-twisting by Billy, the tournament director, I agreed to participate. I got partnered up with a young half-Filipino, half-Swedish lad, who attended the tourney with his brother and Swedish uncle. Turns out, he had never played in a dart tournament before and didn’t understand the rules of the games we played (501 and Cricket). He didn’t throw badly at first, and once I figured out he needed to be told what to throw at, we did alright, taking our first two rounds in the winner’s bracket. I’m not sure how much experience the young man had with drinking, but he was knocking down the mixed drinks. Now, the more I drink, the better I throw. That was not the case with him, and we got our asses handed to us in our third match and were relegated to the loser’s bracket. Prior to our next game, my partner said he needed to leave with his uncle, and I told him no problem. It was already after 8 pm, and I’d had enough anyway. Billy tried to set me up with a new partner, but I declined and took the forfeit.

Last night’s dart tournament action. That’s me in the blue shirt.

Anyway, it was not a bad time at darts, but I’ve still not recovered my old passion for the game. I’m not giving up yet, so we’ll see what the future holds.

Yes, with my big ol’ beer belly, it is getting harder and harder to squeeze into trikes. Some more motivation for me to lose a little weight.

And so a not-as-good-as-usual day came to an end.

I woke up feeling better with this beautiful morning view from my patio. A good start to the day!

In the memory lane department, here are a couple of poems I wrote when I was in high school. I posted them on Facebook seven years ago and probably here too, but poems are meant to be read again and again.

It seems like I’ve been running from those “shadows of my mind” for most of my life since then.
I wrote this one as an assignment in my creative writing class. My teacher liked it! And yes, I had issues with punctuation way back then, too.

Thirteen years ago, I was dining at the top of Namsan in Seoul:

The view from Ciba Cima. I wonder if it is still open? It’s near the cable car station.

It’s still April 2018 in the LTG archives, and I’ve got twenty-one days left in Korea, so I’m busy closing doors. It wasn’t as over with Gem as I thought. I stayed in touch with her after the move and wound up getting scammed out of a thousand dollars. She still holds the record for taking advantage of my stupidity.

Today’s YouTube video is a good reminder not to put off retirement and to live your dreams while you can. I retired the first time at 55, but gave up my dream of the Philippines for what I thought would be a love-filled life with Jee Yeun. When that dream died, I went back to work, retiring again at 62 and making the delayed move to the PI. If I could have a do-over, I’d forego the heartbreak I endured and spend those wasted years in paradise.

And here we go with my attempts at humor once again:

Yeah, it was a Khan job.
Well, to be fair, some Democrats aren’t crazed lefties. They just vote that way.
That’s a pretty hairy experience.

Now to get on with making sure today is a good one.

Keeping it easy

Waking up alive every morning is the best way to start.

It has been said that it is a curse to live in interesting times. So, on my list of positives, I can be thankful for not being cursed. Here are some highlights from Thursday that probably won’t interest you.

The dollar-to-peso exchange rate broke into the 60s for the first time since I’ve been coming to the Philippines. I understand the all-time high was 60.34.

I don’t drive here, so I don’t worry much about fuel prices. I’m sure the people who drive me (primarily trikes and Jeepneys) do care, though.

100 pesos per liter is big news here, and prices are rising much faster than in other countries in the region.

Now, I understand that the war in Iran is causing a spike in oil import prices. But the gasoline retailers here raised the price on the inventory they already had in storage facilities before the upheaval in the Middle East. Seems kind of scammy to me. I hear the most egregious price gougers have been sanctioned by the government. It will be interesting to watch how this all plays out.

We were the only two passengers on our Jeepney ride to Calapandayan yesterday, and Swan and the driver chatted the whole way there.

The Jeepney driver was incensed about the rising cost of fuel and angry that the government hadn’t allowed fares to be raised to cover the increased expenses. He said the Blue Jeepney drivers (the ones who cover the Olongapo-to-Castillejos route we use) are planning a strike on Saturday. Most locals rely on Jeepneys for their work commute, so it will be interesting to see how this all plays out. Maybe the Philippines should start buying some American oil.

Meanwhile, life goes on. Swan and I took that ride out to Calapandayan to kick off our morning hike. I wanted to do the walk where the grandmother who I like to help out occasionally lives. Before I suggested it, Swan said we should visit the lola (grandma). Hey, great minds really do think alike!

And we even dressed the same!
Off we go!
Through a subdivision called “Earth Homes.” Aren’t they all?
Over the rickety bridge.
The woman in red has a hard life raising the kids of her deceased daughter (the two closest to her in this photo). We only come out this way once a month or so, but she is always so happy to see us and grateful for our assistance. It’s a joy to help her.
A short and special walk.

In the afternoon, I had a consultation with Dr. Jo. After reading and watching videos about visceral fat, I was concerned I might be stressing my liver, even though I give it plenty of exercise every night. We reviewed my most recent blood work results, and the liver numbers were all in the normal range. Her biggest concern remains my kidneys and the impact of my high blood sugar. I told her I had removed most sweets (no more ice cream and candy) from my diet, but it didn’t seem to be making much difference weight-wise. I also showed Dr. Jo an herbal remedy I had purchased online, but hadn’t tried yet, pending her guidance.

Desperate times call for desperate measures.

When I showed her the bottle, Dr. Jo laughed and said I was the second patient to ask about this product. She looked at the ingredients, and she and Dr. Chris both agreed it wouldn’t hurt me, but they couldn’t say how effective it would be in reducing visceral fat.

Alright, it was time for me to make a life-altering decision. No, don’t be silly, I’m not giving up beer. But this coming Tuesday morning, I’m going to begin the Ozempic injection regimen. We’ll see how that works out for me.

After leaving the doctor’s office, we headed to Sloppy Joe’s. When the hunger pangs hit, I asked Swan what she wanted to do about dinner. She looked at me sheepishly and said, “You know I want birria.” As a matter of fact, so did I. So, it was off to Myleen’s.

Tasted good to me.

I shared a YouTube video Kevin left in the comments for making birria tacos at home, and Swan is going to give it a try. Looking forward to her version!

After dinner, we paid a visit to the Alaska Club. After we sat down, I noticed that most of the familiar staff faces were missing. I guess owner Jerry saw the look on my face, because he came over and told me a big spender had come in earlier in the week and dropped over 500,000 pesos in the bar that night. The newly rich girls haven’t been showing up to work since. Well, the girls who were there last night seemed okay with my meager 50 peso tips.

We did our nightcap at Wet Spot, and I might have inadvertently caused some drama. As previously mentioned, Green Room is closed while undergoing renovations. The GR staff is working in Wet Spot during the interim. I’ve noticed some tension between the competing crews; more girls chasing the same customers, and I’m not sure what else is happening behind the scenes. I’ve made it a point to continue buying a lady a drink for my two Green Room regulars and my two Wet Spot regulars. Another thing I do when I hit the bars is bring cookies and lollipops for the girls. Knowing there are twice as many in Wet Spot now, I doubled the volume of sweets. Now, in the Green Room, I just open the bags of goodies and pour them onto the table, and then the ladies come and help themselves until it’s all gone. Some tend to be a little greedy, take more than their share, and so some gals get left out. Oh well. Now, in Wet Spot, my regular waitress divides the goodies and delivers them so everybody gets some. But last night, the Green Room gals got grabby and pissed off the Wet Spot waitress, and then loud words were exchanged. The manager eventually told them to tone it down, but the drama wasn’t fun for me to witness. Swan says that in the future, we will give the Green Room ration to the mamasan for distribution, and let our waitress handle the Wet Spot share. Geez, no good deed goes unpunished.

And so another uninteresting day came to an end.

How about a quick stroll down memory lane:

Me and that gal I dated in 2008 who doesn’t want to be mentioned on my blog ever again. Sorry about that, Say Wha. You were part of my life, and history can’t be changed.
Fourteen years ago, my co-worker friend Corine joined us for a trip to Korea’s East Sea. Don’t remember the name of the town now, but it was a nice spot.

From the April 2018 LTG archives, I continue the transitory process between my soon-to-end Korean life and the upcoming life in the Philippines. Some nice pictures from around Pyeongtaek and my fifth Hash run with the Humphreys Hangover Hash House Harriers. Five runs earn you a Hash name, and that was the day I became known as Cum Together in the world of Hashing.

Today’s YouTube video is about how aging impacts your ability to travel. It kind of resonated with me. That trip to Da Nang in January was special, but some of the getting there and back again details were stressful. I think I was more resilient as a younger man.

Some call it humor, some may not. I post, you decide:

Stop while you’re ahead. And still have one.
You can’t argue with geography.
And don’t poop on the roof on the way down!

And that’s it for today’s post. I’ve been feeling like shit all day, and even had to bail on the Friday group hike. I’m not sure yet whether I’ll make it to darts today. We shall see.