I woke up at 3 a.m. after having set my alarm for 4. It’s all good, that extra hour will let me dash out another worthless post here for anyone who cares about my yesterday. The big events were the Wednesday Walkers trek and packing. Then I had some beers at Red Bar, Cheap Charlies, and Wet Spot for dessert.

Let’s get to it:

A nightcap at Wet Spot, and some friends of Swan’s from Germany dropped by to join us. Had to bail on them early (though 8:30 is late for me) to be ready for today. And now today has arrived.

From the LTG August 2016 archives, I write about moving on with my life, poco a poco. I wasn’t quite as far along as I thought I was, but I was making steps in the right direction.

Here’s a YouTube video I haven’t had the chance to watch yet, but it seems relevant somehow. I’ll give it a view when I get to Vietnam and see if it saves me any money.

A quick stop in the Humor Department:

Alright then.

Gonna bake some muffins and take a shower, then load up in neighbor Jeff’s car for the drive to Manila. Next post will be from Da Nang!

Not much to my Tuesday as usual, but no complaints about that. Grocery shopping in the morning and the beach in the afternoon.

Good music, pleasant chat, cold beer, and nice views. Does it get any better than that?

But the food was good, as usual.

That’s all there was to it for my Tuesday.

Back in the August 2016 LTG archives, and it’s my first day back to work in my new old job. Got rid of most of my American life belongings, and also got an offer to buy my house. Life moves forward even when you are looking back.

Speaking of looking back, today’s YouTube video captures the essence of life in the 70s through photographs. Don’t it always seem to go that you don’t know what you got till it’s gone?

Time out for some memes:

And now it is time to get busy packing my bags. We are pulling out for Manila at 0500 tomorrow morning, so I need to be ready to roll. A two-week trip is a lot more challenging to pack for, especially when I’m used to having my laundry done once a week. Swan says we can have some clothes washed while we travel, so we’ll see how that works out.

Well, regular readers know how I roll through my Sunday routines, but things change occasionally, even if it’s not much of a change. Sweet stroll, floating bar, John’s place, Red Bar, Jumpin’ Jacks. What’s new and what’s missing? Read on!

As seen on the Sunday Sweets Stroll:

So, no Hideaway feeding, but in its place:

On to dinner at John’s place. I have to wonder if this was the last one. No wine for Swan, and many more items on the menu that are no longer available. It seems like they are intentionally not restocking food supplies and are trying to sell out as much as possible before closing. I hope I’m wrong about that, but I don’t think so. Still, if you are losing money, you don’t have much choice but to close it down. It’s just not the same without John there.

A visit to Red Bar after dinner, and then a nightcap at Jumpin’ Jacks brought the evening to a close.

We did stop at the print shop on the way home to get a copy of my Vietnam visa.

(deleted visa photo for privacy purposes)

The trike made it to the house without incident this time.

It’s the last day of July 2016 in the LTG archives. I gotta say, this journey through the past has been heartrending lately. Back in the states, my kids were selling the contents of my house for me, almost as if I had died. And in a way, I did. One life ending and another yet to begin. But I made it through the storm.

Today’s YouTube video discusses ten things you don’t want to carry when you travel. I watched it just to make sure I’m up to speed for my upcoming trip to Vietnam. I recall the first time I visited Thailand, I was still into vaping and carried several e-cig pens with me. Somehow, I made it through customs without incident. Later, I was standing on a street in Bangkok waiting for the light to change and puffing away. A foreigner came up to me and said, “Dude, vaping is illegal in Thailand. The police will arrest you for that!” Damn, guess I got lucky.

Let me wipe that smile off your face:

And now it is time to prepare for another Hash Monday.

Back tomorrow with a full report.

When the winter rains
Come pourin' down
On that new home of mine,
Will you think of me
and wonder if I'm fine?
Will your restless heart
Come back to mine
On a journey through the past.
Will I still be in your eyes
And on your mind?

Still plodding along on this road we call life. Yesterday morning we did our first Decay Dance (candy walk) in a couple of weeks. The break made revisiting the familiar path a little more refreshing than usual. But we did see some new things along the way that were not so pleasant.

Our evening on the town started with some liquid refreshments at It Doesn’t Matter—the usual laid-back atmosphere, sitting on the patio and watching the world go by. Trikes are part of the lifestyle here, like them or not. Some folks even name their trikes. Like this one:

When the hunger pangs hit, we moseyed up the highway to Jewel Cafe for our usual treats.

Overall, a disappointing dining experience this time.

We crossed the highway rife with weekend traffic and did our nightcap at Cheap Charlies. Other than them being out of Zero beer (as are most of the bars in town), things went fine. Enjoyed watching the street scenes down below from our third-floor vantage point and then grabbed a trike for the ride home.

Nothing like a bit of excitement at the end of the day.

Here’s how I exploded some lefty heads on Facebook today:

From the July 2016 LTG archives is another post about my comings and goings in the being single in Seoul chapter of my life. I tried to make the best of it, despite the aching in my heart.

For today’s YouTube video, we visit a Filipina vlogger who shares her thoughts on why there has been a dearth of tourists in the Philippines lately. According to her, it is mainly about a lack of value for the money. I agree that’s a big part of it.

How about some humor?

I hope I didn’t duplicate any memes today, but if I did, how much worse can it be than the first time you saw it? When your memory fades, everything old is suddenly new again!

Well, my definition of “fun” may differ from yours, but at least I’m easy to please. I woke up to a rainy morning, but that wasn’t going to stop me from making my first hike of the new year.

I had some business to attend to early in the afternoon: the annual Hash leadership meeting. All current officers were re-elected, the Hash made money last year, so there is no need to raise the fees, and we voted to allow drinking to begin at 3 p.m. instead of the current 3:30.

When the meeting concluded, I headed to Alley Cats bar and had some beers while I awaited Swan’s arrival. I didn’t make any formal New Year’s resolutions, but I do plan to buy a new set of darts and take up the game again. I won’t be a fanatic like I was in the old days, but playing in a tourney or two each week would be a nice addition to my other routines.

Swan arrived, had a glass of wine, and then we crossed the highway for dinner at Mango’s.

After our meal, we moved on to Gold Bar, one of the newer venues in town.

Some beer, wine, and a lady drink later, we moved down the road to Queen Victoria for our nightcap.

As days go, it wasn’t a bad one.

On to July 2016 in the LTG archives. In this post, I came to terms with where I was in life and also accepted the me I was. Looking back on it now, it was an acknowledgement that the life I had lived before was over, and the future life was up to me to build. And here I am.

Let’s check in with the Filipina Pea for today’s YouTube video. Pea shares twelve unique aspects of Filipino culture, although I hadn’t caught on to most of them even after all these years.

Hold on to your hat, because here they come:

That’s all I’ve got for today.

Or should I say, the best day so far this year? Honestly speaking, it wasn’t that great. The lingering effects from the late-night celebration to welcome the new year kept me housebound for most of the day. But when the clock struck beer o’clock, I dragged my sorry ass into town for the first time all year. I had initially thought I’d grab a stool at Cheap Charlies, but they were closed, as were several other drinking establishments. Sloppy Joe’s, a 24/7 operation, was open and waiting for me, thereby earning my patronage.

Swan had spent the day at the family compound in Subic, so I was drinking alone. Swan messaged that she would join me at Sloppy Joe’s around 6 pm. I was surprised when a trike pulled up out front and dropped Swan and three of her Hashmates off. Swan had joined them for some New Year’s Day revelry and invited them along so they could play pool. I’d had about enough of Sloppy by then, so we moved the party next door to Green Room.

I enjoyed watching Honey and Grace play pool; they are both excellent players. The gals were in party mode, and I didn’t want to be that old guy who spoils the fun, so I sat at my own table and sipped some San Miguel Light beers (yep, the bars are running out of Zero again). Still, all good things must end, and I pulled the plug around 8:30.

And that’s how the first day of the new year went down. I’m sure they’ll get better.

Some good chatter in the comments section about why tourism is down in the Philippines. This post from the June 2016 LTG archives shares my tourist experience in Manila when taking a taxi to the airport. These days, most folks use the Grab app to arrange transport, which is a good way to beat the taxi scammers.

On one of the internet forums I frequent, I came across this thorough post describing what’s wrong with tourism in the Philippines. It’s worth a read if you are interested in this subject.

Today’s YouTube video provides an update on Vitaly, that asshole vlogger who got arrested last year for harassing Filipinos to make content for his asshole vlog. It seems he’s not doing well in jail and the prospects of him getting out any time soon are slim to none. Being locked up in a Filipino jail is my worst nightmare and would be tantamount to a death sentence for me (you have to wait years for a trial date). It’s hard to feel sorry for a dick like Vitaly, but I do have empathy for what he is going through, even it is well-deserved.

Let’s clean the palate with some alleged humor:

Time to get on with whatever the future has in store for me. Thanks for coming by.

Out with the old and in with the new. I said goodbye to 2025 with a nice morning hike to the seldom-visited Tibag community. And then I attended the New Year’s Eve gathering in the penthouse suite at the Rooftop Hotel. All my contributions (chili, cornbread muffins, brownies) seemed to be enjoyed, judging by the fact that there were no leftovers.

The party started at 4 pm, and I was the first to arrive. The only time I see midnight these days is when I get up to pee, so I wasn’t expecting to be around when the new year arrived. Another complicating factor was that there was no Zero beer available, so I was drinking the more powerful San Miguel Light. I limited myself to one bottle every thirty minutes, and that seemed to help keep me standing. And lo and behold, I was still on the rooftop when the fireworks started exploding over the bay. Yep, 2026 began with a miracle!

Here’s the day in pictures:

And then it was time to party! Tim spends six weeks a year in the Philippines (Pennsylvania is his home) and always rents the penthouse at the Rooftop Hotel. It is by far the biggest and nicest hotel room I’ve ever seen, more like a fancy apartment with three bedrooms, three baths, and a large, fully equipped kitchen. I understand that it was once the residence of the hotel owner. It’s on the top floor of the hotel, and the views are quite nice.

Time passed, and then this happened:

And then I was done.

A nice way to end the year. Let’s see what the new one brings.

From the June 2016 LTG archives, I found myself unexpectedly in Manila for the weekend. I was coming home from a trip to Cebu and missed my connecting flight to Incheon. The airline couldn’t get me on another flight for two days, but they put me up in a decent hotel, and I got to do some exploring. I was still thinking of the Philippines as a potential retirement destination, but after this trip, I knew it wouldn’t be in Manila.

Today’s YouTube video is a short (4-minute) account of how the vlogger transitioned from being a visitor in the Philippines to it feeling like home. I’m approaching eight years here now, and I’ve still got only one foot firmly planted here. I just can’t seem to accept some of this culture’s norms, like noise and litter.

Let’s start the new year with a smile or three:

I’ve been a lazy shit and haven’t left the house all year so far. I’ll take a nap and see if I feel like going out later. Staying up until midnight kicked my ass.

Let me begin this post with an apology. Some readers have complained in the comments about being redirected to another website while trying to log on here at LTG. I contacted my blog host this morning in an effort to find out what the fuck is up with that. After jumping the usual hurdles, I was eventually connected with a human being. I explained the problem, and he came back with something about my storage disk being near capacity, along with a sales pitch to upgrade for additional space. I asked what that had to do with my readers being redirected, and he told me that, with my nearly full storage, there was insufficient space for SiteLock to search for and remove the problematic malware properly. He told me all my problems would go away if I added space on the disk for “only” $500 for two years. Having no other viable options, I consented.

Thank you for your patience today while we addressed the security concerns regarding your blog, mccrarey.com.

I am writing to confirm that we have successfully upgraded your account to the Pro 200 Plan. As we discussed, this provides the 200 GB of disk space necessary to bypass the storage limits that were hindering our security tools. With this “breathing room” now available, I have officially escalated Case #03872324 to our specialized SiteLock team.

Our security experts are now performing a deep-level manual scrub of your files and database to identify and remove the malicious scripts causing those gambling redirects.

Hopefully, I didn’t just get scammed.

Alright, then. Here’s what I remember about Tuesday. It’s my shopping day, and one of the morning routines I engage in is baking some breakfast muffins. I share them with my support team (Swan, our helper, the driver, and street urchin “Mama” when we see her). For whatever reason, I spaced out doing the baking until it was too late to complete the task prior to departure. Oh well, shit happens.

So, we were well on our way down the highway (like twenty minutes) when it suddenly dawned on me that I had forgotten to put my credit card in my wallet. Shit, I had no other way to pay for the groceries, so there was no alternative but to turn around and go fetch the card. My driver shrugged it off, but I wasn’t happy about this latest brain fart. I guess that’s just part of life in the 70s. At least I didn’t have a cart full of groceries at the checkout when I remembered I’d forgotten my card.

Other than the chocolate candies we give the kids still being out of stock, the shopping went fine. I was feeling lazy, so I skipped my usual neighborhood walk. Then I spent hours on a picture-filled post about the Sampaloc Cove Hash outing that didn’t generate the interest I expected. That’s okay, it is what it is.

It being Tuesday, next on the agenda was our regular weekly outing to Baloy Beach.

A bit later, we headed ashore for dinner at Treasure Island.

Home by our usual 8 pm and in bed shortly thereafter. My weary brain needs its rest.

From the June 2016 LTG archives is a post where I write about a writer who writes about Thailand. I hadn’t been there yet, but I found some of his stories on a Thailand-based website I followed (sorry, the links to those stories no longer work). Steve Rosse and I briefly became Facebook friends, and I purchased some of his books. Why aren’t we friends any longer? Welp, once Steve discovered I didn’t adhere to the leftist dogma, he blocked me. Stephen King is another good writer, but just as indoctrinated.

Today’s YouTube video is about a Brit who wound up homeless in the Philippines. I can’t believe people come to a third-world country and fuck it up for themselves, but it happens more often than it should.

Humor me:

And on that note, the final post of the year is nearly complete. I’ll be celebrating New Year’s Eve at Tim’s hotel (he’s Scott’s brother and visiting from the USA). I’ve got a crockpot full of chili to share. Also, some brownies in the oven, and if I don’t forget to bake them, a batch of cornbread muffins. I don’t expect I’ll be awake to see the new year arrive (the party starts at 4 pm), but you never know. I’ll let you know how it goes tomorrow.

Anyway, here’s a short recounting of my Saturday, um, as the crow flies dies.

We didn’t have any chocolates to dispense because ALL the stores (we visited several) are sold out. So, no candy bags but a few odds and ends to hand out. Not enough for the regular Decay Dance, so we just did an abbreviated walkabout.

It Doesn’t Matter Bar was having its end-of-year party at McCoy’s on Baloy Beach. We dropped by, but things were already well underway; there was nowhere to sit, and no more Zero or Light beers. That’s what happens when you arrive late. I dropped off the sweets (muffins and lollipops) I’d brought, then headed up the beach for Treasure Island.

Neighbors Jeff and Davina were having a family outing at Treasure Island, and several others had joined in the fun, so we did too.

It was well after dark when home beckoned. When I got my tab, it said I had drunk 14 San Miguel Zeros. I’m not sure that was right, but I was in no position to argue about it, so I paid. And just to be clear, I was on my feet and doing fine. We even had to walk a bit before finding a trike. Back at the house, I put some yogurt on a brownie for dessert, played some solitaire on the laptop, and had no trouble once I hit the sack.

I had a weird dream (aren’t they all?) just before waking up, that I actually remember. The details are fuzzy, but basically, it involved a transgender man being ridiculed by a group of individuals in a public setting. I defended the tranny by shouting out that he has the right to live as he chooses (notably, I did not do that pronoun thing). When I thought about the dream, it was not inconsistent with my usual modus operandi. The tranny wasn’t invading any female spaces (which I vehemently oppose) or engaging in any other untoward behavior. So, live and let live is fine by me, unless and until you cross the line and let your insanity impact others around you. Anyway, it was a weird thing to dream about.

Facebook memories took me back to this day in 2017. I was visiting the Philippines, and a Manila gal I’d been chatting with for a while met me at the airport when I landed.

It’s still May 2016 in the LTG archives, and in this post, I write about closing more doors as I worked to escape the trauma of my broken marriage. It only hurts until the pain goes away.

For today’s YouTube video, I share some of this vlogger’s perspectives on what a bad day really looks like. I noted that he took some heat in the comments for parts of his commentary and video structure (like that gal on the balcony who didn’t encounter any disasters other than being clickbait). Still, I was there for the action shots of destruction and wasn’t disappointed.

You gotta laugh, or at least try and smile:

Whatever it means, I’m outta here for now. Rumor has it that the Arizona floating bar is back in operation, so I’ll be checking that out. According to their Facebook page, John’s place will be open today, so we’ll be dining there. And then we shall see what happens.

At least until next year.

So, the last Friday of 2025 started with the group hike.

Since it was only Scott and me, and Scott had his car, we took a drive to the seldom-visited countryside out Mangan-Vacca way and commenced our hike. Scott reminded me that our last time out here was in April, that we’d gotten lost, and he had nearly collapsed from exhaustion and dehydration. He’s not sure if that incident triggered his stroke a week later, but the memories are intertwined.

After that pleasant start to the day, when beer o’clock rolled around, Swan was hungry, so we headed for Jewel Cafe. Upon arrival, there was a sign on the door saying that, due to unforeseen circumstances, they would be closed until Saturday. I suggested Myleen’s as an alternative, but as we walked past It Doesn’t Matter, we decided we could eat and drink there. Talk about killing two birds with one stone! The food was good, and the beer was cold, so that was a win.

I suggested Cheap Charlies for our nightcap, but we could see from the street that it was crowded upstairs, so we kept walking to Wet Spot. Met an interesting expat who lives in San Antonio, and we had an enjoyable chat. It seems he’s become disillusioned with the Philippines after many years here and is planning his escape, with Vietnam being his first choice. He hadn’t heard about Dave Fisher’s passing, so I had to share that sad news with him. Anyway, it was a nice night out on the town.

Still plowing through the May 2016 LTG archives, and came upon the sad post about my dear friend Bridget Werner’s passing. She was one of the most unique personalities I’ve encountered over the course of my life, and I still miss her wit and wisdom. What the balls, Bridget! You left us way too soon.

I don’t usually read posts from people I don’t know on Facebook, but for some reason I read this long-ass thing today, and it resonated. It ends with these words:

Don’t wait for someone to make room for you where you don’t belong. The map is wide. The road is long. And the best seat in the house is wherever you decide to stop.

I’ll paste the rest at the end of this post. You can read it or not there at your leisure.

I also came across this article, which says that any amount of marijuana use is bad for teenagers. Well, I smoked pot regularly from age fifteen until my twenties. That may explain a lot, like my inability to use proper grammar. Heh, that reminds me of the time in high school when I went to my English class after smoking a joint at lunchtime. We had to write an essay in the classroom that day, so I wrote about having to write an essay while stoned. To her credit, the teacher recognized me for my honesty, and I got a passing grade. Ah, life is full of memories up until the time you forget them.

Today’s YouTube video reveals the disgusting things going on inside your body while you sleep. I found it interesting; you may too. I feel kind of bad for all the interruptions I cause when I get up to pee every hour or so.

On to what I claim is humor:

And now it is onward to whatever adventure the rest of Saturday holds in store for me.

Here’s that Facebook post I mentioned above:

I was erased from my daughter’s life with a phone call that lasted less than thirty seconds.

I stood in my driveway, November wind cutting through my jacket, fingers stiff around a cooler packed with homemade smoked venison jerky. Two days before Thanksgiving. Behind me sat The Beast—my restored 1978 emerald-green pickup, polished for months until the chrome reflected the sky. I’d planned to drive seven hundred miles to Chicago.

Barnaby, my twelve-year-old Blue Tick Coonhound, was already buckled into the passenger seat, his red holiday bandana tied just right. His tail thumped happily. He knew the cooler meant one thing.

We were going to see The Girl.

Then my phone buzzed.

“Dad,” Emily said. Her voice wasn’t warm. It was tight, rushed, layered with the clatter of keyboards behind her. “Plans changed. Mark’s CEO is coming for dinner. It’s… important. A big networking thing.”

My hand froze on the icy door handle.

“That’s okay,” I said gently. “I packed my navy suit—the one from your graduation.”

“No, Dad—listen,” she interrupted quickly, as if speeding through it would dull the impact. “It’s crowded. And the new house has white wool carpets. Very… intentional. With Barnaby, and your stories—you know how loud they get—it might be better if you stayed at a hotel this time. And maybe boarded Barnaby? There’s a kennel off the interstate.”

The silence between us roared louder than the wind.

She wasn’t just asking me to stay elsewhere. She was editing her life for an audience—and I didn’t fit the aesthetic. The grease permanently etched into my hands. The old truck that smelled like pine and fuel. The hound who snored like a freight train.

We were clutter.

“Don’t worry about it, Em,” I said, keeping my voice steady while something caved in behind my ribs. “I actually forgot—I’ve got a tractor transmission to fix here. Probably shouldn’t leave town anyway. You all have a wonderful night.”

“Oh.” She sounded relieved. That hurt the most. “Okay. That works. We’ll FaceTime. Love you, Dad.”

The call ended.

Barnaby let out a low, mournful howl and rested his chin on the dashboard. He didn’t know the words—but he understood.

“Well, buddy,” I said, climbing into the cab and slamming the heavy door shut. “Looks like Chicago’s off the list.”

I sat there, engine idling, staring at the GPS on my phone.

Six hours, forty-two minutes. Blue line. Efficient. Sterile.

I reached into the glove box and pulled out something I hadn’t used in years—a battered paper road atlas. Its edges were soft as cloth. I opened it, breathing in the scent of ink and old paper.

“You know what?” I traced a line west with my thumb. Away from snow. Away from white carpets. Away from shrinking myself. “Let’s go see that big hole in the ground Mom always wanted to see.”

I tossed my phone face-down and shifted into gear.

We avoided interstates where everyone drives like they’re being chased. We took back roads—two-lane highways curling through towns with named water towers and people who still wave at strangers.

We ate at roadside diners where the menus were sticky and the waitresses called you “Sugar” without irony. I shared my hash browns with Barnaby. Nobody minded. In Missouri, a tattooed kid admired the truck and asked about carburetors. We talked for an hour. No screens. Just people.

For the first time in years, I didn’t feel outdated.

I felt alive.

Late on the second day, near the edge of New Mexico, the weather turned. Rain and sleet slicked the road. The sky bruised purple and black.

That’s when I saw them—a modern sedan on the shoulder, hazards blinking weakly. Miles from anywhere.

I pulled over.

A young woman stood shivering beside the car. A little girl pressed her tear-streaked face to the window.

“No service,” the woman said, panicked. “The GPS sent us this way. The car just died. We’re trying to get to Phoenix.”

I nodded. “Pop the hood.”

Plastic everywhere. Computers and covers. But an engine is still an engine. I spotted it fast—a snapped belt.

“I can fix it,” I said.

I didn’t have the right part—but I had ingenuity, duct tape, and time.

“Barnaby,” I said. “Light.”

The old dog trotted over and held the flashlight in his mouth, perfectly still, tail thumping softly.

When the engine came back to life, the woman cried. Tried to hand me money.

“Buy her hot chocolate,” I said. “Stick to the main road.”

She took a photo—me, grease-stained, Barnaby proud beside me—against the endless desert.

Thanksgiving night found us parked at the edge of Grand Canyon.

No fancy dinner. Something better.

A small fire. Beans warming. Jerky for Barnaby. Sage-scented air and ancient silence.

My phone buzzed. Emily.

I answered.

Behind her were suits, wine glasses, white carpets. Too bright. Too stiff.

I turned the camera.

The fire.

The truck.

Barnaby sleeping on a blanket.

Then the sky—stars spilling across the heavens like diamonds.

“I’m at the table,” I said quietly.

She stared. Then softened. “It’s beautiful, Dad. I… I miss you.”

“I miss you too,” I said. “But we’re okay. We found our place.”

After the call, I leaned against the truck and watched the fire die down.

I realized I’d spent years waiting for permission to belong—trying to fit into a life that no longer fit me.

But you spend the first half of your life building a home for others.

The second half is learning that you are the home.

I didn’t need a chair in a room where I was afraid to spill something. I had the open road. I had the stars. I had the keys.

Don’t wait for someone to make room for you where you don’t belong.

The map is wide.

The road is long.

And the best seat in the house is wherever you decide to stop.

My neighbor Mike celebrated his 78th birthday yesterday and invited us to join in the celebration he hosted. I understand some Hispanic guy named Jesus also had a birthday on the 25th, although he’s quite a bit older.

Mike’s an interesting guy. We grew up in the same town in Southern California, Westminster. We attended the same high school, but, since he was eight years older, we never met. Mike is also a Vietnam War veteran, and yesterday he shared a photo album of his two tours of duty on the battlefield. During that time, he earned two Purple Hearts and was awarded the Bronze Star for his bravery. After returning home and recovering from his wounds, Mike became a well-known music promoter and worked with numerous famous bands and musicians. He had some amazing photos from those days as well.

After he retired, he lived in Brazil for several years before settling here in the Philippines. And now he lives less than a block from my house. It is indeed a small world after all.

The party started at 2 pm, and folks started heading out around 4:30. But the fun wasn’t done, as some of us reconvened for a nightcap at Thumbstar Bar around 6 pm.

It was a good Mikesmas.

From the May 2016 LTG archives is a post about my attending the wedding of my friends Mat and Sohee.

Tellingly, the post included this:

I do admit that I’ve become somewhat cynical at weddings these days.  During the vows, I recalled similar words from my most recent soon-to-be ex-wife.  I muttered “promises, promises” under my breath…

Sadly, Mat and Sohee divorced a couple of years later. Subsequently, Sohee committed suicide.

Speaking of the not-yet-ex wife, she sent me a Christmas message saying she still thinks of me and is sorry for letting me go. Yeah, thanks for that. Ten years too late.

I also heard from my daughter and she sent me this:

Today’s YouTube video is another one of those warnings about retiring in the Philippines if you are not financially prepared to do so. Sadly, common sense isn’t too common these days.

And before I go:

Had enough? Me too!

We went all the way out to San Antonio for our Wednesday hike this morning and didn’t get back to Barretto until just now. And man, am I tired! Too tired to blog today, so consider that your Christmas gift. I’ll try to get you caught up on things from here tomorrow.

Just a song before I go: