Well, shit. Here I was all proud of myself for my Hash performance on Monday, then I wake up sick again on Tuesday. This time the symptoms are more cold-like–a cough emanating from the upper chest, a runny nose, light-headedness, and an almost complete lack of energy. I managed to get the grocery shopping done in the morning and nothing much else.
You know it’s pretty bad when I voluntarily forego my daily dose of beer. Can’t even remember the last time that’s happened. I was actually wavering, entertaining thoughts of “maybe just a couple” when mother nature intervened by unleashing a hellacious combination of wind and rain. Yep, staying home definitely proved to be the right decision. Pretty boring though. I fired up my seldom used television and watched some old episodes of One Step Beyond and some other videos on YouTube. Surfed the net, played some online solitaire, then hit the sack early. My helper gave me some cough medicine and a decongestant. That helped me sleep a little more peaceably. I’ve also been using my nebulizer a lot more than usual to keep the lungs functioning satisfactorily under the stress of whatever is ailing me.
I woke up this morning still alive, so I took that as a good sign. While not exactly refreshed, I was feeling a bit more energetic.
Buddy and I took a walk around the neighborhood to survey the damage from yesterday’s storm. That downed tree was pretty much it.
I wasn’t really feeling up to doing the hike with the Wednesday Walkers group. Scott sent me the map of the path they would be taking. Around 8K and flat. Just prior to their scheduled departure time I thought to myself, “fuck it, I’m going to walk this shit off.” So I headed out and joined them. I did some coughing and sneezing along the way, but otherwise handled the exercise pretty well. Dog tired at the end though.
Now I’m sitting here dealing with the symptoms (the runny nose is the most irritating) and making plans for my immediate future. And yes, I will be following that age-old advice and drinking plenty of liquids. I do feel better than yesterday, so there’s that. And it’s Wingsday, I have a tradition to maintain.
Gawd, I’m sounding like an old man bitching about his health issues, aren’t I? Then again, I am an old man. It’s what we do!
The outer edge of the typhoon passing to the north did wind up hitting us pretty hard last night, but it was too late to impact the Hash. In fact, the overcast skies and breezy conditions during the day kept it much cooler than normal and made hiking the trail all the more pleasant. It was a Leech My Nuggets trail, so it did feature a couple of climbs but they weren’t outrageous and I managed just fine. In fact, our “sane” group, notorious for shortcutting, wound up doing the entire trail. That’s very rare for me. I was also surprised at how strong I felt while hiking–no shortness of breath or other fatigue issues. All I can attribute that to was my day off on Sunday. Perhaps I do need to give it a rest a little more often.
Here are some photos from the hike, taken from several sources:
About 6.5K all in. A nicely marked and varied trail. I liked it enough to compliment the Hare and sit on the ice with him.The first climb began with all these damn steps…And then it was trail climbing, my much-preferred mode of ascent.A stream crossing.Captain Prickhard left a little later than we did, but caught up early on.Pubic Head kept a lookout from the rear.A typical bridge crossing.Hurry up, we’re waiting!Be careful, one false step here and you’ll be in a world of hurt.No comment other than it is always nice to see the beauty of nature.Show us the way, Black And Dick Her.Still climbing.Onward and upward.This was a tricky spot. Slippery rocks and a long way to slide if you slip and fall.No shame in playing it safe.The ever-present thatch grass was another force to be reckoned with.Hello, ladies. Which way do we go?Thataway.Many Filipinos are poor, but that doesn’t mean they aren’t hard-working.Your puny fence can’t stop us!A very well-marked trail.A charcoal factory in the woods…The wide-open spaces…At The Great Wall of Barretto.What’s everybody looking at?Ah, our little town.Picture time!Dropped by to say hello to the Rolly family on the way back down. A FB friend saw this photo and told me those are her relatives. She said she used to live with them up there. I’ve always been curious about the mountain life and I’ll be sharing what I find out from her.I have no idea what might be cooking on that tabletop. Credit for creativity, not sure about the functionality.Finally back on flat ground and headed for the On-Home venue at the VFW.The Hash circle in progress.I’m glad you were able to find your way to this week’s Hash post.
Heading out to the Hash in a couple of hours, weather permitting. The Hash ethos includes “rain or shine” and that’s all well and good. But there is a typhoon passing to the north and today’s Hare is Leech My Nuggets–that combo could make for tough going. Anyway, as of now, it’s looking like a go.
So far, so good.
Nothing much else happening around here. Feeling a bit better today, but haven’t had cause to push myself. Yet. We’ll see how I feel when I’m climbing one of those mountains.
Shit. The wind just kicked up and now it’s raining. Hope it’s not here to stay.
I’ve got two hours to decide what I’m going to do.
Well, you gotta laugh I suppose.
I thought this was funny.
Oh, and I grilled some steaks. I think I’m finally getting that searing technique down pat, this one came out just right. Granted, it wasn’t as thick as those big-ass ribeyes I tried last time, but I was happy with the result.
That’s all for now. Check back in tomorrow for the Hash report. Or lack thereof.
There is something not quite right going on in this tired old body. I usually do a longish Sunday stroll, and I was preparing to head at 0800 this morning when I suddenly felt just about every ounce of energy disappear. I laid down on the couch thinking I’d take a short nap to recharge. Woke up two hours later still feeling empty. It’s not a motivation problem I don’t think because I do enjoy my walks. Just feeling light-headed and bleh today for some reason. I really hope this is not a symptom of old age because it really sucks to feel tired. Hopefully, this too shall pass.
I’m guessing some of my regular readers may be speculating that this feeling like shit thing might be related to the time I spend in the bars. I honestly don’t think so. Take last night as an example. I got to Marick’s a little before 5:00 and left before 7:00. I did stop at It Doesn’t Matter for a couple more beers, but as is my custom I was heading home around 8:00 and in bed at 9:00. I also drink San Miguel Zero (3% alcohol) so I was not really even all that drunk. It is what it is, I guess. For the record, if I fall prey to the worst-case scenario I want to be cremated and have the ashes scattered up on the My Bitch trail. And if there is any kind of wake, have “Time” by the Alan Parsons Project played. Of course, it won’t matter to me if that doesn’t happen–I’ll be dead.
So, about last night. I spent some quality time with girls, played some of my favorite music (they plug into my Spotify), and chatted with the other customer, Eric, who was celebrating his birthday.
Joy introduced me to the new gal, Jane.I thought Joy was looking especially sexy last night.She asked if I had noticed her new eyelashes. I hadn’t, so I took a picture.
When I showed Joy the photos I had taken she didn’t seem impressed with the quality of my camera work. This morning she sent me a better one:
I think she’s a cutie anyway…
And oh yeah, since I’d bought a round of lady drinks, the girls gave me a nice leg massage.
Living the high life!
As I mentioned, I dropped into It Doesn’t Matter on the way home to spend some time with another waitress friend.
She’s much more camera shy than Joy. About 12 years older too. Still, she can hold up her end of a conversation and she has a good sense of humor too. Or at least she pretends that I’m funny. One of those.
Now, to be clear, neither of the bars I visited last night have “take out” available and the girls I drink with are certainly not prostitutes. I don’t normally visit that “type” bar at this stage of my life. What’s been interesting to see, and perhaps it is related to the pandemic somehow, is that Facebook has become a new tool for freelancers. When I get a friend request I check to see if we have any mutual Facebook friends. If there are several, I will usually add them. I had a little bizarre interaction with one of these “friends” over the weekend. It started with a message from someone I’ve never met in person and haven’t really chatted with. She wanted me to accept her sister’s friend request. It was Friday and I was busy with darts, but why not?
Hi sweetie how are
You sent
Doing good. How about you?
Fri 5:37 PM
Madeline
Boring
Fri 7:27 PM
You sent
Okay. We are already friends.
Madeline
Yeah
Madeline
Where are you?
You sent
Barretto
Madeline
Are you busy?
You sent
Going home when I finish eating
Madeline
Can I visit you when you got home?
You sent
Not tonight
Madeline
How about tomorrow?
You sent
I don’t know you. What do you have in mind?
Madeline
Getting horny hehehe
You sent
Ah. I see.
You sent
How much?
Madeline
It’s up to you baby
You sent
I’ll let you know tomorrow then. You are in Subic?
Madeline
Yes
You sent
Okay.
Madeline
See you
Madeline
Take care
Sat 9:12 AM
Madeline
Goodmorning
Madeline
What you doing sweetie?
You sent
doctor appointment this morning…
Madeline
Can I meet this afternoon sweetie
Sat 11:31 AM
Madeline
Are you home already?
Sat 12:39 PM
Madeline
Where are you sweetie
Sat 4:58 PM
Madeline
Hi sweetie are you home
Madeline
I’m horny heheh
Sat 6:07 PM
Madeline
Missed Video Chat6:07
Madeline
Are you home
Madeline
Can I come
Madeline
Missed Video Chat6:08 PMEnter
Madeline
I’m here in barreto
Madeline
Ok
Sat 7:31 PM
Madeline
Still waiting for your replay
10:13 AM
Madeline
Goodmorning
So, that gives you a flavor of how these things go. You see that I’ve been ignoring her for two days now. I think she is getting the hint. Honestly, as much of a horn dog that I am, I really don’t like hooking up with complete strangers. I’d certainly never bring someone I had never met previously to my house. She looks cute enough in her Facebook profile picture, but I just have no interest in her whatsoever. Go figure.
I did, however, initiate a new member into my FWB club. That gives me two active clients, which is about right for me. A couple of times a month keeps me satisfied. I knew the latest one from when she worked in Cheap Charlies and she’s been desperate for some income to feed her kids and pay the bills. I helped her out a few times no strings attached, but the begging pleas only became more frequent. I started to just block her, sending her a message that it was not my responsibility to take care of her family. But I did make the “massage” job offer (which I had done previously) and this time she accepted. Her performance has been adequate thus far, so we shall see how it goes.
And that’s the grim details of how I roll these days. And yeah, I know it is all fake and meaningless, but it helps fill the hours, and I kinda sorta enjoy the company and attention.
Seems to be working so far.
As the good book says, “judge not lest you be judged.” I’m not sure what Buddha would say.
Maybe something along these lines: “Even death is not to be feared by one who has lived wisely.” Although it is quite the stretch to say that I’ve lived wisely.
That’s the way I dance with the ladies these days.
Maybe were just shooting stars Needing something to hold on to But each thing we touch seems to vanish Like candles and friends They burn at both ends
Dance, they said Life is only for the moment The light is brief Don’t waste it The taste is sweet so taste it So I said I understand I’m dancing as fast as I can
Well, I was all prepared to do a post about the murder of an expat yesterday with the help of criminal defense attorneys from The Law Offices ff Michael H. Pham in Houston .The early details were pretty gruesome–including child molestation allegations and an ice pick in the head. I even had one of my witty headlines almost worked out; something along the lines of “take your pick and shove it!” Alas, the effort was all for naught because it turns out the rumored homicide did not, in fact, occur. That’s a good thing of course. I didn’t know the guy personally and what I have heard about him wasn’t good–turning people into immigration for visa violations–but a violent death is certainly not warranted for the crime of being an asshole. Allegedly.
Anyway, back to reality. Sometimes it feels like my life is a bit of a joke, and that’s no laughing matter. The reality of it all though is pretty much what my faithful readers see here on a daily basis–I’m just filling in the hours, however comfortably and well. Damn, it’s almost like I’m living one of my favorite Hemingway stories: A Clean Well-Lighted Place. What’s even scarier is that a quick search of the archives reveals that I was writing about this story fifteen years ago after a crazy night in Itaewon. Back then I had a lot more staying power, that’s for sure. I never even make it to midnight now. Anyway, if you want to read the short story, here it is. Or if you prefer, you can watch the story acted out in this YouTube video (less than 15 minutes long, it is a short story after all.)
As long as I am in uploading mode, I got a kick out of this 15 seconds of goodness:
So, I played darts in the singles tournament last night. Threw decently, but was as inconsistent as ever. Faced off against Billy in the winner’s bracket finals and lost a hard-fought match. I usually don’t care, but I hated losing that one because I left the door wide open for her to come back and beat me. When it came time to play my loser’s bracket match, I just conceded the game, took third place money, and left. I don’t recall ever doing that before. I just wasn’t feeling like playing anymore, so I didn’t.
I left Alley Cats and hoofed it over to Sit-n-Bull for some nourishment. The pulled pork sandwich (with coleslaw) was one of the daily specials, so that’s what I had. Delicious as usual. After eating, I caught a trike and headed home. In bed before 9:00 p.m. I guess those Itaewon marathon nights are nothing but a memory now. That’s okay, this is my new life. Such as it is.
Well, I managed to craft a post out of almost nothing. Then again, I’ve got a lot of experience doing that lately. And now, finally, the moment you’ve undoubtedly been waiting for:
Black Rock Mountain climbing to be precise. For some reason, I got it in my head to lead the Friday hiking group on an 8k journey over Black Rock then around and about back to Barretto. The excitement, such as it was, came with the trek down over a sometimes slippery rock surface. Made it without a scratch so that’s my accomplishment for the day.
I also took these photos:
New signage for the subdivision at the entrance on National Highway.A small group of dedicated hikers for today’s adventure.The climb begins with what felt like a thousand steps, although I didn’t actually count. My Fitbit claims I’ve done 55 floors on the day though…Then we walked down a narrow road for a kilometer or so.Met this 80-year-old Irish gent who told us his tale of having his property stolen by his in-laws. Pretty common story here and one of the reasons I don’t want to own anything.Made it to the top!The survivors.And now to get back down alive…Watch your step, Betty! Those rocks can be slippery.Back on flat ground safe and sound.They looked prettier in real life…Back across the river……and through this neighborhood.Finished up on the beach at Mango’s.The traditional end of hike beers and food.
Feel free to Relive the hike here:
https://www.relive.cc/view/v4OGEPwYMmq
That’s my day so far. Later on, I’ll chuck some darts and see where they land. Hopefully on target some of the time.
Another typical day in the life here. It’s been said that no news is good news, but some may argue that no news makes for a boring blog post. Well, more boring than usual I guess I should say. You’ve been warned!
I started my evening by spending some quality time at It Doesn’t Matter with my favorite waitress. Now, I know how things work in the bars but I do think I’m getting a GFE vibe these days. Oh, for those not in the know, GFE is what we call the “girlfriend experience” that can sometimes be purchased with lady drink commissions. So, when you spend enough time and money with a gal it’s possible she’ll get cuddly, laugh at your jokes, and have you believing you are something special. Hey, in the long run it is cheaper and less dangerous than having a real girlfriend. At least that’s been my experience.
For the past couple of months I’ve made a Wednesday habit of buying Korean-style wings at The Pub to take home for dinner. I arrived at The Pub a little after 7:00 p.m. and was surprised to see a large group at one of the dining tables. Generally at this hour, I’ll have the place to myself or be sharing it with one or two other guys. The large table appeared to be four couples, looking to be in their late 40s or early 50s. And they were all WHITE. You very rarely see foreigner women here, and when you do they are usually youngish backpacker types. I couldn’t quite make out the accent to their English from across the room, but they weren’t Yanks. Adding to the mystery, we are still on lockdown here so they couldn’t have been tourists. I don’t know, perhaps they were diplomats or something like that.
Anyway, the relevance of this gathering to me was that they had just ordered their meals before I arrived. I feared that would put me at the back of the queue in the kitchen, so I asked my regular waitress about how long I’d have to wait. She came back and said it would be 45 minutes. Well, the wings are good, but I wasn’t willing to sit around waiting for them that long. I said my goodnight and left, feeling sorry that my consecutive streak of “wingsdays” was coming to an end.
Now what? I briefly considered hoofing it over to Sit-n-Bull, but that was further than I felt like walking. So instead I crossed the highway and popped into Mango’s. Took my usual seat on the waterfront, was greeted by my waiter and Facebook friend Norman, and placed an order for some grilled porkchops. Of course, I got a beer to help kill the time while they were being prepared. A few minutes later Norman returned and said, “Sir John, I’m sorry, but Edmund (the chef) advises that we have sold out of pork chops today.” Well, damn, just my luck. There was nothing else on the menu I wanted to eat last night, so I finished by beer and left.
Back on the highway again and it is now 7:45. I mused to myself that had I been more patient at The Pub, my wings would be almost ready now. So, I shrugged and headed back to the Pub, placed my belated wings order, and had a beer. The group of diners was still there enjoying their meal so at least my wings would be the top priority in the kitchen. As I was waiting, Luke, one of the Hashers from Angeles City, came in and ordered some tacos. We had a nice chat while our food was being prepared. In the “it’s a small world” category, Luke has purchased two lots in Alta Vista almost directly across the street from my current residence. My wings arrived, I paid my tab, said my goodbyes, caught a trike, and was home eating wimgs and kimchi by 8:30.
Yeah, a pretty wild night, wasn’t it? And of course, it being Wednesday, I had done the group hike during the morning hours. A 5K jaunt, leaving from Alta Vista and featuring two moderate climbs. Still they got me breathing heavy, but a mostly pleasant hike. Here are some photos from the trek. (hmm, a juant, a hike, and a trek. No wonder I was so tired!)
Departing from the subdivision in the lower right then up and down the mountain twice, before returning to Alta Vista.Let’s get this show on the road!Commencing the first up.Looking back down at Alta Vista.Pausing for a group shot.Going down for the first time…Heading down to Columban College.The second up proved to be more challenging than the first. It started with a steep concrete sidewalk covered in algae. Even with the handrail it was hard to keep your feet. A couple of the group didn’t.When the sidewalk turned to mossy concrete steps it was only marginally better.Some candy and cookies for the mountain dweller children.The rest of the climb was easier.Regrouping at the top.A mostly pleasant stroll along the ridge.Although the thatch grass was tough to navigate in places.The last down led us here.Guarding the back entrance to Alta Vista?
And that was that. I declare it to have been a good day!
Another “lazy” Tuesday in the books. Did my weekly grocery shopping then spent the afternoon puttering about in the kitchen.
There was chili to prepare……and cornbread muffins to bake.Since I already had the oven warm I whipped up the ingredients for a carrot cake. Even grated the carrots myself.It tasted better than it looks.I did something a little different this time–sliced the cake in half and applied the cream cheese frosting in the middle. It really wasn’t worth the effort taste-wise or aesthetically. Oh well.
I also play darts on Tuesday evening, so I headed out to Alley Cats. We played doubles, and I drew one of the bargirls as my partner. She’s an experienced player, and I’ve seen her throw decent darts in the past, but she was way off her game last night. Sometimes it felt like I was playing alone or she had never touched a dart before. Or both. But that’s the luck of the draw and I’ve had my share of outstanding partners recently, so thems the breaks.
The situation awkward pairing did make for some interesting situations. For example, in our first cricket game, we were way behind–they had everything closed except bulls and we still had three numbers open and were behind on points. It seemed pretty hopeless, but the only way we could possibly win was to put a shitload of darts in the bullseye. And that’s what I proceeded to do, getting two or three every throw. For some reason, our opponents kept throwing for points instead of trying to close out the bull. That kept us in the game and we eventually closed out our open numbers and snatched victory from the jaws of defeat.
Crazy night. I was throwing decent enough to carry my partner and defeat some stronger teams. Still, I was very surprised that we made it to the finals. We couldn’t prevail there, but second place was pretty satisfying given the circumstances.
The night ended on a sour note unrelated to darts, but I’ll save that story for another time. I’m still processing what happened and the way I’m going to move forward. That’s life. At least, that’s my life.
We got it done. Not to perfection or even to my complete satisfaction. I guess you might say that goes with the territory when laying a Hash trail. Sometimes it gets a little Hare-y. Okay, I’ll stop.
It happens that things get lost between what you intend to do as a Hare and what actually happens. We scouted the front half of the trail last Wednesday and had a pretty good idea of where we were going to go. Our efforts on Friday to walk from the endpoint to a logical rendezvous with the front part of the trail were not as successful as we hoped. That meant we were winging it more than I like on Monday morning. We made a wrong turn once and had marked that trail with powder and paper before realizing our error. Did our best to erase the mistake, but I heard from a couple of Hashers they had followed the faux trail. I hate when that happens, but at least they were able to recover and retreat back to the true trail.
The descent we wound up doing was not at all to my liking. Very steep and very slick, and worse yet, it ended up in a creek bed. I hate walking through creek beds. Especially in rainy season. The rocks were covered in algae and slippery as hell. I told my fellow Hares I wasn’t happy with putting the Hashers through what we had done, but it was too late to do anything about it. I was expecting some negative feedback at the Hash circle but I was surprised again. The gung-ho die-hards like Guenter really liked the trail. Leech My Nuggets said he thought it was the best trail of the year. I told him I didn’t think so, how about that going down to the creekbed? He laughed and said, “I was surprised to find that on one of YOUR trails, but I rather it enjoyed it.” I confessed that I had been overruled by my fellow Hares about that route, so the praise belonged to them.
Anyway, all’s well that ends well. No one got hurt and no one was irrevocably lost. Those are my goals as a Hare and they were achieved. Here are some photos to enjoy:
Right at 6K with a challenging climb and a crazy descent.An early start on Monday morning…Let’s get ‘er done!Pubic Head (Scott) did the chalk, manned the camera, and dispensed advice. Blow My Pipe (Jim) dusted the trail with powder. I carried the shredded paper. It’s light. I like it.Up top.Looking back down.The natives were friendly. Mostly. Early in the trail-marking process someone came out and yelled that we were on private property. We were polite but kept on with the business at hand.Flowers along the way.And I enjoyed this “poem”.Fresh goat’s milk.Up the creek without a paddle.The crazy descent ended at this water tank out in the middle of nowhere.Country living. That gal cooking was hotter than the charcoal fire she was tending.The conversation taking place in my head: “Are you sure it will hold me?” Her: “It holds me, doesn’t it?” Me: “Good point!”
Alright, those are the photos taken while we were laying trail. Here are a few taken by the Hashers later while hiking the trail:
A river crossing early on.No one said it was going to be easy…Heading down to the creek. Be careful!It gets better. I promise!These are the only falls I heard about, so that’s good!Back on flat ground, who cares about a rickety bridge?
And a few shots from our On-Home venue at Hunter’s Jo Inn in Calapadayan.
Old fuckers enjoying their beers before the Hash circle.Circle up!Hares and their enablers on the ice! (if you express positive thoughts about the trail, you join with the Hares on the ice)Don’t wear new shoes to the Hash. If you do, you’ll be drinking out of them…It was great to see Tinkerbell (Betty) back after being stuck in Belgium for the past two years.I was honored to be placed on the ice for a second time in recognition of my completing 100 consecutive Hash runs.What else am I going to do? Thank you, COVID for making this possible.And then the sun went down on another Hash Monday.
It’s Hash Monday morning, so I’m posting early. Leaving at 0900 to mark the trail and I doubt I’ll be back home afterward. My thinking now is I’ll get a short time room (and maybe a massage) at our On-Home venue, Hunter’s Jo Inn. More on that tomorrow.
I’ve said before that Barretto, at least for the foreigners living here, is like an amazing retirement community catering to the needs of us oldsters. Of course, those needs may be considered atypical from the stereotypes folks expect of the old and decrepit, but to each his own I suppose. Barretto has much to offer and it is not all about sex and debauchery. This is not to say they aren’t available but for many of us expats that is not the primary attraction.
Last evening was an interesting (to me) example of retired life here and got me thinking about the give and take that makes it work for me. I began my night by popping into the Kitchenette to say my hellos. There were no customers at the moment so I invited the gals from the bar across the street (Alaska) to have dinner on me. They happily accepted.
At least the ones without a mask were smiling…
Next, I moved on up the highway and dropped into Marick’s. Only two girls working and no other customers but me, so I was pretty popular. I was feeling a little hungry, so I ordered up some takeout from the restaurant next door for the three of us.
Good stuff!
I finished my night at Cheap Charlies where a couple of my favorites provided some comforting TLC in the form of a back rub. Very talented hands!
You are not going to find that kind of service provider in your typical American retirement home.
A quiet and relaxing Sunday night. It may not seem like much but it was a pleasant experience. Made the gals happy and they returned the favor. I’d call that a win!
Anyway, that trail isn’t going to mark itself, so I’d best get after it. Naturally, it has started raining just now which will make the task much more difficult. Oh well, nothing I can do about the weather.
Life is good and dying is the last thing I’m going to do. Hopefully not anytime soon.
“Always and never are two words you should always remember never to use.”
I always check to make sure I haven’t used a post title previously because I never want to duplicate it. So, I had in mind a sarcastic “what a life” title but was pretty certain that at some point during these past fifteen years of blogging I must have used it. Instead, I tried going with something stupid, “who’d a thunk it” and was surprised that I had just used that header last year. It was kind of interesting in a sad way to read again how things came to an end with Jessa. Coincidentally, today is her birthday and I sent the appropriate greeting via Facebook for which she thanked me.
Oddly enough, when I checked I discovered that I had NOT, in fact, used “what a life” previously. And now I have. What a life, eh? Maybe it isn’t exactly sarcasm, because an exclamation of “what a life!” can connotate both good and bad. Like everyone, I have moments in both realms but most of my time these days seems to be consumed in my meaningless routines and rituals. That’s the life I’ve chosen and I’m not really complaining. I can imagine other lifestyles and places, but I don’t imagine I’d be any happier than I am now. A long way from perfect, but smack dab in the middle of good enough.
I began my Saturday night at the tiny bar called Marick’s. That cute little 23-year-old bargirl was waiting for me. In fact, she had been sending me “where are you?” messages since early in the afternoon. She seems to be a sweet girl, gentle and caring. Sits close and rubs my hands or massages my legs in the manner a loving girlfriend would. It is easy to get lost when I gaze into those big brown eyes and imagine how nice it would be to have a woman who enjoyed taking care of me. Of course, she’s not the one–too young and with two young kids to boot. She’s not much of a talker either. So, we just sit there and enjoy the music and some beers together. There are worse ways to kill an hour or two.
Speaking of music, when I’m there at Marick’s they like to plug into my Spotify playlists (the bar doesn’t have wifi). At one point while I was enjoying the attentions of my bargirl, an old song by the Electric Light Orchestra (ELO) came on. I’d seen them in concert back around 1975 and it was probably the best live rock show I’ve ever experienced. The band was unique in that it featured an acoustic string instrument section backing the vocals and guitar work of Jeff Lynne. And here I was 45 years later hearing it in the Philippines. I couldn’t help but wonder what the 20-year-old me would have thought if he could see the life he’d be living as an old man. Knowing me, I would have said, “go for it, pops!”.
Three more guys arrived and the bar felt uncomfortably crowded, so I paid my tab and headed out into the Saturday night. As I walked up the highway I felt the first drops of rain. Luckily, I was just around the corner from the It Doesn’t Matter bar. I made it inside just before the skies opened up for a downpour accompanied by lightning and thunder.
This is how it looked from my barstool perch.
My favorite waitress was occupied playing pool with another customer, so I spent an hour or so drinking alone, watching the rain, and contemplating my somewhat solitary life. Once Roan was free, she joined me and we shared a couple of beers and our usual banter. If I could put that brain in the other gal’s body, I might have the perfect girlfriend. See how shallow I am?
The rain eventually let up some and I made it an early night. Got up this morning with every intention of doing my standard Sunday stroll. But it didn’t work out that way. I got a couple of kilometers up the highway and just wasn’t feeling it. So, I walked the streets of the Matain barangay instead. As I was going back towards home on the highway I decided to go the back way to Alta Vista to add some distance to my walk. And for the first time ever, I got stopped at the checkpoint as I entered the Santo Tomas barangay.
“Where are you going?” San Isidro. “Why?” I live there. “Let me see your ID.” I gave him my ACR card, which says Alta Vista, barangay Barretto. Although technically my residence is in San Isidro. The checkpoint official looks at it and says “Oh, Alta Vista. This isn’t the way to Alta Vista”. I told him I was taking the back way home. He gave me back my ID, told me to wait, then went and consulted with two police officers. A couple of minutes later he waved me on. How’s that for excitement? I guess they figured that COVID doesn’t know about the back way to Alta Vista.
Took a nap, watched some old episodes of One Step Beyond on my big screen TV (via YouTube), and also saw a video from The Filipina Pea about “10 things all Filipinas say” that often lead to misunderstandings. Heh, I learned a couple of new things to use myself when I talk to the ladies. Here it is:
And that brings you pretty much up to date on where things stand in my world. I’ll leave you a little music from ELO to enjoy before I go:
Yesterday to be precise. I mentioned the scouting hike already, but I’ll share a few photos from that event later in this post. Played darts last night at Alley Cats. A singles tournament, but that’s fine by me. Win or lose it’s on me that way. I did a little of both yesterday.
I finished in third place overall, losing to Nancy twice. She’s a solid player and threw exceptionally well in the tourney. I was inconsistent as usual, but I had moments of brilliance too. In my match against Kevin, I opened with a ton-80 (three triple 20s), the best possible score. And then in the cricket leg, I threw a 9-mark, the best you can do in that game. I’ve thrown a few 180s and 9-marks over the years, but I don’t recall ever having thrown one of each in a single match. Didn’t play well enough to make the finals, but still not a bad night of darts.
After the tourney, I went over to Mango’s. I was hungry for those pork chops, but alas, there were sold out. So I stopped at the Kitchenette and they fried me up a couple of chicken wings. Good enough.
That was my night. Hardly worth posting about, but I’ve never let that stop me. Here are a few pics from my hike:
Heading out the way we will be coming back on Monday’s Hash. Our mission was to find a good way to connect to the portion of the trail we scouted on Wednesday.Dead people stacked up beside the road. Kind of like those mounds in Korea, right Kevin?Our first attempt to get to the top was stymied by a dead end. We had better luck the second time. The view from up there.The up we did (which will be the down on Monday) wasn’t so bad. But that damn grass was painful. Sharp edges that scratched up my legs and arms and left them itchy as hell. I’ll be arguing with my co-Hares that we should find an alternative on Monday.A nice view of Easter Mountain’s ass side.Passing through a village on the way back down.The neighborhood dump. It’s disgusting and probably unhealthy. But if there is no trash pickup from the city, I’m not sure what alternative there is. I’ve seen people burning trash too, but somehow that seems worse.Boats on the river.
Once we reached the highway, a trike pulled up and offered us a ride. We had parked the Hash truck at Hunter’s Jo Inn, the On-Home location for Monday, about 3K away. How much, we asked, and the driver said 50 pesos. Fair enough, so off we went. Upon arrival, I gave the trike driver 50 pesos and he said the fare was 50 pesos each. Bullshit. I went behind the trike to get a picture of his license number and saw that it wasn’t even a registered trike. Anyway, we just ignored his demands and went inside Hunter’s Jo to have a beer with the owner.
And that concludes this historical episode in the journey of Long Time Gone.
…makes you stronger. I don’t know about that, but here I am, alive and kicking!
I guess all that gloom and doom this morning was for naught. I ain’t complaining, mind you. Did some heavy breathing and got soaked with sweat, but nothing unusual on the scouting hike today. Since I’m still alive we can Relive it together:
Fact is, I’m going out with Jim this morning for some additional scouting of the upcoming Hash trail. It would be an overstatement to call it a premonition, but maybe a “bad feeling” is apropos. Not saying anything tragic is bound to happen, but just in case it does, you heard it here first.
I’m not feeling all that good lately. Not sure what that’s about. Some shortness of breath issues–I’ve been getting winded on the inclines during my dog walks here in the neighborhood lately. Also feeling some light-headedness. I’m pooping more frequently and less firmly as well–not diarrhea, but not quite right either. Blood pressure is on the high side this morning at 139/84 and my resting heart rate is an elevated 74 bpm.
I’m functional, but just not quite right. I blew off walking yesterday, that’s also not like me. Wound up with 6,666 total steps on the day. I’m choosing not to take that as a beastly warning. I did get a nice massage, although the happy ending left me breathless. I’m experiencing some congestion as well. For whatever reason, my nebulizer has chosen this moment in time to stop functioning. Guess I’ll just have to rely on my inhaler to clear the lungs.
So, that’s my state of being as I prepare to head for the hills this morning. What’s the worst that could happen? At least I’m not the unfortunate individual who was basking in the relative safety of this Angeles City convenience store when all of the sudden this happened:
What a way to go.
Just in case, my “last” night was a good one.
Spent some time with this lovely lady who does a good job pretending I’m someone special.
And my “last” supper at The Pub:
My poor photography was insufficient to capture the full flavor of this delicious hamburger.
I’m not really a big burger fan these days, but John Kim posted about what goes into making this one and I couldn’t resist:
Hamburger upgrade. I’ve been buying a lot of meat these days, thanks to you guys, having buying power, I am able to buy good meat at a reasonable price now.We’d like to appreciate you all by upgrading our burger to 100% USDA CHOICE or Higher grade of meat. We’re not using leftover or trimming, but all steak quality meat from newly opened bag each time.It may change depends on our inventory level, but as of today burger patty, Oyster Blade steak and Ribeye was used for the flavor and tenderness, and navel end brisket was used to add the fat content. Still the same price with fries included. Hard to believe? Ask any of my kitchen staff. Many of you guys know Mae. She should tell you. Taste the difference today at The Pub.
So, there you have it. Rent and helpers have been paid so I’m not indebted to anyone. It appears to be a beautiful morning for a hike. What a way to go!
Been nice knowing you! Or should I say, “I’ll be back”?
I’ll be one of the Hares for Monday’s Hash, along with Scott and Jim. So we took the Wednesday Walkers along on a little trail scouting expedition yesterday. We are starting out from the Waltermart on the far side of Subic town, climbing a mountain, then working our way back down to the On-Home venue in Calapadayan. Going to be around 6K once it is done. Of course, one of the aspects of scouting is finding the best way to go and we had a couple of detours and dead ends along the way. Jim is going back out on Friday to work out the kinks and then we will mark the Hash trail on Monday morning.
What I especially like about this trail is that we rarely Hash this far out, so the experience will be new for most of the Hashers. I know I enjoyed seeing some different views as we worked our way up and over the mountain. Here’s what the area looks like:
The trail so far. That area in the upper left is a HUGE subdivision of moderately priced duplexes that are starter homes for many Filipinos.We took the bus from Barretto to Subic town. It works like a Jeepney–just flag them down, pay your fare (15 pesos/30 cents), and ride in relative comfort.Gathering on the highway……and we are on our way!Over the river……and through the backstreets and alleyways of Subic.I don’t predict a happy future for these pups.Off in the distance isFiesta Homes, the subdivision I mentionedAnother view of Fiesta Homes.Let the climbing begin.In the jungle.That would be me bringing up the rear. As usual.A view from on high.A group shot on trail.Rural living.Scott’s been Hashing here since 2005 so it is not unusual for him to run into people he knows. But on top of a mountain in the middle of nowhere was still pretty shocking. A resting development.Heading back down.Almost there.The trail was a little overgrown in places.Passing through a friendly village…And then back over the river.Took a Jeepney back to Barretto and had it drop us off at the Kitchenette.Cold beer and what’s that–chicken nuggets? Wow!
Another good day on trail. Should be a good Hash on Monday.
Does real goodness even exist, or is it always compromised by the dividends it pays to the do-gooder?
That’s the title of a post I came across at the Althouse blog. The question is posed in a review of a new novel by Jonathan Franzen called “Crossroads”. I haven’t read this book or anything else by Franzen, but this quote from the review set me to thinking:
To ethicists, that is a question about whether right thinking matters more than right action—that is, whether we should judge people’s goodness based on what they are doing or on why they are doing it. Most of them agree that motives matter: in a perfect world, we would all do the right thing simply because it is the right thing to do. But we don’t, and Franzen repeatedly exploits the gap between what we do and why we do it—which, in fiction, is the gap between plot and character.
Now, I like to think of myself as at least being somewhat charitable. But I acknowledge that even my smallest acts of charity, like giving “mama” a hundred pesos when I see her, are based at least in part on a foundation of selfishness: throwing some money around to help someone in need helps serve to assuage my guilt that comes from living a rich life in a poor country. I don’t know that acknowledging that fact diminishes the impact of my gift-giving; it certainly doesn’t matter to the recipients. But the larger question regarding my motives is perhaps one to ponder. Helping people out now and then certainly doesn’t magically make me a nice guy.
Take yesterday for example. I spent about $100. at the grocery store on things to be used in the Kitchenette. I have no expectation of ever being paid back, but my continued support of the business might help it become profitable to the extent that my help is no longer needed. I do get a measure of satisfaction from my involvement in creating something that didn’t previously exist. I also enjoy seeing people getting employment opportunities and a chance to better their lives. And amongst those groceries that I purchased were a bag of frozen chicken nuggets and french fries–food I can enjoy when I stop by after my nightly bar crawl. I don’t know if the “what’s in it for me?” aspect diminishes the value of the gift, but in the end, I don’t think it matters either.
Yesterday afternoon I had a visit from one of the gals I’d advanced 1000 pesos for future “massage” services. I was somewhat surprised to get her message that she was ready to come over. As background, she’s a person that was constantly begging for money to cover various emergencies, paying the bills, and feeding her children. After a while, I grew tired of the seemingly endless requests and was ready to just cut her off completely. But before I blocked her permanently I offered her the opportunity to participate in the Friends With Benefits Program–you help take care of my needs, I’ll help take care of yours. I didn’t actually expect her to accept those terms, but I guess her desperation led her to agree. Anyway, I wasn’t really in the mood for anything physical yesterday. Instead, we chatted some, cuddled a little bit, and touched each other in a non-sexual way. It was nice and I compensated her in the same amount I would have done for “full service”. Do I consider that an act of charity? No, of course not. My support does make life better for her and her kids and I feel good about that. That I get something in return doesn’t negate that fact. I’m not saying it makes me a nice guy or worthy of praise, but then again, people helping each other satisfy their needs is nothing to be ashamed of either.
Last night I played darts at Alley Cats. My partner and I took first place.
I didn’t throw my best game, but we did a good job covering for each other’s weaknesses. Good enough to win at least.
After the above photo was taken, I gave my partner my share of the winnings. Really no big deal to me, but it made her night–probably doubling her daily salary. Which says more about how low her pay is than it does my generosity. No other motive on my part but to make her happy. Seeing that smile made me feel good too, so I guess maybe it was another case of quid pro quo.
Anyway, that’s just an aspect of life here. Lots of people in need and you can’t help them all. Selfish fuckers like me have to find a way to pick and choose when and where to provide assistance. Upon reflection, I don’t think my actions are praiseworthy. But I don’t feel bad about my methods either. Maybe that’s not “real goodness”, but the results are real good for everyone involved. And that’s good enough.
That’s how it felt on yesterday’s Hash. What started out as a few sprinkles turned into a deluge that went on and on and on. The hardest rainfall I can recall hiking in. The downpour lasted for the first half of the trail we took, and it was a steady, but lighter rain, the rest of the way. It did stop prior to the after Hash On-Home activities, so there is that at least.
My “sane” group of Hashers actually took a longcut at the beginning–walking the 2K or so to the trail start rather than ride in the back of the Hashmobile. We had a map of what the Hare had prepared, and we planned to do one or two of the hill climbs he had laid out. Of course, the rain washed those plans away. Along with nearly all of the trail markings. Chalk and powder just don’t stand up to torrential rain. When we reached the designated start point you could barely make out a faint chalk arrow. The Hare, Leech My Nuggets, is one of the best at marking a trail. So we knew then there was no trail left to follow. We were already soaked to the skin anyway, so we just continued on and found our own path. Wound up doing 6K which was a challenge given the conditions. All the Hashers who rode out in the truck pretty much just turned around and walked back when they couldn’t find the intended trail. Oh well, just one of those days.
Given the wet weather, I had to keep my phone bagged up in plastic as did the other photo takers. Pubic Head got a few at least:
In the beginning.We weren’t going to be cowed by the rain.The official starting point of the trail. Not much left to follow though…Kids out playing in the rain got rewarded with some cookies…Shelter from the storm.On-Home at Smoke and Bottles in Subic.Rumor has it that Subic has imposed a ban on alcohol.Keeping things in balance.Hashers on ice, rain or shine.Cum In My Basement and mestopped in a Jollibee for some grub after the Hash.
And that’s the way it was. I guess I should just count my blessings.
Greetings fellow travelers on this journey we call life. Here’s a quick update on mine.
Last night I did my usual beer-drinking ritual. I once again began my imbibing at Marick’s place. I did so, in part at least, because I’d received a rather cryptic message from Marick regarding her landlord’s refusal to extend her lease. Wanted some clarity on whether that meant closing down at the end of the month or not. Not as it turns out. She has until the end of October to find a new location. Now, the current venue is tiny, seating only three or four customers semi-comfortably. Most nights I’ve been there she has two or three guests. That’s probably enough to support the low rent for her small space. Unfortunately, the larger spaces she has been looking at are significantly more expensive. There is some question as to whether the limited expat market could generate sufficient clientele to pay the rent. Most bars in town are really struggling without the normal tourist influx. Hard to say when the powers that be will wise up and open the country once again. Meanwhile, small business owners like Marick will be in a pickle.
Anyway, I had a few beers and bought the waitresses a pizza from the shop next door. And of course, some lady drinks to wash it down. Then I moved on to Cheap Charlies for more liquidy goodness. I don’t go there much these days but was greeted like a long-lost friend by one of my favorites there.
Good to see you again, too!
Naturally, I rewarded her with some lady drinks and a nice tip when I departed. And depart I did because hunger beckoned and The Pub had a weekend special on steak tacos.
Damn, they were fantastic.
I also had a pleasant chat with my waitress while I was waiting for my order.
Watching her eat that banana caused a pang of hunger in me that the tacos could not satiate.
Oh well, another time perhaps. This morning, I decided to do breakfast out on Baloy Beach. It had been a while since I’ve ventured out that way, so I dropped into my old favorite, Treasure Island. Friendly greeting from the owner who is also practically my next-door neighbor (there is a vacant house between us) here in Alta Vista. Alas, his kitchen didn’t open until 8:00 and I wasn’t in the mood to wait. Walked up the beach to Blue Rock and sat down at an empty table. Waitress came by and dropped a menu in front of me then walked off without a word. I made my choice and waited for her to return to take my order. And waited. I looked around and didn’t see her. Finally, I just said “fuck it”, got up, and walked out. Didn’t see her as I departed either. Weird. So, I wound up at Harley’s and had some Swedish pancakes for breakfast.
They came with this view.
Two of the gals who provide “massage” service contacted me about emergencies they are currently experiencing. One needs money for her electric bill or her power will be shut off today. The other wanted milk money for her daughter. I agreed to give them each a 1000 peso advance on future wages. One of them arrived within a few minutes of my returning home from breakfast. The other came about an hour later with her kids in tow. That’s a pretty good hike for the little ones from her place. Anyway, if I never see either again I’ll consider the money as a charitable donation. I expect they’ll be back though. They know a sucker when they see one.
And now it is time to shower up and prepare for today’s Hash adventure.
What a life I’m living, eh?
This made me chuckle:
“Fuck a duck, screw a pigeon, go to hell with no religion.” Anyone else ever say that when you were a young smart-ass?
I did my normal Sunday walk this morning. What made it unusual was about 1K in, I felt the urge to poop. Now, I’m a regular guy and I normally take care of business before I even finish my morning coffee. Today was no different. That is why I was surprised by the pressure I was feeling in my bowels. So, what to do? Turn around and head for home? Lately, any excuse to postpone a hike is welcomed, but today I didn’t want to give up. And even though I was on the National highway, finding a place to take a dump was not in the cards. The gas station I passed had a urinal-only men’s room and the lady’s room door was locked. So, I decided to just hold it all in and continue my hike as planned. The pressure mounted, and I was afraid to even pass gas for fear of the dreaded shart. Around the 4K mark, I was on the GOVIC highway and knew I wasn’t going to make it. Plan B was to find some woods and make like a bear. That proved to be easier thought than done. I was going to need some privacy, and that meant getting off the road. But the first couple of footpaths I spotted led to houses and no cover. At last, I picked a spot alongside a building that featured a bush blocking the view from the highway. Just as I was lowering my shorts, a dog appeared and began loudly barking at me. Fuck. This wasn’t going to work either.
I moved another 50 yards or so up the highway and spotted what appeared to be a little-used and overgrown path. I took it far enough to be away from the road and with no time to spare dropped my pants and shit on a rock. I bearly made it. It occurred to me that this was the first time in all the years I’ve been hiking, both here and in Korea, that I had found it necessary to crap without the benefit of a toilet. I hope it proves to be the final time. Well, everything came out okay, so there’s that.
Here’s the hike (sorry, no shitty pics) if you want to Relive it:
Nothing real special to report from my Saturday night. I started out at Marick’s, but my favorite bargirl wasn’t working. I was surprised and asked Marick why someone would be off on potentially the busiest night of the week. Marick said it really wasn’t her business to ask the girls why they aren’t coming to work (I disagree with that premise) but she assumed it was an issue with her husband. WHAT!? She has a husband? I specifically asked her that and she denied it. Marick just shrugged. Man, I was pissed and went on a rant. Marick told me to calm down and so I eventually did, but I wasn’t a happy camper. I had seen this girl at my house a week ago and that potentially put me at risk. I confronted her on messenger later and she continues to vehemently deny having a husband. Said she didn’t come to work because she wasn’t feeling well. So now I don’t know what to believe.
Marick from across the street. Maybe I was being a little too loud.
Left Marick’s place and headed over to my regular hangout, It Doesn’t Matter. Crowded with bikers from the local motorcycle club, but I was able to grab the last outside seat. My old new favorite girl, Roan, took good care of me there.
My sausage is special too, Roan!
Just a couple of brews there and I was off to Mango’s for some supper. Sold out of pork chops, so I went with roast chicken and coleslaw. It hit the spot, then I hit the road for home.
I’ve already told you about my shitty morning, so that pretty much brings you up to date. Oh, I did see the eye doctor yesterday too, and the eyes continue to show improvement. The “new” eye is 20-20 and the other one is still not up to speed. I’ve gotten to where I like not having to wear glasses though, so I might just live with it. We’ll see (or maybe not) about that.
Alright then, thanks for bearing with me while I bared my soul. Yeah, I know the difference. It was all about the pun.
But if you try sometimes, you just might find, you get what you need. Not sure why that song popped into my head, but when you ain’t got nothing, you got nothing to lose. Just like a rolling stone.
Alright, I’ll stop now. There’s nothing that I need and still some that I want, but I’m getting my share. I’m certainly doing alright for an old man. And there is more to life than the ladies of questionable virtue anyway. Like beer, hiking, and darts. I had my share of all three yesterday.
Played in the tournament at Alley Cats last night. Warming up, I was throwing worse than usual. I don’t worry about that much because warm-ups rarely reflect actual performance during competition. Except they did last night. We were playing singles so at least I didn’t have a partner to let down and disappoint. It was a little embarrassing to throw that poorly though. Oh well, you reap what you sow. And poor performance is the dividend that comes from my lack of motivation to practice. Now, if I could only find a way to actually care. Stay tuned.
I don’t make it a practice to mess with the girls at Alley Cats either. Well, not in any physical way at least. There is one gal I teasingly call my “sugar baby” and she calls me “daddy”, but it’s all talk. She’s never asked me for a thing and all I’ve ever given her is lady drinks. Anyway, it is fun to engage her in some repartee and she plays along nicely. She’s big into K-dramas and even knows a few Korean words. Her dream is to visit there someday and I’ve thought about how much fun it would be if I ever got the chance to show her around. I doubt that will ever happen, of course, but it’s fun to kid around about it with her.
Meet my baby girl, Jerlyn. Another sweet 23-year-old. While I don’t really think of her in any sexual way, I’m not blind either. But I like the non-physical teasing relationship we’ve established and I reckon we’ll keep it that way.
Since I didn’t make it to the money round in darts that left some hours to fill on my Friday night. So I headed over to Marick’s for some cold beers and flirtatious banter with another 23-year-old bargirl.
This one makes me forget that I’m 66.She’s new to the bar business but has already mastered the art of making the customer feel desirable in an “age is just a number” kind of way.I do think her sweet nature comes naturally though and she does make me feel special when we are together. Don’t worry, I’m not going to do anything stupid. Just having some fun.
And that brings us to yesterday’s hike. We had a good turnout and managed to incorporate some interesting diversions as we traversed the familiar mountain that includes the frequently hiked My Bitch trail. A relatively short 6K, with one significant climb. Well, for half the group anyway. When we got to the junction leading to the second big hill, some of the group opted to stay on the level ground. For me, it’s about keeping it fun. And huffing and puffing and dreading each step ain’t my idea of fun. Anyway, it all worked out and everyone got to do what suited them best. To the photos then:
A satellite’s eye view of our journey.We started the hike from the Alta Vista community center…Cool shade on a hot day.A grassy knoll. No assassins were encountered.Is anyone tired yet?Those expressions don’t lie!Peak season for thatch grass.Hello again, Easter mountain.Does walking in a line constitute pedo-file?Pausing for a group photograph.Life on the mountaintop.Friendly folk. And the kids liked the candy and cookies we handed out.A water view.I crossed that bridge when I came to it.And so did everyone else.The straight and narrow.You can turn left and do another climb, or take the mostly flat road. What’s it gonna be?That’s called voting with your feet.Charles hands out the last of the lollipops…Welcome to Dynamite Dick’s!
And there you have the lowdown on another fine day in the life. If there’s a better retirement community in the whole wide world than Barrio Barretto, I’ve never heard of it. Or maybe it’s just a good fit for me and my lifestyle. Hmm, maybe I’ll go out and drink some beers and contemplate that question. And if I get lonely, I’m sure there is some lovely lady wanting to experience the simple joy of listening to my wit and wisdom. Or so they make it seem. That’s good enough!
