More about bad tippers

I met someone in the year 2000 that because of a bevy of poor decision making was struggling financially. Three years later that same person received a windfall of money. The windfall was a result of an investment of a few hundred US dollars a decade prior. The windfall was in the millions. I think they refer to this as Capital Gaines in America or at least the IRS does.

Through shrewd investing with said money the person referred to paid less than $60,000.00 dollars in income tax on the capital gains of the million dollars. That works out less than a 2% tax rate.

What I found to be absolutely contemptible was this, the person cries like a fucking baby over paying any taxes.

"Tax rates are too high"
"Tax rates are too high"
"Tax rates are too high"
"Tax rates are too high"

This is his mantra. What, 2% is too high? That person considered Them self above paying taxes. He honestly feels, like many people I've met with money feel, they should not have to pay their fair share.

Warren Buffett went on TV trying to bring awareness to the fact his tax rate (as a billionaire) was much lower, 17.4%  where his executive assistant's tax rate was 35.8%

I was out to dinner months or so after the windfall, of said person, (his treat). When the bill came he calculated the tip for 10%, to the penny and said to me:

"It's not my fault the man didn't go to college"

What a dick! And catholic too boot.

Luke 6:31X
"Do unto others as you would have others do run to you"

All the Catholics I know are what's referred to as cafeteria catholics. They bring out the good book only when it suits them. Only when it's convenient. This is what's I've seen from "Christian's/Catholics" my whole life. They act as if they are above everyone else especially those "Christian's/Catholics" with money. My view of them is this, after gorging themselves like swine they offer up the dripping from their feast to those less fortunate. I view them as having contempt for the less fortunate or this need to be punative to those less fortunate.

Though I was struggling financially at the time I dropped a $10 bill on the table to add to the tip before leaving the restaurant. It was the last time I went into a restaurant with that person.

"Principles only mean something when you stick to them when its inconvenient"

This is a line from the movie, The Contender

Change is in the wind for them.

In 2007 this person invested the lion's share of his booty into real estate. Genius move in 2007, right? (I don't think Warren Buffett was buying real estate in 2007 and if he did he paid pennies on the dollar). Long story short, guess what happened to the real estate holdings? Did baby Jesus spare his fortune? Fuck no. Most of his money evaporated in the thin air.

I think they call this poetic justice...

Man claiming to be pastor leaves waiter note: ‘I give God 10%. Why do you get 18?’

(Link Below to the story I found on Yahoo)

http://news.yahoo.com/blogs/sideshow/pastor-tip-receipt-155914258.html


"A man claiming to be a pastor apparently tried to stiff a waiter on a tip, explaining that his work for God absolved him of having to leave one.

A photo of the receipt, posted to Reddit.com, shows a bill for $34.93 that included an automatic 18 percent gratuity ($6.29) above a blank space for an additional tip.
"I give God 10%," the diner wrote on the receipt, scratching out the automatic tip. "Why do you get 18?" He then wrote "Pastor" above his signature, and an emphatic "0" where the additional tip would be.
The Reddit user who submitted the image explained in the comments section that the receipt was part of a total bill for a party of 20, which is why the gratuity was automatically added.
“Parties up to eight ... may tip whatever they’d like, but larger parties receive an automatic gratuity," the server wrote. "It’s in the computer, it’s not something I do.”
The server added: “They had no problem with my service, and told me I was great. They just didn’t want to pay when the time came.”
Scribbling notes on receipts has become something of a trend.

More on this topic of bad tippers to come in following post

Jan 10th - (Day 6)

My bed is horribly uncomfortable. Horribly horribly horribly uncomfortable. It reminds me of my bed in prison. Hard on the hips. It's got to go.

On the upside I like my new place. It's home. I have a new home, a new place to rest my head. It may only be for six months but it's mine for now. I might decide to hit the coast after six months in the mountains. Time will tell.

My anxiety and stress level have been off the charts since my arival to Chiang Mai. Now that I have a home I am beginning to calm down but it feels like it's a long road to hoe.

I joined a health club. They have a pool and I can get my laps in. This will go a long way towards my feeling better, both physically and mentally. 

The geratric crowd that hangs out at the pool all seem nice enough but I wonder what the wives will say if I start dating a hot twenty something parade her around the pool in a bikini. I'm sure it will not go over well.

Day 5 in Chiang Mai

In Day one of my coming to Chiang Mai I find the nearest 7/11. I go to buy some beers. It's less than a block from the guesthouse I'm staying in. On my way to the 7/11 I pass the Cool Guest House Guesthouse Chiang Mai Thailand:

There is something about the place giving off a French atomosphere. I come to find out it's owned by a French gentelman. On day 5 I decide to have breakfast there. It's about 7:30am and I am in the restaurant alone when a kid walks in. I say kid because he's about my daughters age, 25. He says something and immidately I realize he's French and I responded to his comment. Then he asks if can join me for breakfast.

Wow.

That would NEVER happen in America. In American you would take you seat alone and eat alone and not because you want to eat alone. America is a FEAR dominated society. If you try to dispute this point with me I will have you sit in front of the TV in american and watch the news, local and national every day. The news in America get impregnates with fear. They get it from the news, from the history books and from their God. Fear is how EVIL controls people.

I end up having a fantastic conversation with this kid. He is there with friends and they are waiting for their ride to Elephant Park. His friends show up and the 4 of chat and eat while they await their ride. This breakfast is a good memory.

The realtor picks me up at noon. We look at two apartments (Studios) before heading to see a one bedroom. As soon as I see the one bedroom I say

"Sold. This is my new home". The rent is eleven thousand baht per month or , $360 US dollars. I should have haggled but I was desperate. The realtor should have haggled on my behalf. No referals for him. The truth is, I could not stay one more night in the guesthouse. The unit is overpriced but it comes with so much, flat screen TV, DVD player, Stereo, electric convection range, electric kettle, microwave, fridge, plates, silverware, cups, couch, coffee table..... It's overpriced but not by much and the owners are super nice. In the days to come I would find other appartemnts for rent for seven thousand baht and eight thousand baht per month but they are not furnished or furnished as completely as mine. I lack the ability to be running around looking for a  couch and chairs and whatnot. I am happy to be paying for convience :-)

I only signed a six month lease. That was a mistake. I'll be on a month to month after I leave this place. Six months is barely a hickup in time and I'm out of the guesthouse and it's quiet here. We go back to the realtors office and begin to sign contracts. I give them money, they give me keys. The deal is done.

The realtor is kind enough to take me to the store. First grocery shopping then apartment furnishings shopping. I need things like a set of sheets, some towels and a phone. I get a $20 phone or rather a 600 baht phone. It's fine. It's perfect. It's all I need. I've no one to call but now I have a phone.

You add minutes to your phone here at 7/11. They make it very easy. 100 baht, 100 minutes. The phone came with 50 minutes but I buy 300 more. The 350 minutes last me almost three weeks. 

It's day 5. I've not taken a shit in 5 fucking days but as soon as I walk in to my new apartment alone the need presents it's self. Finally. I was getting worried.  ----- I'm home, now I can poop.

The apartment is set back off the main drag, Nimmanhemian road. It's quiet. Peaceful. I love that part of it.


"What would Love do now"?

Day 4 in Chiang Mai Thailand

I'm almost out of baht and need to make a run to the bank. I'm hiding my hundred dollar bills in my shoes and my shoes are always on my feet. I pull out 200 more and ask the lady at the front desk where the nearest bank is? Just across the moat, Chang Phuak road. Off I go, into the wild blue yonder. The bank is one block away. Not a far walk at all.  

Once in the bank I take a seat and wait. Eventually I notice the process is to take a number and then take a seat and wait to be called. I go to the machine and get a number then go back to my seat.

ding ding ding

My numbers up.

"over here hansome" her eyes say to me. ----- Not really.

The cute teller speaks no English. I produce cash and try to convey the  reason for my being there. A kind gentelman from the counter next to me offers assistance. He is an american and offers up translation services. How incredibly nice of him. He tells me I am supposed to bring my passport for something like this.

"Ok. I can go back to the guesthosue and get it. I'm right down the street" I say.

He conveys this information to the girl behind the counter. I'm ready to bolt and go fetch my passport.

These actions appease the girl behind the counter. She hands me a piece of paper, I fill out what I can and give it back along with the two one hundred dollar bills.

I cannot thank the bank or the American helper enough. I feel like an emotional basketcase. I'm getting sleep but not the rest I need. It all works out because of the aid of the American. I get my baht and leave.

All is well.

All's well that ends well.

I get back to the guesthouse and take a seat in the dining area / garden and order breakfast. "Coffee and a bowl of oatmeal please" Who shows up two minutes later but the amerian from the bank. we are staying at the same guesthoues. Small fucking world.

I can't recall his name but I invite him over to join me for for breakfast and he takes a seat. I get the scoop on him and his life. It's impressive. He and his wife met in Thailand doing volunteer work for a christian organization. That was 15 years ago. They married, had three kids and "adopted" a thai kid. The adoption is informal in that they send money each month to make sure the child is taken care of and they visit each year. These are christian's not talking the talk but walking the walk.

wow. I'm impressed. It's hard not to be impressed. This might be the first actual christian I've ever met. He's doing good. Leadinig by example.

we get into a conversation about God and he starts talking about "fearing god, obeying god and praying to a jealous god"

How can this be? All that effort he puts out and it's because of fear. It's like being slapped across the face.  

After breakfast I am finally able to contact a realtor and schedule an appointment to see apartments tomorrow. I'm resolved in thinking this is my last night in the guesthouse.  

The the expat blogs

 

I spent months reading various blogs in an attempt to prepare myself for life in a foreign land. I leave America informed or at least I feel informed. My mind and thoughts would change from wanting to move to Leon Nicaragua to Chiang Mai Thailand, then from Chiang Mai to Leon. Back and forth and back and forth again. I went on reading, reading this, then reading that. Going here, then going there. The amount of research I did provided comfort in that I was prepared but my level of preparedness was an illusion of the highest order.

Let there be no doubt about the valuable information out there on travel blogs and in travel books. Information is out there about what you can expect and about what your new life is going to be like when you get to Chiang Mai or Leon. But honestly, there is no information available to properly prepare anyone for what they are about to experience, especially for me as I never needed a passport prior to Jan 2nd, 2013. I got off the plane and stepped into a reality I was completely unprepared for.

Prior to August 2012 I had no passport. Never needed one. Why would I? I love America. Why would I leave it? This was my mindset. I'm not asking you to agree with it, this is simply how I thought. I never really wanted to be too far from home. I'd cruised the Caribbean and been in Mexico scuba diving down San Carlos way. I'd spent some time in Kino Bay Mexico on the beach and in a tent with a beautiful blonde with green eyes. Good times, most of them. On numerous occasions I'd crossed the border from Nogales Arizona to Nogales Mexico for lunch or dinner. I went to Cancún, Mexico for my honeymoon with ex-wife number one.

So what. All that amounts to is diddly squat. When I got off that plane after 36 hours of travel time and having traveled half way round the world I felt alone, I felt a loneliness I'd not experienced since my arrival to prison. That seems like such a long time ago. I got off the plane and felt half crazed from sleep deprivation and exhaustion. Things look different here. Things smell different here, things sound different and taste different here. I was completely overwhelmed by how different things could be. I was in shock and that's part of what I was looking for, shock. I was up for a shock to my system. That's what drove me to come here. I was desperate for a shock to my system and putting the  accident behind me from a psychological point of view. It was time to get out of my  comfort zone.

One of the sad parts of this for me was in realizing I was having all these new and exciting experiences and no one to share them with. This thought made me feel especially alone. I felt alone in a way I could not have imagined prior to this trip. I didn't just feel alone, I was alone. I had to keep telling myself:

"You spent eight years as a marijuana trafficker and you thrived in that world. You spent six years in prison (Hell on earth) and thrived in that world. After prison you submersed yourself in the world of Computer Science and thrived in that world. Now you step off the plane into a vacation paradise the likes of which you have never seen or experienced and your concern is what? What makes you think you cannot thrive in this paradise"?

It’s almost ridiculous to worry about anything here but have your moment, experience a dose of self pity if you must but please for the sake of God don’t forget who and what you are.

(uncomfortable pause)

Reality check. Waiting for an answer.

Say it

"Everything’s going to be ok. Things are going to work out".

You damn right they are.  

Thanks for the pep talk but reality is reality. I am feeling tired. I am feeling hungry. I am feeling confused. I am feeling lonely. I am half way around the world with no friends or family in sight.

“These feelings will pass. You will feel better soon enough”

This is a time for a prayer of thanks.

“Thank you God for all you have given me".

Why am I so blessed?

Day 3 in Chiang Mai Thailand

I wake up and and brush my teeth and take a piss. I think this is the routine for most all Americans. Before I head down stairs for breakfast I decide check my email and it's there I find out about a upcoming charge from eBay that I do not know about nor do I owe them any money. I feel panicked. I try to log on to my bank account. I can't. I'm unable to authenticate myself and my computer. Before leaving home I reformatted my hard drive and I had my iPhone stolen by the asshole valet at the O'Hara hotel. This is not good. 

I need to call the bank, like right now but I have no phone. This is a dilemma. I go down stairs and try to communicate my need to make a collect call to the staff. They try to put me through right then and there to no arrival. They advise I go to the TOT office, a local telephone company. I hop in a tuk-tuk and take off.

Getting there is not so easy. Apparently it's a bit off the grid for typical tuk-tuk drivers.

When I get to the TOT office the people inside could not be more helpful. They are wonderful. I have nothing but nice things to say about TOT. First I needed to buy a calling card for 100 baht, ($3.25 US). With calling card in hand the customer service folks at TOT go out of their way to use one of their office phones and dial the number for me. When the phone starts ringing they hand it to me. I get through to the banks world wide contact. After I convince them I am Chip Knight and not some impostor in Thailand trying to rip Chip Knight off they help. I am given a code to enter on my computer that will solve my problems.

I hop back in the tuk-tuk (nice guy willing to wait for me) and we head back to the guesthouse. That part works out well. I go back upstairs and into my room. I log on to the banks website. Now I can deal with the issue of the unauthorized charge but it does not work out. It's a big fucking mess.

The problem is with the bank. I was given the wrong info. I go back down stairs and out to the street where I find another tuk-tuk driver willing to take me to the TOT office (again). It's the same routine times two.

It's at the TOT office I am asked out by one for the customer service reps and she's cute. All I can think to do it give her the name and number of the guesthouse I'm at and my room number. I'm still operating in a fucking jet lag filled fog. I should have given her my email address. Dummy.

Of course I forgot the fucking calling card and had to buy another. I get the bank back on the line and finally get the issue resolved. It took all day and this is how it works here. Everything takes a day. That's all I had the strength for the day. I ended up back up stairs and cried myself to sleep again. What the fuck am I doing in Thailand? How did I get here? 

 

Day 2 in Chiang Mai Thailand

I must admit day 2 is sort of a blur. I wake up at 7am. Wide awake but feel as if I need another 12 hours of sleep. I need more rest, more sleep but my needs are denied. I get up and go down stairs in search of breakfast. When I get downstairs and into the garden area I cannot help from noticing how quiet and peaceful it is. This is nice. This is not like my room. I find a seat and order coffee and oatmeal. My favorite breakfast. The food and drink should bring me comfort, that's the hope.

While sipping my coffee the gentleman/Canadian I met at the airport showed up. He looks like he needs more sleep just as I do. I invite him over to my table. Can't recall his name.

As we drink our coffee I find out more about his situation at the guesthouse. It turns out he's paying 300 baht per night ($10) while I'm paying 450 baht per night ($15). He has this incredible garden view room on the first floor with a great king size bed and it's quiet back in this part of the guesthouse, it's so wonderfully quiet. I'm envious and I don't mind saying so. I'm on the third floor and facing the busy street. My room feels and sounds like Hell. He had a reservation while I had none. As I hear about the discrepancy between our situations all I can think about is punching my ex-brother in law in the fucking face.

"Wing it dude. Don't let the online people rip you off"

Fucking idiot. The man is 50 years old and doesn't have two nickles to rub together. He and my ex wife (his sister) were planning on dad dying and leaving them retirement funds. Unfortunately for them dad got remarried at 70 yrs old. Now the new step mom is going to inherit the money. Oops. They planned wrong.

The Canadian told me about having visited a massage parlour after checking in. That shocked me. He told me about this while searching my eyes in an effort to determine if I'm gay (I think). He got his "rub and a tug". He tried two different massage parlors. The first was a disaster. The entire time he was getting his massage the girl was on the phone gabbing away creating a complete distraction from the experience. Because of this experience he offered a word of advice, tell her while the massage is in process:

"No phone calls"

It's not an unreasonable request. In my mind and in my understanding the massage process is supposed to a peaceful and sarine happening. Soothing music and a peaceful atmosphere. Not a situation where the massage therapist is gabbing away on the phone while giving you a massage.

After a disappointing experience he went down the street and got another massage. The second massage was a much better experience, he got the "rub and tug" he was after and then ready for bed.

After being serviced by the second massage lady she asked him out for dinner and dancing. He looked disgusted while describing her invitation. The odd thing about this is he told me his girlfriend lived in Chiang Mai, she worked as a massage therapist, the legit kind, no rubs, no tugs. He was also a massage therapist in canada, he does massage rolfing. He gets into town to see his girlfriend and take a class on Thai massage therapy and on the first night in town he has sex with a massage therapist lady, albeit a rub and a tug, it's still sex.

I don't get it. I don't get that thinking.

The guesthouse we were in offered free wifi and how I am grateful for that. I can get plugged in and online. The world it out there and I need to know what's happening. Mostly I need to get online to look for better accommodations. I look and find none for the immediate future but my thought process is all fucked up. I literally can't think straight. If I was forced to add 2 plus 2 in my current state of mind and my life depended upon a correct response I would not have survived.

2 + 2 = Tuna. (Bang) Dead.

I cannot think straight.

I decide to get a haircut. I need a haircut. This is my big brave move for the day. This is how fucked up my mind is. I walk around looking for a salon. I end up across the street. Across the moat. I see a pretty girl, a stylist and think, ok, she can cut my hair. Then some old man pops up and grabs my arm. (shit). Ok. WTF.

Here's the painful reality check. It two more days before I realized there was a salon next to the guesthouse I'm staying in. I'm embarrassed to admit that. ----- I was able to see but not see. I was like a walking zombie.

I cried myself to sleep every night while in that guesthouse. Why did I come here? I could have moved to Colorado. Everyone smokes pot there.

For most people they would enjoy being able to walk around and explore their new surroundings. That is a privilege I do not enjoy. I do limited walking and find a video rental place and rent a few movies. The amusing aspect about the video rental store is how they run their business. For 40 baht they burn you a copy of the movie of your choice. I'm delighted at the thought of entertainment in my room, alone.

I fall asleep on my second night at the guesthouse watching a movie on my laptop and crying. What the fuck am I doing here?

.

The Eagle has landed

Friday, January 4th. 5:00pm, Chiang Mai Thailand. I left Chicago's O'Hare airport Wednesday 7:50pm and lost 13 hours in the change of time zones.

After getting off the airplane in Chiang Mai I've not a clue as to what to do or where to go. My ex-brother in law advised I wing-it.

" Figure it out when you get there. Don't get ripped off on one of those websites. They'll charge you twice what you should be paying"

 

Worst advice I ever got. My thoughts take me to a vision where I put my hands around my ex brother in laws neck and begin to squeeze until his fucking head pops off but that thought offers me no comfort.

I spent months reading blogs. I thought I was informed but nothing could be farther from the truth.

 

I'm rolling on 36 hours with little if any sleep. I can't make sence of anything. I'm in a forign land half way around the world. I don't know where to go or what to do. I can't understand a word of what these people are saying even when they speak english. It feels hellish and I the fool with no reservation at a place where I can get a good nights sleep. Sleep, I desperately need sleep. I go here then go there to ask about pricing, about rooms. I'm unable to comprehend the simplest things. I grab a brochure with the name of a guesthouse on it and decide to get a cab and give it a try.

 

First I need to get some local currency. I brought two thousand five hundred dollars American money. What I read on-line was to bring hundred dollar bills as they give a better conversion rate to baht. I change in two hundred and get 30.6 to 1. And what I read on-line was true. They convert 100's different than 50's or 20's. This is all the money I have in the world. If I get ripped off I'll be sleeping in the streets or kicked out of the country.  

 

I ask the girl outside for a cab to the guesthouse. She says:

 

"120 baht"

 

"Is that it" I reply

 

"do I not pay the driver"

 

she says, "you pay me and you pay him more"

 

Ok, I  think. I give her 120 baht which is no big deal, $4 in US money. Even if it's a mistake it's a $4 mistake.

 

While waiting for the cab I strike up a conversation with a gentelmen from Canada. He seems like he knows what's going on. I ask him where he's staying and I get the scoop on that guesthouse. --- I change plans right then and decide to give his destination a try. We tell the driver there is a change in my destination. We are both going to the same guesthouse.

 

We drive through a city and traffic is the likes of which I've never seen. my head is spinning with confusion. I feel out of control. The clothes I'm wearing are all wrong. Long sleeved and it's hot out. I'm hot and overheating.

As we drive through the city the canadian points out one massage parlor after the next. I look out the window of the taxi and see nothing. Well, I see but can't comprehend it, not any of it.

 

The cab driver fails to understand my change in destination and takes me to the guesthouse I initially requested. ----------- Eventually we get to the correct guesthouse and I'm both hoping and praying they have a room for me. ----- I get lucky and get a room.

 

This is a nice guesthouse, the Mountain View Inn Guesthouse. They have accomidations for all types of travelers, backpackers and those needing a little more comfort. The only room available is up  front and on the third floor. 450 baht.

 

"Ok. I'll take it"

 

They ask how long and I'm not sure how to respond.

 

"Two nights"

 

I get to my room and collapse in exhaustion but I cannot sleep. My room is up front, facing the very very very very very very very very very very very very very busy street. I'm forced to turn on the AC and fan, then plug my ears with tissue paper dampened.

 

Eventually I fall asleep.

 

 

B3) Flying from Beijing to Bangkok

It's a Airbus 330. I get a window seat but I feel crammed in. These seats feel smaller than seats in the US. It's probably only a perception issue. Normally I would be appreciating this window seat as I'm about to fly over land I've never seen before but I see an empty row and ask the cutest and most adorable flight attendant I've ever seen if I may move? Once given the green light I'm off for a row of my own. All movement feels awkward and all movement is accompanied with throbbing pain.

In the row I move to there are four open seats, side by side. After the seat belt sign gets turned off up go the armrest and I lay down. it's actually comfortable but maybe at this point anything would feel comfortable. I am ready to drift off for a four to five hour nap.

About an hour into the flight I'm awakened by the sound of someone getting sick. Sick as in vomiting sick. I pop up to see what's what. I can see. It's an Asian lady. I watch her vomit with nothing to vomit in. Her cheeks pucker out as her mouth if full of vomit. A flight attendant rushes over to give her a bag to spew into.

I wonder if it's food poisoning or is it the flu. Are we all going to get sick? what's the incubation period for this flu, I wonder?

she is in and out of the toilet. again I see her vomit with no place to deposit the vomit. the toilet is occupied. she really fucking good about holding that vomit in her mouth. Very nice of her. the flight attendants want to help but they also don't want the flu if that is the deal. 

I begin to wonder what's going to happen if the smell of that vomit hits my olfactory gland? If the vomitatious fragrance wafts find me we could have a chain reaction of vomiting. I've read about it happening on aircraft. One person vomits, then another, and another. Holy cow.

The Asian lady, bless her heart, continues to vomit off and on for the entire flight. I feel sorry for her. That experience dominates my memory of that flight.

Chiang Mai or Leon?

It was a coin toss, Chiang Mai Thailand or Leon Nicaragua.  Round trip flight to Leon was about a thousand dollars cheaper but all the blogs I read focused on how great Leon was as long as you were there with someone. There was very little written about how great Leon was if you were a singlet.

Now, on the other hand, Chiang Mai, every blog you read is filled with how friendly the people are and what a great place to be if you are a singlet. And for those looking for sex, Pattaya is supposed to be the place to be but I read Chiang Mai has a great deal to offer in that department. My first week here I was asked out by two different girls, beautiful Thai girls in their 20's. 

I left America Jan 2nd and have yet to get laid and that is by choice. The massage parlors offering sex hold no interest for me. hookers hold no interest for me. My last encounter with a hooker was November 1984, her hooker name was Samantha. I met her at Tequilla Willies in Tucson. I did not know she was a hooker when I picked her up. After I picked her up we scored some coke. Long story short, I could not shower the experience off and I tried. I had the experience, now lets move on-----

When it comes to sex I'm interested in passion and intimacy. Can't find that at a brothel. Can't find that with a whore.

I can't even understand the appeal of a massage with a "happy ending". For me, I would not be able to get the thought out of my head that she'd just fucked, sucked or jerked off someone else off minutes before I walked in. That is a mental/sexual ambush of desire. No. Not for me.

I might be kidding myself in thinking any hot Thai girl would or could truly fall in love with me as a 53 year old man. I just don't see that happening but time will tell.

What time and experience has taught me about dating women in America who are in their 30's, 40's or 50's is this. I can do without it. They are either fat, covered in stretch marks while possessing saggy tits. Worst of all they have the horribly bad attitudes. They bring nothing I desire to the table. Nothing. No thing. Not a damn thing. Most of them can't help from acting as if life has fucked them over and guess what, they will blame you. They will make you pay for the deeds of others. They seem reluctant, unable or incapable of looking into the mirror and saying:

"I created the life I am living and have no one to blame but myself"

About the stretch marks and saggy tits let me say this, it makes a difference if those things are a result of giving birth to my child or my children.

For years I believed strong willed men are (mostly) attracted to strong willed women. My first wife was strong willed and it created it's share of issues but it also created lots of good stuff so I tend to give that saying some credibility. My second wife was just fucking crazy in disguise of being a strong willed woman.  

I learned from my first wife to NEVER get involved with a Christian again. I learned from my second wife, at the first sign of crazy, drop her like a hot coal. The crazy will only get worse.    

Watching the NFL games

It's been a great season of NFL football and part of me regrets leaving the U.S. before the end of the season. Last night I spent a few hours looking for a way to watch the remaining games on my laptop. There is no shortage of blogs with information on how to watch NFL games on a PC for free but after spending three hours (plus) investigating one option after then next it turned out to be a waste of time. This experience reinforces my dislike for computers. 

I've spoken with a number of Americans here about watching the playoffs and they talk about local bars you can go to in order to watch the games. The only problem with that solution is I hate going to bars.

"Hates IT".

After wasting three hours researching how to watch the playoffs on my laptop for free with NO luck I stumbled onto NFL Game Pass at NFL.com. For a mear pittance ($30) I can watch all the NFL games on my laptop. This is a bargain at twice the price in my humble opinion.

Think about how much you will spend by going to a bar once to watch a football game. Three and a half hours in a bar. It's not difficult to imagine you are going to spend $20 to $30. Even in a Chiang Mai bar.

Even if you go to a friends house to watch the game it's gonna cost you. You cannot show up to a friends house to watch the game empty handed, unless you are an asshole. Some beers or chips and dip, something. Don't be an asshole.

Spend the $30 on the NFL Game Pass, stay at home and invite a friend or two over if you must. In the end this route will be the most cost effective and enjoyable. --------------------------------------------------------------------------------- But most people are like cattle or sheep, they are followers and feel most comfortable being lead by the snout or in the company of the heard or the pack. Sobeit. There but for the grace of God go I!

I paid the $30 and set my alarm for 3am to watch the next game live. When my alarm went off I felt my need for sleep to be more powerful than my desire to watch the game live. I stayed in bed.

I woke up at 9am feeling as well rested as I can get these days. With a fresh cup of coffee in my hands I watch the 49ers take down Atlanta. It was a good game. After the game I went for a swim, got in 40 laps, came home and watched the Raven take down the Patriots. It's gonna be a great superbowl. Alone :-)

Baanchang Elephant Park

My alarm went off on time, 7am. I think my scheduled pickup time is between 7am and 7:30am but not sure. I wake at 7am and immediately make coffee. I'm positive my ride to the park will be running behind but my bag is packed and I'm ready to go. --------  Just as I finish my first cup of coffee the phone rings. They are here.

I'm the last to be picked up. As I climb in the cargo van I notice several passengers asleep. The van is nice. Looks brand spanking new, leather seats, tinted windows and it's quiet. I’m exhausted as I slept like shit last night, partly because of my leg and partly becuase of my level of exuberance relating to my upcoming visit to the elephant park. I feel excitement, like a 5 year old on Christmas morning just before we begin opening our gifts.

I opted for the One Day Elephant Mahout Training Course. They offer a 2 day and a 3 day event. I have enough trouble sleeping as it is. I cannot see myself staying overnight there but maybe another time. Our guides for the day are Oof and Tom. They both speak excellent English and their knowledge about elephants and professionalism make the experience all the better.

 

Foot massage today

Since my arrival to Chiang Mai I have been getting foot massages. There is no shortage of places to go. I tried the whole body Thai massage and did not care for it. They are brutal on my lower back so I've opted for the foot massage. I felt it important to try a few different places and through variety I would establish a real knowledge of what is a good foot massage and what is not so good.

Directly across the street from one of Chiang Mai's nicest shopping malls, Kad Suan Kaew I found what seems to be one of the best places to go for a foot massage, it called Gold Hand, and it's called that for a reason. They have gold hands and do it right. I fell asleep while getting a massage. While at the mall today I ordered business cards. The gentleman said it would take one hour for the cards to be produced. I thought to myself, great, I'll get a foot massage while waiting for my business cards.

If you are at Kad Suan Kaew shopping mall and need to kill an hour I recommend the "massage parlor" across the street. Today was my second time in that establishemnt and once again I left feeling the 160 baht I spent for a one hour foot massage was money very well spent.

Once again I met another extremely nice person, a lady person while getting a foot massage. We were sitting side by side with an open chair between us. She was a language professor from a christian college in california and just so very nice. It was great conversation. She was filled with information about the city an life here in Chiang Mai. She knows Chiang Mai as she's been coming here for fifteen years as an academic, a language professor, teaching English.

After filling me in on her reasons to be in Chiang Mai she asked about me.

"How long are you here for"?

"This is my new home" I declared. And by the by "

"It is also the first time I've ever left America".

Everyone has the exact same reaction. They are stunned.

"I bought a ticket to Bangkok with the intention of ending up in Chiang Mai. I packed a bag and said AMF and hit the road"

"You are a brave man"

I don't feel brave or maybe I do. I feel desperation and desperation is a powerful motivator. Harness that power and you have something.

I went on to tell the professor:

"I cannot conceive of a situation I could encounter anywhere in the world where I could not handle it. I think it's different for the ladies. They are not nearly as big and strong as us guys"

We (men) have more going for us with size and strength but I have a sure fire way out of any potentially violent/harmful situation. Ninety percent of the time I estimate it will work every time.

Here's the scenario, I'm walking down the street. It's late. No one around. I'm limping as I walk. To the predatory animals laying in wait for me I appear vulnerable, wounded, an easy target. Out pops a bad guy or two, or three. One of the evil doers produces a knife or a gun while demanding my mula, cash, denaro. Here is what to do.

Step 1) Begin crying. Not quiet crying. Begin crying hysterically and as loud as you can. The louder the better.

Step 2) Urinate. Pee your pants, right then and there. Pee down the side of your leg and brother if you don't got to pee you summon it. You summon that shit from deep down within. Think (believe), it's pee or die. If you make yourself believe it, it's easy to do. Fear is a powerful motivation but instead of succumbing to fear, use it.

So there you are, crying hysterically and you have pee'd your pants. Next is the most crucial move.

Step 3) Vomit. Pretend you ate a bad snail or something like that and vomit the shit out.

Picture it, crying hysterically, peeing down the side of your leg and vomit down the front of your shirt. Who in their right mind would continue to stay in the company of such a person?

I've never actually tried this. This is theory and conjecture. If anyone takes my advice I'd like to hear how it turns out. I'd like to build a stistical database based on the numbers for those who try this.

After picking up my business cards I met another very nice couple the mall while shopping for sandles. More about them in my next blog.

Cookies

After signing a six month lease the realtor took me grocery shopping as I needed food and a few other things for my new apartment. The realtor is a super nice guy, very helpful and informative about all the things a newcomer to Chiang Mai needed to know. While shopping I bought a box of cookies. ----

Cookies are a simple thing I suppose and I'll bet they are to be found in just about country. When I tasted these cookies, Thailand cookies, I did not care for them. Not sweet enough. Not nearly sweet enough for my taste.  

One week after moving in I need a snack, something to hold me over till meal time. I decided to give the cookies another try. I grabbed one and munched it down. Wonder of wonder. How truly wonderful they are. ---- Had my taste buds changed in just a week? I guess so.

My first hangover in years

Three Chang beers produced one heck of a hangover. My alcohol consumption during the past couple of years has been reduced. After I turned 40 alcohol began to affect me differently, my sleep. That was all the inspiration I needed to back off from drinking.

The first year after the accident I began drinking like a fish. If I could not kill the pain I was going to drown it in alcohol. The medications I take to not mix well with alcohol. It was my family doctor that spoke to me in a way that actually scared me about mixing booze and pills. He infused terror in me about booze and pills.

Eventually I realized I was drinking because of the PTSD and stopped drinking altogether for about six months. When I did begin to drink again it was just beer and wine. A couple glasses of wine or a couple of beers and that was enough. Even a couple of drinks affects my sleep and that helps to inspire me to stay away from booze altogether or as much as I could.

The hangover from the Chang beers provided all the inspiration necessary to remove alcohol again from my life.

B4) Smiling Faces Sometimes

 

 

 

"Smiling Faces Sometimes"

Smiling faces sometimes pretend to be your friend
Smiling faces show no traces of the evil that lurks within
Smiling faces, smiling faces sometimes
They don't tell the truth uh
Smiling faces, smiling faces
Tell lies and I got proof
The truth is in the eyes
Cause the eyes don't lie, amen

Remember a smile is just
A frown turned upside down
My friend let me tell you
Smiling faces, smiling faces sometimes
They don't tell the truth, uh
Smiling faces, smiling faces
Tell lies and I got proof

Beware, beware of the handshake
That hides the snake
I'm telling you beware
Beware of the pat on the back
It just might hold you back
Jealousy (jealousy)
Misery (misery)
Envy I tell you, you can't see behind smiling faces
Smiling faces sometimes they don't tell the truth
Smiling faces, smiling faces
Tell lies and I got proof
Smiling faces, smiling faces sometimes
They don't tell the truth
Smiling faces, smiling faces
Tell lies and I got proof
(Smiling faces, smiling faces sometimes)
(Smiling faces, smiling faces sometimes)


I'm telling you beware, beware of the handshake
That hides the snake
Listen to me now, beware
Beware of that pat on the back
It just might hold you back
Smiling faces, smiling faces sometimes
They don't tell the truth
Smiling faces, smiling faces
Tell lies and I got proof
Your enemy won't do you no harm
Cause you'll know where he's coming from
Don't let the handshake and the smile fool ya
Take my advice I'm only try' to school ya

B2) Arriving to Beijin China

 

It’s almost midnight when we arrive in Beijing. I exit the aircraft and get hit by a wall of cold. I mean freezing cold. It’s difficult to believe this is normal. The inside of the airport is so cold you could make ice cubes. All the vendors are shut down and the place is quiet as a morgue and freezing cold. All I want to do is find a place to lay down and sleep, a warm place. I’ll snuggle up to my backpack and take a nap while waiting for my next flight.

First order of business is getting my passport stamped and getting to the right spot for my next flight. Where do I go for customs, which line? Where’s the gate for my next flight? What line should I get in? I ask someone with a uniform and he points to line #2. The line moves like molasses. Slow. Eventually I get to the official and he says no, wrong line. Go to line #4. I’m tired, I’m in pain, frustrated and cranky. Eventually they get it right and I get processed and pointed in the right direction. I/we end up in a warmer part of the airport. This is a relief.

Now I look for a place to lay down and take a nap. As soon as I find one and lay down I begin to worry about falling asleep and missing my flight. Escaping stress and anxiety seems a difficult task not to mention getting rid of one of the passengers from the flight. He seems intent of following me around and I have no tolerance for that. Not looking for a travel buddy. He’s weird and awkward and I want him gone. I wonder how he would react if I began punching him in the face over and over again. --- whew. I am in pain. I am tired and cranky.

My fucking leg is throbbing. I count my pulse through the throbbing in my leg. 85 beats per minute. That's high. It's normally around 60, maybe 70.

My initial plan was to find a swimming pool, maybe something in a hotel nearby. I would use my seven hour layover to go for a swim and get a massage. That was fanciful thinking.   

I find a place to lay down. As I lay there I extend my right hand up and reach to the heavens. I have nothing to ask for from the Universe. I have no real needs at this time, at least not the kind of needs one calls upon for from the Universe. All I suppose I'm looking for is the connection and I remind the Universe I'm still here if the Universe needs something from me.

The hours drag on but eventually the ticket counter opens and I’m able to get my boarding pass for the next flight. I find my way to the gate. By the time I get to that gate I have 2.5 hours before boarding begins. I find a seat and try to get comfortable, an impossibility at this point. A family of Russians take the seat directly across from me. I guess the language they are speaking to be Russian. The father is wearing a tshirt with the word “Russian” across the top. I point to his shirt, then to him and ask “Russian”? He nods but it’s an unpleasant nod. Ok, not the friendliest of Russians, that’s for sure. He’s not friendly and he stinks to high heaven. Fat, slothful looking and smelly. Smelly stinking Russian.

I read on several blogs that Russians like to vacation in Thailand. It’s affordable for them.

B1) My flight to Thailand

Not wanting to miss this particular flight I decided to stay at the O’Hare Hilton. Horrible choice as the valet stole my iPhone. Motherfucker! It's my fault. I left the darn thing in the car. That's a no-no. I knew better but I was feeling distracted to say the least. Leaving America. --- On the phone was my music and my audio books. Things I need and wanted for the flight over. 
  

Beyond nervous as I board the plane. What am I doing? What the fuck am I doing? I shed terror through my pours like perspiration in a steam bath. Not a good time to be at a poker table. I’m thankful not to be. Flying aboard a 777 for the first time. This is one nice aircraft and big. Even though it’s a big jet they add no more room to our seats unless you spend the thousands of dollars necessary to get to first class or business class. For the rest of us, we are the sardines packed in tight. Snug as a bug in a rug.

I spot a person of interest up front in First Class. He's 6'3" maybe 6'4" a thick-neck, corn-fed Navy SEAL-looking guy but he's just to big to be a SEAL. He's a professional athlete. The flight attendant enlist his help in closing an overhead  bin. He does not look happy at the request. I wonder why?

I see an open seat up front. It’s the seating row just behind business class. I make the move there because that row of seats gets a little more legroom and this is good for my leg. Seated to my left is a girl, she looks like a college age girl and this kid is quiet as a church mouse. She speaks only a few words the entire flight. Sitting to my right is batman. No kidding. Bat fucking man. ---- he looks like batman or rather the newest actor to take on the role of batman. We have some nice conversation which helps the hours pass.
 

Batman is a trial lawyer traveling to Beijing with his son as part of a group tour. They are on vacation. Their second vacation to china. A few hours into the flight we have been fed and the lights begin to go out. One or two here and there. Then a few more and a few more. Before you know it the plane is dark and quiet. Perfect sleeping situation but I can’t sleep. Still too nervous.

Eventually I get to my backpack and find my bottle of Valium.10mg. I take two and hope they will do.

Everyone on board has their own TV with a decent variety of movies and TV programs to watch. The movies and TV programs are a perk of the 777. We also have a monitor up front to watch. One of the viewing options on the 777 is the flight path. It's pretty darn cool. I watch the flight path as we fly due north over Lake Michigan. Then over Canada. Then I see Hudson bay. The water looks cold. the monitor showing the flight path also displays air speed, ground speed, ETA to our arrival destination and outside temp. it's sixty below zero at thirty five thousand feet. 

The Valium fail to penetrate the veil of stress I’m experiencing. How I wish I had my iPhone and my music, my books, my meditation audio files. It’s not too be.

The first leg of my journey takes me and all aboard this 777 from Chicago to Peking China. The flight was brutal. Nothing short of cruel and unusual. Thirteen and one half hours in an airlines seat. Coach. My ass hurts thinking about it.

Note to self: when on a thirteen hour flight stay away from the drinks. It’s torture ending up in the restroom as it reminded me of a biological disaster right out of a Steven king movie. I had no beer or excess liquid so I made just a couple of trips to the head. Unfortunately I begin to feel the uncomfortable internal pangs of my bowls in some sort of distress. They need to be evacuated. That’s really unfortunate.

Into the jon I go. I'm quick to realize I need to do some clean-up before I sit my ass on that disgusting urine soaked seat.   --- I decide to take my leg brace off when in the jon. My timing could not have been worse. As soon as I get my pants down we (of course) hit some turbulence and I begin a forced pirouette in the jon. I'm thrown from wall to wall to wall and fear it sounds like a boxing match from the outside. ---- Eventually I get seated and for what? All that effort and energy for a turd the size of a walnut. Good fucking grief.

Then it's back to my seat.

I try to sleep but the effort feels completely useless. I feel as I am tossing and turning in my seat for an eternity. This could be hell. It's a flight out of Rod Serling's twilight zone. After what feels like only a few hours of flying time the plane begins to wake up. Lights begin to turn on just as they went off, one or two here and there. Then more, and more. Eventually the majority of light come on. I look up the monitor and see we are ninety minutes out. How can that be?

As it turns out I did sleep. Must have slept for better part of eight hour. As the cabin comes back to life I am feeling the need for an alka seltzer. I have none. Any time my stomach is upset alka seltzer is the cure. I go back to speak to the flight attendants and inquire about getting an alka seltzer. They have none but one of the flight attendants recommends a glass of club soda "it's the same thing" she declares. Really? I did not know that. I'm desperate and agree to her offer. She pours a glass and I slowly drink and hope for the best.

I make another trip to the jon but this time I hit a jon in the back of the plane. This one is much cleaner. I finish the soda and produce a couple of well meaning burps. Ah, just like the alka seltzer. It worked, my tummy feels much better. All is well.

I go back to my seat and prepare for breakfast. Pizza? "no thanks"

before long we are told to prepare for landing into Beijing airport.