Yes… yes, I know. I have fallen into the traps that I imagine many people who start a Blog fall into. It’s just amazing how life and all of its distractions are able to pull ones attention away from things that one would hope to keep up with or complete. Self involvement is like a tranquil tide is to a untethered ship floating leisurely in the vastness of an open sea. Gradually and without perception, the daily routine has pulled me away from many of the things that I planed on doing. I imagine many a relationship and a desire has befallen this same sort of fate. Well, here I am paddling back to the shore and wishing to cling onto the things that have slowly fallen from the clear and tangible present to the fading hazy memories of the past.
As my time passes without documenting the common simple occurrence of daily life here in Chiang Mai; the occurrences begin to stack up and I perceive the task of telling all that has happened to be a daunting one. Maybe it’s just that I don’t want to bore the reader with what I perceive as mundane and in line with the same experiences of all of our everyday lives. Also, I; like an old man in a lounger repeating old stories to those that have the patience to listen, have a tendency to repeat stories, words, people, events and all other echoes of the long-ago. So, if you have the patience, here is another pondering of meshed up experiences from the old man that rest within me and who seems to find his voice coming out more and more.
Not sure exactly where to start, so I will just begin with today and work my way back to those memories that jump from the dark into the light of my perception. Bed time was a little late last night and I didn’t find myself rousing from the images of previous experiences assimilating into some sort of coherence until 8AM. Once I climbed from the comfort of sleep, I got the water boiling in the kettle for some locally grown tea I had picked up at a street market near my home. Sipping my morning tea (normally I’m a coffee drinker, but the only readily available coffee here is instant and I am just plain tired of the powder mixture), I perused the news of the day then got through the daily morning routine. 9AM, I was out the door, in my backpack were books I wanted to try to pawn off to a few of the local used bookstores near Siam Gate on the old mote of the City. First, I wanted to stop by a little cafe attached to a Bed and Breakfast that I like to frequent, to see if I could get a friend of mine to make me a tasty bowl of Khaw Tom. Unfortunately that friend was not working this morning, so I talked to another friend that works there for a bit. Poor girl was in a motor bike wreck the other day and had her foot bandaged up. So very glad that I had to give up on that idea of driving around this town on a scooter. Living by two hospitals, I see many a bandaged up limping foreigner trying to shuffle their way to the curb to hail some mode of transportation. Also, I am a terrible driver, and if you factor this variable in with the variable of all the other terrible drivers out here driving with the fearlessness of youth and naive beliefs of immortality; then you understand why it’s simply one foot in front of the other for me. Hell, it’s also just nice to have all the walking time to think, to listen to audio books, to music, and all the sounds that this city is able generate. It took me about an hour to get from my starting place down to the book stores, where I was only able to sell just one of the five books that I had brought with me. And so, having completed my chores for the day; I headed to the park that is located near the west side of the mote surrounding the old City. On the way to the park, I found a little place in which to get a bite to eat. 30 more minutes of walking after enjoying a nice plate of Pad Thai, I found myself at a local park where I laid out a little rented mat on the soft green grass by a small man made lake and picked up reading where I had left off.
There is something so nice about reading a good book in the shade of a palm tree, while listening to the sounds of a splashing fountain in the distance, fish creating little drops of sound as they come up to retrieve pellets of food that small children sprinkle into the water smiling with anticipation of getting a glimpse of these large vibrantly colored Koi, the much welcomed sound and feel of the cool wind coming through the flora and brushing the heavy blades of grass, and even the cooing sounds of the pigeons as they pander for a little morsel of what the fish are getting. This orchestra of nature around me was very conducive in allowing me to really get immersed in the book I’m currently reading by Cormac McCarthy called Suttree. The story is about a guy who lives in a small house boat on a river near Knoxville TN. Sitting by and hearing the sounds of water as I read the book was just great. After spending a few hours reading and napping, I headed on back to the homestead. 40 minutes of walking took me back on home. Once home, I just got back to reading a bit more, practiced guitar for an hour, watched a good BBC documentary on the worlds population and its exponential growth, very good, and now I am here trying to catch up on this darn Blog of mine. See there, I told you, it’s all just a pretty boring story. Pretty much everyday is about the same. Of course there are more experiences left to tell, experiences of parties with interesting people, parties with go go dancers and bands, parties with so much food and so much drink, the story of a dance class that allows only nonverbal communication and promotes a lot of eye contact, of golf, of language class, and of great random encounters. 
Now to get to those memories from days which have slipped into the past. Last week I was invited to a going away party for a friend of mine who runs the Eco Lodge where I stayed a few months ago. Festivities were to begin at one in the afternoon and extend into the wee hours of the following morn. In order to pace myself, I decided to arrive at the party mid afternoon and got there a little after 3:00. Upon my arrival it was obvious that these fellow party goers had begun sucking at the teat of Backus flask much earlier than the set upon time of one. It turns out that they started the pig roasting at nine AM and began putting back the drinks around the same time. Placing the pigs flesh over the flames and heat of white hot coals to get the meat to just that tasty tenderness, was something that I wanted to see. Cooking in such a primitive and ritualistic way is something that I really enjoy seeing and being a part of; I was sad I missed it. Still though, by the time I got there the meat was cooked, cut and served. Very tasty and served with many a Thai dish as well, also there was wonderful variation of potato salad to munch upon. Oh, and a French baker brought by a basket, I mean that, the fifteen freshly baked large begets were brought in a wicker basket; that bread smelled so good. The cornucopia of food was served without cost to the revelers, thanks to the gracious nature of our host; drinks though, were being sold at the bar. After purchasing a large bottle of Leo, I got started on the intensive battle that was to be my lunch. Such battles are always a win and a loss depending on the time that passes from consumption to lethargic content patting of ones engorged belly. As the contentment of over consumption of sustenance and drink rolled over me and lethargy began to take hold, a very short in stature group of Thai cowboys began to arrive with all sorts of instruments of sound. One guy carried in a stand up base, he looked like he would collapse at any moment from the massiveness of the apparatus. Following him, were large bongo drums, chimes, amps, guitars and all sorts of other percution instruments. Members in the band all wore boots, cowboy hats with feather rings rapped around their brims, necklaces that varied. The chains clinging to their necks were made of mother of pearl, turquoise, gold and bone. The venue was beginning to take on what I imagine an old dusty bar from the days during the colonization of the wild west. Whiskey bottles were all about along with shot glasses filled for sipping during the momentary intermissions of play. All types of music was being created in this small corner in the open air bar, it ranged from an old country sound that was sung in the words of the local language as well as recognizable classic rock tunes being voiced in the familiar language of my own neck of the woods. After having several more tall beers and sharing in just one shot of whiskey with this band of what would be called heathens in the times of spurs, chaps, and outlaws; I headed into the quite still night for my long walk home. There were great conversations, wonderful people, great food, and great music to be heard that night. Sleep came on me as solidly as a large boulder tumbling from its perch high above. But before the impact of darkness washed me away from consciousness; I kicked off my shoes and felt like a cowhand bunking down for the evening. This was a nice way to find my slumber but how the following morning wiped away any notion of joy from that night before. Then there was that party that took me out into the outskirts of town. This party came out of nowhere and I was ill prepared for such an event. My lack of preparedness probably had to do with the fact that the night before I had enjoyed another gathering of ladies and fellows, along with a bit of the Hong Tong. Anyway, a friend that I had not seen in four months called me up and invited me to a birthday party. Although I was tired from the night before, this was an invitation that I was not going to be able to decline. 7:00 PM, I was picked up by my old friends and we got to the shin dig around 7:45. There was a table of homemade Thai dishes laid out and bottles upon bottles of whiskey and rum jutting up from ten different tables that had been set up for the night’s activities. This place was set up with a stage that already had the drum kit, large bongos, chimes, guitars and a Karaoke machine all set up and ready for use. Someone filled a glass with ice, whiskey and soda, and then handed it my way, now the evening was beginning. After having a plate laden with a variety of taste and starting my second glass of whiskey and soda, I started to mingle. It was so nice to see so many acquaintances that I had enjoyed spending time with during my first months of arrived here in Chiang Mai. My ability to speak Thai had really improved, so I was able to communicate much better than I had during our earlier interactions. Unfortunately, all those that I spoke with must have thought that my Thai was better than it really was. Each person that I had a conversation with started to speak so quickly, too quickly for me to catch the entire meaning of what they were trying to get across to me. Having a few glasses of tan liquid didn’t help with the speaking or the listening either. By the fourth glass of whiskey and soda, the band was in full swing and two go go dancers were up on stage moving about to the Thai tunes. The ladies made their rounds from table to table and from chair to chair. Someone slipped one of them 50 baht and pointed towards me. Next thing I know I have this scantily clad young lady closing in on me like a lioness cornering the gazelle she has chosen to pounce upon; and pounce she did. Being preyed upon was a nice situation to be in and it was nice to sip upon my glass of liquid courage as the sensuality of this beautiful girl enveloped me. I must say that my self concept has been given an extreme boost since arriving here in Chiang Mai. This must be what it feels like for the English when they show up at some teeny bopper drinking establishment in America speaking with their country of origin’s accent. A few of the ladies out here have nick named me “Hollywood Handsome”, how can this not go to ones head. Soon enough a humble state of reality will be my existence; but until the day I set foot back in the states, I will enjoy all the attention being given my way. After the girl left my lap, I found another table of friends to drink and converse with. Karaoke started to crank up around 11, the band stayed on the stage and those stepping up to the mic were accompanied by the band. Around midnight, the drinks and the lack of sleep were beginning to take hold of my will to keep on going. Only one more hour after the twelve chimes was I able to be a part of the music, the dancing, the laughing, and the lively conversation. After finishing the last sips that fell from my upturned glass, I found the carriage that brought me to this congregation; there I laid the seat back and found myself in a fine state of repose. It was close to 3AM when I was shaken from the blackness and asked to bring the seat back; it was time to head back home.
There are many more stories to tell, but for now, I think that I have written far too much and will give the eyes of those reading this a little break. Tonight, I am going to a celebration and charity event for one of the temples near where I live. A friend of mine is going to be singing in a competition tonight and I said I would be there to lend my support.
Soon, I will be leaving Chiang Mai, so I will do my best to try to at least finish up a few of the descriptions from events past. No guarantees though.
