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The Bad Seed or How I Went from the Outhouse to the Penthouse

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OK, I’ve gushed about Janet often enough that you can tell that I like her pretty well and think she’s a great wife. But lest you think that all Filipinas are like Janet – well “it ain’t necessarily so.”

Janet wasn’t the first girl I met in the Philippines. Actually she flat out wouldn’t meet me when I first planned visiting the country. “I’m not interested in being part of your collect and select,” she declared when I suggested that we could meet in Cebu, where I was planning on meeting a couple of other candidates. No problem, I thought. There are plenty of the proverbial fish in the lush seas in and around the Philippines.

Naive guys go to the Philippines thinking getting around ought to be as easy as renting a car and taking off. But again, “it ain’t necessarily so.” The country’s made up of 7107 islands; the biggest ones are reached by ferry, not car. And if you are a brave enough soul to rent a car and drive in the Philippines, just let me know and we’ll alert the ambulance services and morgue, though not necessarily in that order.

I had scheduled a flight from Manila to Cebu and booked a hotel for a few days. One very compelling girl I was chatting with lived in Mindanao. I looked it up on the map. Only one island over from Cebu – how far could it be? She lived in the southern portion of the island. I didn’t know or care at the time that that was a dangerous area, filled with rebels – allegedly. All I knew was that there was a cute girl there who wanted to meet me – how dangerous could it be? The next thing I knew we decided to meet in Davao (she took a long bus ride to get there which impressed me) for a day and then fly to Cebu the next day.

The three days went by in a blur, a pretty hot blur I have to admit. After parting, I traveled a bit more around Manila and then spent a week in Vietnam, before returning to the U.S. We chatted every day online and by the time I returned I was pretty hooked.

While in Cebu, Kathy (name changed to protect the guilty) asked, “When are you coming back?” I hadn’t thought about that at all but instinctively said, “Spring break – April.”

The four months whizzed by. We chatted online every day. It was fun, exciting, sexy; just like relationships with most Filipinas. I decided to go all in so to speak, so in April I took her for a week to Boracay. Now for those who don’t know, Boracay is the most famous tourist destination in the Philippines. The long, white sand beach is spectacular. Parties happen up and down the beach. Each night tables magically appear for dinner on the beach. It’s fun, sexy and romantic – and hot as hell in April.

The place is filled with tourists from the U.S., Europe, China and Korea. Less so Filipinas (except for the staff) for whom it’s generally too expensive. Cebu Pacific Airlines flies to Boracay but the normally inexpensive commuter airline is for some odd reason damn expensive if you want to go to Boracay. Add the costs of upscale hotels and meals and it’s just not a place the average Filipina has visited, without a “rich kano” boyfriend or husband.

Personal Note of Guilt: I haven’t yet taken Janet to Boracay and it is – well, a bit of an issue 🙂 Don’t worry baby – it’s gonna happen!

The week was exciting, sweet and sexy and by the end we decided to officially be in a relationship, meaning we declared it on Facebook, which has replaced the silly formality of a wedding as the only modern way to make relationships official. My friends were excited for me; that is those that weren’t appalled. Her friends friended me and chatted online, happy to meet Kathy’s boyfriend.

The week was exciting, sweet and sexy and by the end we decided to officially be in a relationship, meaning we declared it on Facebook, which has replaced the silly formality of a wedding as the only way nowadays to make relationships official.

Yet despite all the excitement, I remained cautious. The hairs on the back of my neck tingled enough that I told myself and her that I would visit the Philippines a few more times, before I got really serious. She agreed entirely, not wanting to rush into marriage. That in and of itself should have been a red flag.

A month later, chatting and talking started happening a bit less; the excuses made sense, but nevertheless I worried. Eventually she laid the boom on me. Her father was seriously against our relationship and wanted her to cut it off. She and her dad weren’t speaking but they were fighting. I wrote her dad a serious and impassioned note and asked her to give it to him. She assured me it wouldn’t  matter – that his mind was made up – but I was equally insistent that she try.

Why was he against the relationship? Because I was a foreigner, much older than Kathy, and because I was not a Mormon. Oh, yes, I failed to mention that Kathy was not the standard Catholic Filipina; she was Mormon. At one point I had spoken to Kathy’s brother and he asked me if I understood just how important it was for a Mormon to marry in the temple and this would be impossible if Kathy were not marrying another Mormon. I began to investigate the ins and outs of Mormon and non-Mormon relationships and assured Kathy that I would in no way interfere with her religious beliefs.

Another week passed and Kathy sadly informed me that her father was adamant and that in the Philippines not obeying the wishes of her father regarding marriage, particularly as a Mormon, was impossible; so sadly we would not be able to see each other again.

It seemed so ironic. Here I was nearly 60 years old and for the first time in my life the parents didn’t like me. In the past the parents, particularly the mothers, always liked me. It was their daughters who were a bit less enthusiastic.

By then I had already booked my next trip to the Philippines which we had been planning. What should I do? I licked my wounds but wasn’t down for long. I had discovered that I liked the Philippines very much and Filipinas even more. Perhaps there was another one out there for me; Kathy had been magnanimous enough to encourage me to go find another.

Of course I had been chatting with Janet for about a year and she was the person I wanted to meet (and that bit of drama will get written up eventually). I had been telling her of the struggles with “my girlfriend” and Janet was sympathetic though disinterested when the subject of said girlfriend came up. Truth be told, Janet was pissed as hell that I had “chosen” another girl. But something was to happen first to change everything.

A week went by after our forced break up. We made it official – by removing the “in a relationship” status on Facebook, via a sad click of the mouse. Then, one Saturday morning I was checking FB. I was still friends with several of Kathy’s friends. And there posted on one of her friends walls were pictures of Kathy in white wedding dress. A full blown set of wedding pictures, party and all followed.

I was incensed! The guy was another American, and while not as ancient as me, he was no spring chicken either. For all I knew he wasn’t even a Mormon!
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I wrote Kathy a furious email telling her in no uncertain terms that I didn’t give a damn that she had another boyfriend who she decided to marry, but that at the very least she should have told me the truth instead of the fairy tale about her dad not approving.

Two days after the wedding Kathy and I were back chatting on Facebook and she told me the whole truth – finally. Seems that the man in question was a friend of the family and had supported the family (aka given money). She told me she didn’t love him and loved me but “I am obligated.”

Worse yet, the man was ill, terminally ill with cancer. I remarked that he “looked pretty damn healthy to me.” He traveled with his nurse, she replied. His dying wish was to marry her and between the man and her family, she felt stuck.

“I love you,” she said. “Not him. But I will do my best to be a good wife.”

Back on my end of the chat, nervous laughter became hysterical laughter at the depth and lunacy of the whopper I was being told. I calmly reminded her that with the lengthy Visa process there was little chance that she would be able to enter the United States before her poor husband passed away. “He has connections to speed it up,” she said. She had a line for everything; damn, she was good.

Fortunately, the depth and nuttiness of the lies made it easy for me to move on and to move on up.

A couple months later, unexpectedly, I heard from Kathy again. “Are you still planning to come to the Philippines in October?” she asked. By this time Janet and I had decided to meet.

“I’ll be in Cebu,” I said and I told her the date.

“I will be in Cebu then too,” she replied, “getting my passport.”

“Are you implying that we meet?” I asked, stunned at her gall.

“No, no, of course not. I am sure by now you have a new girlfriend,” she sneered.

“And I am sure you are still married, right? By the way, how is your husband doing. Must be hard not being with him in his dying days.” I threw in an “lol,” one of the rare times it seemed totally appropriate.

“He is fine. I will take care of him. Maybe he will get well, God willing.”

I heard from her one more time. I was packing on the October morning I was going to fly to Cebu to meet Janet. She obviously remembered the date and thought she’d needle me one more time and hint that we ought to meet, except she knew that I was “already taken.”

Over the months I had received a few bits and pieces of information from friends of Kathy’s. The new husband had asked her to marry him several weeks before I met her in April and she’d accepted, meaning that entire trip I was sleeping with an engaged woman. I’m such a slut!

Her parents had not known of my existence, but at some point prior to the wedding her father found out. A religious man, her father hit the ceiling at the notion of his engaged daughter playing around with another guy and forbade her from contacting me. So I suppose in a weird way her story about his opposition did have a kernel of truth. I truly believe that in her twisted mind she figured she would get married and while the Visa process was happening meet me in October for fun, games and prizes.

So what’s the point here, other than to tell a funny story at my own expense?  What did I learn? I went halfway around the world to the Philippines and got f-ed over, but good. But I must admit I sure as hell enjoyed the f-ing.

This is my cautionary tale – we all must be careful when it comes to any type of relationship – but by learning and remaining confident and true to my goal, I ended up a hell of a lot better off, going from the outhouse to the penthouse.

 

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The Age-Gap Rap

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It doesn’t take a Rocket Scientist to figure out what people think when they see Janet and I together in public. Now first of all I have to say, that most people have been very nice and respectful to us. We haven’t had some of the big troubles that many Fil-Am couples living in the U.S. with large age gaps report.

OK, there was the one incident we had at a resort. Eating dinner, a 30ish woman sitting with her husband kept turning around to look at us. Apparently she thought if she looked our way often enough I would get younger or Janet would get older. Janet and I were giggling about it. Finally the woman turned around one more time, Janet gave her a little wave and mouthed “hi.” That ended that with me cracking up!

Then there was the grizzled 80+ guy who looked at us, snarling in disgust, though it’s possible that the look he gave us had more to do with his recollection of who he had to go home to than anything Janet and I were doing. It’s also possible that he no longer could remember what Janet and I were doing – and how often.

But other than that, it’s been good. When we go to the mall, sales clerks are very helpful, no doubt thinking that the old husband is gonna spend big time on the young wife. They go away a bit disappointed.

If you’re interested in an excellent article on the whys and wherefores of the May-December relationship, this won’t be it. My friend, Henry Velez, has published a really good one @ May-December Relationship. Check it out – I’ll wait.

I don’t like the May-December stereotype. While I might accept that the bloom on Janet is comparable to the month of May, I refuse to accept that I am a cold, frigid December. At the worst I am November; ok, maybe late November – Thanksgiving time – turkey and pumpkin pie – that’s me. But anyone claiming I am a December is gonna have problems with me. I’ll likely kick his ass, once I’ve taken my medication.

I don’t like the May-December stereotype. While I might accept that the bloom on Janet is comparable to the month of May, I refuse to accept that I am a cold, frigid December. At the worst I am November; ok, maybe late November – Thanksgiving time – turkey and pumpkin pie – that’s me.

Looking at it honestly, why should I be offended? If someones thinks I am interested in Janet because she is young, beautiful, vibrant and sexy, what should I say? “Thank you, she is.” OK, I’ll throw in a wink just to be really annoying.

It’s what they are thinking about Janet that is more egregious. I suppose if someone said something nasty to her I would be offended and have a few choice words. But Janet is a self-assured woman and knows who she is. She’s told me all along about money and marriage, “Money is important, but I would never marry without love.”

And here’s where this whole age-gap thing perplexes me. My grandfather was married to a woman 25 years younger than him and it seemed to be the most natural thing. They were a strikingly attractive couple since not only was there the considerable age gap, there was also a considerable height gap, as my grandfather was no more than 5’4” and my Aunt Ruth loved high heels and towered over him. I don’t think many people asked Aunt Ruth why she was married to my grandfather; it was obvious. He was a powerful, attractive and successful man. His hair was nicely kept and he had most of it. He wore cologne. He drove a Cadillac for God’s sake! And no one would have asked him why he was married to her; that was equally obvious. They were married over 20 years until his death. Contrary to current opinion, for most of history the age-gap in marriage has been a common thing.

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Let’s face it, the real reason modern Americans are put off by the age-gap is our refusal to admit that in this modern, enlightened, 21st century – men are still shallow. We unabashedly love younger, attractive women. Their youth, their energy, their excitement, their beauty; it’s all good. American women want us all to grow up and mature. For what? I’m just like my grandfather, except the Caddy has turned into a Bimmer.

Jack Nicholson said it best, “If men are honest, everything they do and everywhere they go is for a chance to see women.”

Filipina women, like their American counterparts a generation or two ago, want a man who is mature, worldly, knows how to get things done, knows how to deal with emotional ups and downs, and has enough cash to pay for a decent, if not luxurious, life with the aforementioned Bimmer or Caddy. (OK, the Caddy and Bimmer line’s a joke!) What’s wrong with that? I have heard many people say, “Filipina women want to marry older Western men for a better life.” Gee that sounds terrible. What woman in her right mind wants to marry a man to produce a worse life? For that matter what man wants to marry a woman for a worse life, although those of us who are divorced feel like we did.

So what’s the real reason some people object to age-gap relations between an American and a foreign woman? It’s the same reason that not too long ago many objected to inter-racial marriages. It’s the same reason until very recently many people objected to homosexual relationships and marriage. It’s not political, it’s not social, and it’s not religious. It’s completely about sex. Most of us (certainly most Americans) are more than a little bit squeamish about where and who a man puts his thing into. For some bizarre reason we feel absolutely justified in judging “you can’t put that in there.” Really and truly – I am not joking here. Humans are very judgmental about who and where you put your goodies.

I remember being 19 years old; a mature college man. I came home for spring break and somehow my younger sister and I got into a serious discussion with our mother about sex. My mother, who at the time must have been all of 39, was telling us that she and our father still had a very active sex life, thank you very much. I was nearly made apoplectic by the image. Despite what I realize now (that they were still quite young) they were my parents and I didn’t want to know what they were doing to each other. Moreover, like most young people, I didn’t want to know that older people still had sex. How dare they? Their job was to get old and set up the rocking chair, not get old and get busy!

The biggest problem I had when I first went to the Philippines and realized that younger women might be interested in me was my own attitude. I had to convince myself that it was OK. I had had a couple years already to deal with the issue. Like most divorced men today I sought my next partner through technology. I joined Match.com and began a year of intense self-reflection and frustration. By the end of the first year I estimated I’d gone on 70 first/coffee dates. I’d had less than ten second dates and only a handful of 3rd or 4th dates. But I was drinking a lot of coffee. All the women were close to my age. I was getting nowhere and I was surprised. Here I had finally grown up; great job, a bit of money, nice house, good kids, a working car; and very little interest. Truth be told, I wasn’t interested in the women either. Oh, I tried to be but mostly I was bored.

I then made the fortuitous and desperate decision to contact a woman 20 years younger than me. Blond with tattoos (full sleeves I later learned they were called). We began talking and then dating and then – well, you know. I was enthralled to connect with anyone, let alone someone younger. She had energy and enthusiasm for life and for me. But I felt guilty. Something must be wrong with me I assumed. I couldn’t connect with women my own age yet was having a blast with the young hottie. What was wrong with that picture? Unfortunately it became her job to remind me that I was OK and we were OK and that she preferred me. Foolishly, it took a long time for me to accept.

I spent that year finally allowing myself to enjoy being a man with a younger woman. Once I realized that I was following in the footsteps of my grandfather and cousin, then I was ready for the Philippines, where the women have no idea why a May-December (or November) relationship is supposed to be so bad.

So guys – get over it. Don’t worry about what others say. Despite appearances to the contrary, no one really wants to know where and who you’re sticking your thing into anyway.

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The Philippines is Just the Same as the U.S.

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Now I know the theory in the title seems like an oxymoron (or maybe I’m the oxy-moron) but bare with me – it’s brilliant 🙂

I’m on a couple forums where guys say they’ve been to the Philippines and it’s terrible. Now, tastes are different, no place is for everyone, etc. But what really shocks me are assertions that Filipina women are unattractive, unavailable to Western men, dumb, and most egregious of all – not sexy. I have been to the Philippines six times and started thinking I’d accidentally gotten off the plane in the wrong country – six times.

While issues like food, weather, beaches, culture, friendliness might be subject to personal tastes and interpretation, sexy Filipinas and their availability to Americans surely cannot be.

As my friend, Dave DeWall, says, “even a poor sap can have a face like a dog’s butt and still seem attractive to many of the cute Filipinas residing in the Philippines.” You can’t get much more definitive than that!

As my friend, Dave DeWall, says, “even a poor sap can have a face like a dog’s butt and still seem attractive to many of the cute Filipinas residing in the Philippines.”

The first time my friend, Pete, arrived in the Philippines, he couldn’t even get out of the airport before getting hit on. Now I will admit that Pete is a pretty tall, decent looking middle-aged guy; he’s also pale with a long nose, a big plus with Filipinas. Going through immigration, the immigration lady smiled, stamped his passport and said, “Welcome to the Philippines, Mr. Guapo.” Guapo means handsome, for the uninitiated.

I started to wonder, how could I have had such a different experience than the naysayers? Granted, my face is a little better looking than a dog’s butt, but not by that much.

After years of intensive sociological research, I think I have come up with an answer. And here’s why the Philippines is just like the U.S. – at least regarding “meeting” women.

——

The United States has always been known as the “land of opportunity.” Ask anyone who’s never been here. Every single day an American sees ads for high-end merchandise, luxury cars being driven by men with attractive wives and 2.5 kids. He drives through neighborhoods with million dollar houses, and reads about the lifestyles of the rich and famous. And many of us go home and moan “why not me?” It’s one of the great frustrations and cause of much angst and anger in the U.S. How can an idiot like Donald Trump with that monstrosity on top of his head have so much, and we have so little? Life sucks and the portions are so small.

When it comes to meeting women, the Philippines is the “land of opportunity.” In a future post I will detail my further sociological theories on why Filipinas love men in general, often love foreign men, even with the aforementioned dog’s butt face. But for now, let’s just assume I’m right. If you need further proof, just look at the pictures of me and Janet. I’ll wait.

OK, you’re back and I proved my point, right?
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So a guy saves his pennies and heads for the Philippines. He is not accosted in the airport or anywhere else. He is shocked to see few attractive women; perhaps he’s fond of blonds with big boobs and finds to his surprise that there are very few blonds with big boobs in the Philippines!

Of course there was the girl he met in EDSA, but turns out she was expensive and in fact not totally a girl.

So now our frustrated tourist or expat becomes angry. “False advertising!” he yells. It’s not enough for him to say that he didn’t enjoy his experience or lick his wounds and acknowledge he hadn’t found the right girl for him, although truth be told, he was still texting with that cute EDSA ladyboy.

No, he must claim that no one can find a decent woman in the Philippines. He screams that the guys who claim success either need glasses or their women are, dare I say it – poor. Yes, “alert the media,” most people in a developing nation are poor. The guy in question wants a blond with big boobs and disposable cash. Add to the fact that he wants a girl conversant in all aspects of his Western culture, who will sleep with him on the first date, and screw like a porn star. So, he concludes, Filipinas suck, and not in a good way.

But what’s his true frustration? He walks around Manila, Cebu or even ventures into small provincial Philippines, sees Western men with their Filipina girlfriends or wives, and kids too, and doesn’t get it. The guys he sees have the proverbial dog’s butt face, plus Trump’s hair, but with wives half their age, and they’re not half bad. Therefore it must be that the guys have money and spread it around and that the girls are bad and “only” interested in the guys’ money.” That’s it – that must be the reason! After all, our naysayer in question is probably a bit younger; too young to admit his face is also in dog butt territory.

So, like the American, angry about the money all around him that he can’t get for himself, our tourist is angry about all the seemingly available women he can’t get in bed. And thus I have proven that for some, the frustration in the Philippines is the same as in the U.S.

——-

So where’s the disconnect here and what’s the solution? Contrary to some beliefs, Filipinas do have standards. You just need to understand what they are looking for. Most are not interested in being your “vacation girlfriend.” I have already told the story of my asking Janet to meet me the first time I went to the Philippines. She knew I was meeting others and was not interested in my “collecting and selecting.” It wasn’t until almost a year later that we finally met.

However, Filipinas might be interested in you if you:

1. Are interested in a long-term or permanent relationship. While there are exceptions, most Filipinas will not volunteer to be part of your Asian sex tour. But if you express an interest in a genuine relationship that “might” lead to marriage – you’ve satisfied qualification one.

2. You have your shit together! If I have to explain what this means, then you probably don’t. You’re unmarried, employed, have a decent place to live. You’re mature and have life knowledge. If you have kids, you take care of them. In short – you’re not a bum. This disqualifies a lot of the guys who visit the Philippines.

3. You are at least willing to try to learn about her country, culture and family. While you don’t need to run out immediately and learn Tagalog or Visayan, show an interest in the country and in her family. Just referring to everyone as the “locals” might not be adequate.

——

So these are some of my basic recommendations for a foreigner visiting the Philippines. One other thought: if you’re actually handsome, genuinely guapo, with a face not remotely in dog’s butt territory, you might consider passing up the Philippines. You’ll never get out alive.