Category Archives: Thoughts from the expats corner
Jack Corbett has now been living full time in Thailand as an expat. This category encompasses a wide range of thoughts and subjects from the perspective of being in a strange land thousands of miles from the United States where the culture oftentimes seems to be 180 degrees apart from the values and beliefs of the West.
Pattaya Police stopping sober drivers will certainly drive foreigners from Thailand. But it is equally true with the Pattaya Police stopping drivers who are el blizzoid drunk, a little drunk, or who have been drinking in moderation. This is being done in the interest of public safety. But In my opinion public safety is no concern whatsoever to the police. In the last 14 years, I’ve never observed a single example of the police stopping a driver for running a red light or illegally driving against the flow of traffic. And I mean, not once. Small wonder that Thailand rates number 2 for having the world’s most dangerous roads. The reason is enforcing the law to make the streets safe doesn’t make money in a country where money is number one.
If you don’t believe me just come to Pattaya during Songkran and watch all the motorbike drivers getting assaulted by high powered water guns while the police watch.
But if the police continue stopping motorcyclists for drunk driving, they will succeed in killing the goose that has laid the golden egg. If Pattaya stops being fun, we are left with a place which still has the second most dangerous roads in the world. And where pedestrians wanting to cross the streets must scurry across like a bunch of scared rats.
Rotten Tomatoes gives the Red Baron a 20 % tomato meter score with an audience approval of 43 %. I give this German movie 9.5 stars out of ten.
The beginning is riveting. The end is simply a masterpiece. After seeing the beginning of the movie I lost the scent. The movie’s about World War I German pilots so when it occurs to me that the actors are speaking with a British accent, I put the movie on pause and go to the Rotten Tomatoes reviews to check them out. A 20 % tomato rating based on the scores from 25 reviews sent to Rotten Tomatoes is horrible. But the fact that only 43 percent of all viewers liked the movie means I just might like it. This is because I’m an old guy with old fashioned values who feels totally out of sync with the modern generation, which I find to be spoiled, lazy, and fat from eating too much junk food. So I decide to get back to the movie and continue watching it for the time being. The chief reason for my giving this movie a chance was I have always been completely fascinated by World War I fighter aircraft and even more fascinated by Baron Manfred Von Richthofen, the World War I ace of aces, who was responsible for shooting down 80 Allied Aircraft. In his time he was the best of the best, a man who would become the most legendary pilot of all time. And if you don’t believe that consider this. Another German pilot, Erich Hartman would become the top scoring ace of World War II after shooting down 352 Allied aircraft but whose name do you see on one of the most popular pizzas sold in America? Red Baron.
Well, I was wrong. About the only actor in the film who’s English is Joseph Fiennes. Then the movie takes a turn to the usual love plot that destroys far too many war movies. It’s about then that I realize that nearly all the actors are German and that this movie is a German production. So what am I getting here–a German version of “Pearl Harbor” which is 5 % about the bombing of Pearl harbor and 95 % about a love affair that never even happened, and even if it did, who cares? But in spite of this, I keep watching the movie which keeps getting better all the time. The action video of World War I aerial combat is fabulous while the depictions of the fighter aircraft are absolutely stunning.
By the time I get 50 % into the movie I’m hooked. There might be a love affair in the movie, but so what? This is a great war movie that bears no resemblance to “Pearl Harbor”. As to the love object of the movie, I not only care less if she might have existed only as a nurse who treated the Baron for a head wound, who never got past the usual patient-nurse relationship–I prefer to keep her in this movie even if the real Kate was more myth than reality.
I think Kate, is a conveyance that the producers skillfully employed to bring out the humanity of the real Baron, a hero of epic proportions whose humanity and charisma is hidden by the passage of 100 years of time and the very primitive black and white photography and video of the time. And as I’ve already indicated, the ending to this movie is an absolute masterpiece. Without Kate, this particular ending would be impossible. But the invention of Kate is nevertheless a historical inaccuracy which many of the Red Baron’s detractors claim is unacceptable. But to produce a true artistic masterpiece which is what I think this movie is, I find this Historical inaccuracy to be necessary to give this movie the power it conveys. It is likely to bring many viewers to tears.
How about another complete Historical inaccuracy? So far as I know, the Baron never met Captain Roy Brown, an English pilot who will later be credited with shooting down the Baron. The truth is the Baron is likely to have been killed by Australian ground fire although the British pilot would be given the credit to boost morale. But early on the Baron shoots Captain Roy Brown’s plane down. (which never happened). But a short time after landing his airplane at the German fighter base, Richthofen and several of his German fighter pilot buddies immediately leave the base to inspect the fallen British aircraft which has crashed only a few miles away. The German pilots save the Englishman’s life when they pull him out of the crashed plane and promptly get him medical care. This never happened either (to Captain Brown) and later in the film when Richthofen meets Captain Roy Brown again and the pair become fast friend, well that never happened either. At first the complete historical inaccuracies over the Red Baron–Captain Brown relationship really upset me, but after viewing the entire film I realized that the invention of Roy Brown’s coming face to face with the Baron on such occasions was being used like the invention of Kate, as a tool to express the true kinship that actually existed between the German pilots and their English foes that made the pilots of both sides truly worthy of being called “the knights of the air”.
But here’s my favorite Historical inaccuracy of them all. A short time before his death, Werner Von Voss is explaining to the baron that his plane is his entire life. He’s doing something very special to his plane, he tells the Baron. So who exactly is Werner von Voss, you might ask? For one thing during World War I he was second only to the Baron with 48 victories. He’s also quite possibly the greatest German airman who ever lived, perhaps even greater than the Baron himself. But who’s to say who was the greatest of the great? If there is any truth at all to all those old Viking legends about a Valhalla, one can be sure that both men would be living there today as two of the greatest warriors of all time. So how good was Voss? For one thing he was a terrific mechanic who doted on his plane day and night. And as a true knight of the air–Voss was unsurpassed in both skill and bravery.
They don’t show it in the film and some of the movie’s critics fault the movie for not showing the death of Werner von Voss. On his last flight he’s flying a Folker Dr 1. (Richthofen himself would die in a Folker Dr 1 a few months later.) The Folker Dr 1 is the famous tri plane that the Baron would paint a blood red. The plane had a terrific rate of climb and wondrous handling, but it could do only 103 miles an hour. But on his last day of life, Werner von Voss found himself in combat with 7 British pilots flying SE-5 biplanes that would do 130 miles an hour. All 7 of the British pilots were aces credited with at least 5 victories each. Yet Voss took all 7 of them on, and more than held his own for over ten minutes. By the time it was over, Voss had damaged at least two of the enemy aircraft enough to make them crash land while inflicting damage to every single one of his foes with his machine guns. Several of the English pilots would later say that on numerous occasions Voss could have escaped to fight another day by using his superior rate of climb to break off from the British fighters. Instead, he fought on until he was shot down. But during those ten minutes he put on a dazzling display of turning and twisting his aircraft in a series of impossible maneuvers such as the British aces never saw before or would ever see again.
As two of the victorious English aces later reported. (Arthur Rys-Davids would shoot down 25 German planes while McCudden would shoot down 57 German aircraft).
“As long as I live I shall never forget my admiration for that German pilot, who single-handed fought seven of us for ten minutes and also put some bullets through all our machines. His flying was wonderful, his courage magnificent, and in my opinion he was the bravest German airman whom it has been my privilege to see.” James McCudden
“If I could only have brought him down alive…” Arthur Rhys-Davids to James McCudden
The film could have shown the last legendary flight of Werner von Voss. Instead, it shows the Baron hearing about it from a British communication complaining about a German pilot that had been recently shot down who had stolen a British Bentley engine which he had then stuffed into his Fokker Tri plane. At that moment the Baron knew that the German pilot who had just been killed could only have been Werner von Voss. But of course the real Werner von Voss never put a Rolls Royce engine into his German fighter. But the way the incident was played off, as untruthful as it was, it was a terrific convention to show just what kind of man Werner von Voss was–a man so dedicated to his airplane and so dedicated to his craft that no one else could touch him. This was a man who was forever tinkering in an endless search for perfection and whose flying skills were so awesome that it took 7 British aces 10 minutes to kill him. This was a hero for all time.
No doubt the Baron’s grief reached the lowest ebb it had ever been with the death of his friend, mentor and rival, Werner von Voss. And I think that in spite of my wanting to see the immortal combat death scene of von Voss, the little lie of the Bentley engine in a German fighter served as an even more powerful tool for convincing the audience how great Voss really was along with the very powerful bond between the two German aces.
And this now brings us to the final scene of the movie. Like a Wagnerian opera the 2nd half of the movie slowly shows the tragedy that is about to unfold. One by one nearly all of the Baron’s comrades are killed. He sees his own end approaching, and yet, he’s unable to do anything about it. And this is where the historical unfact of the nurse who loved him comes in. The film focuses upon Richthofen’s final hours. You know the man’s going to die, and by now you thoroughly like him. He’s fun. He’s capable of loving a woman to the utmost. He is a wonderful friend to have. To his enemies he’s a chivalrous man without equal. Finally you see him fly away through his lover’s eyes never to return. The last scene is Kate being escorted by Captain Roy Brown to the Baron’s grave two weeks later. Flowers have been placed on the grave by British air force pilots. Two white ribbons have been placed across the flowers that read, “To our Friend and Enemy, Manfred von Richthofen.” This ending scene recalls the beginning of the movie when the Baron, Werner von Voss and their pals disobey orders from their superior by flying over an English funeral to throw a similar bouquet of flowers and note on the grave of a British airman they had shot down. As for the third appearance of Captain Roy Brown, one must remember that he’s the man combating the Baron when the Baron gets shot down. Once again he symbolizes the chivalry, and mutual respect for their adversaries that the British and German fighter pilots shared along with the great dangers they shared.
The death of Richthofen was of course the stuff of legends. No one knows for sure whether one of Captain Roy Brown’s bullets got lucky and killed him or whether the Australian infantry nailed him with a machine gun. Again, no doubt it was a machine gun from the ground that shot him down. Or perhaps even from an infantryman’s rifle. But that’s not the point. A single .303 bullet entered his chest severely damaging his heart and lungs. But in spite of it, he was able to land his aircraft practically undamaged before dying in the cockpit muttering something like, “I’m kaput” to the first ground troops to get to his plane. Like Voss’s, his death was worthy of a Wagnerian opera.
The movie’s not quite perfect which is why I give it 9.5 stars out of 10. The historical inaccuracies are to me marvelous conveyances that are fully intended to put a new spin on both the Baron and Werner von Voss. The acting is superb. Matthias Schweighoffer plays a completely likable and believable Manfred von Richthofen. Both the beginning and end of the movie are unforgettable. And now that I’ve seen it I want to find out a lot more about both the Baron and Werner von Voss.
Pattaya Police gave JB the Pattaya Breathalyzer test for drunk driving not once but five times. But JB had not touched one drop of alcohol. In fact he had just done one hour on the elliptical machine, burning off 750 calories–good enough to negate the calory content of 7 beers. His gym clothes were in his backpack, smelly and soaking wet from all his sweat. He was just five minutes out of the shower at the fitness center and was now on his way to dinner at a neighborhood restaurant.
It was 7 p.m. He was just one kilometer away from his own condo on his way to a relaxing dinner with his girlfriend sitting behind him on his motorcycle when four or five of Pattaya’s finest loomed in front of him. But Pattaya’s finest incorruptibles stood in his way forcing him to stop. Pulling out his Thai driver’s license, he told the Thai policemen that he had nothing to drink whatsoever. So they gave him the Pattaya breathalyzer test making him blow into the scurrilous device. Unfortunately for the police, the breathalyzer showed no alcohol in JB’s system whatsoever. But the police were doing without so it was time to press the issue. So the police officer with the Pattaya breathalyzer figured, “If at first you don’t succeed it’s time to try again,” so he told JB to blow again and to narrow his mouth more, which JB did, of course, out of due respect for the law. But it was still not good enough for the policeman who asked him to narrow his mouth even more. His mouth just two centimeters wide, JB blew a third time, and once again the Pattaya Breathalyzer failed to show any signs of alcohol. One more time the Pattaya Police officer asked JB to narrow his mouth even more. It now took real concentration to blow. Visions started to fill JB’s head of Gold Fish and gay guys smoking lady boys with small appendages . His mouth now narrowed down to form a 360 degree ellipse no larger than a straw he blew once more, but still no signs of alcohol. Finally the police let him continue on to the restaurant.
But oh well. Exercise is good for a man. And it’s good for the soul. So now that the police are out giving breathalyzer tests to motorcyclists, it’s a good time to get back to our roots and start walking those beers off.
Thailands Killer Buses and the explosion of Chinese tourists are terrorizing the country’s residents and devastating Thailand’s infrastructure with no end in sight. Let me give you a few keywords and phrases for why this terrible state of affairs is unlikely to change such as:
Chinese tourists, greed, police incompetence, money number one, fearless leaders of Chinese tour groups,
Here in Thailand tour buses are completely out of control. And the number of rampaging tour buses is exploding along with the numbers of Chinese tourists who ride them. In Thailand’s cities, notably Pattaya where I happen to live most of the streets are too narrow to accommodate them while the cities planners never created enough parking for the 1.3 billion wanna bee Chinese tourists who want to come here. Traffic problems are getting to be horrendous due to the vast increase in tour buses and the total incompetence and greed of government officials and police who have been entrusted with the public safety. So just how deadly have these tour buses become? Just two examples should be enough to give you the real picture of this sad state of affairs:
Last week, a friend and I were crossing North Pattaya Road on the Best Supermarket (East) side of Naklua Road. There’s a traffic light here where motorized vehicles are supposed to stop when the light turns red before turning left onto North Pattaya Road from Naklua Road. There’s also a cross walk for pedestrians and a pedestrian walk/don’t walk light. So here’s my friend and I walking in the cross walk with the pedestrian sign giving us the “Walk” go ahead and we are supposed to be crossing the street in safety?
No way. In seconds we are reduced to the status of rats darting between the speeding cars running the red light. And as if that’s not bad enough, a tour bus suddenly speeds through the light, around the corner, and we are reduced to a state of quivering jelly as we freeze in the middle of the intersection hoping that we are not gunned down by the moron the bus.
Two days later we are once again crossing North Pattaya Road at the same pedestrian cross walk. And sure enough, we find ourselves pathetically dodging all those cars again. Luckily we emerge unscathed on the other side of North Pattaya Road where Naklua Road suddenly becomes Second Road. But this time there’s a police officer just thirty meters away from us on the other side of Second Road. This police officer’s been stationed there for one purpose alone and that is to stop motorcyclists who are not wearing their helmets and for other “victimless crimes” such as having a license plate that is 2 days out of date. But is he doing anything about all the out of control motorists across the street? No way.
My second example concerns the death of a friend who died a few months ago from his injuries that were inflicted by another tour bus (note that I did not use the word tour bus driver here). The man was driving his motorcycle to the Tiger Zoo in Siracha with his son sitting behind him. I wasn’t there, and I never had the chance to talk to him about it later because the victim wound up with permanent brain damage. But a very good friend of mine back in the United States who was a very good friend of the victim and the victim’s wife reported by e-mail:
“yes the details were and are sketchy…but hes bk at home reading a lot of ebooks…but is terminally..due to brain tumor…on his accident..I got a broken thai/English message that said he and his kid were on motorcycle..tour bus pulled out in front of him..no way to stop…kids was sitting in front but marty leaned over and took the hit with his head so the kid didn’t get hurt…during this time they found or it caused another tumor”
I seem to recall that the official position on the accident was the victim had fallen asleep while driving his motorcycle and that he rear ended the tour bus as a result. Yeah, right! When’s the last time you ever fell asleep driving a motorcycle?
The Chinese have recently replaced the Russians as the single largest foreign visitor group coming to Thailand. But here’s the key difference. Russian tourists just like their American, British, or German counterparts are not nearly as driven by the herd instinct as the Chinese. Like their fellow Westerners from the U.S., Europe, etc Russians are not typically herd animals. They are individualistic and therefore inclined to arranging their own transportation as individuals, couples and small groups using taxis, baht buses, or motorcycle taxis. The Chinese are different and travel everywhere in large groups that I condescendingly refer to as the “Chinese Army”.
Here’s the way such Chinese Armies work. A company that arranges tours in China books a tour for a group, and this company is out to make the largest profit possible. Either before or after the tour group of Chinese reaches Thailand a “Fearless Leader” is assigned to shepherd the flock of sheep to all the tourist attractions, restaurants, bars and hotels that either he or his bosses decides the herd cannot do without. Commissions or kickbacks are given to the fearless leader from all the bars, restaurants, hotels, and other tourist attractions the herd is taken to. It is the fearless leader’s mission in life to get the maximum amount of commission money from his flock (I mean herd).
Let me give you a couple of examples. Back in 1982 I was on a tour of Americans visiting Japan, Hong Kong, Singapore and Bangkok. When we got to Hong Kong from Japan, we picked up, Larry, our fearless leader, a young Hong Kong Chinese, who quickly became a good friend of mine. Our group went practically everywhere by bus. In our group there were a number of Jews from Los Angeles who all knew each other quite well. There was another Jew from New York, named Al, who no doubt detested his Jewish brethren who probably despised him just as much in return. Now all these people might have been Jewish but there was a huge difference between Al and all those West Coast Jews.
When we went to the Royal Palace in Bangkok, everyone went on the bus except Al. Everyone of us had to pay a bus fee and an admission fee to the Royal Palace. When our tour group got to the Royal Palace, our fearless leader, Larry, handled everything for us. Meanwhile Al arrived on his own, having figured out early on how to use Bangkok’s taxis and bus services. And at the Royal Palace, Al went up alone to the ticket counter where he paid his own price of admission at half the price the rest of us had to pay through our fearless leader.
Al made is a point to learn how to get around in every city he visited. And more often than not, he’d choose his own restaurants at one third of the cost or even less that the rest of us were paying at the restaurants that had been chosen for us by our fearless leader.
Then there were all those handicraft shops and factories we’d visit as a group. We’d go somewhere to see jade figurines being made in a small factory. The next time we’d go to another outlet where glass objects were being made. The next stop would be where clothing was being made out of silk. And you should have seen all those West Coast Jewish women went wild in all those factories and handicrafts shops. Their eyes were literally bulging out with greed as they all went on a spending frenzy. But not Al and his wife. If they bought anything at all it was at other shops that had not been carefully picked out by Larry or his bosses which sold comparable goods at one third the costs these pre-selected shops were charging.
Later Larry confided in me about all the commissions he was getting for his boss back in Hong Kong. The man had two, not one Rolls Royce limousine at his opulent home on Victoria Peak, Hong Kong’s most prestigious and expensive residential area.
Well guess what—Times have not changed. All those “fearless leaders” of tour groups are still raking in all those commissions and all those Chinese with their herd mentality are just foolish enough to go along with it. (Not that those L.A. Jews weren’t or that Al proved the complete outcast of any such herd).
Now here’s a real classic. One of my neighborhood bars is owned by a Thai woman I’ve known for years. She typically charges 85 baht for a bottle of beer. One day a Chinese man stopped in and the bar owner asked him if he wanted a beer.
“No Thank. I wait for Fearless Leader. Then we decide.”
Along comes the rest of the tour group. The fearless leader draws the bar owner aside and asks her what she charges for a bottle of beer. She tells him 85 baht.
“I want you charge special group price he tells her. We pay 145 baht one beer, Okay? You give me 50 %..”
“Fuck off the bar owner tells the Chinese Army Fearless leader”.
And off trudges the Chinese Army as each Chinese carefully places his foot in the footprints of the Fearless Leader. I suppose that’s why many of us Thailand expats have been going to this Thai woman’s bar for the past nine years. It’s like a small island in an ocean where money is always number one. Gotta love the old gal.
But here we must step aside for a moment to consider that here in Thailand money is truly number one and that China is ruled by the same lack of ethics. Speaking for Pattaya, which is the only place in Thailand where I”m actually living and can therefore be writing about from the perspective of having a lot of first hand knowledge, the government officials and police have zero respect for public safety or even human life. If such people had even a little love for their own countrymen or self respect for doing their jobs well, all these tour buses would be immediately expelled from the city as soon as they discharged their passengers to whatever hotel the group was staying at. All those Chinese would then be reduced to the same sorry state as all those Russians, Germans, Canadians, Japanese, Americans, etc who somehow manage to arrange their own transportation whether it’s by baht taxi, motorbike taxi, mini bus or by just plain having to walk.
And just think about this. If Thailand’s cities such as Pattaya actually started to enforce its traffic laws, it might actually become reasonably safe to cross the street. Driving motorbikes would become much more safe if all these city officials and police ever got their faces out of the cesspool bucket of money number one excrement. Shops either at the hotels or at outside shops could start renting both bicycles and small motorbikes. Unless it’s raining, what better way is there to get around? For that matter I can drive my motorcycles 365 days a year, even on those days it is raining so long as the downpour is not too severe.
But oh well, I am just a visitor here. I am not Thai so it’s not up to me to tell Thais how to do things. For that matter I cannot get my fellow Americans to stop voting for the Traitorous Republican Party which is now being led by the Neo Nazi lunatic fringe. of the Far Right wing.
Two men were responsible for the three point plan, the perfect fool proof blueprint for winning the battle of the sexes, Saint Perrier and my Father.
When Saint Perrier started giving me lessons on how to apply the three point plan, I was teaching school in Saint Louis. Saint Perrier became my only friend on the High School teaching staff. A black Afro American, Saint Perrier taught biology while I was teaching History and English. No fool, Saint Perrier, had developed the perfect concept on the planet for dealing with women–his three point plan which bore his personal guarantee for a lifetime of successful relationships with women.
“First, you gotta have a front program,” Saint Perrier said in a calm voice. “Now, your front can be your wife or your steady girlfriend. She’s the woman you can show off to all your friends, to your mother, and the entire community you are living in . She’s gotta be good looking, well dressed, well-spoken, and have good manners. Just think of her as always wearing a white dress.”
Then Saint Perrier’s voice picked up. He became agitated. His eyes glistened with excitement. “Then comes your sneak program. Now this is the woman you keep in the closet. The last thing you want to do is to show her off to your family, and your wife or girlfriend can never know you have a sneak. You might not even want to have your friends ever see her. She can be good looking, and then again, she might not be. The main thing is whenever you fuck her you have a jiggerhouse fuck.”
“What on earth is a jiggerhouse fuck?” I asked.
“Well, it’s a wild motherfucking anything goes fuck,” Saint Perrier replied loudly, his face feverish with excitement.
“Now where are the best places I can find a sneak?” I asked.
“Oh anywhere. She can be a prostitute or someone you just met in a bar. She can even be your best friend’s wife, but if she is, you had better really keep her in the closet and never let her out. The thing is, you can have as many sneaks as you want. There is no limit to the number of women you keep around just for fucking”
“That sounds interesting,“ I replied.
“Then there’s the third aspect of the three point plan,” Saint Perrier said in a calmer voice, and that’s the homestead program.”
“So what’s that.”
“Your homestead is a woman who’s a number one friend. You confide in her about your front and your sneaks. If a button falls off your shirt, she sews it back on for you. When you visit her she makes a pot of coffee without even being asked. Maybe you are fucking her, but that’s not important, and chances are that you aren’t taking her to bed.”
It all sounded wonderful to me, but I must continue on to why having a three point plan for women is so important. My father explained it to me, and I never forgot either what he or Saint Perrier said.
Lessons from my father
“If you have only one woman, you fall into a trap,” my father told me. “If there ever was a God, he created us to fall into the monogamy trap. You see, women like that because it gives them security but it’s no good for the man. If he becomes accustomed to having sex with just one woman, he starts to feel that she’s irreplaceable. He will probably wind up marrying her and having children, and then he’s really screwed. Son, do you really want to get married and have to spend the rest of your life with only one woman?”
“Well, I don’t know, Dad. What’s wrong with that?
“For one thing, she’s probably going to get fat on you. And after you are with her for a year or more, she starts to take advantage of you. That’s because you have gotten into a boring routine. But at the very beginning of the relationship you were getting brainwashed into believing: No one else feels like her; and no one else is going to feel so good in the sack. But after a year you have gotten so used to each other that both of you have fallen into a big rut.”
“So who’s the brain washer?”
“God. He’s the villain here. He wants you to settle down, have a family, and make little babies to carry on the human species. But as far as He’s concerned, we are all likes insects, copulating, and breeding, just to keep reproducing human spawn. He doesn’t care about you.
“Well Dad, I think you have convinced me to never get married.”
“God, if there is a god, intended us to fall for just one woman, and that’s because he wants us to have children. So if you are going out with several women at the same time, you start to like one better than all the rest and you start going with only her. The key is to always have at least three women in your life.”
“That sounds like a lot of work.”
“Sure it is but it keeps you from falling into God’s trap. So you can never start liking one woman too much more than the others. So if that starts to happen you must start replacing the women who you have become bored with. That way you can have and keep having great sex for the rest of your life without becoming tied down.”
My neighbor in Pattaya has the perfect three point plan
I never thought my neighbor living next door to me in Pattaya was very smart, but now I’ve started to change my mind. He’s got a girlfriend from Vietnam. She has a very white complexion, and if she dyes her hair a light brown you might even think she’s a girl from Europe or South American who’s moved to America. Her English is far better than most Thais and she’s really cute. So far he hasn’t moved her to Thailand from Vietnam so she’s only visiting him every three months or so and she never stays for more than two weeks. So he thinks about her a lot of the time, about how pretty she is, and how cute all his friends find her.
“That’s his front program. She’s soft spoken and polite. Then there’s his sneak program. Once in awhile he will pay a big bar fine for a Pattaya go go girl, but usually he’s after massage girls. Now the problem with most Pattaya massage girls is that most of them are butt ugly. The reason for this is that a woman has to work very hard to give a one hour Thai massage–if she’s giving a good massage that is. And, pretty girls have a lot better things to do than to work hard. But, a lot of girls offer oil massages with the object being to ejaculate the customer by hand. It doesn’t take much work. Because of the oil the massage girl doesn’t have to use much pressure to get the job done. As for my neighbor, he has all the time in the world for constantly driving around on his motorbike looking all over Pattaya for the prettiest massage girls. I don’t go looking for them because there simply aren’t that many pretty ones around here and I don’t have the time to always be about looking for them down in South Pattaya where most of the girls with their oily semen soaked hands ply their trade.
I’ve seen this neighbor of mine bring some really pretty massage girls back to his condo, and I’m still amazed over how he can find them. But it’s his homestead program that amuses me the most. It’s the girl who works in our condo office, and I’m sure that she will want to deny any personal involvement with my neighbor. But like him or not, she’s stuck with him. She works for we condo owners so whenever he comes into our condo office she must accommodate him because it’s her job to take care of all the condo customers.
“I’ve been down in the condo office talking to her, when my neighbor suddenly walks in to show her pictures on his cell phone of his latest bar girl and massage girl sex partners.” Then out it comes, “Which one should I like best?” or “Which one do you think is cutest”, and “What should I do now that this one’s told me she has another boyfriend?” Now our office girl can really care less, but she’s gotta put up with him.
But it gets worse. You see, my neighbor is really cheap. So he will come down to our condo office to ask the office girl, “My printer has run out of paper. Can you give me some?” Or, “my ink pen’s run out of ink. Can I borrow one from the office?” Other examples of just how poorly equipped this guy really is are, “I don’t have a hammer. Can you have our maintenance man put up a picture for me?” And, “I don’t have a fan in my toilet. Do you have a small fan you can lend me?”
His requests are endless, and I think part of the reason he keeps going down to our condo office is that he finds Pooey to be pretty attractive. And unlike all the massage girls and bar girls he keeps bringing home with him, she’s got a really good mind, and a good sense of humor. (I mean you gotta to be putting up with him). Her English is good and she’s usually very logical, and in Thailand this is a quality that’s in very short supply.
So the other day I went down to talk to Pooey and I told her, “You know, my neighbor has the perfect womanizing program–The Three Point Plan. He’s got all those massage girls for sex and he has the Vietnamese girlfriend to show off to his family and friends, and then he has you, Pooey for his homestead plan. He asks you your advice on even how to put on his shoes, and he keeps asking you to lend him things from our condo office. I think he really likes you. He might even be in love with you.”
Daggers started to jump out of her eyes at me as she told me, “I could kill you Jack.”
Maureen Dowd’s recent editorial Jeb Bushs Brainless Trust in the New York Times was simply so awesome that I had to link it here because it’s the most eloquent argument for voting Democrat that I’ve read.
It about time and Mr. Obama, was just the right man to do it, with the help of Raol Castro. As for me, I’m going to Cuba, if not this year, next year or the year after. Be sure of that. I’m excited.
For everyone reading this, you should be excited too. Cuba is right on our doorstep, 93 miles to be exact, yet for 50 years it’s been official American policy to consider Cuba to be an outlaw nation. But we’ve had that all wrong just as we had it all wrong in Vietnam where over 60,000 American soldiers died as Americans killed over 1,000,000 Vietnamese to save the world from the Communist scourge. But what a difference forty years can make. Communist, Capitalistic, or whatever we choose to call Vietnam today, it is rapidly been emerging as a prime trading partner of the U.S. and staunch political ally in Asia.
The main problem with Cuba is back in 1959 the United States picked the wrong side, when it ignored Fidel Castro’s pleas for American assistance while he was consolidating his Revolution in Cuba. It ignored his pleas for assistance so he had no choice other than to turn to the Soviet Union. Had we stood with Fidel, the entire course of Cuban-American relations would have been completely different for the next 50 years. There would have been no Cuban Missile crisis, no bay of Pigs–Cuba would never have been listed as a pariah nation. Instead, Cuba would have become one of the prime tourist destinations for Americans seeking beautiful scenery and pristine beaches right on our doorstep. The Cuban economy would have prospered while the whole course of American–Latin American relations would have turned out so much better for all concerned.
The same thing happened in Vietnam when Ho Chi Minh turned to the United States for the support of a country he deeply admired. And just as we did with Castro, we turned our back on Ho, so he turned to the Soviet Union instead. Once again, the result was a complete travesty of injustice with devastating results for both Vietnam and the United States. Vietnam is still Communist, at least on paper, but now it’s one of the good guys, and if you go to Vietnam now as I have four times, the Vietnamese will consider you to be one of the good guys too.
But leave it to Obama to take the lead in the U.S. to get those doors open again. I expected no less from the man. Just as Vietnam has finally emerged to be one of the good guys, I expect in a few years Cuba will become one of the good guys also as Obama will finally be given his just due as one of America’s greatest presidents. It just takes a little time for History to sort these things out.
The Republican Party and Microsoft Office have two things in common. 1. Both are accepted by those who don’t know better and 2. Big money buys the propaganda that sells both. I urge everyone to throw both out as inexcusably bad. But although Microsoft Office is a terrific waste of time to its users who have been lulled into actually believing it’s a good product, the consequences of voting Republican are devastating to our democratic form of government when you consider the awful consequences of Citizens United, a recent Supreme Court Decision that allows big money to dominate our entire system of government. In a few days Americans will vote in the midterm elections. But this time, not only are Republicans expected to retain control of the Do Nothing House of Representatives, they also have a better than fifty-fifty chance of gaining control of the Senate. Two more years of complete obstructionism is too much to bear from the party of No. Even worse, in two more years a Republican president could very well be the death knell of the democratic process Americans have fought hard for since gaining its independence from Britain. Before describing how this tragedy might destroy the entire democratic process, it is necessary to compare Microsoft Office to the Republican Party so that the urgency for putting the Republicans and Microsoft Office out to pasture is clear.
I have Microsoft Office 2010, and I absolutely despise it. (For my review on how Wordperfect and Microsoft Office compare click here). But I’ve had to have it on my computers because if I don’t, there’s no way that I can send and receive correctly formatted documents from those who are using Microsoft. This is critical now that I’m chairman of the committee running our condo here in Thailand. In the past several years I’ve also written and produced four books. Unfortunately if I am to receive reports from Amazon on how many paperback books and Kindle books I”ve sold I need to have Microsoft Excel on my computer. I also need Excel if I want to export Quickbooks accounting files to a spreadsheet. Other than my hating Microsoft Word, the word processing module of Microsoft Office, I now find myself in the position of not being even able to use Microsoft Office even though I purchased a licensed copy in 2010. I’ve simply had too many computer problems recently and had to reinstall Microsoft Office too many times for Microsoft’s liking. I now have one day left to use Excel because whenever I try to activate Office 2010 online since installing a new system board on my desktop I keep getting an error message that I can no longer activate Office online now that Microsoft has determined that I have exceeded the permitted number of reinstalls. But I am given the choice of activating Office by phone. The problem is that the 54 digit installation code Microsoft is supplying me simply does not work. The first time I tried it I entered the first 36 numbers correctly, only to have Microsoft disconnect me after I tried the next series of six numbers, which I did enter correctly by the way. Do I sense that “Money is Number One” is at play here?
My problem is that no matter how much I detest Microsoft, I have to have it simply because everyone else has it. I infinitely prefer Wordperfect Office X-7 which is vastly superior to Microsoft Office. I must admit, however, that Excel, the spreadsheet component of Microsoft Office is quite good. However, Quattro Pro, which is Wordperfect Office’s spreadsheet module is equally good. As for Microsoft Word, Microsoft’s wordprocessor, it’s so bad, especially when you compare it to Wordperfect, that it should not even be allowed to be sold in the market place. It is terrible. I’ve written four books and I’ve had to use Word just so that I could get my book files uploaded in acceptable format to get them published on the amazon servers. And believe me, I’ve had to spend three times as much work trying to format each book in Word as I’ve had to in Wordperfect. And even then I couldn’t get such things as my book captions done right in Word because of its unacceptable limitations.
Well perhaps you won’t believe me. But will you believe over 300 independent reviews from the people who have actually bought Wordperfect and Microsoft Office from Amazon? Now granted, when you read the reviews of Wordperfect Office versus Microsoft Office in computer magazines such as Computer World and P.C. Magazine you will always find that Microsoft Office comes out on top. But who do you think is spending more money advertising their products with these magazines, Corel, which is Wordperfect’s parent company or Microsoft? You better believe that Microsoft with its market dominance and huge advertising treasure chest is spending a lot more advertising dollars as Corel. With “trusted magazines” such as these money is number one and whoever spends the most advertising dollars with them is going to get the best reviews. What I am saying is completely true, and a proven fact when you consider that the customers who are actually buying Corel’s Wordperfect Office and Microsoft Office from Amazon are giving Wordperfect’s Office X-7 4 ½ stars while only giving Microsoft’s Office 3 stars. Such numbers do not lie when you consider there are something like 300 customer user reviews at Amazon and that the customers are not getting paid anything for their unbiased ratings.
As I’ve just said, when it comes to politics, money is number one. That is if one candidate can outspend his opponent by a large amount, he will probably win the election. The Republican Party is the Microsoft of the American political arena. It’s the party of the rich, and certainly not the party of the poor. Poor people simply do not have the money to spend to influence elections the way the rich have, and with the huge amounts of money the oil companies and billionaires like the Koch brothers have who are dumping millions into GOP election coffers, the poor and the middle class face a dim future if such spending is allowed to go unrestrained. Fortunately limits were placed on campaign contributions–until January of 2010 when the U.S. Supreme Court decided in Citizens United vs Federal Election Commission that corporations, labor unions and other entities could contribute unlimited funs to whichever political candidates and causes they favored.
So here’s what happened. Nine men, just nine supreme court justices were able to completely take over the entire political process of the United States by allowing big money to buy elections from now on. Actually it was five men because the vote in the Supreme Court was five votes for allowing big money to control elections versus the four supreme court justices who disagreed with the majority decision. Here’s the breakdown:
1. Chief Justice John Roberts–appointed by President George Bush (Republican) in 2005. “In Wikipedia http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/John_Roberts Roberts has been portrayed as a consistent advocate for conservative principles by analysts such as Jeffrey Toobin”
2. Samuel Alite–appointed by President–appointed by President George Bush (Republican) in 2005. “Alito is considered “one of the most conservative justices on the Court” http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Samuel_Alito
3. Antonin Scalia–appointed by President Ronald Reagan (Republican) in 1986. “Writing in The Forward, J.J. Goldberg described Scalia as “the intellectual anchor of the court’s conservative majority”. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Antonin_Scalia
So there you have it, five out of nine Supreme Court justices, all five of them conservative Republicans appointed by Republican presidents decide in Citizens United to hand over unlimited campaign funding to the rich, to the Oil companies and politics will never be the same again. Just as Microsoft has successfully inflicted a grotesquely inferior Word Processor on an unsuspecting public by its massive advertising war chest and unscrupulous marketing tactics the Republican Party will be able to buy elections with the unlimited campaign funds just five Conservative Supreme Court justices delivered to the wealthy special interests. This is the same party that came so close to bringing to the world a depression of a magnitude that would have greatly exceeded the Great Depression of the 1930’s that put 25 % of the American workforce out of work. This is the party that took the United States into two completely unnecessary wars in Iraq and Afghanistan. This is the party that would deny basic health care to millions of Americans while making American health care the most expensive in the world. This is the party that denies climate change as being man made despite overwhelming scientific evidence to the contrary, that nearly gave us Sarah Palin as Vice President and stooges like Newt Gingrich, Rick Santorum, Rick Perry, Michelle Bachmann, Herman Cain, and Milt Romney for president. Make no mistake, the GOP has caved in to its Neanderthal right wing. This is the party that has constantly lied while blaming Obama for its own misdeeds. The GOP does not deserve to win, not now and not two years from now when Americans will once again choose a new president. Citizens United can be overturned, but not if the Republicans gain control of the Senate which would certainly overturn any supreme court nominations President Obama might make if a seat suddenly becomes available. Then in two years we must all make certain that a Democrat is elected president so that the right kind of Supreme Court justices are nominated and agreed upon by a Democratic Senate in the event that a position becomes available.
Choose Wordperfect Office, the Democratic Party and Vote Republicans and Microsoft Office out
I want falang take care of me long time, the Soi Six bar girl told me, but I want go to Thai Karioke bars and discos so my friends and I can listen to Thai music and look at Thai men.
Fortunately I am not this woman’s sucker, and I don’t intend to be. I’m on the top of my game, and I’m just plain not interested in having a Thai girlfriend and you shouldn’t be either. I’ve known this gal for a long time, and I knows she’s speaking the truth, and not just for herself but for nearly every Thai woman you are ever likely to be meeting in a beer bar, go go, or from the Soi Six Bar I’m writing from this very minute. The girl’s sitting next to me downstairs. She’s on her smart phone drumming up new customers or telling guys she knows how much she loves them while I’m sitting here downing tequilas and beer with her and writing in my notebook. This bar’s a favorite hangout of mine.
Half an hour ago she was a great fuck. But she’s known me for a long time. She knows I’ve banged over fifty girls here on Soi Six and that’s not counting all the other places I keep pulling my wimmen from. Just two doors from this place is her favorite drinking buddy who just happens to be the mamasan. Last night the two went down to Walking Street together, but speaking of this mamasan, I’ve banged her too–about four times already but it’s been awhile. She’s a great mamasan. She’s smart, she’s sexy, she speaks good English, and she’s never tried to con me.
As for the girl sitting with me in this here booth, this one’s never copped an attitude with me. She’s always friendly, but the best thing about her aside from her being cute and having a nice tight little body is she’s become like a comfortable shoe. I knows her and she knows me. She has nothing to gain by lying to me now so I pop the big one on her.
“Would you ever like to have a falang boyfriend and quit being a Soi Six bar girl?”
(It’s a stupid question). I means who really wants to have one dick in her after another, which is exactly what these Soi Six girls have to put up with?
“It really hard to find good man,” she replies. “I try many times, but man always bad.”
Ain’t that the truth, I tell myself. To be honest, as outgoing and friendly as I am, I actually despise most men. They are full of themselves, they are selfish, and most of them never ever grew themselves a set of balls. Neil Hutchison was right when he wrote Fool in Paradise because that’s what most guys who come here are. Fools in Paradise, so when he wrote that book after writing Money Number One, what he meant was that nearly every man who comes to Pattaya is a complete idiot when it comes to Thai women. This Soi Six whore is right on the money.
Did I call her a whore? Well, I didn’t mean anything derogatory towards her when I wrote that. She’s a damn site more useful to me than most wimmen are who don’t call themselves whores. I’ve just paid her 800 baht and she’s given me terrific sex and now she’s content to just sit here with me. She hardly ever asks me for a drink, but I think if I kept plying her with alcohol she’d sit next to me all night. Except I’d be sure to be banging her again. She’s that good. And she’s going to tell me the truth now, just as that mamasan would if she were sitting with me instead. Yep, that mamasan certainly would, but now that I’m thinking of her I just can’t stop laughing.
A few months ago I came into the mamasan’s bar just to have a few drinks. That night I didn’t care if I boom boomed someone or not. I was out just to have fun, and when I first came in and saw mamasan dancing all around the place with that little white nurse’s hat on, I just knew that the entertainment was just a starting. There’s this guy standing near me, and right off I just knows he’s just fucked mamasan. But like I says, Mamasan’s dancing all around the place, obviously a little drunk, and then this man grabs her and starts dancing with her.
“Let’s get naked, get on the floor and fuck each other”, he tells her while he feels her up.
For a moment I thought she would have, but I happen to know she’s one cool lady who once told me she fucked between sixty and eighty guys a month in her bar. But then the man comes over to me while she escapes into the toilet.
“Hi. I”m Olaf. I’m Swedish.”
“And I’m Uncle Bufford. That’s one pretty lady you are with,” I tell him.
“She certainly is. I just fucked her and I will fuck her again in a little while.”
‘Well, I’d like to fuck her too,” I told the man, not having the heart to tell him that I had been with her a few times before and had oftentimes just come in to have several drinks with her.
“I fucked 11 girls yesterday right next door to this place. At the O Bar,” the man replied.
“How’d you do that? I’m lucky to be able to get it up just for one girl,” I countered.
“I just told the bartender and everyone in the place that I wanted to fuck as many as I could and then I just started having the girls come upstairs to my room one after the other.”
When mamasan finally came out of the toilet the Swede left me. She staggered up to him. Then he grabbed her, kissed her on the lips, and pulled away. Standing in the center of the bar, he unzipped his pants, pulled out his dick and asked her, “Do you member this?”
I’ll never forget the way she laughed at him and replied, “How can I remember your dick when I’ve already had three thousand of them in me already?”
Now all you guys who are reading this about now will not learn this most fundamental lesson. That is this is what you are going to amount to most of these bar girls is that you are just one more dick out of hundreds, and quite possibly thousands, and if you don’t believe me just go read Money Number One.
I love that mamasan, and as for that Swede, a few minutes later he comes up to me again and then he goes to the toilet. But he doesn’t come out. A few minutes pass, and finally he opens the toilet door, takes a few steps out into the bar, and then he goes back inside again. He’s puking his guts out, obviously not able to control his alcohol. Which brings me back to the girl I’m with tonight.
“So what will you be doing, if you just happen to find a Western boyfriend and you decide to stay together long time. And what does he have to be paying you to get you to stop working bar?” I ask her.
“Fifteen thousand baht. Twenty thousand,” she replies. But falang want to control me. That is big problem. I don’t mind if he goes out with his friends to bars at night but he should let me to. I want to go out with friends to discos and bars, listen to Thai music. Look at Thai men.”
Aha. I thought so. She wants to have her cake and eat it too. And what’s this with Thai men? I despise most of them. I know what nearly all of them are about. But I’m not getting into all of that, except to say that any woman who prefers Thai men is of no real interest to me. But I don’t care. This gals just plain good company, and besides, I love fucking her. I could easily just stay here and drink with her for the next two or three hours but I need to go down to Walking Street so that I can write about my next experience there in my Uncle Bufford Walking Street Reviews, plus, there’s a very pretty go go girl that I’ve got my heart set on boom booming later on tonight.
Our Thai women American strip clubs? Last month I brought myThai girlfriend to three American strip clubs, the Grand Canyon, and Las Vegas’s gambling casinos. Two friends of mine had just married Thai women. We had all traveled together in Thailand and celebrated each other’s birthdays in Pattaya’s bars for the last couple of years, and one of the two American men had even bought a condo up the street from me where his future wife stayed while the couple waited out her American visa. This being the first time we could all meet together on American soil, it was only fitting that we should celebrate our reunion in America’s strip clubs.
Being from Illinois and St. Louis where I had spent most of my life, the main center of my past strip club activities was in the St. Louis Metro East. This was in Illinois within a few miles of St. Louis on the Missouri side of the Mississippi. It was the East side St. Louisans had been going to for years for night club entertainment and bars that stayed open all night. Whatever adult entertainment existed on the Missouri closed down at 1 a.m. along with all the other St. Louis bars while the clubs just across the river stayed open until 4 a.m. during the week and 6 a.m. on weekends. For those who still couldn’t get enough drinking and partying in by 6 a.m. there were still other night clubs open until 8 a.m. where a lot of the strippers and employees of the topless clubs would hang out after their clubs closed.
In all my years writing for adult magazines and shooting pictures of adult entertainers I had never encountered anything quite like the St. Louis Metro East night clubs, but I had heard the clubs were now only a shadow of what they used to be and that most of the strippers had gotten butt ugly. It was time to find out. In the meantime I had reasoned that the strip clubs would reflect what had happened to American women in recent years.
Fast food, addiction to the internet and an unwillingness to exercise had spawned a new breed of American with men now averaging thirty pounds heavier than the typical World War II soldier and women taking on 35 % more pork than those American women I had gone to college with in the 60’s. Lardy lardy, oncLe I brought my Thai girlfriend to the United States we’d discover that nine out of ten women were overweight.
So what do I really mean by overweight? According to 2010 statistics I’ve skimmed off the Internet, the average American woman is slightly less than five foot four, and yet she averages 76 kilograms. That’s a jelly flopping 167 pounds while my over the hill 67 year old body weighs in at 165 pounds, and I’m a good seven inches taller at five foot eleven. Tom’s wife, Nok, my girfriend, and the third Thai woman who’d be meeting us later on in Las Vegas weigh only half as much as what the average American woman has become.
Nok and Big Tom took a room just down the hall from us after driving 240 miles from their Missouri home to join us at the St. Louis Metro East motel we were now staying at. Although we both had cars, Tom and I had already decided not to risk getting DWI’s here in the land of the American Gestapo so we split the cab fare and set off to what used to be two of the Metro East’s top strip clubs.
I used to get into these clubs free, back when I was writing for Xtreme Magazine and the clubs’ management viewed me as someone who could get their organization a lot of positive publicity, but times had changed. I had not been in either place for ten years since moving to Thailand. So we paid our cover charges which came out to fifteen dollars each, amounting to $30.00 for Tom and $30.00 for me since we had brought our Thai women along who were immediately asked to produce their ID’s. We were then escorted to a table from which we could watch each dancer take her turn on the stage. I felt right at home. The overall atmosphere of the club was as friendly as it ever had been so I spent my first fifteen minutes talking to the club’s bartenders and doormen about the club’s managers and my favorite bartender, Larry, who had retired a few months before. Then I rejoined Tom and our two Thai women. By this time I had ordered a Bud Lite, which turned out to be on special for $6.50 while Tom wound up having to pay for a Budweiser Heavy for $8.50.
But the club was not the same as before. Nearly every stripper was fat, and by fat I don’t mean just a little on the heavy side. In the entire club only two dancers resembled the strippers of ten years ago. One of the girls, the far prettier of the two came up to me and said, “I haven’t seen you in a long time” as she gave me a big hug.
“I have been living in Thailand for nine years now,” I replied and I haven’t been back here for ten years. Then I pointed at the two Thai women sitting with Tom. That’s, Duean, my girlfriend over there. Nok, sitting next to her, just got married to Tom.”
“You always told me you liked Asian women,” the stripper replied.
Then she strode off as my mind started to race back in time to where I might have met her before. I would have invited her to our table for a drink, but I still hadn’t gotten my first beer as the service although friendly was slow.
“She says she knows me,” I told Tom. “She probably does. On the other hand, perhaps she’s just angling for us to buy her drinks.”
It was like watching a bunch of cows lumbering around. Good God, how much the club’s stable had changed through the years. But so had America. As I suspected, the strip clubs would wind up reflecting how much the American female species had changed, and then the slender dancer who claimed to know me took her turn dancing on a stage directly in front of us. But only after the D.J. announced her by her stage name, “China Girl”.
Suddenly I remembered her. She had been the prettiest girl at Club 64 in East St. Louis, which had become my favorite drinking bar during my last two years living in the states. I had done a lot of photography of the girls working at Club 64. The club’s owners would have their makeup and hair done for a couple of hours before I’d shoot their pictures. I then enlarged the best pictures, those that had been picked by the club owner’s wife, to poster size which the owner and his wife had mounted on the front of the club facing the highway that could be viewed by motorists from a quarter of a mile away. The frames were even back lighted. It had been a terrific idea, and since Club 64 was on the main road leading to three other strip clubs those poster sized pictures played a big part in getting men to stop at Club 64 before hitting the other clubs. Club 64 was also charging just $3.00 a beer while the other clubs were charging $5.50.
When I mention the “owners of Club 64″, I mean the owner and his wife, Sherry. Both were brilliant. It was Sherry and Frank who agreed to my bringing a white tiger club into Club 64 when probably no other club in the Metro East would have had the balls to allow it, and with very good reason. Because if the Tiger club had bitten or clawed a customer, the club would have been sued. But Sherry and Frank were gamblers who played by their own rules. The husband wife team was hard working and neither stood for much nonsense. They also knew that forty pound white tiger cubs were really only pussy cats, and the white tiger I managed to get into the club got to be a very popular with the girls who took turns feeding it milk from a baby bottle.
Of course China Girl would have remembered me. I never forgot her either. She had claimed to be of mixed blood. I remember her telling me she was part Japanese. I don’t remember the other parts however. I’m thinking black however. But whatever her genetic makeup she was the most beautiful girl at Club 64, and because of it she had always gotten a lot of attention from the club’s customers. Which left little time for me because by the time we’d be having a drink together a customer willing to pay her big money would come in and I’d be left drinking with other girls or simply chatting with the bartender.
I had nothing but great times in the United States in those days. Better times than any man in his fifties had a right to be. My companions were more often women than male and the girls were usually in their twenties. They had fun loving personalities and back then their bodies were tight and trim. But times had changed. The average American woman although seven inches shorter than me, now outweighed me by several pounds.
We walked across the parking lot to the second club. The fifteen dollar cover charge we had paid was good in all the St. Louis Metro East Clubs belonging to the same organization so one could hit five clubs on a single cover charge. But of the five, this second club, was the organization’s show piece. Ten years ago the best looking women in all the area’s strip clubs were working there and dinners in the club’s restaurant rivaled the best restaurants the St. Louis area had to offer. But in those days I had preferred the sister club next door. For one thing one night a week the sister club had dollar beers, and back in those days strip clubs were the same as pubs and neighborhood bars to me.
In my last years living in the U.S. I never bothered to go to regular bars anymore. They bored me. And I sure knew where to go and when in the St. Louis Metro East Strip Clubs all of which were no more than fifteen minutes from my apartment. I could go to one club for its Monday night dollar beers and never have to pay a cover charge. On Wednesday nights one of its sister clubs had two dollar drink nights when I could get beer, whiskey or vodka for just two bucks, and then there was Club 64 where I could drink beers all night long for just $3.00 a bottle. Why would I want to go anywhere else? Back in those days I was writing two articles a month for adult magazines and there were a lot of strippers who wanted the publicity of being in a magazine. So I was used to getting a lot of attention in the U.S.
Looking back on it I was even having more fun in the U.S. than I’m presently having in Thailand. The difference is here in Thailand you always have to pay for women, and most Thai women measure you by how much money you have and how much you are willing to give them. But in the U.S. I was being measured by all those strippers on how good an article I could write about them in a magazine, how good of pictures I could take of them, or how much fun I was to be with. And since most men couldn’t get the pictures I could get or write like I could, I’d rank pretty high up on the yardstick even though I was getting up into my fifties when most men were already being viewed as old codgers.
But before I managed to even get down my first beer in this second club I was being jolted back to reality. And it wasn’t because I was no longer in my fifties but well into my sixties. The whole country had turned into a land of porkies in the last ten years. And I had not really changed very much. I felt like Gulliver must have felt (in Gullivers Travels). For those who have read this three hundred year old work by Jonathon Swift, in the first part of the book, Gulliver winds up being a giant in the land of the Lilliputians. Now I felt like Swift’s character would have felt upon finding himself in a land of giants while visiting Brobdingnag. Nearly every stripper in this club was huge so there was no change from the first club. The strippers were friendly enough, however, with several of them stopping at our table to chat with us. They would have anyway, because just as it would have been in Thailand, the girls would be wanting us to buy them drinks. But several of them were especially taken by the two Thai women, and I knew all too well that a large percentage of American strippers were either bisexual or lesbians.
A week later, Tom and Nok would fly out to Las Vegas to be with us once again. My girlfriend and I had flown instead to Denver where we had rented a car so I could show off some of the best scenery America had to offer. Another friend of ours also flew to Las Vegas to join us. Like Tom he had also married a Thai woman who was also a friend of both my girlfriend and Nok. We all decided to go to at least one Las Vegas strip club.
From his room at the Luxor, Tom got on his smart phone and started to look up Las Vegas Strip Clubs. The first club we looked into was Hustler, but the beers there would be fifteen dollars each, and the reviews of the place were not all that good. I wanted to go to Cheetah’s. For one thing part of the movie, “Showgirls” had been filmed there so Cheetahs had captured my interest long before I actually got into the place to experience it first hand. The first time I went into Cheetahs I had gone in with a small group who were attending the Exotic Dancer’s annual convention with me. We had spent perhaps an hour there, and then, I think it was the next year, I had gone into Cheetah’s with one of the guys from the convention and we had both spent the entire night there drinking and cavorting with two of the club’s strippers in the VIP room. We had left the darkness of the club in broad daylight the next morning with the bright Nevada sun practically blinding us as we walked outside.
Cheetah’s would have a taxi pick us up at the Luxor but we’d have to pay the driver $30.00 and we’d still have to get another taxi to take us back to the Luxor. Which we willingly paid. The drive took much longer than I thought or that I ever remembered. Cheetah’s was most certainly not downtown or anywhere near downtown and now that I think about it, none of the other Las Vegas clubs that I’d visited were either. Which I find rather typical of America’s mindset. It’s okay to gamble away money that you can’t afford to lose, but it’s not okay to go to strip clubs to look at naked women. Unfortunately what we found at Cheetahs was about the same as we found in the two St. Louis Metro East Clubs. All the strippers were horrendously fat except for one. This single exception was of Afro American descent. She never came to our table so I only saw her from a distance but she had a nice slender sexy body, but from what I could detect her face was all angles giving her a rather harsh appearance. Several of the other girls would stop by our table to ask us where we had all come from and whether we were enjoying our evening or not. The overall friendliness of Cheetah’s was just what I had remembered from the past. But the women had changed just as much as American women outside the clubs had changed. America had become a land of fat, lardy people. Especially the women.
We had to take another taxi back to the hotel but this one cost us fifty dollars. Instead we could have gone to Club Sapphires where there would have been a two drink minimum at fifteen dollars each. We declined after deciding to cut our losses and went back to the Luxor to have our last drinks there. Perhaps Sapphires, where I had once shot a lot of pictures of the Pure Talent Feature entertainers giving a special performance there would have us a better stable of dancers to oogle, but why take the chance? We had already sampled three clubs, two in the Saint Louis Metro East and one at Las Vegas, and I had seen enough to decide that American women would never be the same again. My girlfriend and I would continue on to the Grand Canyon, to the Cliff Dwellings at Mesa Verde and into the mountains of Southwestern Colorado, then back to Denver from Grand Junction through Glenwood Canyon, in search of a different kind of scenery.