Zenwind

In Pennsylvania I carried a stainless Colt Mustang .380. Flat, dependable, with a 5-round magazine. I also had two small derringer-size revolvers (perhaps from "American Arms", I am not sure). The one I carried for backpacking in the hills was chambered for .22 Magnum and had a nice folding grip for compactness. The smaller one was chambered for .22 LR, and I loaded it with .22 Birdshot when rock-climbing, especially when exploring new crags in untouched wilderness areas where I worried about coming up over a ledge face-to-face with a rattler. Once the mere presence of my Colt .380 defused a potentially uncomfortable situation involving 4 thugs. I was dating my future wife, and we were hiking with her 2 young teenage daughters in the Allegheny National Forest. Four really creepy guys approached on 2 all-terain vehicles, and were yelling and smashing bottles against rocks. They sounded really insane, and as they got closer and closer in the woods, my fiancee and her daughters were all crying and quite distraught because we were so isolated. As the guys were coming up right behind us, I took my Colt out of my belt pack and holstered it visibly in front on my belt. The guys stopped both bikes right behind me and shut off the engines. I don't know what their intentions were, but it was alarming. I turned around to face them, gave a friendly smile, and said, "It is a great day to be out in the woods, isn't it?" Four pair of eyes went down to the Colt on my belt and then back up to my eyes. A couple of them nodded in agreement, they fired up their machines, and they rode away. My fiancee said "What just happened? Why did they go?" I pointed to my belt. She said "You carry a gun?!?" She didn't know. But the lesson was clear -- she applied for a concealed carry permit, and I got her a stainless .38 with subdued hammer. After proper instruction -- she shot better than me! -- she was unafraid to do solo hikes in the wilderness.

I don't have any problems since my TURP surgery in July 2025 (in Bangkok). I had rather alarming bloody urine for several days after, but that ended within a week. I feel quite normal again. At age 75, I still have to pee during the night, but not as much as before. I did have to stop exercising for a while as my gut was healing, but after my doctor said I was healed I re-started my old exercise program -- Three times a week, I smoke a micro-dose (2 tokes) of Cannabis sativa (which motivates me to exercise with a concentration and an intensity like nothing else); then I warm up with Tai Chi, Yoga stretches and USMC calisthenics; then I grab a pair of dumbbells and go out for a march, and I climb half a dozen high stairways (pedestrian flyovers, etc). It is building my core muscles back up, especially when hefting dumbbells. (I suspect that by my doing these same exercises Before TURP surgery, I went into it with strong core muscles, which possibly caused quicker recovery.) Now I am wielding 2kg weights in each hand in my stair-climbing, and I feel strong (for an old guy!). TURP surgery wiped out my meager finances, but I feel good about going into my 76th year.

In my life, I've climbed a bit on rock, snow, and ice. The deadliest of the three is snow, because of its complex unpredictability. I will never forget the surprise, shock and horror as I looked up to see all that mass of snow coming at us, in an area not known for a avalanches. My wife and I were swept off the climb but were lucky enough to walk away at the bottom.

For many years, I used to watch films at Major Cineplex once or twice a week. But since they won't allow me to use cash to top up my MC card, I can no longer go to their theaters.

I’m 75 and have suffered from enlarged prostate (BPH) for a long time, and it came to the point where I could not pee at all without a catheter. Neither herbal or standard medicinal remedies had helped through the years. I had the Rezum treatment this last New Years, but it was ineffective. I finally had the TURP surgery just last week, and I can finally pee again. It’s not the perfect return to the days of a young man’s bladder functions, since I’m still getting up frequently in the night – which is probably partly because of the large intake of water I’m advised to take right now. But I’m now free of a catheter after eight months hooked to one like a ball and chain. Good luck dealing with this problem.

I’m a long-time expat retiree here in Thailand, and I live frugally, always paying for things in cash. But this modern cashless craze is restricting my ability to pay. (I don’t have a credit card.) After many years of being a loyal weekly customer of Major Cineplex, I now cannot pay for a movie. Okay, now I see that True Move, my mobile phone company, has the True Move Wallet where I could top up a wallet account with cash via 7/Eleven. Their website said foreigners like me could do it, but the online procedure was arcane beyond comprehension and didn’t work. So, I go to the True store in Siam Paragon (because they always spoke good English and were very polite and helpful in the past) to enroll in their Wallet service, but they only gave me a phone number to call, which was only in Thai, and otherwise ignored me. Next, my Thai wife accompanied me to the True store in Central Pinklao. I had my passport, etc. and was hopeful they could process me. But the girl there told my wife that foreigners could not get the True Move Wallet. Can anyone here enlighten me about this? Thanks in advance.

Nice post, OP (blaze master). I understand you. I am 75, and I have a stop-and-go history with smoking weed over half a century. I smoked daily – usually moderately – from 1969 to 1980; then I quit for many years (which was easy and without any significant effects). I only smoked a few times here and there throughout the following decades, and then I started micro-dosing again here in Thailand since 2022. The virtue (perhaps unique for me) of a micro-dose of two or three tokes of sativa is that it makes me stand up, exercise, and move out. It restoreth my health. I started serious toking in Vietnam, and in 1970 at our combat base at An Hoa, over 75 percent of my fellow Marines toked when not out in combat danger. Coming home as a civilian, I smoked moderately every day for the next ten years. Weed inspired me to hit the trails, backpacking and wilderness bivouacking, and it evolved into mountaineering. During the 1970s, I used weed for training while self-teaching myself technical climbing on rock, snow and ice. After working the midnight to dawn shift at a hospital, I would drive to my favorite rock-climbing spots, take several tokes of good weed, then put on my rock shoes, stretch, and spend the morning bouldering on the cliffs – only on safer routes with soft landings. I’d spend hours traversing and exploring climbing moves close to the ground. Sometimes I would do higher, more dangerous, climbs, but with a rigged top-rope and self-belay system to catch me if I came off. By noon, I was exhausted and would nap on a ledge before heading home. Cannabis inspired me to move out and up. I would do solo climbing expeditions in the Adirondacks, West Virginia, or on the outcrops in the Alleghenies. When I stubbled back to the roadhead, I would light up and turn on the car radio. I quit smoking cannabis on New Year’s Day 1980. I had formerly spent this holiday with my girlfriend and our friends, but she and I had broken up, and I spent this holiday alone in a bivy in the snow on the top of the highest rocks in the county. I woke up to a brilliant morning view, sat up in my sleeping bag and lit a joint. Alone, I pondered several possibilities ahead of me, most involving young ladies I was interested in now that I was a free man again. I looked at my joint and thought: “I’ve been smoking this regularly for ten years; what would it be like to stop completely for one year?” The women I was now intrigued with were not within the cannabis culture, so quitting was an easy decision. I barely ever smoked weed again until now. I ended up getting married to a non-smoker non-drinker, and the decade of my 30s ended up a disappointment. I stopped climbing. I became lazy. But I went back to college – something I couldn’t have done well if spent time smoking – and got certified as a teacher. No time to smoke. After retirement in Thailand, I returned to visit family in Pennsylvania, and I hooked up with some old friends who were still smoking dope. I started smoking regularly there, and it caused me to lace up my boots and head out on the trails, climbing the hills, and getting strong again. My old buddies had a party for me, and they presented me with a joke gift, “the Zenwind joint” – which was my famous signature style from the 70s, a very thin pin-joint. I was famous for small joints and micro-dosing, and they had always kidded me about being “cheap”! Well, micro-dosing is the key to the health benefits of THC. These days in Thailand, I do a three-times-a-week exercise. Two or three tokes of good sativa; then high stair climbing on numerous neighborhood bridges and pedestrian flyovers while wielding dumbbells. It’s a good workout for a 75-year-old guy, and the cannabis gets me off my lazy butt and out the door. On rest days, I micro-dose and do moderate exercises to keep limber: Tai Chi, Yoga, stretches, calisthenics, etc. I find that if I don't toke, I don't take the time to exercise. (My true addiction is too much reading!)

I’m 75 and have had problems with BPH for quite a while. I’ve tried a range of the standard prescribed medications, as well as folk meds such as saw palmetto, etc., but it just got progressively worse. (Aging is a bit of a drag, ain’t it?) After a urinary infection late last year, I was fitted with a urinary catheter at Yanhee International Hospital in Bangkok. When the catheter was removed, I could not pee. Imaging showed a huge intrusive prostate. I had the Rezum treatment at New Years, but I still could not pee. I then had a cystoscopy, which clearly showed that my prostate had indeed shrunk from the Rezum treatment, but that scar tissue was continuing to block my urethra. I’m looking at another surgery to remedy that. I’m definitely not looking forward to it, but I’m tired of being chained to a urinary catheter. (I call my catheter collection bag “Sancho Panza”, since it is my constant sidekick wherever I wander.)

I enjoyed the original post here, thinking it could have been written by an actual libertarian. I read it thinking that it was unusual because it hammered both left-weenies and right-weenies for holding high the banner of constitutional rights and individual liberty only when they are in the backwaters of the power minority. Both left and right tend to forget about such constitutional ideals when back in power. What surprised me a bit at the end was that it was printed in the left-weenie New York Times. I guess they are confessing that they are politically powerless at the moment, grasping for long-lost principles of the American Founders. Will they uphold these principles when they someday regain Power? Doubtful. Both left and right worship power, and liberty ends up second-rate.

I had Rezum treatment two months ago at a private hospital here. It did not work. I'm still wearing a urinary catheter around like a ball and chain. I had to borrow money for it, and now I'm very disappointed.

I prefer Led Zeppelin, their first few albums. It's loud, not for everyone. But it gets me moving and gets the job done. Happy New Year! -Zenwind.

I have long heard of Buddhists reflecting on their history of having other religions trying to overwhelm them, with both persuasion and coercion. I can’t remember where I first heard the term, but they called these religions/ideologies “Predatory Religions”, ones that have such a need to “save” you that they are determined to either convert you or even kill you. Historically, some Buddhists have named Christianity and Islam in this class, and, in the 20th century, Marxism. Convert you or kill you; history is full of the bloodbaths – although, certainly, not all proselytizers of these religions are murderous; but they are intently focused on converting you to their worldview. Caveat: surely history can show us some similar examples of intolerance on the part of Buddhists. But Buddhists usually have not tended to be such “predator” religionists.

I smoke cannabis – Sativa – in mindfully measured micro-doses in order to encourage Exercise and thus restore my health. I am 74 years old, and aging tends to make one chronically achy, fatigued, and lazy. I have long suffered from Fibromyalgia and, more recently, from crippling Sciatica pain from lumbar disc herniations. (I refuse to take narcotic pain-killers, since they tend to be addictive and dumbing.) But a micro-dose of two tokes of good, strong THC Sativa, and it makes me Move, to get off my lazy butt and work out. The Tai Chi sessions immediately after are unparalleled for mindfully exploring all my aged muscles-joints' sore spots, working them out carefully and comprehensively. The follow-up stretching, yoga and mild calisthenics get me ready to move out – primarily long marches and stair climbing, often with hand weights. Excelsior! Thank you, Thailand, for allowing me to use this fine Medicine. -Zenwind. I have written previously on this matter on this forum over a year ago:

Kind of reminds one of today's Venezuela, doesn't it? Ban the folks who get more popular votes than you.

As a retired US History teacher, I answer NO to adding Biden to Mt Rushmore. The monument, with its grand artistry, originally was an attempt to honor the American Heroic Age, with iconic figures. The earliest two on the left are among my all-time personal heroes. But that Heroic Age is long gone. We are now living in The Age of the Buffoon. Therefore, only Clowns should be carved into granite to best represent our times. I suggest immortalizing, as iconic Clowns from the past century, such eminent jokers as Alfred E. Neuman, Donald Trump, Bernie Sanders, and Groucho Marx. -Zenwind.