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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/profile/blog/neilfury/day/8-2-2024
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Rated: 18+ · Book · Biographical · #2258138
This is my blog & my hope, writing daily will help me see my progress and log supporters.
Quill 2024 Nominee
August 2, 2024 at 10:56am
August 2, 2024 at 10:56am
#1074679
In seven weeks, I'll turn sixty. I don't feel that old, and going by what most people tell me, I don't look it either.

I've noticed that it is almost impossible to judge the age of Thais. They tend to look about ten to fifteen years younger than they actually are. They have great skin, and in general, are a beautiful race of people...inside and out.

Crime rates, and in particular, violent crime, in Hua Hin are almost zero (as it is in most of Thailand). And even in the larger tourist areas, street violence is usually Farang on Farang or Thai on Thai.

Thai people are not overtly friendly with foreigners unless it's part of their job (women are, in general, more friendly to me than men), but are polite, and if asked, are quite helpful. The further out of the tourist areas you go, however, the less friendly the people are. And it's not just a Thai thing either. In many rural places around the world, people can be suspicious of strangers.

On a ride a while ago, I got lost way out in the countryside. I was high up in the hills and had sketchy phone coverage. Google Maps wasn't picking up my location, so I stopped at a stall by the roadside hoping to buy a cold drink, have a rest and get my bearings. The stall owners were very old, and I wouldn't have been surprised if they were growing opium in the fields behind the corrugated shack they lived in (which may have explained the reception I got). No one smiled at me when I indicated I wanted to buy a drink. The lady closest (and the only one who acknowledged me) glared with disdain and shook her head...hint taken.

I do not blame them for the way they reacted to me. After all, they would have seen very few Farangs, riding huge motorcycles, call into their little stall. So, I smiled and bowed, got a water bottle out of my luggage carrier, had a drink and was on my way. I didn't realise that getting lost while riding a motorcycle in rural Thailand could be so much fun.

Turning sixty isn't all it's cracked up to be, but there is something I am looking forward to. I'll be able to access my 401k and start looking for a worthwhile charity that cares for underprivileged children here in Thailand. The bulk of my money is tied up until December in a term deposit account. I'll reinvest and hopefully live long-term off the interest it accrues. My ultimate plan would be to give most of my money away, and when the last cent is gone, die that night in my sleep.

Calculating and estimating the logistics of this plan is not as easy as you might think. As you can imagine, figuring out how long I have to live is the quandary here. Perhaps a diagnosis may help the situation. I laugh now, but I remember my mother's eyes when she was told she had a year to live...and her immediate defiance (although this later changed to acceptance and determination to live the best she could until the end...which she did magnificently) Dying is easy to talk about in jest when we haven't yet received the news.


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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/profile/blog/neilfury/day/8-2-2024