Reel Life

As soon as I started stating in Facebook that I would venture to watch my 100 most favorite films, a friend asked me why I would spend (that much) time watching movies when all I needed to do was download the American Film Institute's Best 100 films of all time, or google Time Magazine's 100 most outstanding films. Same friend asked, "Do you really want to go through and spend all your free time -- whatever you have left -- sitting on your couch and watch movie after movie, many of which are mere suggestions from eager friends?" (BTW -- this same person suggested 12 of the first 50 movies I listed).

I did not reply verbally. Instead, I shrugged my shoulders, raised my palms up and tilted my head to one side, which is really my polite way of saying, "whatever!"

But there is a reason. One morning as I was listening to a morning news movie critic lambast a film that I thought was excellently made, I started to wonder my taste in everything. What kind of films do I like? And what do these movies say about me? Do I like these movies because they were award-winning, critically acclaimed projects? Or was there a more basic tickle I had that I would not dare declare in public? In the same vein, what kind of music, food, books, places and such interest me and what does the totality of these interests say about me as a person?

So I set on a journey -- to watch these films is to discover myself. What tugs at my, often called pragmatic and academic, heart and mind?

So here we go. After watching about 88 or so films since October 2009, I have come up with the first 50 of the RT 100. And what did I like about these films? A lot.

What does it say about me? You be the judge.

I find that special effects do not interest me at all -- humans turning into wolves, Golden Gate bridge being cut in pieces and made to float in mid air, or a tidal wave toppling over the Empire State Building and flooding all of Manhattan -- these do not impress me. Townsfolk dancing in synchronized, choreographed fashion don't thrill me. And couples screaming at each other or talking as they shed tears of heartbreak on a bridge overlooking a river shimmering in the golden rays of a setting sun -- Please! I could vomit.

But simple stories interest me -- a lawyer defending a disadvantaged poor soul (To Kill A Mockingbird), a bet collector trying to survive on a daily basis by taking advantage of the ignorance of others (Kubrador), or even an operetta about young star-crossed lovers who couldn't fulfill a promise they made to each other (Umbrellas of Cherbourg). Movies have shown me that there is no such thing as a boring life. Life is as colorful and as exciting as you make it out to be. Delivering mail (Il Postino) becomes an adventure in discovering how many ways can one express one's devotion to a loved one.

The power of the human spirit to overcome the biggest hurdles inspires me. Granted, some films drown in the "oh, poor is me" syndrome and lead you to a tragic ending, they still show that all of us have the determination, tenacity, and desire to evolve to be better, happier beings. How a child crosses international borders just to be reunited with his mother (La Luna Misma) or how a young man dares to face opponent after opponent only to fulfill his destiny to become a woman (Beautiful Boxer), or how a man with AIDS dares to face humiliation and scorn to get justice (Philadelphia). No problem is too big to drown our resolve to live a life of dignity, respect and fulfillment.

We have the power to change the course of our lives -- no matter how rough the terrain may be. We could lose our children (Sophie's Choice), our best friend (Kite Runner), our dignity (Water), but the capacity to hold on to a dream and rework our strategy over and over and over again remains in our possession. We will live through a hundred lifetimes if that is what it takes to get to fulfillment -- and sacrifice what we need to sacrifice if in the end, it will bring a greater good.

I am fascinated with eternal optimism and with people who view life as a big stage to be entertained from. Nothing fazes them. The boy in UP, or Amelie, or Holly Golightly, Chef Babette, Edith Piaf -- they all saw the goodness in people and the goodness in themselves. I want to see the goodness in everything. To entertain and be entertained. To live life as a comedy where every turn is a fascinating storyline, and everyone can, indeed, win.

I am emboldened by great vision. Of people who can speak from the heart and move a nation. Through films, I am a witness to history -- how a nation is born (Gandhi), how the mafia is ruled (Godfather), how a town evolves (Cinema Paradiso), and how some foreign cultures challenge every core principle we have as a civilized society (Raise the Red Lantern).

The basic rule that good wins over evil is not a cliche. Whether it happens in a galaxy far, far away (Star Wars) or in some magical place in deep, inner earth (Pan's Labyrinth), this universal truth is something we all embrace and for which we cheer when we see it in widescreen. The ending may be predictable, but the underdog with the heart of gold always, always wins on screen.

But the harsh realities of human nature is also exposed. We know how we can manipulate desires to get our victories: how a woman uses lust as a way to take revenge (Insiang), or how we put ourselves at risk for material gain (Maria Full of Grace), or how the ravages of war spare no one, not even the innocent (Au Revoir Les Enfants).

Life is crazy (Women on the Verge of a Nervous Breakdown), is sad (Farewell My Concubine), is desolate and lonely (Out of Africa), but with family and friends it can be bearable - even melodic, comical, breathlessly exciting, daring, and sexy.

I find that as I watch films that are well-directed, well-acted, well-shot, well-lighted, well-treated with stories that are well-written, conceived, adapted and supported with music that are well-scored, well-timed, that they become more than just entertainment. They transcend beyond moving pictures that fill up a screen for 120 or so minutes. They become a part of your life, a part of your hopes, and a part of your losses. They harken you to a time when you were a child yourself hiding up in a tree with a piece of cookie snatched from a well sealed jar on the kitchen counter. These films remind you why you love and why you hate, why you left that good-for-nothing, alcoholic bum you once called your husband, and why the person you are seated next to on your couch now has become the love of your life. These films, these 50 at least, tell me, no, they validate for me what I have lived through the past 44 years and remind me that I have not done badly myself. I may not have flown in a propeller plane over the fields of Africa, nor have I dared to seduce someone through my culinary talents, but as scene after scene is played out, I am told that yes, I have loved deeply and passionately, that I worked hard to get to where I am professionally, and why, above all the conflict and rage in human history, someone needs to dare stand up and speak the truth.

The movies do not just "make me want to become a better man" (a prize to whoever can name the film that this line is from), they make me want to become a better citizen of an an ever evolving community.

I can only imagine what the next 50 films will make me want to be...

Fairy Tales, Getting the Prince and Modern 5th graders

Last night, I combined 2 lessons into one -- compare and contrast 2 fairy tales -- both having similar concepts to Cinderella: one was a Canadian Indian story and the other about Cindy Ellie in East Baltimore. The scholars needed to know how to compare and contrast two separate things. In this case, two fairy tales.

I asked Jonathan and Jessinia, both 5th graders, to read with flare and drama -- that made for a fun reading for all of us.

We then compared and contrasted the two stories: Cinderella had a pumpkin, Cindy Ellie had onions! CInderella had glas slippers, Cindy Ellie had gold sandals. Cinderella had a fairy godmother, Cindy Ellie had a godma. And both girls in the story were treated badly by their ugly sisters, but both got the prince in the end.

Which led me to an interesting discussion with them:

First question: what's so great about getting the man in the end? Is this the goal of every young girl? Jessinia said, "well thats because they are not working and they don't want to be with their sisters anymore. But if they were working in like an office or something then maybe they wouldn't get marriedd so soon."

Second question: why are fairy tales always starring girls?

Jonathan said because girls read fairy tales. I said, I read fairy tales. Jonathan said thats because you're a mentor. You have to read it. Id rather watch football (which led us to a tangent about the Redskins vs Raiders game last Sunday but thats beside the point and jessinia was annoyed we took 5 minutes to discuss the game).

Third Question: Name 2 fairy tales that star guys. Any guesses?

Frog Prince, Aladin, Jack and the Beanstalk, Pincocchio, come to mind.

Fourth Question: You need to write a modern fairy tale starring yourself.

Jessinia asked -- do we need to get married to a guy in the end?

I said no.

She said, oh good. Because I don't like anybody right now.

Thanks

I have been very lucky, I know. A lot in my life came to me as opportunities -- some I took advantage of, some I let go. No regrets there. I am thankful for those opportunities that were provided both consciously and unconsciously by many people I respect and admire. Here are some of them:

Papa and Mama - I cannot think of a better set of parents. They were the perfect blend. Papa is very businesslike -- focused, to the point, stern, disciplined and hardworking. Mama was idealistic, optimistic, romantic, entrepreneurial, and very loving. From my Papa, I learned how to think strategically -- how one action can lead to several others. From my Mama, I learned to believe in the goodness in people and that love matters most both for heart and mind.

Ms. Silvatus, Mr. Dizon, Mr. Fabian, Mrs. Rodrigo, Dr. Chao - my 3rd grade teacher, my 6th grade teacher, my 6th grade Moderator, my junior year high school teacher, and my graduate school advisor. They were more than teachers. They were mentors. They believed in my capacity to learn at high levels and pushed me to reach my potential. My view of life, learning and potential stem from what they showed me -- that smarts and talent are not enough. It takes hard work, sweat and a lot of thinking to really learn and absorb what you've learned. Learning is not just about reading or writing or listening in class. Learning is mostly about experience and absorbing whatever life has to offer and brings to you. I was neither their favorite nor their pet, but I was a mind to mold. I can only hope that they would be proud of what I have accomplished so far, and that, in repayment, I can translate and transfer that inspiration to other young people now.

Tita Ernie and Yeyeng - Tita Ernie was showbiz -- she knew everyone and everyone knew her. She was articulate, vocal, and very very active. She had the knack for smart questions and always busy. She made it possible for me to come to the US, and for that I will be forever grateful. Yeyeng was the most adoring grandmother a kid can ever have -- she cooked everything you wanted, cut your hair in anime fashion, and was always groovy and colorful in her wardrobe. She loved life. She loved her husband, her children and grandchildren. She was God fearing, faithful and devoted. In short, she was grounded in her principles. I never met any other person as grounded as she was.

Bob Atria, Mike Szubski, Dan Waller, Dick Johnson, Amanda Broun, Wendy Puriefoy - former supervisors, bosses, and mentors. Everything I needed to know how leadership, management and caring for people you work with I learned from each and everyone of these people. From being a "temporary data entry clerk" to Chief of staff of a national education network, I learned that the best way to grow an organization is to grow its people. Nothing more, nothing less. That vision without strategy is a wish, and strategy without vision is merely being busy. These are smart, articulate, focused managers. They loved their work, they loved getting to work. It was insanely infectious. I only hope that being CEO now, I can also have a similar impact on those who work for and with me.

Mark Roman, Dante Gatmaytan, BAGOBOS, Munam Villorante - my 3rd grade best friend, my high school best friend, my college friends, and my Filipino friend in DC -- they remind me that I am never on my own, and that there are people upon whom I can always count and lean. My fondest memories of childhood, adolescence and adulthood involve each of them -- and though I have not been in contact with Mark for over 35 years, I am sure he also remembers the other kid whom the teacher in 3rd grade class said was most behaved. Dante is my idol in grassroots activism -- he has managed to stay true his passion and raise a beautiful family. BAGOBOS is a fun crowd -- through thick and thin. And Munam is the most creative, passionate, artistic, and craziest Pinoy I know in the Metro DC area. Her honesty, verve and excitement over sentimental things always remind me that its the small things that matter in life: your love for your child, your spouse, and the ways you can help people around as people have helped you in the past.

William - my rock, my world. I have not met anyone funnier, smarter, more hardworking, and more devoted than William. What he values the most are the simple things in life -- a good home, dear friends, meaningful work, and the capacity to appreciate new experiences. Like me, he is a small boy in a big man's body -- playful, cheerful, and loving. I hope we never grow up, and that we will always be hungry to discover the world over and over again.

A Letter to My Nieces and Nephews

Hey guys,

As the weather in Washington DC turns colder and the trees along New Hampshire Avenue begin to lose their leaves, I am reminded that the holidays are just around the corner and that means I get to see you all again pretty soon. I am so excited!

There is never a day that passes without me thinking about how you all are doing. Fortunately, your parents are often on-line and whenever we do get to chat, they always tell me how things are with you and relay to me your latest antics -- both good and bad.

I miss you guys. It is not just the "I miss you" that means "I never get to see you." It is the "I miss you" kind that makes me a little bit regretful that I don't get to be part of your everyday life, and you in mine. There is so much that I want to make sure you know and make you feel good about, and there is also so much I want to learn and witness from you.

One of the foremost things I want you to know is that you have kind, loving parents. I don't think there is a parent in this world who wishes less for their children than they have had, but your parents (my brothers and sisters) would move heaven and earth for you guys. They would work hard, sweat blood, and give up their souls for you. I hope you realize that.

I never thought they would be such great parents, to be honest. Seriously, while growing up I always observed them to be free-wheeling, stubborn crazies. Ugh, they were brats! We all were, I think. But they grew up nicely...decently, in fact. A little bit still crazy at times, but overall good, decent folks. I could tell you about some crazy things they did back when we were growing up in our duplex-turned-into-one house on 10th Avenue in Quezon City, but they will probably strangle me for giving you ammunition for possible blackmail material down the road. So I will leave it up to them to tell you some snippets of our often funny yet wholesome experiences.

But let me first tell you about things you should feel lucky not to experience --

1) Hauling a portable typewriter to school to finish term papers that require specific margins, perfect typing skills, and carbon paper -- because you always need to have a copy for back up just in case your teacher loses the one you submitted and claims you never did turn it in. Thank Jobs and Wozniak for developing the personal computer and changing the way we write our papers.

2) Waiting for the neighbor to end their phone call so you can call your friends -- party lines are never a party. Imagine a phone line -- yes, an actual, real wire that connects your phone to some light post out on the street. That line would be shared by two or three or even four houses. You share one phone number and you just need to be vigilant about when to use it so as not to be bothered or pestered by neighbors who could listen in on your conversation. Count everyday as a blessing every time you pick up your cellphone and call or text someone at your convenience. Good times, indeed!

3) Lining up at the post office to buy stamps and mail a letter to someone living some 6000 miles away. Do you know how often I heard from your parents while I was living in the US during my teens and early 20s? Probably once every two months. Sixty days I would wait to receive a letter from Manila -- and the letter would have two full pages of stories and notes, and three pages of requests to buy clothing items, toys, or food (Hm mm.. not much has changed in that department). Thank heavens for e-mail, text and Face book. I get to read about your thoughts that moment you think it and type it in.

But there are certain things you missed out, and chances are you will never get to enjoy:

1) watching your parents play war with their brand new toy guns only to hurt each other at some point. Someone will cry and your grandpa would collect the toy guns and smash them to the ground. That was quite a sight.

2) Get the family around the television after dinner to watch Love Boat, CHIPS, and Knight rider in one evening. You won't get to see your grandma get up and leave to go to another room to watch "See-True," the primary entertainment news/gossip program during those times. You will never get to experience what its like for a family of five to get so excited because your grandpa decided to open a bar of Nestle Crunch -- freshly bought from a PX store somewhere in Paranaque (I think Ingrid is the name of the woman who sold it to him). Yep...we would share one giant bar of nestle crunch! Impossible to imagine, isn't it?

3) Speaking of your grandma, I am sad that you never got a chance to know her. She was the most loving, giving, idealistic, generous woman I have ever known. She would have enjoyed seeing you all gathered in the living room being loud and funny as you all are now. There is so much I want to say about her that you should know, but I'll save it for another time. But do know this -- she held our family close and tight. Your grandma deserves a lot of credit for making sure we are one big, close family. Through thick and thin, poverty or health, we are one.

You are all going to grow up and experience different and similar things. You will love your parents, and you will hate them. There will be times when they are the best people in your life, and times when you don't even want them in your closed circle. Its normal. Its okay. We do not always have to like each other -- we do, however, support each other always. In tough times or easy, we are there for each other. And as long as there is Tagle standing up in the room, you can always count on someone to lean on.

I know. For over 25 years I have lived on my own, but I can always count on family to be there. And these past twenty five years, I have felt closer to them -- to you -- even if I do not see each and everyone of you on a daily basis. These 25 years have not been for nothing. I learned a lot about knowing what is truly worthy and valuable. Here are another three lessons I always want you to remember:

1) Value your education. School is not just a routine to do on a daily basis. School is not just about submitting term papers, or doing homework. Its not something you hope you can just go through and and hope to get it over with. There is nothing better than a good education. Its the daily realization of your growing capacity to become better people and good citizens. I know it sounds mushy, but believe me. I speak from experience. Never take for granted the kind of education you are receiving. It will hone you to become the person you will be in the future. Going to school may feel right now like something you just have to do because your parents say you need to, but I hope you realize that it is really the avenue for you to be kind of people you always want to be (yes, even becoming the dinosaur you want to be when you grow up).

2) Saying I love you is never corny. When I would speak to your grandma on the phone, she would always end it with "Love you, darling ko". Ugh, I felt squeamish. I never said it back. And you know what? Now, I wish I did. I wish that I said it to her everyday and every time I hear her voice. I want to hug her close and tell her that I do love her and I am glad that I am her darling. Now, I would give up everything I have to do that even if just once. To realize what one had to go through to give you every possible chance to succeed in life is to discover that there is nothing corny or squeamish about saying I love you.

3) Never be afraid to discover the world. I know that you have many priorities and dreams. One of them is to be liked in school, to have friends you can hang out with, and well..not be bullied. We have all been there, believe me. But there is a much bigger world out there -- beyond the 2 or 3 best friends you now have, beyond the school grounds you study in, and beyond the neighborhood you live in. There is so much to learn and experience and absorb. You will have dreams and ambitions, and some of them may seem pretty exciting for the moment. But in this regard, be selfish. Think about what the world has to offer your fresh young minds and its all for you to take. Go out there and discover it, gather as much as you can, and learn as much as you can. Don't get stuck in one corner. Don't give in to short term pressures to be liked or be popular. Be bold and know your potential is limitless --

I cannot wait to see you all for the holidays....you all should have grown up at least an inch -- and wider, too, as the pictures seem to indicate (LOL)....that is all good!

PS -- Regards to your parents, tell them not to smash your toys on the floor when they hear you cry...

5th Grade, Pupusas and Tokyo in China

Last night, I started mentoring two 5th grade scholars at one of Higher Achievement's centers in Washington, DC. Jessinia just turned eleven and Jonathan is ten years old. To introduce us to each other, I asked each of them to make a list of things about them that would let me get to know them better. I asked for their favorite subjects in school. Jessinia likes science and social studies because she likes learning new things, while Jonathan likes reading because he likes to write stories. Both think Math is hard and takes a lot of hard work.

I asked them about favorite food. Jessinia likes pizza…with pepperoni…from Dominos. Jonathan likes chicken parmesan. His choice came as a no brainer when he explained he wanted to be a chef when he grows up. We talked about food that he already knows how to cook.”Eggs,” he said, “I scramble it with salt, pepper.” Jessinia, not to be outdone, said she knows how to make tortillas. And Jonathan, in a show of one upmanship raised the bar: he knows how to make pupusas.

“You take the dough like this, and roll it like this with your hands."
"Okay, " I imitated with my own hands.
"Then you take the chicken or the carnitas and put in the middle like this."
"Uhmm, " I wondered, "how do I cook the chicken or carnitas?"
"Uhmm.. I don't know, It just comes that way. I will ask my dad, but usually when I get to the kitchen to help, its ready."

Both spoke about their fathers in high regard. Their fathers are the best – one put his son in the soccer team, while the other takes his daughter shopping for things she needs in school. The high level of pride and beam in their eyes when they talk about the work their fathers do were feelings I can relate to. Both of their dads are great cooks – in fact one is a chef at a big hotel in downtown.

We then moved on to the lesson at hand: understanding standard English and vernacular (they learned the definition of the word vernacular, which according to American Dictionary are 1) the language of state or nation of origin; 2) slang; or 3) everyday language. It was differentiated from standard English.

Why do you need to be good at both vernacular and standard English?
Both gave good answers:
1) Because in school they are strict about standard English;
2) Because other members of your family can only speak Spanish so you need to be able to talk to them and there are other people who only speak English.
3) Because if you are applying for a job, its like if you know two languages, you will get hired.

Its amazing how our scholars can grasp the real world issues of culture, economy, and of course street survival -- i.e., how do you get through the day without getting trouble from anyone.
And then they started asking me about my language -- which led to my travels, which led to China. They asked me 3 times throughout the evening if I were Chinese. Three times I reminded them I'm Filipino. And three times they asked me why I looked Chinese.

Anyway, we had some geography lessons as well, because they asked about China a lot..like:
1) Is the Great Wall really great? I said yes, its more than four thousand miles long and very, very old. It was meant to keep enemies out.
2) Is Tokyo the largest city in China? Uhmm.. no because Tokyo is in Japan. The largest city in China is Shanghai. There are places in China that are larger than Texas which is considered a province, and they have big cities, too.
3) We love Chinese food. What's the best Chinese restaurant in DC? I said, probably Mei Wah on M Street, but I havent been to all. Jonathan said the best is the one beside 7-11. He likes the fried rice there.

Lead!

Ever since I became Higher Achievement's CEO, I have been hungry for leadership materials. I would read everything I can grab a hold of-- from Jim Collins' Good to Great to Bridgespan articles on leadership components and factors. I would deconstruct theories on leadership and define each segment, and reconstruct it using various theories on change, organization behavior, and people management. I have even put several core models in place at Higher Achievement: Gallup Institute's strength-based approach to management, Collin's hedgehog principle to maintain focus, and even Meadow's systems-based approach to sustainability and balance.

It is as if leadership is an exact science -- a set of knowledge based on a series of processes, systems, actions, and functions that lead to solid outcomes.

When, in fact, there are very human (i.e., imperfect) and contextual elements to leadership, many of which we experience on a daily basis. Some of it is survival instinct, some are reactions to external forces. There are a fewI want to point out that are often neglected in discussions and overview of effective leadership:

1. Fear
I am constantly afraid. Afraid that I may make the wrong decision, which can impact many individuals and their families. An opportunity missed could lead to scarcity of resources -- and scarcity of resources lead to budget cuts. I am also afraid of unintended consequences. Many choices lead to certain outcomes and results we never anticipate. There are lots of what ifs, perhaps(es), and even maybes in a position of constant decision making. One needs to weigh not just facts but also intuition and gut. It is easy to accept responsibility for consequences for one's decision and action, but it is another to witness the impact of these consequences on other people.

2. Doubt
Sometimes I put in question my own capacities. How did I get here? Do I belong here? With so many people smarter, bolder, braver, more attractive, more personable, why am I the one in this position? What did I do to get to this level of "vision and inspiration?" As an ethnic minority, I often find myself in formal and informal discussions of race, class and power --whether I want to or not. Did my talents and skills really land me at where I am, or is merely the mix of opportunity, quotas, and referrals? Stripped down to the bare essentials, do I really have what it takes?

3. Guilt
Regardless of how inclusive one's management style or process is, the buck stops at the top -- leaders cannot hold others accountable for the decisions made at the top. Leaders depend on data and information at hand, interaction with other key stakeholders, and discussions of the pros and cons. But the act of bridge crossing is made alone. And after the decision is made, leaders often look back to see the aftermath of a path not taken. I often look back at certain decisions and view the various scenarios that could have saved a job, or served more clients, or saved a department from cuts. Its a never ending process. And, oh, the burden of a wrong decision -- the wrong hire, the wrong message, the wrong strategy --- a leader is often left with this strange pang of guilt: why did I do that???

4. Solitude
Alone. One. Solo. There are no peers in an organization that one leads. You manage a team, you report to a board. The peers are in their own little islands scattered across the sea and sometimes there are no bridges to connect them. You witness other leaders' actions and a stranger to your own. It is not an issue of trust, but accountability. It is never a leader's salvo to bring someone else down with him. It is a tough and interesting ride to the top, but once there, it is isolating.

Fear. Doubt. Guilt. Solitude. These are not necessarily negative terms. They are not meant to scare off anyone from pursuing leadership. It is actually brave and bold to embrace these vulnerabilities for it is in accepting and embracing one's own humanity that leadership begins to solidify. To know your vulnerabilities is to accept that you are not indispensable. And you will constantly battle for survival. It is usually the proud ones who do not see the attack coming. It is the proud ones that tumble with the giant waves.

I seek guidance. I seek understanding. For every decision I make, I am aware of the hundred ones that I don't. For every question answered, ten more pop up. And it is the balancing of what I can manage and control, and what I need to let go of that dictates my daily routine.

Is there an end to this balancing act? It is as if you asked if there is an end to life. The balancing ends when your arms get tired of carrying the weight, when your lung collapses from breathing in and out too much, when your heart stops pumping, and your spirit loses the desire to soar. Anyone can have wings, but few have the desire to soar.

Train, Train, Go Away

5:45 am and I have my goals written on paper as clear as day and the September 2007 issue of Muscle & Fitness magazine. After waiting for what seemed like forever (and a day), the trainer finally walked into the gym and, seeing that no one else was seated in the trainer's office except me, asked, "Richard?"

I stood and extended by my hand to shake his. He mentioned to call him "Rhys."

"So what can I help you with?" he asked.

I showed him the magazine, pointed at the cover and said, "I want to look like this."

He took the magazine off my hand, and holding it just under his belly with both hands, quizzically looked and told me point blank, "But you can't look like this."

"What do you mean I can't look like that?"

He gave the magazine back to me. "Well, dude, first of all. The guy on the cover is white. You're Asian. And he must be what, 30 tops? Aren't you like forty or something?"

Maybe this was not such a good idea after all. Maybe I should have stayed with my routine of working out by myself. This guy just broke 3 rules of my "I don't deal with people who are.." guide:

First, no one calls me "dude." If we were drunk, in college, and high on pot, perhaps. Yes, call me dude. But no one was drunk that early morning. And we were hardly in college, and god, I hope, he wasn't high. Nevertheless, I am not "dude." I am Richard.

Second, no one, in my presence, can act stupid. Because if they do, that means I knowingly submitted myself to be in the presence of stupid people. And I do not put my self in situations where I could find myself looking for the nearest exit. Mingling at a cocktail party chatting about the rain in Spain that stayed on the plain? Sure, I will try anything. But after a while, you know where that conversation is going, so you either switch topics or switch guests.

Third, no one insults me and gets away with it. I am, after all, what my sisters call a well-honed, self-taught insultant. Call me old and I will, within a flicker of breath, call you out on your horribly dyed blond hair, steroid injected neckline, and pimply squash of a nose. Besides...who is he to tell me what I can or cannot look like? Obviously he is the one with the identity crisis: calling himself Rhys when his name is actually Rafael.

So I had a retort. I am not trying to "LOOK" like the guy on the cover. I want to have the body type of the guy on the cover. Massive, lean, and symmetrical.

"Oh," he said, "that!"

Yes, Frankenfreak,....that!

He took a look at my build. "Well...you are already huge..tall and huge."

Six feet, one inch tall. One hundred eighty seven pounds. It says right there on the form I filled out.

He also said, "this takes a lot of work."

Come on people, give me a break! Am I on candid camera or something? Seriously. People work on a college degree to say those lines? Of course it takes work. You do not think my waking up at 4:30 in the morning for the last twenty three years of my life to haul 25 -pound dumbbells over my head repeatedly until I forget the rep count (or run out of breath, whichever comes first) not work???

So I simply said, "I am willing to do whatever it takes to look like this."

This -- by the way -- is what many call the ultimate picture of a manly physique: broad, meaty shoulders, melon-sized biceps, mountainous chest, valley-wide back, and tapering into the smallest waist you can imagine on a six foot frame. Yes I am a gym rat and I wanted the body to prove it. At 44.

He asked me about my routine -- the exercises I do, how often and how many days of the week.

Everyday, I said. Or at least, I try to everyday. It averages about 4 to 5 days a week. For about an hour an a half each session. And I try to do cardio at least three days a week -- although lately, the call of the couch had been louder than the call of the treadmill.

"Well," he assessed,"your shape is not bad. I'd say we should concentrate more on the side delts to round up the shoulders. And your chest is too big compared to your back and arms. We'll ease up on that. And add some weight to your arm sets. And focus on more targeted areas of the back."

"Let me see your legs" he ordered.

I took my sweat pants off and revealed my pale leg skin in running shorts.

"We need to beef up your legs. They are not skinny. But they need to be defined. We'll get you doing calf raises in no time!"

He asked me about my diet.

That's where my defenses went down. My diet. He was about to discover my Waterloo. My Achilles heel. My Bay of Pigs. My Pearl Harbour.

"What do you have for breakfast?"

I pretended to think back. But at heart I knew: Sausage biscuit with egg, or an egg scramble burrito. Sometimes, when I am in a hurry: a blueberry muffin.

Lunch? Cosi sandwiches, chips, diet coke...and a brownie. Or a cookie. Or a frozen custard. Heck, I sometimes have the frozen custard FOR lunch!

Dinner -- is whatever's left from the previous day. Sometimes pizza, if lazy. Or if adventurous: Crawfish in saffron cream sauce over penne pasta.

"Rhys" just stared at me as I narrated the items. "You know," he said, "every time you eat those, you are negating the hard work you do at the gym."

I nodded my head. "But," I said, "I look at it from the point of being able to eat whatever I want because I work my ass off at the gym!"

He shook his head. He then went on to say that the health and shape of our bodies is 60% diet, 30% exercise, and 10% genes. The big part of being lean and mean is eating foods that are lean and mean. He wrote the word SUGAR on a sheet and put a big X mark over it. "No sugar," he said, "for the next six weeks." He wrote the word VEGETABLES. And put a check mark next to it. "Beginning this week, you will eat fresh, leafy, green and yellow vegetables. And lots of them."

Fat. He wrote this word in big old letters. "There is good fat -- omega 3s -- fish oils, olive oil, you know -- seafood fare....And there is bad fat: solid lard that blocks your arteries. We will stay away from those."

I looked at the list. My heart sank. Do I really need to give up what I enjoy to look like the guy on the cover? Does this guy on the cover even exist in real life? Does he have friends? Or does everyone hate him for the way he looks? Does he really enjoy eating boiled chicken, steamed sweet potato, and an orange for dessert? This cover guy must be grumpy everyday. I would be if that is all I ate.

I know there are certain things we give up because we know the long term pay off. We study hard for twenty (sometimes twenty four) years because a college degree will get us better paying jobs. We work on relationships because we know it establishes stability and fulfillment. We tend to our gardens on the off season because we know come harvest time, we reap the benefits of toiling the soil. And we practice our craft because it is, in the long run, the work that gives our souls meaning, depth, and relevance.

But some things are not meant giving up. Not the feeling of being back home as a 12-year old and biting on to a pancake swimming in butter and maple syrup, not the enjoyment of a frozen creamy dairy product that reminds you of evening runs to Dairy Queen with your grandfather, or the homemade treats wrapped in foil coming out of grandma's huge purse. You do not give up those things because it is those things that hearken you to a time when everything was all right. You were loved, taken cared of...you were home.

"Any questions?" Rhys asked.

"Yes," I said. "Can I get a refund for this first session?"