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You are the average of the five people you spend the most time with

We become like the five people we spend the most time with


This fella named Jim Rohm, whom I’ve mentioned before, said something once that is the inverse of what I believe.

I believe that our friends mirror some quality of us. After all, people become our friends precisely because they see some part of the world we see.

For example, I don’t have any rabid football fans as friends because I’m not a rabid football friend.

Most of my friends are rum-swilling, chili- and gyro-eating, ambitious nerds because I’m a rum-swilling, chili- and gyro-eating, ambitious nerd. It’s my tribe.

But Jim Rohn said that we’re the average of the five people we spend the most time with.

We become like the five people we spend the most time with.

I think this is true too and yet another reason why I end up cutting so many people out of my life – because I want to be around people that point me in the direction I want to go.

Wanna be at least half as good a writer as my writer friend, at least half as a wrestler as my coach, at least half as good a lawyer as my boss, at least half as good a fencer…

Oh, you get the point.

I have 11,680 days left. I want them to matter.

Looking at the silliness I call my life, had five tickets to give out. Think I’ve chosen wisely.

You?

Location: caught in rain again, dammit
Mood: wet again
Music: I’ll admit I’m just the same as I was
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Pathological Altrusim

When kindness hurts


Perhaps one of the most disturbing things I’ve ever come across in my life is the true story of the victim that almost escaped Jeffrey Dahmer.

It’s so disturbing, in fact, that I’m unable to summarize it here. If you want to know more about it, google him and “escaped victim.” I caution you to think twice before you do, though.

In any case, had another night of insomnia recently and thought about a report I read recently by Oakland University professor Barbara Oakley, who coined a new term for something I’ve seen myself repeatedly: Pathological Altruism.

Simply put, it’s when being kind is the worst thing one can be. The Dahmer story is an extreme example but it’s an almost daily occurrence – like soccer trophies for just showing up.

We think we’re doing something kind when in fact we’re doing the exact opposite.

The wife and I watched Jamie Oliver’s TED talk about nutrition over the weekend where a grossly overweight woman came to the realization that she was – literally – killing her own children with a diet of fast food and soda.

She and I also talked about a friend I cut because he ended up being that one drunk idiot at our wedding amongst other questionable actions. He’s also had a string of really bad relationships and I’ve tried to explain that the common denominator in it all is…him.

But he keeps doing what he does and keeps getting what he gets. And I can’t surround myself with people that have no interest in being better than they were yesterday.

More on that Wednesday.

Getting back to pathological altruism, a buddy in college once came back from spring break and told me this story:

He’d been speeding home when a cop pulled him over and wrote him a ticket. The cop said he was sorry he did it but my buddy was going 50 in a 35 zone and it was foggy, as it often is in upstate NY. Stepping back into the car, my buddy continued on his way, depressed and irritated. Suddenly, a deer jumped out in front of him and he slammed on the brakes.

He said that the ticket probably saved his life, and at the very least, saved the life of the deer and his car.

Best ticket I ever got, he said.

In any case, one thing I can summarize here is a joke that goes something like this:

A bird was flying south for the winter when he became tired and fell out of the sky, landing in snow. Almost freezing to death, a cow happened to defecate on him. As the warm dung revived him, the bird began to sing. A wolf, hearing this, immediately dug him out of the dung and devoured him.

There are three morals to this story:

  1. Not everyone who craps on you is your enemy.
  2. Not everyone who pulls you out of crap is your friend.
  3. If you’re buried in crap, it’s best to keep quiet.

 

Location: caught in rain immediately before a 90 min phone call
Mood: wet
Music: Don’t take to heart the words that he says
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Laraha, Valencia, Curaçao, and Superman

Nurture versus Nature or Superman the Shoe Salesman

Nighttime Shot of Malaga Spain
After the Boston bombings, there were a number of people I knew that immediately spouted their conspiracy theories. And several of them argued that Americans somehow brought this upon themselves.

Of course, they are Americans but hold themselves separate and superior from the rest of us. Which is odd because several of them stopped formal education at high school.

The most recent events in London made me think of the whole nature versus nurture argument.

And oranges.

And Superman.

Because there’s this orange from Spain called the Valencia orange that’s supposed to amazingly delicious and sweet. They were hybridized in America from orange trees in Valencia, which in turn came from India.
Valencia Orange, picture from Wikipedia

Those same trees were planted on the island of Curaçao, where the soil there caused these delicious, sweet, bright orange, oranges to transform – on their own – into small, bitter, green, “oranges.” They turned into the Laraha fruit.

These fruit are so bitter that it’s said that goats on the island would rather starve to death than eat them.

Let me stop for a second and paraphrase a joke that I heard once, which says that: If Krypton never exploded and Kal-El/Superman stayed on the planet, what if he became a shoe salesman?

After all, he’s only Superman because he came here; home he would have been Al Bundy.

As the son of recent immigrants, I wonder about my possible pasts: what if we never came here from Taiwan? Who would I be, what would I be? It’s pure dumb luck, my lot in this world.

Turning back to the recent events of England, it was odd hearing the attackers speak clear British English. Is there some inherent glitch in people like this or is a unique combination of nature and nurture. I’m guessing that’s the case.

Wonder what these people’s  lives would had been had they not gone to the UK. And what then?

I’ve no answer.

Suppose not everything that heads off to distant lands become better with time, like rum.

Location: heading to the gym
Mood: muggy
Music: Who killed tangerine? The prettiest girl I’ve ever seen
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We don’t see things as they are, we see them as we are

We reveal a lot more of ourselves than we realize

Got injured in my ribs about two weeks ago so I’ve not been wrassln for a bit. Went back for the first time on Monday and it seemed fine. When class is over, we all stand in line to be dismissed.

While standing there, I realized I couldn’t breathe right as I couldn’t get my diaphragm to move. Things started to get get wonky and the next thing I knew I was on the floor.

Ended up being fine but the funny thing is that as it was happening, the first thing I thought was, “If you end up in the hospital again, the wife is totally not gonna let you wrassle or fence any more. Don’t hit your head going down!”

Being married really changes how you look at the world.

———-

Regarding my post from last week about mixed-race couples, someone I only kinda know on FB contacted me. We ended up chatting about China in general:

Him: Have you even been to China before?
Me: Actually yes, several times, in fact.
Him: As a tourist I bet.
Me: Nope, I was there on business.
Him: I bet you just saw all the tourist sites and had pictures of yourself eating dumplings.
Me: Neither, I didn’t have time to see anything, I was pressed for deadlines the entire time. And I don’t think I had any dumplings while I was there; in fact, I don’t even think I have pictures. And why pick on dumplings? What they’d ever do to you?

He finally ended up saying that, because I had a Caucasian wife and that must mean I don’t find Asian women attractive.

Him: It points to a lot of self-hatred.
Me: That’s a pretty big leap. OK, do you think Brad Pitt’s a good looking guy?
Him: (pause) I guess so.
Me: I do too. But if he asked you out right now, what would you say?
Him: I’m not gay .
Me: Nor am I. But, what you’re saying is that you find him attractive, just not in that way. You have preferences.
Him: It’s not the same thing!
Me: Why? Are you saying one’s natural and one’s unnatural? We all like what we like. Attraction is not a choice.

That’s when I realized it was all a waste of my time.

This woman named Anais Nin once said that, We don’t see things as they are, we see them as we are.

Her: He thinks you hate being Chinese? You love being Chinese!
Me: I know! We’re lovely and have the best dumplings.
Her: Well, those are just Chinese ravioli.

Location: not the gym
Mood: hungry
Music: sailed to Hong Kong harbour, the winds were warmer then
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Asian Males and White Females

I dunno, it’s just something I do

 

There’s this sword movement done where a block is performed with the spine of the blade and the sword then rolls into a slash. It’s really cool looking and possibly one of the most beautiful sword movements that exists.

I noticed it years ago with another fencer and asked him what it was. He looked at me, puzzled. And said, I dunno, it’s just something I do. For him, it was nothing special, just part of his makeup.

I’ve alluded to this in the past, such as when people are extraordinarily proud to be Irish, or Chinese, or what have you. For most of us, myself included, being Chinese is simply something I am.

Having said this, since my wife and I got married, we do notice that there are few couples like us: Asian male and White female (AMWF). In fact when we’re out and about, we invariably remark to each other when we notice another couple like us.

I bring all of this up because I was in court yesterday kiling time and I came across this blog entry called Why Aren’t We Talking More About The Rarity of AMWF? – and it really made me think.

While it should be noted that the writer is a Caucasian writer living in China (very cool), it’s just as true here in the States, I think.

Regarding my own experiences, there are many friends I have now that I’ve only recently met. And the funny thing is that the version of me they know is not the version I actually think I am in my head.

In college, I dated a Korean girl for years. In law school, it was a Chinese med student. Then I dated a hapa. Then I just dated.

There’s a running joke with some of my friends from 2008 onward that I only dated Caucasians. Which my older friends would find funny because they thought I only dated Asians.

And yet neither is true. I dated whomever I liked.

This version of me is only the part they know. Had an argument with a dolt I met online via FB who immediately labeled me as a self-hating Chinese man, which only made me roll my eyes and move on with my life.

After all, I’m not another person’s opinion of what I am. I am, simply, what I am.

Getting back to the  questions posed: Why are there so few Asian male, Caucasian female combinations?

I’m not sure.

Out and about, I was frequently the first and only Asian person many non-Asians dated. There were two common things they said. Either:

Regarding point one, a good deal of that has to do with exposure IMHO. If they don’t know any Asian men well, there’s no one to whom to be attracted.

As for point two, many of my male friends are:

  1. more strongly attracted to Asian females,
  2. more comfortable dating Asian female, or
  3. assuming that point one above is definitive – Non-Asian women are not attracted to Asian men.

I’ve never found number 3 to be true but this is just anecdotal to me and all of this is just my opinion.

I’m not really sure why I didn’t really think about it all that much while I was dating, mainly because – for me – it’s just something I did.

What do you think?

A Great Online Dating ProfileIf you liked this entry, I recently wrote an April 2014 book on how to write  A Great Online Dating Profile with 30 tips to get noticed and get more responses – it’s just $0.99 at Amazon, BN.com, and the Apple Store, as well as most other online retailers:

I also wrote a book about first dates with information I just haven’t seen in other books that I learned from three solid years of dating in NYC.

A Great First Date, early 2014It’s just $2.99 at at Amazon, BN.com, and the Apple Store.

 

Location: not in court
Mood: analytical
Music: Paris to China to Colorado
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Everybody knows, but no one really believes it

Look for the red things

Me: The thing is, there’s a difference between seeing and noticing. Noticing is when you consciously become aware of something. For example, if I said right now, Look for everything that’s red. You’d see a lot more red things.
Him: (looking around) Great, now all I see are the red things.
Me: (laughing) That’s what happens. You can’t un-notice something you’ve noticed. It’s called the Baader-Meinhof phenomenon.

Updating this blog a bit late because I’ve been trying to finish up a few assignments for clients.

Been watching the news about the three women they found; obviously it reminds me of the Jaycee Dugard story. Just like with her, compounding the basic horror of it all is also the fact that they were cheated out of those years.

Life is so short as it is.

I blinked and I’m 40.

Spalding Gray once said that Everybody knows they are going to die, but no one really believes it. Late at night, when I can’t sleep, I realize what it means and it keeps me up the rest of the night. Like last night.

Doubt you ever noticed, but for the past few years every time I write about dying, I put up a picture of a clock.

As I get older, I see notice more clocks and think about how short it all is.

And you can’t un-notice something you’ve noticed.

 

Location: in the basement of my brain again
Mood: nostalgic
Music: I don’t mind waiting in line
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The difference between Knowledge and Wisdom

Understanding what it really means/Seeing the grey

10th Avenue in Manhattan, NYC

Worked pretty much this entire weekend. Beat tired.

Life was simpler when you’re young. There was ever only black and white, good and evil, heroes and villains.

As you get older you realize there’s a lot of grey. Unless you never grow up. If you never grow up, then the world remains black and white. You don’t see the grey. Or all of the luck, stupid luck, and stupid involved in life.

If you see the grey, you see that there’s a lot of stupid involved in life.

Have you ever noticed that it’s the least educated, least traveled, least read of the people you know that have conspiracy theories? Because they have no background on which to base a logical conclusion, they make their own out of bits and pieces of trivia and fact.

They can’t discern the difference between knowledge and wisdom.

There’s this example in one of Malcolm Gladwell’s books where a writing teacher says to a buncha students that the election is the next day.

They’re to write about what it means.

And most of the kids write about the democratic process, the history of nation, the candidates, etc. Information, data, knowledge.

But one student understands what this really means. It means: No school tomorrow.

That’s wisdom. Understanding what things mean.

There’re people with the ability to see the grey and everyone else.

Stranger: How do they know they got the right guy? I mean, besides the shootout, the cop they shot, and the pictures, what evidence do they have these guys did anything?
Me: That’s true, besides the shootout, the cop they shot, the pictures – and the chase, the video, the ATM pics, the multiple eye-witnesses – besides those things, I suppose you’re right, they don’t have anything.

Location: in front of more papers
Mood: weary
Music: giving the academy a rain check
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The greatest trick the devil ever pulled

On evil: Nothing is ever anyone’s fault

Incandescent light bulb

The greatest trick the Devil ever pulled was convincing the world he didn’t exist. And like that, poof. He’s gone.
Verbal Kint, The Usual Suspects (film)

The insomnia’s been pretty bad lately. I should just stop wasting your time and my time and just write, “insomnia” and move on.

Insomnia.

Being awake at night, thought about Boston, Newtown, and Aurora and the nature of evil. Something about the dark turns one’s thoughts dark, I suppose.

People wonder if there is evil even actually exists.

I believe it does.

People are always surprised by that. They think I’m naive, but I submit that I think you’re naive if you don’t.

I think some people are evil not because of how they were brought up, or what happened to them. Theyr’e just twisted with no other explanation for it. Not biology, not upbringing, not society.

Nothing happened to me, Officer Starling. I happened. You can’t reduce me to a set of influences. You have given up good and evil for behaviorism, Officer Starling. You’ve got everybody in moral dignity pants – nothing is ever anybody’s fault. Look at me, Officer Starling. Can you stand to say I’m evil?
Hannibal Lecter, The Silence of the Lambs (novel)

Put a little less eloquently, some people are just born ______-up.

Don’t believe it when people try and convince you that there’s no such thing as evil. It’s there. And the sad thing is that you don’t need to go far to see it.

As I wrote the above, I got a news alert on my computer that five people were dead in a shooting. This just happened.

Which just makes me wonder if evil is a self-destruct sequence for our kind. Then again, all this is just my opinion. What do you think?

Me: Do you know why I hate things like the Disney films?
Him: No, why?
Me: Because the monsters all look like monsters. But Hitler, Mao, Pol Pot, Mao – these guys were just normal, plain-looking dudes. No one would have looked at them and thought, “Monster.” But that’s what they were. (later) Thanks for not choking me until I passed out.
Him: (laughing) Anytime, man.

Location: about to run to Chelsea
Mood: pensive
Music: I saw Satan laughing with delight the day the music died
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I’m all for marriage, gay or otherwise

Marriage is not just a piece of paper because we’re not teenagers

Black and white dinner setting

I wrote the below a long time ago to a friend who told me she loved her boyfriend but wouldn’t marry him because marriage was “just a piece of paper.”

———-

Let’s put aside all these teenage ideas of love and romance and talk about this like realistic adults, ok?

This fella named Pericles once said, Just because you do not take an interest in politics, doesn’t mean that politics won’t take an interest in you.

Hold that thought.

Yes, you can live without a piece of paper that says you’re married. But you’re gonna need a lot more papers without that marriage license.

  • Have a bank account together? You’ll need a piece of paper that says you have access to all monies in each of those accounts.
  • Have a car? You’ll need a piece of paper that says you’re allowed to drive it.
  • You live in his house? You’ll need a piece of paper that says you’re allowed to stay in it if something happens to him.
  • He’s in an accident? You’ll need a piece of paper that says you’re allowed to see him.

You see where I’m going with this, yeah?

We’re talking thousands of different documents – and you’ll also need to predict the future.

Can you predict that you two will be on vacation one day, you’ll both be riding motorcycles, a mudslide comes, kills him, and your passports are in your hotel room lockbox that only he knows the combo for and he put the room on his credit card, so you cannot say goodbye to him at all?

That’s an actual case!

So, without that license – that “piece of paper” you so casually dismiss – each time you two do anything together, you’ll need a different piece of paper.

You also need those papers notarized because the mom/dad/brother/former kid will fight you on it. You need to go to court to prove it’s real. This happens constantly.

Google “stieg larsson girlfriend.” Constantly.

I’m working on something where my client has spent $60,000 to disprove a SINGLE signature on a single doc.

Another true example (and why I’m for gay marriage) an insurance company disallowed a man from collecting the $1 million for insurance for his mate for cancer treatment. He went to court and eventually won – but his mate died in that time.

He didn’t have the right to get the legal grace of marriage. You do.

Look, if you don’t want to get married because of the cost, or because you don’t really love him, or whatever, say that. But don’t say it’s because you don’t need a piece of paper that says you two love each other. We’re not teenagers.

Just because you do not take an interest in politics, the government, doesn’t mean that politics the government won’t take an interest in you.

My legal $0.02,

LL

———-

They broke up not that long ago

I wrote once that attraction is not a choice. Integrity forces me to say that it’s not a qualified statement: Attraction is not a choice for straight people only.

As for me, I find marriage comforting. It’s nice to know that someone is on your side.

Life is hard enough without someone on your side. Everyone needs someone on their side.

Me: (to wife) Can you help me with something?
Her: Sure.

Location: getting dressed to see my pop (again)
Mood: hopeful
Music: You’ve got your home of the brave and I’ve got my land of the free
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Goldfish are limited to the size of their bowl

Your surroundings determine your growth

The title of this post is a bit misleading; it’s only partly true that it’s the size of a bowl that limits the size of a goldfish. It’s more accurate to say that:

A goldfish in a small bowl, that’s fed just a little bit, will grow slowly and most likely die as a small goldfish. A lot has to do with the nitrate concentration of the bowl whereby the smaller the bowl, the higher the relative concentration.

But for the sake of not boring you more than I normally do, let’s just say it’s (a) the size of the bowl, (b) the type of fish, and (c) how much crap that fish ingests.

I have an interesting cross section of friends. One group is made up of my college friends, the other is made up of my business/legal friends, the other is made up by my fencing/wrasslin/fighting friends.

If there is a plus with being almost 40, it’s that I can choose exactly what to do with my time, and with whom I spend it. I get to choose my bowl, if you will.

Another thing I do is try to minimize the amount of crap I take in, both literally and figuratively. Literally, I try to eat well and minimize my intake of processed foods whenever possible. Gyros not withstanding. Pureprovender helps me out with this.

Figuratively, try to minimize my intake of crap beliefs whenever possible too. I’m regularly surprised who I find on one end of a spectrum or another.

The hopelessly liberal that believe that every person of wealth is evil (type of fish) and the intransigent conservative that ignores environment (size of bowl).

The feverishly religious is as difficult to stand as the ardently atheist. The list goes on.

I recognize my own prejudices but, because of social media, have to put up all these shrill – unsourced – beliefs.

Luckily, I can block them out but I set up a reminder for myself to check in with them every so often. But it’s ever the same. They’re in their same bowls, ingesting the same nitrogen. A frog in a well knows nothing of the ocean.

It’s disappointing but living your own life is hard enough so I just let be and swim away.

As for me, I seek bigger bowls whenever possible.

Mood: upbeat
Music: I’m just a normal boy that sank when I fell overboard
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