My Friend Johnny Lewis

He took the guitar, swung it over his head and pounded it into the ground, over and over again. Smashing it to bits. A splinter caught me in the eye. He proceeded to shove a stack of books off the shelf and onto the ground. He collapsed into a pile, head in hands and weeping freely.

This was Johnny Lewis. And he was in his element in acting. And I was on the other side of the camera to watch this commitment.

The tragedy that befell Johnny is still a mystery. I'm sure many people are going to want to draw their own conclusion. But the Johnny I knew was such a generous human being, what is being written about him is truly confusing.

About a few months ago, I emailed him to pick his brain about getting into the acting business for a fellow friend of mine. To be honest, it was me trying to hook him up with a very attractive girl in hopes that I would score brownie points with her. He didn't respond. Which was very telling. Since, good or bad, he'd always respond. The last time I saw him, I was on location scout with a fellow friend to shoot a very dark story dealing with a man who is being led to his final destination and having a conversation with death. I dropped from the project, but watched the final cut of the short film. Looking back, this is one of the saddest scene I can imagine now. He was working out demons. And it wasn't at a point where I could help him. He NEVER once showed anger. He NEVER raised his voice. He NEVER exhibited anger. I've NEVER seen him do drugs. Drink. Or as much as smoke a cigarette. This is so confusing to me other than he finally succumbed to the map of his life.

Of those who've read my blog, you realize that I bitch, moan and whine about my addictions. It dawned on me that maybe a true addict doesn't realize that they need help. That it's a person who has gone beyond wanting people to help them. That reaching out to anyone would be weakness.

I am not even going to begin to tell you the psychiatry behind this. I'm so unbelievably sad right now. Because I just remember the last conversation we had. Which was...he asked me how my life was going. And he shared his joy of being a father. Yes...Johnny is a father. Before he was an actor, he was someone's father. The joy he exude was priceless. He had hope. He had a new life. And we all wished him the best.

I wish...I just wish he could've shared his true pain. I shouldn't have outlived him. And to read this in the news...you can't imagine the pain and shock this feels like. Johnny just gave too much to the world. And the world seemed to want more.

Ride well, my friend.

The Grudge

My eldest sister carries grudges. Not just any grudge. We're talking years. And she's openly proud that she can dismiss people out of her life forever, if need be. I don't wanna be like that.

I think a lot of us consider grudges sort of childish. Growing up in a tough poor neighborhood, we dealt with a lot of racism. I fought every day with black kids at my school. Getting beaten on a regular basis by ANY ethnicity could forge into your brain a sense of dread of that particular race. I, myself, have certain prejudices that come with having fought my way through 2nd grade (before my parents had had enough and moved us to the suburbs). Sometimes I catch myself with my anger towards the black race. It's ridiculous since one of my closest friends out here is a black guy. In fact, the only one I have had contact with on a regular basis, which INCLUDES even my closest high school friends. Do I carry a grudge against blacks. I'm not sure. I think there is a type that just gets under my skin. The type that walks around with a chip on their shoulder and can't let things go. Specially because American history has been so ruthless to blacks. I feel a level of empathy for their cause. Oppression and the underdog will always be the side to root for, in my case. Since I've always been the underdog.

The other day, at a bar, I got into an altercation with a black guy. Total thug. Mouthy. Loud and obnoxious (kinda like yours truly). But this guy called me out and wanted to box me outside the bar. I declined. I'm much too old with too much responsibility to deal with jail time. And in these cases NO ONE wins. Afterwards, I extended my friendship to him. He waved me off. Then proceeded to pretend like I didn't even exist as I was attempting a friendship. As I was raised to do. If you can't be the enemy you might as well be incahoots. He couldn't drop the fact that we'd had an argument. His pride was injured. As was mine. But I refuse to let those things get in the way of humanity. Not he. He made it a point to make it clear we weren't going to be sharing football tales anytime soon. And you know what?...at first I was pissed and wanted to take him up on the fight offer afterall. But then I realize, this is a guy who will (unless he sees the errors of his ways) be an angry guy who lets him emotions guide his intellect. In the world that we live in common sense is the more productive angle. Although, we run on knee jerk reactions.

I was incensed that he didn't want my friendship. Which is fine. He can go away angry and share an opinion about me or my whole race in general, since it is the first thing we see. But he has to live with that. He has to go home with this much built up anger and deal with his wife and kids. Me, I choose to forgive him. Does that make me a better person? No, it just makes it okay for me to move on and let his life go in whatever direction that deep seeded anger will take him. Statistically...probably not in a positive incline.

Which brings me back to my eldest sister. I don't think she's a racist. But she's experienced things through the late 1970s that probably etched in her mind her disgust for the black community. Out here in Los Angeles, blacks are so diverse, you can't make blanket statements as she's made in Cincinnati. There, it's a culture of attitude. From looking on the outside in now, I can see how Cincy police have been laying it hard on the black culture for so long. Blacks, in that community, seem to have a sense of resentment to any other race that has gotten beyond the long arm of the law. Historically speaking, blacks have never gotten a fair shake in that city. AND there's no plan to even think about changing certain mindsets. And that resentment continues to seethe. Out of all American cities, a race riot (another one) in that town is imminent. Just a matter of time.

Blacks have the same grudges my sister has. They'll be really polite (as my sister will be) but deep down inside, they're hateful and resentful and petty. Which is why I don't feel she's had upward mobility in life. Grudges and resentment stunt your emotional growth.

My sister still refuses to deal with my Dad's old business partner's family. His partner died years ago, and she refused to go to his funeral. Because she felt slighted one time, a long time ago. It wasn't so much she should've gone to respect our parent's wishes. It was that it was just the human thing to do. And, if anything, bury your anger and disgust with the person. I mean, to me...I'd want to go just to make sure the cock knocker was dead. But even that would lay to rest resentment. She choose to make a stand (to whom, I have no idea). Give them an ol' snoot of her absence. As if people would even notice. She just didn't want to bother.

I seriously have to get off this path myself. And I'm making an effort. Because I really envy the people who have just let bygones by bygones and can live happily ever after. I worry my sister will build up such a stone of hate or resentment that she passes away old and angry.

So my message to everyone who lives with this, learn to forgive and forget. Don't let that base emotion contour your life into something worse. The best thing to do is to live life to the fullest with as little possible pain as possible. I think it's worth it.

Plenty Of Fish

Hey friends,
Just waiting at your local Starbucks for a date I set up with someone I met on a site called "Plenty Of Fish". It's been around for a while, so a lot of you will know their deal. Some people call it plenty of flakes or plenty of fatties. I'm not sure what to expect. It's a strange thing. Online dating.

I remember creating a profile a few years back. Very few responses. My sister once told me that the whole ordeal is a numbers thing. The more you send out the more response you may get. Duh!

Well, that may sound obvious, and maybe I wasn't really absorbing what she was saying. But she didn't mean send out ten and you get eight back. She was thinking hundreds. I mean, selective carpet bombing. AND to boot, you have to know your type. I really don't know what my type is. I've gone out with a variety. I think if she said "yes" that's my type. That's right. The one who accepted is obviously my type. You would think at 37 one would know their type by now. But I'm not sure. I'd just like someone who isn't annoying and is pleasant to look at. It's not a tall order, but in Los Angeles it may as well be a needle and a haystack.

That reminds me, this city is not big...per se. But...and big but...WE are really spread out. What that means is that in order to find someone and have any hope of spending any time with them, you have to more or less live within a five mile radius. Otherwise, the aggravation may not be worth the trouble.

So far, my luck on the site has been hit or miss. I've dropped notes on women I thought would make a connection. No response. I've attempted a chat. Shot down. Rejection online is slightly better. I mean, marginally. I think it is easier simply because you don't see their expression as they click past your profile. I can only imagine a level of disgust, but that's only in my mind.

So off I go to meet up with Ange. Not sure who spells their name like that. Hope it's not a guy messing with me. Which seems to happen. Or a really old lady. Which I'm told also happens. We can only cast that line into the ocean.

Dating For 37 year olds

Hey friends,
When I was a kid I remember seeing all these older muscle building dudes (like Jack Lalanne) close to 50 and still be yoked. Not that I ever wanted to be THAT tortuous to myself. But I thought that just looking and feeling good at that age would be a goal in itself. Not that I'd ever want to be a gym rat or fitness fanatic. But I'm starting to be very cautious about the next era of my life. Here I am at 37 years:

I realize once people live a certain age, they are suppose to look a certain way. As an Asian man, it's difficult to see what others see since we're known to never age. I think that comes from having very oily skin though. It seems it's also sometimes very difficult to figure out some dark skinned Italians as well. Then one night you look in the mirror and can't believe what you see.

For me the salt-and-pepper sideburns are definitely from my mother. Her gray is very distinguished but she spends time dying it. I'm shocked, since she is married. EXACTLY who is she trying to impress? And I know my pop is too lazy to go looking for anyone else at this point.

Suffice it to say, I think we all have a tendency to want to hold onto youth. Because youth is alive. Youth is beauty. Youth gets attention. And youth is hopeful.

I see the aging process now. I see bags under the eyes. My face is starting to sag a bit. I may have been able to extend this a bit, had I not tapped into alcoholism. But...I think most people can see the "fun" I've had.

I've recently joined a dating site (as I've mentioned in previous post). And a lot of women seem lie about their age. Yes, I fall under the same judgmental category as most people. But if I were to pick out my contemporaries, I'd see women closer to their 40's and 50's. They want the young hotties to pick them out of the litter. A lot seem to be really anti-social misfits begging to want approval. Others...I think boredom. While others, re-living something that they missed out the first time around because they were too afraid to go out there and figure it out (which I fall into).

I think a lot of women past their 30's on these dating sites also lived past their party prime and now...trying to hold on to something that passed them by. Case in point, a guy had posted a very smoking hot photo of a dude on the site. It wasn't his photo, his mailbox was blown up by women. Yes, that also happens to smoking hot women as well, but here's the caveat...it happens to EVERY woman on dating sites.

I think most people like to think women aren't as shallow as men in the "looks department" but that's not true. Think of it like this, women spend a fortune on makeup, jewelry, shoes, sometimes plastic surgery, perfume, clothes etc...all in efforts to look good for men, but more importantly to impress other women with how well she is put together. She knows women talk to other women. And they want to give men whiplash. That being the case, what makes you think she doesn't hold you in the same regard?

And I've mentioned this before, social media makes it so that not only her friends are going to comment and praise or criticize you, a gazillion people as well. So what you end up having is women who are bombarded with quick messages (even overweight unattractive ones, out of the hope that this is much easier) and with them having the pick of our male litter. And guess what fellas, if you aren't all that, she'd rather take her chances in public. Or the hottest guy online.

Think about it, yes, we guys really like beautiful Playboy models. And we really dig porno (I mean, 3 minutes at a time), BUT what we come to being acceptable...well we really aren't that discriminating. Wanna know why? Because even if we got lousy pussy, we'd still brag to our friends. Otherwise, a woman is SO paralyzed with fear that her friends would rag on her incessantly with psychological pain, her ego wouldn't be able to stand the onslaught. I've witnessed it first hand.

So dating at 37 as a male is very daunting in the new era of social media (sorry to reiterate if you've read my past blog). I'm not bitter about it. I find my chances better in reality anyway. It's just something to consider as you age (or about to age) towards your 40's. You shouldn't be bitter either. It's an adventure to be sure.

Getting The Six Pack Back

So I shed a lot of doughy-ness recently.

From what I can gather, been eating more vegetables and meat. I start the morning off with a whey protein shake. About 16 ounces.

And later in the afternoon I'll take some steak and steamed vegetables. They got these steam bags at the grocery store that are so great and convenient. At night, I sometimes go to a ramen place. I realize the noodles and salt aren't necessarily a good thing, but I take dandelion root now and drink a lot of water. I figure it gets expunged by the next day. I can't stop eating ramen.

As far as working out, I've been doing more leg presses. In between, I'll sprint in place for 30 seconds and do another set of leg presses. I end most workouts with the stairclimber. Maybe for 15 minutes. I use a resistance band and stretch while I'm on the machine. I call this the "slave walk" since I wrap the bands around my shoulders and draw the cables underneath in my palms, that replicates what I think a person in chains would walk. I feel the pull in shoulders and chest. It really amps up the stair workout.

Stair climbing machines are great. The really work the core. I can feel a constant pull at my abs. I think the imbalance also causes even more of a workout.

I still do weights for upper body. But not as much weight as I use to do. I see guys at the gym doing two 45lbs plates on the bench, and remember when that was a starting place for me. I'm kinda glad I don't do that anymore since my shoulder blades were in constant pain. Which is not good.

I do a lot of what you see in P90x too. I don't overdo it like them, since I don't want to shed all muscle. My goal isn't weight loss as much as it's to get that shrink wrapped muscle. Still gotta look into quitting the booze. That's the one thing the liver is painfully holding on to. As well as my midsection.

All in all, I can see definition again in my abs. And that just is more encouragement to keep doing what I've been doing.

If I were to say what exercise that cuts the abs the quickest, I'd go with the leg press/squats. I can really feel the resistance.