K

In previous New Year’s Eves, I’ve frequented a top 3-10 list usually involving films I’ve seen in the last 12 months.  It’s unfortunate that this year has provided me significantly lesser time to visit the cinemas, and I am reluctant to put together my own favorites based on the very little choices I have.

Instead I took an alternate route for my year-end list for 2017.  But first, I needed a letter, any letter, and relied on a random contact on my phone to provide me with such.  Let me send out a big thank you to one of my longest tenured friend and brother, Greg Gilvison, for providing with the letter K.

I will now present you a Top 5 list of my favorite films, starting with the eccentric 11th letter of the alphabet:

5. Kindergarten Cop (1990) starring California’s former Governor Arnold Schwarzenegger.  Directed by Ivan Reitman.

Honestly, the only reason this movie makes the list are for two of Arnold’s lines – “We are going to play a wonderful game called who is your daddy, and what does he do?” and “It’s not a tumor!”  Both lines in the same scene, no more than 13 seconds apart.

4. Kill Bill Vol. 1 + 2 (2003) starring Uma Thurman, Lucy Liu, Daryl Hannah, Vivica A. Fox, David Carradine, martial arts genre legend Gordon Liu, and many of Quentin Tarantino’s usual suspects.  Directed by Quentin Tarantino.

One upon a time, Kill Bill actually ranked into my own personal Top 5 list of all time.  But, as time goes on and tastes continue to evolve, it barely cracks my Top 5 list that start with the letter K.  This doesn’t signify drop in quality; I can watch Kill Bill vol. 1 – 2 right now and still be just as entertained as my first viewing.  Tarantino continues to prove that he is like wine, and his films after his kung fu revenge saga (Inglorious Basterds, Django Unchained) were simply just better.

Tarantino and I have this in common – we are huge fans of the martial arts genre – everything from Shaw Bros, Jackie Chan, and Akira Kurosawa films.  KB was everything about his love affair with the genre and more, combining great sets, action pieces, amazing cinematography and unforgettable dialogue (see: Carradine’s Superman speech) into his traditional nonlinear storytelling.

3. Kingsman: The Secret Service (2014) starring Colin Firth, Taron Egerton, Samuel L. Jackson, and Mark Strong.  Directed by Matthew Vaughn.

I’m a sucker for highly stylized, action spy thrillers, and this one combines humor, social commentary, and fun performances from those involved.  The scene with Colin Firth vs. a church full of racists to Lynyrd Skynyrd’s Free Bird is – while beyond violent – worth the price of admission alone.

2. The Karate Kid part I (1984) starring Ralph Macchio and Pat Morita.  Directed by John G. Avildsen.

Kid moves to new city.
Kid gets bullied.
Kid meets karate master.
Karate master makes kid paint the fence, sand the deck, and wax the cars (but really he was teaching him the basics of karate).
Kid enters karate tournament.
Kid beats bullies in tournament.
Kid gets the girl.

Seriously, that’s the story of my life… okay everything except for ‘kid meets karate master’ and after.

1. A Knight’s Tale (2001) starring (gone way too soon) Heath Ledger, Shanynn Sossamon, Alan Tudyk, and Paul Bettany.  Directed by Brian Helgeland.

Truth be told, I’m not the biggest fan of any flick done in the medieval time period (this might explain why I rip apart Lord of the Rings and have avoided Game of Thrones).  It was just never my cup of tea.  Maybe I hated the idea of living in the woods and having a short lifespan because you forgot to wear your metal sweater vest one day and got stabbed in the back.  Or you died because you sunk in the lake trying to swim in your chain-linked pants.  Those are just the worst ways to go, man.

However, A Knight’s Tale was interpreted with such a great modern twist, and done so well that you even accepted Ledger’s out-of-place Australian accent.  From the first minute to last, this is just a blast.  And is there a better hype man than Paul Bettany in the history of film?  I’ll wait.

Actually, I’ll save you the time.  The answer is no.

Notable K films that didn’t make the Top 5 – Kick-Ass (2010), Knockaround Guys (2001), and Kate and Leopold (2001).  What?  I’m a sucker for time travel.

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Unsweetened

I’ve recently taken some time to take a step back to view my year to date and I’ve convinced myself that the biggest change in my life is that, I have diabetes.

If you’re close to me, and had no idea about this news, let me alleviate some of that shock in the aforementioned statement – more accurately, I have willingly inherited type 2 diabetes.  Here’s what I mean by that –

In mid February of this year, a good friend of mine, RQ, admitted to me that he has been diagnosed with type 2 diabetes.  I’m versed enough to understand that it’s more than eliminating soda pop from your diet.  Here’s what I got –

When we eat our bodies break down foods and turn them into glucose and other nutrients used to fuel bodily functions.  After a meal, our levels of glucose rise, which then triggers the pancreas to produce insulin (a hormone) which unlocks the doors for glucose to be released from the blood.

When someone has diabetes, either their body can’t produce insulin, or the body doesn’t properly respond to insulin.  This is a problem, because insulin is what allows glucose into the cells.  If glucose can’t get into the cells, that means glucose stays in the bloodstream, causing abnormally high sugar levels.  High sugar levels can lead to even more health problems; the snowball effect is not a desirable one here.

Let’s look at that differently with slight shift of the eye, layman’s terms on another level, if you will.  We’ll remix the following:

Glucose is now Joy.

Pancreas is the Landlord.

Insulin is named Keys.

Blood will be called Prison.

And cells will be me, you, your mama, and your cousin, too.

When we eat our bodies break down foods and turn them into Joy.  After a meal, our levels of Joy rise, which then triggers the Landlord to produce keys which unlocks the doors for Joy to be released from Prison.

When someone has diabetes, either their body can’t produce keys, or the body doesn’t properly respond to keys (like a wrong key unable to unlock a door).  This is a problem, because keys allow Joy into me, you, your mama, and your cousin, too.  If Joy can’t get into me, you, your mama, and your cousin too, this means Joy stays in Prison, causing a lot of unhappiness all around.  And a lot of unhappiness leads to me, you, your mama, and your cousin to have a laundry list of other health problems.

Are we good on understanding diabetes?  This is where you nod.

At the time I accepted this news with empathy and carefulness.  I’m not a doctor, and while I may have some idea on how to help, I hadn’t a clue where to start.  This is all I knew – that RQ was told to take insulin shots, eat less of the bad stuff and more of the right stuff, and to increase his physical activity.  Emphasis on increase physical activity.

For the first two thirds of my life, I lived a very unhealthy life.  I ate all the bad stuff too often in a day.  I was beyond obese, and if I continued this path I would have died a very young man.  From my own experience I understand firsthand how intimidating it is to make that first step into fitness – not just a gym – fitness.  Whether it’s on a treadmill next to people faster than you or even at home in the privacy of your living room, fitness is absolutely terrifying and judgmental, and it will tear you in pieces until you reach some level of comfort under your own skin.

In the same conversation RQ broke his diagnosis to me, he also shared that he’s already been doing something about it – taking a group class at a nearby studio where he works.  At the time he’s three-four weeks into this class.  I fully grasped how much courage that took, needless to say I couldn’t have been more proud of the guy.  But I knew he needed, he wanted more.  While one workout a week is a start, the solution to this needs more horsepower.

For work, this is what I do, again layman’s terms – I look at a lot of data and oversee software configurations for my company.  My company manages health and fitness centers for other companies and community centers that have their own gym within their work campus.  In other words – in regards to RQ – I can get him any gym membership he wants.  Contrary to popular belief, I’m not one to initially push people in gyms.  What I’ve learned throughout the years is that, if anyone is going to stick around in a gym for longer than the first three weeks of January, they’re going to need to push themselves in first (as a business, the trick is to keep them from leaving, but that’s another story).

And that’s exactly what RQ did – he pushed himself in an awesome studio (The Corner Studio) in San Francisco’s Potrero Hill neighborhood.  He’s gotten his feet wet, now it’s time for the deep end, and this is where I was able to give it another nudge – I told him exactly what I said earlier, “you pick whatever gym you want, and I’ll get you in there.”

“But I don’t know how to use the machines, I wouldn’t know what to do,” he replied.

“Then I’ll work out with you.  I’ll take that studio class with you, too.”

“That class is too easy for you.  Don’t you work out hard?  I can’t do your workouts.”

“We’ll modify.  Every work out is hard, don’t ever believe otherwise.  If you’re willing to put in an hour into something that a large majority won’t do, then it’s never going to be easy.  We’ll get this done.”

Since then, RQ has gradually increased his workout count anywhere between 2-6 days a week, and anyone is putting in that amount of work, results are expected.  This is the fun part.  Here’s what happened since –

When one is diabetic, their blood sugar level is 7.5+.

In February 2017, RQ’s blood sugar level was 10.3.

Three months after training, RQ’s blood sugar level dropped down to 8.0.

Five months after training, his blood sugar level dropped again to 7.8.

Seven months after training, his blood sugar level dropped again to 7.1.

Blood sugar levels between 4.0 – 6.5 are considered normal.

To reiterate – I’m not a doctor.  But I think I can confidently tell you that those trends are pretty fucking good.  Most mornings I would receive a text from RQ, a photo of his daily glucose readings measured in mg/DL, and when using this method of measurement 70-130 is considered good.  RQ began to hit between those marks pretty much every day.  I accepted this as my own levels without question nor hesitation – his levels were my levels, his training is my training, his diet is my diet, and all the good and the bad and everything in between was mine too.  This what I allowed myself to train for.  No longer chasing PRs on lifts.  No longer the focus on the amount of miles logged in or the minutes per each mile.  No longer chasing 200+ revolutions on a jump rope in a minute.  No longer driving down that needle on the weight scale.

I’m hell bent on getting to that 6.5 blood sugar level.

His texts then follow up with words of appreciation for the training, things like and not limited to “your methods/strategies are working, you deserve great moments, any ex-girlfriend of yours should have never left you,” and this one being the most used, “may good karma reward you back.”

Karma.  Hmm.

First of all, no ex-girlfriend of mine can have me back.  Secondly, yes I do believe in karma, don’t let that hmm throw you off.  It’s like the hippie cousin of Newton’s 3rd Law that says for every action there is a reaction, yeah?  Newton was pretty good at science.  Newton was a good guy.

And that’s the key to good karma isn’t it?  It’s returned to good people.  And I’ll be the first to tell you I am far from a good man.  But for some strange reason I’ve been lucked with knowing some real great people.  RQ is one of them, one of the greatest guys I’ve ever met.  And another great guy I knew was our friend AJ.

RQ, AJ, and I hung out in our college days.  We were good friends, enjoyed a lot of good times and laughs.  From the early 2010’s and on, AJ was a severely dedicated marathoner and triathlete, fighting for his own young daughter who was battling cancer.  He co-founded the organization Team Cancer Sucks that helps raise funds for cancer patients.   In the worst of ironies, he was diagnosed with his own cancer, the very damn thing he was fighting against for his daughter.  She won that battle, she is alive, healthy and well.  But AJ is no longer with us after losing his life to cancer in 2015.  AJ was a damn great man.

AJ had cancer.  RQ has diabetes.  I have… nothing.  I shouldn’t be without health conditions.  Karma, life, whatever is responsible here is 0/3 – AJ didn’t deserve cancer.  RQ doesn’t deserve diabetes.  And I don’t deserve nothing.

I can admit, maybe the reason I help RQ is in part of trying to avenge our friend AJ.  Maybe this is my anger at karma for not allowing me to carry the worst of situations.  Maybe I drive myself through the concrete with work, training, and everything else in my world to the complete and utter brink of exhaustion because deep down I know I shouldn’t be so lucky.

Maybe, just maybe, I’m trying to be like AJ, where he seemingly took the cancer that plagued his daughter and took it as his own to deal with.

I don’t know, maybe it’s a little bit of everything.  Maybe I’m overthinking it all, and I loathe it when I overthink.  Regardless, my focus is unwavering – I’m all in for breaking through 6.5.

This is for RQ, and this is for AJ.  Straight up, no sugar added.

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Savages

I miss being chased by gang bangers.  Here's why:

My neighborhood has a large population of raccoons.   I can't stand them, they're terrible, and psychotic, and mean.  I used to go for night runs.  I don't anymore, because I like my body without bites and/or slashes.  A gang banger would ask for my shoes, and my cash, and my $1.25 french fries I bought from a nearby Vietnamese restaurant (that was not a typo, they sold American donuts, too).

A gang banger would not chase me because he wanted to eat me.   He wanted to eat my $1.25 french fries that I paid for, sure, but not me, me.   A good day is any day you do not get eaten alive, and that's cool.

Raccoons have chased me down streets while I carried thousands of dollars of camera equipment (this, by the way, is still by far my best sprint of my life).  Did they truly want my camera, or my foot?  Do even know how get into focus, and increase ISO?

The day a raccoon takes a fantastic photo with a tilt-shift lens will be the same day a wild raccoon has my severed left foot attached to their keys as their greatest, proven choice of luck.

They've even hopped over fences, knowing I've just arrived home.  With endless patience they'd stalk from their corner, seemingly fiddling their thumbs in perfect rhythm as they dream about sinking their teeth into my face.  Raccoons do not want my gym bag.  Raccoons do not want my computer.   Raccoons do not want my shoes.  Raccoons do not want my clean laundry.  Raccoons do not want my 24 rolls of toilet paper.

Raccoons want to eat me, they have made this life goal of theirs increasingly well-known to me for years.  And that's not cool.

Take my shirt, Mr. Gang Banger, but not my eyes.   I miss that.  I miss being 11 years-old and weighing 168 pounds and walking home half-naked.   This is so much more delightful than dealing with raccoons.

And here's what makes a trilogy – there's now a rapidly growing coyote problem in my area.  Is this worse?  Most would say yes.  I disagree.  I actually see this as a good thing, in a sense where I'm hoping for "the enemy of my enemy is my friend" type of scenario.

It would be like, I'm Batman.

And raccoon is Bane.

And coyote is Catwoman.

They are both my enemies, but this time Bane has gone too far.

And Catwoman and I agree that we have to work together to take out Bane out once and for all.

So I Googled "how to befriend a coyote" the other night, and here are the results:

1. Prevent close encounters with a coyote in the first place.

2. Never feed a coyote or try to tame it.

3. never walk towards a coyote – give them space.

Guys, I'm screwed.

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‪As San Francisco Giants fans, we all felt that undeniable potential in those ’08-’09 seasons like soft, distant whispers that had enough legs to run into our baseball dreams.  It was the sequel to the 80’s movement of “You Gotta Like These Kids,” but heavier on the pitching side with the likes of Matt Cain, Tim Lincecum, Jonathan Sanchez, Brian Wilson, and Madison Bumgarner.  Then in ’10 they did something that no Giants team in San Francisco could ever do – win a World Series.

Mays, McCovey, Cepeda, Marichal, Perry couldn’t do it.

Clark, Williams, Thompson, Mitchell couldn’t do it.

Bonds, Kent, Snow, Aurilia, Nen couldn’t do it.

Then a bunch of kids mixed with a few scrappy veterans that no one in the world gave a chance actually pulled it off.  As the marketing engine of that season stated – it was magic inside.

Those early whispers years prior became a loud reality, emphatically putting San Francisco’s stamp on baseball that they were at the top of the mountain and weren’t going anywhere.  All of a sudden the Giants were feared; they owned the yard and had a chance to do so for a 5-6 year window.  Maybe even more.

Still against all odds and predictions, the Giants won two more in ’12 and ’14, creating a baseball dynasty.  Three in five years, and competed in ’16 in the playoffs.  What a time to be alive, right?

Two and a half months into ’17 – dead last with the deepest hole to dig out of in recent memory and no apparent hope in sight – it sadly looks and feels like this window is now all but closed.

‪And so, here comes the what could likely be a fire sale and the reset button. Shake things up, even greater than last season, and maybe even rattle the cages.  Posey, Bumgarner, Crawford, Panik, Bochy, and Righetti should remain in the untouchable section (at least from my own opinion).  And if I have a Giants uniform on that doesn’t have those names stitched on my back – I probably wouldn’t get too comfortable at this point.‬

‘San Francisco Giants’ will remain on the front and the sleeves, but the changes in names and numbers on the back will always rip your heart out.  Yet, baseball remains a beautiful thing, even when you truly understand and accept that heartbreak is inevitable.

For those who care for the game and this team, I sincerely hope you enjoyed this era of Giants Baseball as much as I did.  Baseball will continue to evolve – that is its right.

And ours?  We have a right to evolve with it, and we have a right to share and pass on the stories it created and left for us.

Stories of a Freak.  A Beard.   A Horse.  A Phenom.  A baseball god dressed as a catcher.  A Genius.   A Giraffe.  A Panda.  A Gazelle.  A Boss.   A Shark.  A White Shark.  A Hunter.  An Angel.   A band of misfits.  A collection of champions.

Giants.

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