- Joined
- Dec 18, 2013
- Messages
- 211
Good evening, gents—
This is more of a side note post, but I think there are a few interesting points worth pondering here.
First, because I have reinvigorated my commitment to get back into night game, I coincidentally ended up running into Ken Hai, trainer of the Peking Acrobats, and his son Steve while out at my favorite pickup bar. There I was, sitting solo (as usual) in an almost empty bar, when I suddenly heard these two Asian guys talking about having to work with an orchestra… I chimed in because I realized I was about to rehearse and perform with them over the next three days!
Having gotten socially warmed up on some very interesting conversation with Steve, who is the same exact age as me (36), two flight attendants from North Carolina (who are only in town for one night) entered the scene mere moments after Steve and his father parted for the night. One of them ended up working her way over to the seat next to me and eventually took her place on my lap. She was a very short, super cute, Greek-blooded brunette. Not much later, she asked me where I lived as she nestled into me. I could have written this up as an FR, and it really should have been a lay, but suffice it to say she seemed to lose attraction once she realized I was out alone (apparently, she had assumed I was with other people—guess that's still props for looking like a social guy).
Anyhow, back to the Peking Acrobats. The next night (right after our late evening dress rehearsal), I headed back out on my own again, and moments after I got there, the whole male crew of the acrobats showed up this time with Steve and Ken, and they asked me if they could still get a table. Luckily since I know pretty much everyone who works there, I helped hook them up with some late dinner downstairs, and we all sat together for drinks and some good food. Steve and I got to share some deeper life stories about our respective mentors (he'd been in a similarly abusive situation as I have with my former violin teacher—his was wrestling).
Also, they were all rather impressed being able to see that I clearly worked out. Although I'm obviously not nearly as flexible, agile, or accurate, it was genuinely cool to be able to sport a physique similar to most of them and earn respect from such amazing athletes for my ability to stay in great shape, being a non-athlete myself.
This brings me to the first point I want to make with this post: thanks to my aggressive attitude toward pushing myself into nightlife, I got the rare chance to connect socially with an amazing bunch of rare people. This is really a hat tip to what I have learned being here at GC.
Now, little did I know just how insanely capable this group of acrobats really are. The following link is a tidbit of video featuring a freakishly daredevil chair act I was able to catch with my phone (as the orchestra did not have to play that number). Bear in mind that there are a total of six chairs, the bottom one sitting atop the mouths of four wine bottles…
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=c5a8bcoANdw
If you've seen Ocean's Eleven, this is that guy from the movie.
Incidentally, he was also a little giddy Thursday night over some girl who had smiled at him from the bar, but he did nothing about it…
…which got me to thinking (unless I have misread the situation): how sad a reality it is that a man with that rare a capability live in a scarcity mentality with women…
It reminded me of myself before I put down my obsession with violin practice to go get out. The fact is, it's not so simple to say one can do both: for him to be able to keep his mind so steady that he can perform like that, he probably has to avoid the drama that comes with women.
My deeper question is: would any of you give up abundance with women in exchange for ability as rare as that? Can ambition for success (like Qin Shaobo's chair act) be reconciled with ambition for women?
The irony is that while I feel like an insect compared to him (my violin playing is not on a level relative to his acrobatics), I also feel sad for his isolation—the same isolation I used to put myself through. Steve and I talked much about this topic because he went through it too before finally breaking himself away as well. He doesn't perform anymore, but rather he helps manage the group, including escorting them through social venues.
Where do you all think the meaning of masculinity is in all of this? Could it be more or less masculine to give up women in pursuit of a lifetime mastery like this?
Just a little food for thought,
-M
This is more of a side note post, but I think there are a few interesting points worth pondering here.
First, because I have reinvigorated my commitment to get back into night game, I coincidentally ended up running into Ken Hai, trainer of the Peking Acrobats, and his son Steve while out at my favorite pickup bar. There I was, sitting solo (as usual) in an almost empty bar, when I suddenly heard these two Asian guys talking about having to work with an orchestra… I chimed in because I realized I was about to rehearse and perform with them over the next three days!
Having gotten socially warmed up on some very interesting conversation with Steve, who is the same exact age as me (36), two flight attendants from North Carolina (who are only in town for one night) entered the scene mere moments after Steve and his father parted for the night. One of them ended up working her way over to the seat next to me and eventually took her place on my lap. She was a very short, super cute, Greek-blooded brunette. Not much later, she asked me where I lived as she nestled into me. I could have written this up as an FR, and it really should have been a lay, but suffice it to say she seemed to lose attraction once she realized I was out alone (apparently, she had assumed I was with other people—guess that's still props for looking like a social guy).
Anyhow, back to the Peking Acrobats. The next night (right after our late evening dress rehearsal), I headed back out on my own again, and moments after I got there, the whole male crew of the acrobats showed up this time with Steve and Ken, and they asked me if they could still get a table. Luckily since I know pretty much everyone who works there, I helped hook them up with some late dinner downstairs, and we all sat together for drinks and some good food. Steve and I got to share some deeper life stories about our respective mentors (he'd been in a similarly abusive situation as I have with my former violin teacher—his was wrestling).
Also, they were all rather impressed being able to see that I clearly worked out. Although I'm obviously not nearly as flexible, agile, or accurate, it was genuinely cool to be able to sport a physique similar to most of them and earn respect from such amazing athletes for my ability to stay in great shape, being a non-athlete myself.
This brings me to the first point I want to make with this post: thanks to my aggressive attitude toward pushing myself into nightlife, I got the rare chance to connect socially with an amazing bunch of rare people. This is really a hat tip to what I have learned being here at GC.
Now, little did I know just how insanely capable this group of acrobats really are. The following link is a tidbit of video featuring a freakishly daredevil chair act I was able to catch with my phone (as the orchestra did not have to play that number). Bear in mind that there are a total of six chairs, the bottom one sitting atop the mouths of four wine bottles…
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=c5a8bcoANdw
If you've seen Ocean's Eleven, this is that guy from the movie.
Incidentally, he was also a little giddy Thursday night over some girl who had smiled at him from the bar, but he did nothing about it…
…which got me to thinking (unless I have misread the situation): how sad a reality it is that a man with that rare a capability live in a scarcity mentality with women…
It reminded me of myself before I put down my obsession with violin practice to go get out. The fact is, it's not so simple to say one can do both: for him to be able to keep his mind so steady that he can perform like that, he probably has to avoid the drama that comes with women.
My deeper question is: would any of you give up abundance with women in exchange for ability as rare as that? Can ambition for success (like Qin Shaobo's chair act) be reconciled with ambition for women?
The irony is that while I feel like an insect compared to him (my violin playing is not on a level relative to his acrobatics), I also feel sad for his isolation—the same isolation I used to put myself through. Steve and I talked much about this topic because he went through it too before finally breaking himself away as well. He doesn't perform anymore, but rather he helps manage the group, including escorting them through social venues.
Where do you all think the meaning of masculinity is in all of this? Could it be more or less masculine to give up women in pursuit of a lifetime mastery like this?
Just a little food for thought,
-M
