Be a man!

Last night I saw possibly the most inspiring hour of television I've ever seen. It's a show called "Only in America" on Discovery Times channel. This journalist, Charlie LeDuff, goes out and explores weird little corners of Americana. He did a session a while ago on Burning Man, and it was decent – about as good as you can expect on national TV. He seemed to "get it".

But last night's episode was just amazing. It's called "Fight Club". Charlie investigates a motorcycle gang/men's club in Oakland called the East Bay Rats. They don't seem to deal drugs or shoot rivals; they don't seem to be a direct threat to society. They just hang out together, look out for each other, throw parties, and fight. They throw semi-regular fight parties where anyone who wants to can climb in the ring with gloves and mouthpiece and duke it out until it's over – until one fighter can't or won't get up and keep going. They show men fighting men, women fighting women. Charlie, decides to challenge the baddest mofo of all for the cameras, and proceeds to learn more about the members, the club, and a little about fighting.

When he interviews the members, many of the guys tell how they didn't fit in with general society until they found this brotherhood. Most of the guys have interesting backgrounds, these are pretty intelligent guys. The most striking thing to me is, each one of them seems to stand in a deep personal integrity and each one of them had absolute confidence in every other member of the club. "These are my brothers and they won't let me down."

One individual in particular stands out. This guy runs a motorcycle shop that seems to serve mostly Rats. He's a big dude, shaved head and beard. He's one tough hombre. If he took your beer in a bar, you'd probably let him keep it. You might even buy him another one, just in case. He tells about how, before he met the Rats, he got stomped by a bunch of other guys and his friends didn't wade in to help. It would have been two-to-one against if they had, and his guys just stood down. Our man took a severe beating, cracked skull, cheeks smashed in. He lived in a shadowy world of post-traumatic stress for a few years. Then he met the Rats. He knows that the Rats would back up a buddy at two-to-one against, ten-to-one against, whatever. Tears came to his eyes telling his story.

And that gets us near the core ethos, the Man Ethos, at the heart of this story. The Man Ethos is about standing your ground regardless. If you're going to take a beating for standing your ground, you take your beating. They say things like "Pain is temporary, pride is forever." There's no shame in getting beat, there's only shame in giving up.

Our man Charlie faces up to this by challenging the baddest guy in the club. To become a full member of the Rats, you have to fight them. Lots of them. At once. This guy, Big Mike Jackson fought nine Rats for half an hour before they were able to beat him down. It's a record. You can't win in these fights, you're not supposed to be able to. You just have to fight until you can't fight anymore. Big Mike weighs 320 pounds. Big Mike wears a tee shirt that says "I like you. I'll kill you last."

Charlie figures, if he fights someone his size, the best he can do is win and just be another guy. If he fights Big Mike, it's almost impossible for him to win, but if he stands his ground he's a Man.

So Charlie talks to other fighters, gets some coaching, works out. He talks to a doctor in the neuroscience department at UCLA medical center about brain damage and what happens when you're knocked out. Finally the day arrives, and he shows up at the Rats' clubhouse in the (pardon the expression) faggiest outfit I think I've ever seen worn by any man outside of the world of figure skating. (Seriously, if somebody came to a party of mine in that Errol Flynn looking shirt with the poofy sleeves, the lace-up front and the frills? And that scarf tied around his neck? I'd kick his ass. It took a whole other type of courage to walk into that club full of hairy-scary nasty-grimys in that outfit.) But the distraction of the clothing ends when he changes into his fight clothes. And then he climbs in the ring with Big Mike.

Maybe Big Mike has been coasting on his rep for awhile. Maybe he doesn't want to hurt this guy on national TV. Maybe he underestimates him. However it happens, skinny Charlie LeDuff actually sticks him pretty good once. But it's not anything close to a contest. Charlie gets knocked down a couple of times, but he keeps getting up and lasts a whole round. In the second round he takes a kidney punch and staggers to his feet but can't go on. He retires with his pride intact. He's a Man.

At the end of the show, I realize: That's what I need in my life. I need some kind of direct challenge, probably a physical challenge that I can stand up to and say, "I'm a man." It sounds so trite, so Robert Bly, but I've never had that rite of passage. I've never felt like a Man. What's worse, I can think of lots of times when I've equivocated, stood down, bided my time to fight (metaphorically) another day. I'm a diplomat. I'm a mediator. I'm a wuss.

So what am I going to do about that? I don't think I can just go jump in a ring somewhere. Our man Charlie had some serious backing and some time to prep and train, and a pretty good base level of conditioning. Besides, I think I need to grow this thing, I think I need to practice at it.

Ok, here's my goal. Out here in front of the gods, the internet, and everybody. The first of May, 2006, I'll join a local boxing program. That gives me 73 days to get my base conditioning in good enough shape to stand respectably in the program. I need to go to the SF area for a week in March – the Rats offer a boxing class Tuesday and Thursday nights. I'll go to one.

I'm an idiot.