I serendipitously met Tony Lo while walking a co-worker home. Turns out, he was walking to a construction job uptown. Turns out, my co-worker's brother saw him in the street and called his name, wherein he gracefully strode up the driveway to say his hellos. TURNS OUT, his full name was Anthony Lo(w). I never asked how to spell his last name. Tony Lo was enough to catch my attention; his name sounded like that of a triad from a John Woo flick. However, from Hong Kong, he was not. Nor was he Asian. In fact, he was from Yorkshire, with one of those in between cockney/refined English accents. Ironic that in the later part of his life he'd become part of the working class. However, it was his own choice. In fact, after the usual banter, insulting my coworker's brother for being an intolerable, hopeless, bottom rung of society kid/construction worker, I asked what motivated him to change careers so drastically. In other words, why give up such a good resume for a career that Tony himself admitted, was at the bottom rung of society.
He used that phrase a lot in our conversation, more than he remembered my own name.
Anyway, he wasn't a sociologist. I couldn't imagine why anyone would want to be associated with the bottom rung of society. But Tony Lo wanted something more. Some kind of drastic change. Since he wasn't Asian enough to become some kind of Hong Kong pop sensation, and too old to be strung out on cocaine and heroin for days (though that's debatable), he decided on the next best thing (also debatable), and that was doing something he was interested in. I suppose after all those fathead years of eating scones in boardrooms and taking pictures where someone says, "say cheese," and you reply, "camembert or brie- hahahaha," you'd more or less want to see if there's any Man left in you. Tony Lo had the money, he climbed mount Kiliminjaro, now he wanted to see if he could really survive in a place where there's no place to go but up. He had money to cushion his fall.
So, enrolling in trades college, he started all over again, meeting my coworker's brother in class and convincing the poor kid to stick with his schooling because when it's all done, it's all done. It'll be behind him and he'll have some kind of diploma, and you can't erect buildings without one. Good luck on my coworker's brother's part. Quite frankly, he should have been more polite to Tony, otherwise who knows where he might have been working. Or, maybe it wouldn't have mattered. Maybe I just spend too much time around old people, sans Tony Lo.
Despite all that, and regardless of what I might think of Tony's decision, there was something admirable about his cockney character. He had the identity of the anti-hero. The man who gives up something good and measurable just because he likes to mess with a worldview. Kind of like a university Graduate who drops out to become a loley cook. Romantic, no? Practical? No.
I had tried to relate to Tony as best I could, telling him I chose a similar suit. Unfortunately, I didn't have the life experience or money to back up any screw ups. However, Tony seemed sympathetic, calling me an everyman, and telling me that there's nowhere to go but up. That's why the whole experience for Tony, and myself, may be so wonderful. I could become a master chef; I could stay the course and use whatever skills I have in food to become a wonderful food critic. "What's important, Liam," Tony told me, "is that you remember."
"Remember, Nigel," Tony continued telling me, "that there's nowhere to go but up."
Words to live by, assuming you're at the bottom rung, wear beat up, ripped, bleached pants, torn hooded sweaters, kirchiefs around your neck and carry a chef's smock in a grocery bag. Regardless of that, with some good Tony Lo perspective, and a little chutzpah, even if you are at the bottom rung of society, you can always look forward to a better tomorrow.
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