Sunday Best in Aisle Three

One day, while on an overnight layover in San Francisco en route to Osaka, I stepped into a market not far from the hotel. Standing in the checkout line, I happened to overhear an elderly yet graceful gentleman who, for whatever reason, was sharing his résumé with the lady behind the counter. The thirty-something-year-old woman seemed genuinely interested in what he had to say—or at least pretended to be.

"I used to be the Executive Vice President of XYZ company, had a zillion people working for me and my name is engraved here and engraved there blah blah blah," went the stately old man matter-of-factly.

Shoot. Even I was impressed.

Yet there he was, standing in the middle of the supermarket, draped in his Sunday best, trying to convince the lady at the register he was somebody important. I guess what he really wanted was for her to SNAP TO ATTENTION and SALUTE whenever his majesty graced the premises.

I also got the distinct impression that, somewhere along the way, he had lost his job; got downsized, forced into retirement or whatever—and was having a tremendous amount of trouble adjusting to his lofty NEW status as, well, a NOBODY.

I can relate.

When I first returned to America via Savannah, Georgia in 2008, fresh from my tenure in Japan as a successful entrepreneur, I received a cold, hard dose of reality. I discovered that the local population—investors, business people, employers and students alike—were NOT overly impressed by my background. If anything, most seemed to view me as an odd duck; one with a funny "northern" accent. Not white. But not quite black either.

To the locals, the only thing worth noting were my two historic properties located on MLK Blvd, a.k.a. the ghetto, albeit an area undergoing a degree of gentrification and renewal.

Adjusting to life as a "nobody"—the HERO to ZERO syndrome, I call it—can be a remarkably daunting obstacle to overcome. What's the point of having talent, knowledge and "wisdom" if the very people around you don't recognize it? My answer: Who cares. If all goes well, they'll be asking me for jobs one day!

As you can see, I am an optimist by nature; one extremely capable of looking at the brighter side of even the most dismal of circumstances—a knack which surely comes in handy on cold nights like these. Brrrrrr.....

I continue to be profoundly grateful for my superb health, supportive family and terrific bunch of good friends; not to mention the continued promise of a better tomorrow.