To write an homage to Mestre Acordeon in less than four hundred words is like saying the Mona Lisa is a painting of a woman. You might be leaving a few details out.
I’ll try anyway; because I must give credit:
Today I am here, and you are reading this blog, because Mestre Acordeon is a crazy, old man – with the heart of a young lion.
If you spent a year riding bicycle from San Francisco to Brazil with Mestre, you could also try to get away with describing him that way. We swatted at mosquitoes together, shared countless road side meals (sorry about those bananas, Mestre), and patched more flats then an Olympic cyclist lost on a bed of nails.
The seventy year old martial arts legend led our ragtag bunch of ten Capoeira Cyclists across twelve thousand miles, through deserts and jungles, up and down tens of thousands of feet of mountains, and past the very real and experienced dangers of Central and South America.
He never backed down.
Wearing his yellow Brazilian riding shirt we watched his ram-rod straight back disappear on the empty horizon ahead of us day after day. Often I thought that his will alone kept us alll moving forward.
Here is a good maxim: When you ride bike with a seventy year old you can never be tired.
On that road to Brazil I found a perfect metaphor to describe the importance of Mestre Acordeon’s life to all of us. He pushes on when the rest of us lays down.
He leads, we follow.
And follow, we do gladly, because most of us go through life without ever meeting the Bill Clinton’s of the world. Those stand-outs who seem to be connected to some kind of galactic charisma well-spring that mere mortals lack the password to. When we do manage to attach to one of them they take us to places we never dreamed of going.
Because of my own ballsy foolishness (have in spades, will travel) to show up uninvited at the beginning of Mestre Acordeon’s B2B journey to Brazil in September 2013, I can tell you with all honesty that that Dos Equis beer commercial guy is a floppy Richard compared to the real thing. So stop drinking that watered down sacrilege they call beer and start training Capoeira with the actual most interesting man alive at UCA in Berkeley.
Though my mother has her doubts, I do sometimes recognize what is good for me, and so I attached myself happily to his wellspring of wisdom. Sadly for me, and you, it seems the whole world queues up for a small sip of mana, and so, we had better get in line, too.
If you long to learn, then search out this modern day warrior philosopher, this seeker and synthesizer of knowledge in the best of humanity’s traditions.
But don’t ask what he will do for you. Instead, ask what you can do for him. And then sit back and watch the fireworks. You might even go to the moon.
I leave you with Mestre Acordeon making up words in Manaus. Just, you know, because he can. And because we needed to laugh a little on that sad day.
O Senhor, estou com saudades de vc sempre.