Maestro - a Spanish term that I was first exposed to while growing up and living on a ranch in South Texas.  The term there (in cowboy country) was generally used to identify an old man who was considered the "go to guy" on a particular topic or "The Master".  When I was a kid I knew two ranch hands that it was applied to but now, some 40 years later one of the two really sticks in my mind.

He was an old man who had lived in brush country all his life and had done about everything.  Raised by an Indian Shaman, expert in herbal and old country medicine, able to sniff the wind and tell you the weather forecast, an old cowboy who knew how to sit a horse and run a brand, played dominoes like a fiend, at age 85 had a crew of young kids he ramrodded in fence and windmill repair, up at 4 AM everyday, at the cow camp before sun-up fixing black coffee and breakfast over a mesquite fire, he got the men fed and by 2 PM was in his pick-up on the way out to the pasture.

His breakfast everyday consisted of potatoes and eggs with camp bread (pan de campo) with black coffee strong enough to de-hair a dog, and afterwards a chaser of one jigger of gold tequila and a cigar, all of which taken together (at least according to him) was his secret to long life.

Anytime someone had a personal issue, they went to him for advice and they generally listened and followed it.  I think that one reason as to why he was so highly regarded even tho' he had very little "formal" education was because he was always curious and always willing himself to ask advice, even of those much younger than he if he thought he could learn something of value.  Humble he was, almost to a fault since he never took credit for anything even if he should have.

All these years later, I find myself emulating him somewhat in the "always curious" and "try to stay humble" departments and wishing that I had been older and smarter than the snot-nose teenager that I was at the time so that I could have learned more from him than I did.

One important lesson that I think I did manage to take with me is that even tho' people addressed him as Maestro, he never really wanted to be that; for that matter, neither do I.

I don't ever want to become a Maestro, a great artistic master of Aikido, or of anything else.  I think that when you reach that level, and then (heaven forbid) actually allow yourself to accept what it implies, that you lose the innocence and the naivete that allows the excitement at new discoveries that leads to innovation, progress and advancement.  You lose your curiosity that allows further achievement and your lack of humility gets in the way.

Today, Antonio Rivas Maestro strikes me as a man who never really accepted being "The Master".  He was careful to keep that innate curiosity that allowed him to become the "go to guy" even though I am certain that when younger he never envisioned himself as such.  He continued to learn and grow until he became the "Maestro" by default and the insistence of others who respected him, and without his ever wanting or striving for that.

I think that he never really accepted what that term meant.  He was just an old cowboy who played dominoes and who looked forward to his two vices in his older years; his morning tequila shot and a cigar and always kept his mind open to new thoughts and ideas; even if they came from a young snot-nose kid like me.

Originally Published September 23, 2008