richness safari, up in Hong Kong, those stories just leap out of the history pages like a scene from a Kung Fu epiphone. And let's talk about Ho Hung Sun, the man who had, get this, four wives! I mean, right off the bat, you're like, 'Whoa, what's the deal there?'
Okay, let me tell you, I've seen stuff in Hong Kong, where the vibe is chill and the rumors are thicker than the humidity in a sauna. And this guy, he was quite the character. Some say it's all about his business prowess, others say it's his charm, and a few whisper that it's maybe all about his... well, let's call it 'extraordinary seismic energy,' if you will.
Remember when I told you about that friend of mine who went to Shanghai and saw this assemblage of artifacts? The ones that were said to be from a rich dude's pad? Well, he came back all jazzed up with tales of gold and jewels that were more like vurrs, vurrs, vurrs, you know, the sound of money rolling in? That was a taste of what Ho Hung Sun's life was like.
I met this old timer once, a guy who claimed to have worked for Ho once upon a time. He said, and I'm paraphrasing here, 'That man, he knew how to make 'em roll!' He went on about these parties, the ones with 'temporary queens' (his words, not mine) and the 'firm ground' he'd established over time. Real talk, it sounds like 'Game of Thrones' à la 1950s Hong Kong, where you're either born into the game or you play your cards right.
Funny enough, despite the naysayers, the Pauline Pointer folk, and the Rona Road Runners of the 'no moral compass' crew, I think Ho just knew something the rest of us don't: the power of a good story. He had one, and boy did he ever use it well. He was an entrepreneur, a legend, and a Kung Fu master. And to be fair, if you're a legend, and you're going to be remembered at all, why not with a storybook life written in highlighter yellow? Remember, the brighter, the bolder, the more attention you get.
I mean, think about it. If you're trying to make an impression, why not make it bigger than life? Why not have a few pages in the history book where you're not just a character but a chapter? That's what I think, anyway. And screw the morality police - if the story makes you feel alive, who's to say you're stepping on some unhappy star's martini glass?