There was once a young boy whose father died when he was born. His mother was a full-time nurse and a full-time student and hardly had any time to spend with the boy. They lived in a very rough and tumble neighborhood where the boy's future would be certain: Dead or incarcerated.

With those odds, she signed him up for lessons at the local boxing gym in an effort to have his adolescent aggressions channeled through a medium that would help keep him in great shape and focused on a discipline.

The boy was a natural and soon his abilities quickly surpassed the training of his coaches.

All too overconfident in his talent, he soon began to lose fight after fight after fight. His self-esteem quickly began to spiral downward and his mother--his biggest fan--began to empathize.

The boy soon got word that his trainers who had shown him the ropes since he was 12 were moving on to bigger and better things. They would be replaced by a militant, no-nonsense former drill sergeant with a very impressive boxing record himself.

Rumor had it that he suffered a meltdown in the ring and vowed to never fight again. The boy, now 15 years of age, was indifferent and couldn't imagine how this new trainer would help make him any better since his old ones had convinced him they taught him all he would ever need to know.

His last fight was gruesome; well for him anyway. He was knocked down swiftly in each round, each time taking a blow to the face. After he was counted out and sat with his trainers during their last fight together, the new trainer had witnessed the fight as a spectator and waited his turn to greet and possibly comfort the young fighter whom he would inherit as his pupil.

With a towel draped over his head in an attempt to hide his shame, one of his former trainers was heard saying, "Chin up, son! It gets better." His new trainer approached him and said, "No, son. Keep your chin down... Your career will start to improve once you do..."

Often in life we go into life with our chins up. In boxing, the chin is the perfect target for your opponent. Depending on the strength of your chin, it could mean an early night for any fighter as they kiss the canvas in defeat.

At times, we wear our hearts on our sleeves like amateur fighters who burst into the ring with gloves up and chins up, dangling them before their opponents like a piece of raw flesh taunting a starving lion. Because we keep our "chins" up, we're more susceptible to heart breaks and other unpleasant names for assault against the emotions and human spirit.

It is for this very reason that I will be keeping my "chin down" and advising others to do the same. So for those of you who feel beaten up by life, no matter how hard you "train" for the biggest match of your lives, forget the chin up stuff.

Keep your chins down. Do not make yourself an easy target for your enemies and your haters to easily dispatch and then tower over you in victory as you look up and wonder, "WTH just hit me?"

In this boxing match of life, love and the pursuit of happYness, gloves up!
Chin Down!

Gregory Vilfranc is a singer, songwriter, music producer and all-around geeky Renaissance man. Residing in New York City, he is an avid blogger on all things cool