It dawned on me, after reviewing "The O List" (October), that I could be the perfect O Man. I fly in a DeHavilland Beaver to and from my home on Prince of Wales Island. I bought, surfed on, and broke a Rusty surfboard. I've been wearing the same G-Shock for seven years, have a banged-up but functional Dragonfly camp stove, and keep moldy Reggiano Parmesan for weekend forays into the backcountry (I shave off the funky sections). I own a Leatherman I can't find, wear wraparound Oakleys, and do occasional focused (and unfocused) crunches. I pack duct tape in my truck and have spent summers in the Tetons. My library holds the tattered remains of The Worst Journey in the World. I'm wearing SmartWool socks and hacking out this message 33,000 feet over the Chugach Range on my G4 Titanium. My girlfriend just traded her VW Beetle for an Xterra SC (my idea). So for just about $380,150, I'm your man. Who says you can't buy happiness?