This is another ridiculous story that re-emerged in my memory as I grew older. When you re-examine your life, funny episodes come to mind that mean more now than they did when they happened. Carl Jung explained that exceptions to our normal responses are the telling points in our psyches. The funny stories of our pasts can aid us in defining who we are as individuals.

Sixteen and a Car

Do you remember the day you turned sixteen and were finally legally permitted to drive? I had my learner’s permit all summer. I spent it with my panicky father, who occasionally let me drive when his nerves could stand it.  At every stop sign, he’d stomp his right foot as if slamming on the brake. On my sixteenth birthday — October 2, 1973 — I don’t know who was happier:  me or my father.

My parents gave me an old 1964 pink Pontiac to drive. It started its life maroon, but by ’73 it had faded to a dull pink.

Considering my dream of a University of Texas degree, I look back and am grateful it was not maroon. Besides, if it hadn’t been pink, both my friends and I would have had fewer jokes.

The First “No”

I turned sixteen on a Tuesday, and I planned on my first real date that Friday night. I only had one small problem. No girlfriend. I knew who to ask though, and that night I called her on the phone. She quickly said “no.”

What a rookie mistake. After that week, I never made the cold call mistake again, but I was new to the business and was shocked. That wasn’t the end to my mistakes that night. I called four more girls, but each one said “no” without hesitation. (There’s a possibility that someone reading this was once one of those girls.)

I was crushed. I wound up going out with the guys that Friday night. I drove, of course.

Burning and Learning

I burned about my failures. I examined what I’d done wrong and eventually solved the problem. I take something else from those failures now as I remember the story.

Don’t give up. Go after what you want. If you fail, you fail. You start again. I’ve learned more from my failures than my successes. That’s a cliché — I understand. I hate clichés, but this one is true.

Sometimes you have to try again. On a few occasions I’ve had to push through situations my mistakes got me into.

When I was an undergraduate, I came across the works of the poet Dylan Thomas. He wrote a poem to his dying father, “Do Not Go Gentle Into That Goodnight.”

It begins,

Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

I’ve used these lines to help me power through many things, many times. It didn’t do much for Thomas, but it helped me. It still does.

And, by the way, I’d have said “no” to me, too.