I think I can.
Then you can.
But it would have been nice to know then what I know now.
You know now. Let that be enough.
My father used to say, “So old so soon, so smart so late.
I remember that.
Do you think I took that one in too deeply?
What do you think?
I think I did, but I’m tossing it out right now.
Good. So get back to where I “stepped in again,” as you put it, allowing you to prepare your
Self more and more for the work you’d already decided to do in the world.
Well, after I experienced what I came to the radio station to experience, I promptly got myself
removed from there, too. It all happened very suddenly. One day I was asked by the station
to leave the program director’s job and become an on-the-road salesman of air time. I think
the owners felt that I was not doing as well as they’d hoped as PD, but they didn’t want to fire
me outright, and so, gave me a chance to stay employed.
Now I don’t think there’s a tougher job in the world than that of a time salesman for a radio or
television station. I was constantly begging for a moment of some businessman’s day in
order to make my “pitch,” then trying as hard as I could to convince him to do something that
he really didn’t want to do. Then I had to work doubly hard to please him by writing snappy,
effective ad copy once he did capitulate and spend a few dollars on a commercial. And,
finally, I’d worry my head off that there would be results, so that he would continue
advertising.
I was working on a draw against commission, as most time sales people do, and each week
that I didn’t earn my draw, I felt guilty for being paid for something I wasn’t doing—and frantic
that I was going to be fired. This didn’t exactly produce an attitude of joy as I went off to work
each morning.
I remember sitting in my car one day in the parking lot of a shopping center where I was to
make a cold call. I hated cold calls, I hated my new job, and I hated myself for getting myself
into it, even though it didn’t seem that I had much choice. I’d married just before going down
south, and my first child was now on the way. Sitting in that car, miserable and furious, I
banged on the steering wheel with my fists, once again demanding of God (this time, actually
screaming out loud), “Get me out of this!”
Someone walked by the car and looked at me strangely, then quickly opened the door.
“What’s the matter, lock yourself in?” I smiled sheepishly, pulled myself together, and trudged
into the store. I asked if I could see the manager or owner, and was asked in return, ‘Are you
a salesman?” When I said yes, I was told, “He can’t see you now.