ABSTRACT
I have been a salesman since I was a kid buying and selling motorcycles. My father used to tell me that I had talent. When I went to college, he told me I could be anything I wanted, but not a salesman. He had been a salesman for many years and didn’t want me to have the ups and downs of a commissioned sales job. So I got my degree in psychology. “Great,” my father said, “now what are you going to do with a degree in psychology?” I didn’t know, but considered going to graduate school and becoming a doctor of psychology. My father thought that was a great idea, so I applied and was accepted into a doctoral program, where I was under the instruction of an old family friend. “What the heck are you doing in here?” he asked. “You made more money in your freshman year than any counselor I know.” From the start, he convinced me that although I had the talent to be a psychologist, I would never make the kind of money that I could as a salesman. After visiting with my father, he agreed and was surprised to find that his friend, the doctor, thought of him as an artist.
