The morning air carries the sound of an aluminum motorboat that moves slowly across the lake with a slight, muffled hum as it penetrates the remaining fog resting on the water. Steam rises from my coffee cup, resting on the arm of my 100-year-old Adirondack chair on the dock. There’s something about Sunday mornings that makes the world feel full of possibility.
The Dream That Wouldn’t Die
At 14, I fell desperately in love with an impossible dream: becoming a radio DJ. Not just any DJ — a star. I wanted it with the kind of burning intensity that only teenagers can muster. While other kids played Pong, I practiced my craft with religious devotion. When songs came on the radio, I’d talk up the intros like I was broadcasting to millions: “This is Eric Rhoads, your favorite DJ, and here’s a brand new record from the O’Jays.”
My secret weapon was a K-Tel record album — one of those compilations that crammed 20 shortened hit songs onto a single disc. Perfect for practice. I could rehearse talking at the start and end of records, 20 songs in a row, pretending I was the voice that connected people to the music they loved. I did it for hours on end, day after day, week after week.
Breaking Through the “Impossible”
I managed to land a volunteer spot at a college radio station while still in high school. They gave me the Saturday-morning shift — the graveyard slot when college kids wanted to sleep off their Friday-night adventures. I didn’t care. I would have worked any shift, any time, for the chance to be on the air.
But breaking into commercial radio? That was the real mountain to climb. I was young, inexperienced, and competing against 150 other applicants for every job. The industry veterans all said the same thing: “Kid, you’ve got to pay your dues. Don’t expect this to happen fast.”
I refused to accept that timeline. While everyone insisted I had to spend years climbing the ladder, rung by rung, I was determined to find a different way up.
When Your Kids Echo the Old Wisdom
The other day, one of my children said something that stopped me cold: “Dad, I have to pay my dues first.”
Watching my kids navigate the job market has been both fascinating and frustrating. Two have just graduated college, while the third chose the school of hard knocks — and we’re proud that he’s working and surviving. The college graduates constantly remind us that the job market is “different than it was when you were young.” They roll their eyes when we offer advice, convinced we’re digital dinosaurs who couldn’t possibly understand their world of online applications and radio silence.
“Dad, all applications are online and you get ghosted. You don’t even hear from them,” they tell me with the weary resignation of defeated warriors.
The Tests You Don’t Know You’re Taking
Here’s what might surprise my kids: I lay traps for job applicants. Deliberate ones.
I’ll set appointments and then cancel them, just to see who reaches out again. Most never do. During interviews, I give project assignments: “Send me a one-page PDF outlining how you’d excel in this role.” The majority never complete the homework. When there’s mutual interest, I’ll say, “Call me Thursday.” Then I don’t answer. I count the messages they leave, track how many times they call back.
The ones who don’t give up? They get offered the job.
Because persistence almost always wins. Creativity almost always wins. Resourcefulness always wins.
The Unexpected Hearse
My late friend Rich Marston understood this principle better than anyone. He wanted to land a particular car dealer as an advertiser — a potential goldmine account. His first call ended with a rude assistant hanging up before he could even speak to the owner.
Most people would have moved on. Rich saw it as a year-long project.
Every weekday, on his way home from work, he stopped by the dealership to try to see the owner, leaving a note each time. For an entire year. When that still didn’t work, Rich got creative.
One day, a hearse pulled up to the showroom. Pallbearers carried a coffin inside. The owner ran out, shouting, “You can’t bring that in here!” That’s when they opened the coffin to reveal Rich lying inside with a sign: “I’m dying to get your business!”
The dealer burst into laughter. He’d been testing Rich’s persistence all along, keeping every single note he’d left. Rich walked away with a massive contract and a friendship that lasted years.
The Myth of the Must-Haves
My kids are trapped by “musts”: You must have a degree, you must follow certain rules, you must apply through proper channels. Yes, if you’re becoming a doctor or lawyer, credentials matter. But even then, they’re not enough when 3,000 other qualified people want the same position.
You have to find a way to stand out, to be remembered, to create an interview experience so exceptional that people can’t stop thinking about you. It starts with finding a way to get noticed, to slip through the door, and to rise above the sea of identical applications.
The Quiet Man Who Knows Everyone
My artist friend Guy Morrow is the most connected person I know. He can reach anyone on earth and seems to know everybody, yet he’s quiet and unassuming — the last person you’d expect to be a networking powerhouse.
When Guy first called me, I was looking for a polite way to end the conversation. Within two minutes, he had charmed me, found our common ground, and somehow turned a cold call into the beginning of a friendship. Before long, I was spending weekends painting with him. We’ve been close friends ever since.
Guy never felt he didn’t deserve someone’s time. He never assumed he couldn’t reach someone. He simply believed that connection was possible and acted accordingly.
The Doors That Never Open Unless You Knock
Most people defeat themselves before they start. They assume they can’t reach someone important, so they don’t try. They tell themselves, “They don’t want to talk to me,” or, “I’m not important enough.” But at the end of the day, we’re all just people.
Believing you can accomplish anything and reach anyone is one of the keys to a rich life. Not every door will open — but none will open if you don’t knock. Following standard procedures is for ordinary outcomes. The people getting extraordinary opportunities are the ones trying creative solutions to tell their story.
The Weight of Chances Not Taken
Is there a time you can recall when you didn’t call, didn’t ask, didn’t take a chance — even though it was something you desperately wanted?
Can you remember a time when you walked through a brick wall because you wanted something so badly you could taste it?
I cringe when I think about the opportunities I let slip away because I was too insecure or shy to pursue them. I used to say, “That’s just who I am,” until I got sick enough of failing that I decided to change that part of who I was.
The Philosophy of the Possible
You deserve the best possible life, the best opportunities, the best job. There may be others more qualified on paper, but you are special — and you need to make sure others know it. Don’t let anything get in the way of that truth.
Think big. Aim high. Never, ever give up.
There is always a way. Always.
The question isn’t whether the path exists — it’s whether you’re willing to find it, create it, or, if necessary, blast your way through solid rock with nothing but determination and a refusal to accept no as a final answer.
What door have you been afraid to knock on? What dream have you been too “realistic” to pursue? Sometimes the biggest barrier between you and everything you want is the word “impossible” — and that’s a word you have the power to erase.
