Here’s a great story my father told me. Once, he was walking through a bustling Manhattan subway station during the morning commute. The corridors swarmed with highly caffeinated professionals racing to their cubicles.
A man with wild eyes and tattered clothing stood on the edge of the chaos. He had fashioned a megaphone from scrap cardboard and was delivering an oration at the top of his lungs.
“This is your life, people!” he preached to the businessmen. “This is it. This is what you have been waiting for!”
New Yorkers are used to this sort of thing. The vagabond’s presence didn’t even register. But my father thought to do something which apparently no one else had. He stopped and actually listened to what the guy had to say.
“You’ve only got one shot at this folks. This is the real deal. This is your life and it’s actually happening. People, this is NOT a dress rehearsal!”
My father just stood there staring at this guy. He was making some terrific points.
All things considered, the subway preacher was holding it together pretty well. I suspect that I’d be running naked through the street if I actually understood what he was saying. You know, on more than just an intellectual level.