When I was fourteen, the Beatles were touring the United States. They came to Detroit, where I grew up, to do a concert. My friends had formed a Beatles fan club and they all bought tickets to the concert. I did not join the club because although I was certainly a fan, I did not see the point in a bunch of girls sitting around and mooning over which of the Fab Four they liked best or who was the cutest. And I didn’t buy a ticket because I figured the concert would be raucous and filled with shrieking girls and I wouldn’t be able to hear a note.
What I didn’t know was that the club had realized pretty quickly that they didn’t have much to do. But everyone had paid dues, and they had a few hundred dollars. They decided to sponsor a Native American child with the money. The Beatles somehow got wind of this and they asked to meet the president of the club after the concert. When the time came (after a concert filled with screaming girls where no one could hear a note), the president of the club was called into the green room. Three of her friends waited for her outside. After a minute she stuck her head out and said that the Beatles wanted all of them to come in. They spent about two hours hanging out and laughing and having a good time. At one point John Lennon tapped my friend Gloria on the shoulder. She turned around and he said, “Yes?” Paul was talking to people and hustling, George was quiet and introspective, and Ringo spent a lot of time looking through a Beatles scrapbook with one of the club members.
I was not there. I thought I was too much of a smarty pants and look what happened. I could have met the Beatles and I didn’t. Because I didn’t show up.
So show up. Go to that meeting or conference or gathering. Listen to that podcast. It may turn out to be a dud. So what? At least you put yourself out there. Because you just never know what might happen. But for sure, nothing will happen if you don’t show up.
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