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Here's your success mentor Darren Hardy.

Mickey Charles was crying. He was trying to hide it but crying nonetheless.

His dad could tell even over the phone. I'm just a failure, said the young man again and again.

Dad said, where are you? The boy answered the Lazelle Hotel in Kansas City.

Dad said, I'll be right there and hung up. It would be a long drive from Whitebird, Oklahoma, 150 miles at least.

But that was okay. It would give Dad some time to think, and there was much to think about.

First off, the boy was no failure. Never could be as far as his dad was

concerned. He just needed a little boost of self-confidence the way he had sometimes

needed when he was a kid as well. You ain't gonna spend your natural life in the minds the way I did, Dad had

often admonished. But if you're going to do anything else, you've got to believe in yourself.

And the boy had listened patiently, but had he really understood what the old man was saying.

Well, Dad touched the steering wheel before him, but all he could see was his boy up there in Kansas City,

his heart-breaking in a hotel room room far from home.

What would dad say once he got here?

He kept asking himself.

Maybe something like, hang in there boy, you're going to be all right.

Then a little pat on the back.

That ought to do it or would it.

Meanwhile, Mickey Charles was sulking in his room, pacing back and forth, mentally

arming himself against the impeding onslaught of persuasion. Dad could be very persuasive, after all.

But he better not try to talk him out of it this time,

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