A Bad Burlesque Show

A funny thing happened on the way to getting my big damn freelance course online.

Well, actually, a bunch of things happened. And none of them are funny.

It’s been like a bad burlesque show — lots of pratfalls, stumbles and set breakdowns. Or maybe it’s been more like a slow-motion train wreck. If I was superstitious, I’d swear this site had been cursed.

But I refuse to be superstitious anymore. I played organized baseball until I was seventeen, and like a lot of ballplayers, I developed hopelessly dumb superstitious quirks. I was a shortstop, which caused me so much anxiety I still wake up in a cold sweat over that hot grounder that got away forty years ago.

I just never developed the steely ego required for facing down bruising line-drives, spike-up slides into second, and those nightmarish pop ups that disappeared into the lights and took half an hour to come back down.

I really should have been on the chess club.

So, in a futile attempt to assuage the jitters, I started piling on the superstitious nonsense. Like, maybe if I “did everything right”, the hardball gods would smile on me.

First, I couldn’t touch any baseline, ever. Even when running out a bunt. That drove the coach insane.

Then, I couldn’t have a dime in my pocket. Don’t ask me where this stuff came from — I have no clue. At some point, dimes became tokens of evil. I refused to even touch them, and if I couldn’t get two nickels in change at a store, I’d just walk away ten cents poorer.

Things got really bad when I somehow decided I had to stomp every dirt clod around me before each pitch. At first, it was just the clods nearby. As the season heated up, though, I occasionally darted halfway over to second base to crush a big one that caught my eye.

“What the hell are you doing out there, Carlton?” asked the coach, in that nice way he had of talking to his players. “You look like you’re dancing the frigging tango.”

Then, one day I took stock, and decided superstitions were nonsense. I even defied all my personal bugaboos, on purpose, and charted the results.

big surprise: There was no difference in how my life progressed.

Of course, I was a teenager, so things weren’t going all that well anyway. But nothing bad happened because I violated any voodoo rule.

To this day, I still feel the unwelcome tug of superstition. And my response is always to just take it head on — step on the crack, take the other detour, break routine.

Come on, Evil Eye, do your worst.

Result: What happens, happens. The rabbit’s foot doesn’t make a bit of difference.

So, I don’t believe in fate much, anymore. We make our own luck, and we create our own hells.

Nevertheless… I would be forgiven for believing my freelance Website has been cursed.

I don’t want to get into the sordid details. The site’s still not up, and I’m doing what I can to fix it. Part of the problem involves the payment options — merchant account stuff, very boring. I don’t do bean counting very eagerly.

But I haven’t pushed as hard as I could, either… because, frankly, I got swamped with people ordering the freelance course just from the limited “sneak peeks” to a few blog readers, and to my Insiders (who always get first look at anything, and a better deal than anyone else).

I actually considered not floating the Website at all this summer… because I offer so much personal hand-holding with the Pro Level Freelance Career Map, including critiques and answers to emailed questions.

My lazy ass has a limit to how much help I can offer newcomers. And I’m at the cusp of calling the Freelance “club” all-full-up for the moment.

However, there are still numerous blog readers who have been very patiently waiting to see the Freelance pitch. I would be a royal cad to go grinch before giving you a fair shot.

So, for a short time, I have posted that pitch at this hidden page: www.marketingrebelrant.com/sneakpeek.pdf.

When the official site finally goes up, I will pull it whenever too many people sign up, and repost it when I get a handle on the workload again.

I love teaching, and I get chills everytime I receive another hot testimonial from someone who followed my advice and got rich. New testimonials from the recent release of the updated freelance material are already mounting… and these guys have only had a month or so to get going.

But I can’t teach well if I’m stressed by the workload. So I watch the limits VERY carefully. That’s part of my job as a conscientous teacher.

I don’t want to frustrate anyone hot to get after their own freelance career. But you need to jump on these opportunities when they arrive. I’m only one guy. Out of necessity, I will pull this hidden page as soon as I reach my predetermined limit again.

And I’ve got my fingers crossed that no one gets left out this time.


John Carlton

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"11 Really Stupid Blunders You're Making With Your Biz & Career Right Now."

  • Michael says:

    Superstitions? Oh yeah, by the truckload.

    Played pro ball in the Chicago Cubs organization. Only embarrased by the second half of that sentence, though.

    I was a closer. You know, the go to guy late in the game when the marbles were on the line. Loved it. But couldn’t pitch if I didn’t pull the pants on the same way when suiting up. Left first, then right.

    There, too, was the dump I always had to take during batting practice (probably just nerves) and the spikes… jet black. Nothing less.

    Funny thing was, all the guys had their superstitions. Didn’t talk about it though — that was a superstition!

  • Kevin says:

    Not many.
    But stepping over the foul lines on a baseball field was the one unwritten rule I never dared violate. Ever.
    Never even realized I was doing it until at age 51, I made my manager’s trip to the mound to pull a struggling pitcher from my daughter’s 6TH GRADE SOFTBALL TEAM.
    A sixth grade girl’s softball team fer chrissakes.
    And the only reason I realized I did it was because my wife casually mentioned to a gal-pal in the stands something like, “Watch this. He’ll walk over the foul line and never touch the chalk”
    Sure enough I came through, much to the amusement of the female contingent in the stands.
    On the contrary, the men in the bleachers were in almost universal agreement with my action, nodding and saying things like, “That’s the way it is…” and,”You gotta have played the game to know why…”
    After I thought about it I realized that doing what I did brought back, if only for a brief, bittersweet moment, the joy of I received from playing baseball in my younger days. Little League, Babe Ruth, American Legion, High School.
    So, I’ll continue do it. Cuz it makes me feel good.
    Oh yeah, I also cover my mouth with my hand while talking to a pitcher or batter.
    Never can be sure which one of the opposing coaches are lip readers, ya know.

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