subject: Quickly, Easily And Effortlessly Move To Correct The Error [print this page] In the real estate investment arm of my life, I entered a house one day. After I had looked the house over quickly I sat down at the kitchen table and told the owner, "Yep, I'll let you give me this house." He was amenable to the idea, because he wanted to get on with his life in another city.
I had brought my secretary with me, who happens to be a notary public-company paid-for, of course-so we sat down and did the deal. Less than 20 minutes after we walked in, I owned the house. When you know what you're doing, that's the kind of real estate deal you can do.
And so it was good. Now that the deal was done, the pressure was off-the guy knew that I had the house, and I gave him a week to get out. Then we stood up, and as I was getting ready to go he said, "Look around. Everything in here is for sale."
I said, "Really?"
So I looked around and I noticed this piece of furniture and this sofa bed and this cabinet, and all this other stuff, and I said, "Well, I'm going to tell Nick about that, Sammy about that, and Joan about that. And I'll send them over to you. How about that?"
He said, "Yeah, but everything here's for sale." And I stopped a moment. I said, "You mean that motorcycle I saw in the garage, that crotch rocket Kawasaki, is for sale?"
He said, "Oh yeah." So I said, "Okay, what do you want for it?" He said, "Well, I owe about $2,900 on it." It was only a few months old, and he had obviously put something down on it. So I said, "Twenty-nine hundred. Okay, how much are the payments?" He said, "The payments are $154 a month."
I said, "Well, I tell you what I'll do. I'll take up payments. We'll leave it in your name." You catch my drift-I wasn't accepting responsibility, but I'd pay for the bike. And he said okay. So now, all of a sudden, I'd become the proud owner of a crotch rocket.
I said, "This is great!" So my secretary and I went back to the office and dropped off my car. We got in her car, and she took me out there. The guy included a helmet, so I got on that crotch rocket and zoooom! In a few minutes I was home.
A few days later, I found myself pissed off because I had to follow the law. I mean, I could zip around a line of eight cars in a half-second on that thing, and yet I had to stay behind them in single file, not cross the double yellow line? This is in America, by the way-outside of America the same rules don't apply.
I found myself having to follow the speed limit. I mean, I could get up to 120 in the blink of an eye. I could do wheelies, and I found myself going from point "A" to point "B" doing just those things.
I found myself loving the extreme power - and then it turned on a dime and I became fearful of it.
I found myself thinking, "Man, they call this thing the Hawk for good reasons. I have way more at stake in my life, I have way more to contribute. I'm not going to kill myself with an accident on a motorcycle. I've got to get something done about this."
Just a few days later, I realized I had made an error. So I called the guy up and said, "Listen, I don't want it. I'm going to give it back to you." He said, "No, no, no, you took it, you've got to keep it."
So I figured well, hey, easy enough. And I got out of it pretty easy. It wasn't hard to pass it along with the same deal.
But the interesting thing is, first of all it was a chance event, where the thing was offered to me. Second of all, I took it; third of all, I realized I'd made an error. Fourth of all, I quickly, easily, and effortlessly moved to correct the error.
