In college I had no interest in joining a fraternity. I was a “rugged individualist” who could and would make it on my own.
Now some 40 years later, I sometimes ponder the implications of paths not taken.
The lesson of this story applies to every aspect of personal, social, and business relationships.
A passenger on the bus this morning finished a phone call as he sat down beside me.
“Nope. All I got in my fraternity was hung over.” he said.
I remembered a hangover from my fraternity days, but that wasn’t all I got. I also got an excellent piece of advice.
I didn’t want to join a fraternity. The last thing I needed was to squeeze frat parties into a busy class schedule. However, a friend whose reverse idea was to squeeze classes into a busy party schedule somehow convinced me.
The next thing I knew, I was wearing a toga.
Prior to that were weeks of pledging. I’ve never enjoyed being told what to do, when, how often, and where – all while being criticized – and requests from the brothers were constant. Check in at the frat house, go on scavenger hunts, paint a room, make posters for…
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