“What’s this car run on?”
“It runs on love,” I said.
The investor stared at me. “Really?”
“Yeah.” I was sweating. “You think about someone you love; it powers the car.”
“I’m out,” he said. “I don’t want to break down because of an attack of road rage.”
Actually, the car ran on belief. If you believed it worked, it did. But belief was too nebulous. You had to concentrate on something. I picked love.
The next year, I saw an ad for the Chevy ‘Murica. It ran on American greatness. They sold millions.
I should have gone with that.