Dear Joe,
I've recently divorced and am looking to make some changes in my life. Starting over is hard enough as it is, but I have a fear of failure that only makes it worse. I know it is silly, but I hate looking "stupid", so I tend to avoid any sports, hobbies, ect, that I don't feel that I can excel in. What can I do?

D.D.

Dear D.D.,
When I was 8 years old I saw my first rodeo and was hooked. The speed, the excitement, the danger, was more than I could stand. I knew what I wanted to be. I was going to be a barrel racer.

Little did I know, at the time, that barrel racing was an event reserved for women. It was a Lesson #1 in how unfair the world could be: Women get all the good sports. Heartbroken, I gave up on my cowboy dreams and sought to make my mark on a more "manly" sport - figure skating.

Eventually, though, I decided that if I couldn't be a barrel racer that I'd be a bull rider. Bull riding certainly looked easy enough. Hang on for eight seconds and then fall off. Nothing too it. "Falling off" was definitely a skill I could master.

So I practiced every day. Hang on, fall off. Hang on, fall off. Every day, rain or shine, I would go down to the local dairy and practice my technique. The cows would be hooked up to the milking machine and I would be straddled atop. Hanging on, falling off.

The next step was to join a rodeo association. After having my application rejected by the PBR (Professional Bull Riders) and the PRCA (Professional Rodeo Cowboys Assoc.), I was accepted by the BRWA (Bull Rider Wannabes Assoc.). Several months of practice later, I was ranked #3,284th in the state of Texas with total winnings of $3.27.

Unfortunately, my standing was later lowered after the BRWA decided that collecting the spare change that falls into the arena from the pockets of other bull riders could not be classified as "winnings."

My hard work and dedication never made up for my complete lack of skill, talent, and basic motor skills. But do you think I gave up? Well, actually, now that I think about it, I did. But that's not the point. What was important were the valuable lessons the experience taught me.

For example, I learned that holding on to a bull rope is harder than it looks, that falling off a steer hurts more than falling off a milk cow, and that getting stomped in the crotch by a two-ton Brahma will make your left eyeball pop clean out of it's socket. I also learned that putting your eyeball back in your head is more difficult when your hands are covered with cow snot.