This post is an excerpt from my upcoming book, Fry Your Chickens—coming May 2025.
In August of 1999, I turned on the TV in a Stamford, Connecticut Marriott and stumbled onto a new game show: Who Wants to Be a Millionaire?
One episode in and I was hooked.
“This is multiple choice,” I thought. “I could do this!”
Unlike Jeopardy!, I didn’t need to know obscure 18th-century diseases or famous mime quotes (and remember to answer in the form of a question). Millionaire was fast-paced, fun, and—just maybe—winnable.
Then came the kicker: “Want to be a contestant? Call this number.”
So I did. Then I did again. And again.
Within a week, I had a full-blown obsession.
The Definition of Obsession
People define obsession in all sorts of ways:
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Intense dedication
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Fixation
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Restraining order
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80s song
Here’s mine:
Obsession is wanting something so much that you’ll fry any chickens that stand in your way—legally.
My chicken? Doubtin’ Dave—the voice that whispers, “You’re not smart enough. You’re not good enough. You’re not fast enough.”
The odds of getting on the show were 1 in 20,000. Perfect odds for Dave to rear his beak and say:
“You’re more likely to see Bigfoot riding a unicorn!”
“You’re more likely to find a mime quoting Shakespeare!”
“You’re more likely to see the Browns win the Super Bowl!”
Dave was loud. But I kept calling.
Round One: The Call-In Phase
I never made it to the hot seat by phone.
Eventually the show moved to in-person auditions. I promised myself I’d attend any within five hours of Cincinnati or a cheap nonstop flight. And I did.
Chicago: The First Audition
Passed the multiple choice test. Filled out the short-answer form. Talked with a producer. Flew home. Waited.
No card.
Indianapolis: The Burrito of Regret
Same process. Drove home tired and hungry. Stopped at Taco Bell.
Cue Doubtin’ Dave:
“A Grande Burrito? Very professional.”
“What makes you think this audition went any better than the last one?”
“Did you study rejection in college? You’re doing a post-grad now.”
I got home at 2 a.m. I threw up at 2:15.
And I still didn’t get the card.
Cleveland: The Turning Point
The night before the Cleveland audition, I slumped on the couch and said to my wife, Beth:
“This is ridiculous. It’s a long drive. Bad hotel. No sleep. I’m not going.”
Beth looked at me calmly and said:
“This is your dream. Go for it.”
She knew it wasn’t really me talking.
It was Doubtin’ Dave.
So I went.
And I went all in—with color-coded markers, a story from my son Kenny about the “hot seat,” and enough office supplies to restock a Staples aisle.
“Daddy, You Got a Card”
A week later, Kenny called me at work:
“Daddy! You got a card! You’re in the contestant pool!”
I put him on speakerphone. The whole office erupted.
Obsession Pays (Sometimes in Cash)
Four months later, I sat in the hot seat across from Meredith Vieira.
I told her Kenny’s story.
She looked at me and asked,
“So… how are your buns doing now?”
There are thousands of past contestants.
But not many who can say Meredith Vieira asked about their buns.
Lessons From the Hot Seat
No, I didn’t win a million.
But I won $32,000, which buys a whole lot of Grande Burritos (and Pepto).
More importantly, I learned:
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Obsession beats odds.
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Action silences doubt.
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If you want to be the 1 in 20,000… you have to show up like you’re already it.
🔥 Bonus Nugget: Science Backs This Up
Angela Duckworth’s 2007 study on “Grit” (aka passion + perseverance for long-term goals) found that grit—not talent—was the biggest predictor of success. Not just in school, but in life.
You can watch her TED Talk here:
📺 Angela Duckworth: The Power of Grit
So What?
What dream have you shoved to the back of the drawer?
What goal still makes your heart beat faster—until Doubtin’ Dave shows up?
Here’s your sign: Fry the chicken. Take the shot. Obsess a little.
Because the math only matters if you stop.
When you act?
You change the odds.
Ready to chase your Millionaire moment?
Let me know what dream you’re ready to fry a chicken for.
#FryYourChickens #MillionaireStory #DoubtinDave #GritWins #ObsessionPays #KeepGoing #PhilBarth