Puzzling Over Failure

I've been on a lucky streak lately, but it wasn't always this way.

I'm no stranger to losing. I'm well-acquainted. In fact, for awhile, I was getting tired of his company. My junior year was the apex. At that time, I endured a series of setbacks that when retold in succession would put me in the running to win me a rent-controlled apartment. Among them: That spring I applied to be a resident adviser in the dorms. I had been sure and assured of getting the job. Then I was flatly rejected. Nearly concurrently, my heart was broken for the 19th time, by a girl I shouldn't have liked anyway. She started dating a friend of mine instead.

We've all seen the drawing of the frog in the crane's mouth. We've all heard the Chumbawumba song about getting back up after falling down. We've seen the Dwayne Wade Nike commercials, too. No doubt there's something noble in remaining resolute, despite multiple failures. But that nobility, at least in sports, history and fiction, is reliant on eventual success. And we all know, it doesn't always come.

That junior year, 20 years old, I had nearly had enough. I had always been a reluctant risk-taker, and now I was in danger of giving it up altogether. And then, on a placemat in a pizza joint, I read the story of H.R. Puzowski.

Puzowski was a 17th century Polish inventor who despite constant, crushing failure, never gave up. Legend has it that he lived on perogies in a rickety shack, spending a modest family income only on inventing. Lore says he created over 6,000 inventions, none of them famous, useful or successful. Prototypes and sketches for the Electric Rubber Ducky, Sandwich Maker and Inflatable Pencil verify that his failures were not unjustified.

But it was the Automatic Picture Framer that led Puzowski into the immortality of grease-stained placemat legend. Now, you may be thinking to yourself, 'I've never heard of the Automatic Picture Framer!' No worries; I'd be surprised if you had! That's because the failure of the Framer led to the lone success of Puzowski's life.

It was the winter of 1689. He had spent many months working on the Framer and was finally ready for a trial run. In theory, the device would mount a picture on heavy board, trim it, add a thin pane of glass and then assemble a frame around the edges. Puzowski had chosen one of his favorite photos, a scene of 5 Pembroke Welsh Corgi puppies frolicking in a field of daisies. But, as was usual for his inventions, something went wrong. The picture was mounted without difficulty, but the trimmer went haywire, cutting jagged swaths through the photo. When it finally stopped, the machine upturned itself and crashed to the floor. The puppies and daisies were in approximately 1,138 odd-shaped, scattered pieces.

But, as you could probably guess, H.R. Puzowski's mama didn't raise him to be no quitter. He still believed the Framer could work, so he set about preparing it for a second trial. And he loved that Corgi picture so much, was determined to repair it. Though initially in a foul mood, he soon found himself delighted by the challenging-yet-leisurely activity of putting the pieces back together.

By now you know where this is going. Puzowski had created the world's first picture puzzle, and it would go on to delight children and shut-ins around the globe for years to come. And this success came out of sheer drive and determination, with a dash of stupidity thrown in. Puzowski lived a long time after, and he continued to fail long into his late 70s. Life was not as easy to solve as one of his addictive puzzles. It rarely is, for anyone.

The poet John Keats wrote: "I was never afraid of failure; for I would sooner fail than not be counted among the greatest." H.R. Puzowski was far from the greatest at anything. He's not even history's biggest failure. But that doesn't mean we can't learn from his example.