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A
sobering experience... an article about a meeting gone wrong...
by
Patricia Fripp, CSP, CPAE
I am
a professional speaker. I am adamant about what it takes for
me to be successful. I do not accept speaking engagements
that I cannot guarantee I can do well. And I do not bomb.
Obviously, there are times in my career that I do better than
others, but I. . .DO. . .NOT. . .BOMB!
With
that preamble, let me tell you about a disastrous learning
experience. It was 1988. I was hired to speak for a vegetable
company. It turned out to be a rotten experience. The company
was a subsidiary of a major packaging company, for whom I
had successfully spoken. The vegetable company wanted to put
on a good after-dinner show because the "Big Pineapples" from
headquarters were going to be there.
You know
how it is when the boss is coming to dinner and you try too
hard to make a good impression? You prepare a ten-course meal
with four desserts. And after-dinner mint...juleps. And
the boss falls asleep...under the table...face down.
Well,
the vegetable company tried too hard, planned too many activities.
On the program, I was the equivalent of the fifth dessert,
when what they really needed was Speedy Alka Seltzer! By the
time it was my turn to speak I felt like a half-baked Alaska.
I had
met the meeting planner and sales manager from the vegetable
company a week before the event. Although I am funny, I do
not consider myself an after-dinner humorist. I asked them,
"Are you sure there's not going to be heavy drinking? Maybe
what you want is an entertaining program rather than a motivational
talk." No, they assured me that these were hard-working, sober
people who would be up at 5:30 the next morning making phone
calls. She promised me I would be on at 8 p.m. and off at
8:45, get on the bus and be back at the hotel at 9:30 p.m.
Fair enough.
On the
day of the event I drove to Monterey. I was waiting in line
for the bus for the 45-minute ride to the event site...
a WINERY! That's when it first occurred to me that there might
be a problem. After all, wineries do not make money catering
gourmet dinners. Their cash flows when the WINE flows.
When
we arrived at the winery, the group went on a tour while I
checked out the place I would be speaking. That was the next
hint of trouble. Wineries are not built for acoustics. The
walls are big wine barrels. Voices echo off them, carom off
the ceiling, and flutter to the floor...DEAD. And to top
it off, they had brought in a sound system by Mattel.
It gets
worse. I like a long cord so I can walk in and connect with
my audience. The cord provided was so short, if it were a fish
I would have thrown it back. And in a winery, unlike a hotel,
there are no extension cords.
People
came back from the winery tour and proceeded to have a wine
tasting, a cocktail party, and wonderful hors d'oeuvres. Then
they sat down for aperitifs, dinner, champagne...and drinks.
As I
wandered around mingling, which is my style before a talk,
I noticed that the vegetable men were transforming before
my eyes into stewed tomatoes. And their wives into wilted
lettuce. I've seen fresher looking things growing in my refrigerator.
At 10
minutes of 10 p.m., I sat down at a table with the president
of the company and the meeting planner who had hired me. The
"head lettuce" said (a bit slurred), "Patricia, I don't think
we need a speaker." I said, "Sir, I absolutely agree with
you. Why don't you have me stay over and tomorrow afternoon
I'll give a speech at the beginning of your sales meeting?"
He thought that was the most wonderful idea he'd ever heard.
I, of course, said, "I am the hired help, and have to do as
I am told," and I looked at the meeting planner. She said,
"No, our schedule is busy tomorrow. They'll be okay. Go on
tonight." (This is where an extension cord might have really
come in handy!)
I went
to the sales manager, who had been in on the planning meeting
the week before. I said, "Look, your president does not think
this is an appropriate time." It was obvious by then that
the vegetable crowd was pickled, potted, three beets to the
wind, and in serious danger of tossing their...salads.
He said. "No, they'll be fine." I said, "Look, I'm going to
have to cut out all this content you carefully wanted me to
put in. I am going to have to just be funny and cut it really
short." "Okay," he said, "do the best you can."
I did
the best I could under the circumstances. In other words .
. . I lived. I was done in 15 minutes. Some of the crowd missed
me completely. Others saw two of me. It evened out.
To top
it off, I had to travel back to Monterey on the bus for 45
minutes with these same drunks passing around a jug of wine
and singing "99 bottles of beer on the wall." I was convinced
I was on the "bus to hell."
I got
back to the hotel. I went to my room. I poured ten quarters
in the Magic Fingers...but I could not be soothed. I went
to sleep and had a nightmare that I was married to the Jolly
Green Giant.
I woke
up in the morning with a hangover, and I hadn't had anything
to drink! I was hung over from anger. Anger at the company
for misrepresenting the facts and putting me through that
experience, and anger at myself for not realizing earlier
that there would be problems in the set-up besides the normal
late night problems.
My friend
Jim Tunney lives in Carmel, and he met me, as planned, downstairs
for breakfast. He is a well-known motivational speaker and
a referee in the National Football League. As I described
my awful experience to him, I noticed some of the folks from
the night before breakfasting. I had no impulse to mingle.
Jim put
my experience into perspective. He told me that as a head
referee he had often been booed by 90,000 people. I said,
"Yes, but you only get booed because the call goes against
the home team, not because you mess up." He said, "Yes, but
occasionally I do mess up in front of 90,000 people." I said,
"Yes, but how can anybody be sure? Football plays are so bang-bang."
He said, "Slow-motion instant replay on the 50-foot video
screen on the stadium scoreboard." I said, "Oh, I feel better
already."
He said,
"Besides, Patricia, you and I both speak grandly and eloquently
about how there is no such thing as a failure: that we can
take any experience, no matter how dismal, and learn from
it, be strengthened by it, use it to our advantage. Why, I
wouldn't be surprised if some day you tell that awful story
and make it funny." I said, "Ha! That'll be the day."
Well,
today's the day! And the story rightfully ends with a special
to Jim Tunney, wherever you are: "Touchdown!"
(1,272
Words)
Patricia
Fripp, CSP, CPAE is a San Francisco-based executive speech
coach, sales trainer, and award-winning professional keynote
speaker. She is the author of Get What You Want!, Make
It, SoYou Don't Have to Fake It!, and Past-President
of the National Speakers Association. She can be reached
at: PFripp@Fripp.com, 1-800 634-3035, http://www.fripp.com
We
offer this article on a nonexclusive basis. You may reprint
or repost this material as long as Patricia Fripp's name
and contact information is included. PFripp@Fripp.com, 1-800
634-3035, http://www.fripp.com
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