Originally published in May 2007, this "Throwback Thursday" piece from Mike Schenker, MAS, is the fourth in a series of weekly installments of his most popular contributions to Identity Marketing from the past 20 years.
With a tip of the unimprinted headwear to Sheila E. (wherever you are), here’s the latest report on The Glamorous Life. As I write this, I am sitting in my booth in yet another convention center.
Stop right there. Go and read some back issues of this fine periodical, or pick up my new collection of previous columns entitled "Don't You Have Anything Better To Do?," and find my missive about working a trade show (June 2004 comes to mind). You'll know how I feel about sitting in my booth. It’s just not done. So what does that tell you about this show?
Believe me; I've been called on this before. People have seen me leaning in my booth (note: resting one butt cheek on your table is acceptable in the Schenker book of doing trade shows). There are simply some shows where sitting is acceptable. There are some shows where it’s all you can do to keep from curling up on your display table and falling asleep. The ones that no one is attending, for example.
How do you know when that’ll happen? You don’t. It’s a crap shoot, plain and simple. You pay your thousands of dollars in order to exhibit, and hope for the best. Some shows simply don’t draw.
I know… there are some trade show "experts” who will tell you that you, the exhibitor, have to partner with the show management in order to make the show a success. Do pre-show mailings and all that.
While I don’t disagree, sometimes show management has to accept the fact that the show is just not working. The show I’m presently doing, for example, might just turn out to be one of those instances.
So, here I sit, with plenty of time on my hands.
Last month, I'd had some interesting tales from the road, which I shared with anyone who’d listen. As most of you readers don't return my calls, I'll elaborate here and now.
I was doing yet another show, in an area with which I wasn’t that familiar. In those instances, I generally rent a car which features a GPS unit. God forbid that I stop for directions!
The car rental company's courtesy bus took me directly to my vehicle, and I loaded my gear into the trunk. When I got into the car, I noticed that the GPS unit was not there. I then had to unload the trunk and go to the service desk.
Anyone who’s ever seen "Planes, Trains and Automobiles" knows what happens next. I schlepped my bags several miles (okay… maybe the equivalent of two blocks). Unlike what happened in the movie, this rental company was apologetic, and immediately upgraded my car. Sweet.
They handed me the keys and directed me to the proper spot in the lot. Again, with bags in tow, I trudged towards my new, upgraded vehicle. If my distance viewing was correct, I was about to load all my stuff into a new Jaguar!
First things first: I made sure that the GPS unit was there. With that established, I threw my briefcase onto the passenger seat, and went around back in order to put in my suitcase and sample bag.
The suitcase fit; no problem. The sample bag, on the other hand…
No matter what I did, no matter what I tried, I couldn't get that big bag (it’s actually a large, hard-sided suitcase) into the trunk. I went so far as to take my suitcase out of the trunk and put it in the backseat (is that allowed with a Jag?), and tried and failed to get that big bag into the trunk. It was at that moment that I recognized a serious design flaw with this particular line of vehicles: no roof rack.
With tears in my eyes, I gathered my belongings and headed back to the service desk. They again apologized (a bad corporate policy, I know, but they manage to keep my business!), and then… Hammer Time!
There were no more cars on the lot that had GPS units. My only choice was (brace yourself), a Mommy Van (or, as the Trophy Wife calls them, a "Loser Cruiser"). Not seeing that I had any choice, I put on dark glasses, tucked my hair under my hat, and loaded up the van.
Now it gets interesting. I drove to my hotel, went to my room, unpacked and booted up the laptop in order to check my e-mail, after having installed my new wireless card. This is a new technology for me; be gentle.
No signal.
I called the front desk, and verified that the hotel did have wireless internet (so they claimed). After explaining that I wasn’t getting a strong signal, I asked if, in their technical opinion, a different room might get a better signal. I believe their response was, sure, why not?
Before packing all my stuff, I asked if I could go to another room and first determine whether or not it got a wireless reception. While unusual (which is redundant when dealing with me), they agreed, so I took my laptop to another room and, lo and behold… a signal!
So I packed up all my stuff and switched rooms. After unpacking, I re-booted and tried to check my e-mail. That which was sent to my personal account was getting through, but that which was sent to my corporate address (you know, orders and such?) was not.
I called downstairs again, and spoke with another person at the desk who explained that, while the hotel itself is wireless-ready, the individual rooms are not. That I was able to get a signal at all in that second room must have been as a result of my picking it up from a nearby building. If I wanted to use wireless internet access, it had to be done from the lobby.
I don’t know about you, but I can’t go too many hours without checking my e-mail. If I was going to access my mail, I’d have to go down to the lobby.
Here's an image to burn into your retinas, gentle reader: when I'm in my hotel room, I like to get comfortable. I like to work comfortably. I was very tempted to head down to the lobby, kick off my shoes, open my pants, and check my e-mail – but common sense prevailed.
I got through about one-quarter of the mail when the laptop's low battery indicator started to flash. I went to plug the computer into an outlet: none available for use. Those that could be found all had something plugged in!
There was no choice but to shut down the computer and go back to my room. From there, I called another nearby hotel. I verified that they had wireless internet access, and that said access was in each room. I then called the front desk of my present hotel and explained my dilemma.
Suffice to say, the staff on duty were already aware of me. They'd heard about my calls earlier, about my switching rooms, and had seen me pacing through the lobby wielding my laptop like a divining rod trying to find a signal. They fully understood my need to change hotels (I believe they might have welcomed it), and refused to charge me for a portion of the day (not to mention the pens, soaps and shampoos I'd taken from both rooms).
So loaded up the Loser Cruiser yet again, drove to my new hotel, unpacked for the third time in one day, kicked off my shoes, and got to work.
Further evidence of how I know how to have a good time when I'm on the road, huh?
Mike Schenker, MAS, is a promotional industry veteran and member of the Specialty Advertising Association of Greater New York (SAAGNY) Hall of Fame. He can be reached at mike@mikeschenker.com.