Kermit and the Conference of Gloom

The other day I attended a conference which was, to be frank, my kind of conference.

You see, unlike many other conferences I have attended, there was no boring 1.5 hour monologue by some boooring (yes, albeit very clever) academic, waffling on ad nauseum about his or her particular bent and expecting us poor, pathetic, ignorant lay people to be similarly enchanted.

No, in stark contrast, this most recent conference was comprised of short, sharp spurts of information, delivered in neatly packaged twenty minute lots and including plenty of activities to keep us engaged and occupied.

After the conference, I commented to a colleague about my comparative enjoyment of this kind of forum to the dry ones I had previously experienced.

“So you don‘t really like the ‘adult learning model’, then?” he asked politely.
“No,” I replied honestly, “give me the ‘Sesame Street model’ any day. Short snippets of info and fun and not a wordy powerpoint presentation in sight!”

He smiled politely, no doubt ‘noting to self’ not to expect too much of me in terms of academic prowess or stickability.

But it’s true. I’m not a sticker when it comes to boring stuff. And I mean no disrespect to any speaker in saying so but, unless you keep me entertained with startling insights, humour or the odd magic trick, you can forget it. I will switch off quicker than a lightbulb in a greenie’s outhouse.

Not even some of the great orators of the world could keep my attention if it decided to so wander. For example, I can see me in biblical times with my Bedouin brain awandering. At the Sermon on the Mount, there I’d be fidgeting and checking my wrist-sundial every five shadows. Who were the Beatitudes anyway? I’d be wondering. Saint John, Paul, George and Ringo?

As Churchill delivered his moving “We shall fight them on the beaches!” speech, I’d have probably been doodling idly and wondering what was for lunch.
When JFK blasted out, “We choose to go to the moon!” I’d likely have been watching ‘Adventure Island’ (NASA’s space program not being exactly the thought fodder of most rural Australian kids).

But, oddly and in stark contrast, my attention was fully there for Lord Spencer as he railed against the paparazzi over the death of Princess Diana. It was a gut-wrenching time during which I came to better understand the pull of ordinary people towards celebrity. On the day of Diana’s funeral I sat in front of the telly and cried for six hours straight. It was both pathetic and enlightening to realise that someone I’d never met could move me so much.

Getting back to the speeches, let just me clarify one thing. If you are going to throw in a little humour, please make sure your audience will get the joke.

I recall an engineer friend who was preparing a speech for an international conference. He ran his speech past me beforehand, complete with (what he thought was) a very amusing joke. My non-amusement was palpable but I tried to cover it by suggesting perhaps I just didn’t understand engineering humour. He unfortunately didn’t take my hint to rethink his ‘joke’ and went on to include it – apparently quite unsuccessfully -- in the speech.

And so, here’s my public speaking advice in nutshell:

Keep it simple. Keep it quick. Wear a muppet costume……….. and get off as soon as possible!

OOO Boy!

A friend and I were recently discussing our wonderful police and emergency services and admiring the fantastic job they generally do in responding to all manner of crises.

During this conversation, I raised the question of how the 000 emergency hotline manages to deal with large numbers of calls, all coming in at once, such as when a major emergency like a flood, storm or fire occurs. For example, I wondered if they ‘queue’ calls or whether the calls ever go to an answering machine until an operator can get to them.

My friend (who apparently had some insight into such matters) informed me that 000 service centres generally have an ‘overflow’ system, whereby if all the lines are busy, calls are diverted to other parts of the organisation or to other ‘manned’ sites. That was a relief, as the idea of hearing a recorded message when one is in the middle of an emergency is a scary thought.

But this got me thinking about what such a scenario might look like and made me giggle. Imagine. You dial 000 and a recorded voice says something like this:

“Hi. You’ve called Triple O, the emergency specialists. Our operators are all busy dealing with someone else’s crisis at the moment, but please hold and one of our friendly team will be with you shortly.”

You then hear the piped music. ‘California Girls’ pumps chirpily through the phone before this next round of info:

“Thank you for holding. Your emergency is important to us so please keep holding. Or if you would prefer to be transferred directly to the department that deals with your specific issue, please select one of the following options:

If you have an axe-wielding maniac hacking through your flywire door, please press 1.

If there’s a seventy foot gum tree (or part thereof) imbedded in your lounge room, please press 2.

If you’re trapped by the huge huntsman spider that’s on the wall between you and the nearest exit, please press 3 (ya sook!)

If there’s a runaway car protruding from your front fence, please press 4.

If you’ve misplaced your children, please check under the beds, in the laundry basket or in your neighbour’s lounge room, then press 5.

If you’ve misplaced your husband, please check the couch thoroughly, then press 6

If you need an ambulance, please check that you have cover and, if not, take this opportunity to get some (dial 123SICK for some great February deals! Buy one paramedic and get an ashen-faced work experience kid for free!) Then press 7.

If there’s a snarling dog attached to your leg, please press 8 (and try not to yowl into the phone too much, okay?)

If the storm water drain outside your house now appears to be flowing inside your house, please press 9.

If your spa bath isn’t operating at the right temperature, please press 10.

Yes, we here at Triple O cater for ALL kinds of emergencies. No job too big or small. And yes, we DO deliver.....eventually…..

Now…. if you can just keep the compression pack on the axe wound, chainsaw the tree off your telly, flick the spider outside, hoist the car off your fence, locate the kids and hubby, drive yourself to the hospital, feed the dog something other than your shin, unplug the stormwater drain and press “On” on your spa, you can get your life back to normal and we can go back to checking out Ebay.

Thank you for calling Triple O. We really do care. Just not today.”