Observations from Indianapolis

I figured I'd give this a boring title since it's such a boring place! What could be more boring about attending a conference in Indianapolis…how about if that conference was for a software used for sending out email newsletters/marketing? Yeah, you’re already asleep, huh? Anyway, I’m doing such a thing right now, and here are a few observations, which I’ll try to make as interesting as possible. And I’ll finish bit, with my great story about something that happened at BWI.

The Indianapolis airport has something hanging from the ceiling (at least in the terminal that I was in) that looks like art inspired by jellyfish, perhaps. I find this odd given that Indianapolis is pretty much NOWHERE near the ocean. Okay, you say, perhaps they want to inspire thoughts of the ocean, but….to who? People visiting, who may be coming from the coast? That would be odd. People coming home, who likely just got home from someplace nicer than Indianapolis – perhaps the ocean! Again, doesn’t make sense, unless you want to remind them of how much better life could be elsewhere. But regardless…no one wants to think of nasty, awful jellyfish when thinking of the ocean anyway. It is just really out of place. Imagine flying to the Bahamas and they have cows hanging from the ceiling at the airport. (Ah, yes they are jellyfish….just confirmed online. Here’s a pic.)

Entering White Castle is nowhere near the magical and enlightening experience I was sure it would be. Wandering around town, lost as usual, I had decided I needed to ask someone where the convention center is and began to search for a nice-looking establishment where I could do so. Then….it appeared before me, an oasis of wonderment in an urban environment lacking in aesthetics…the mythical burger place, even the topic of epic movies! I entered happily, knowing the royal subjects of the burger kingdom at this castle would help me find my way to my destination!….only to realize that it was just like any other urban fast food establishment: three steps above complete anarchy both among customers and employees, dark, dingy, and probably moderately dangerous. I left, dispirited.

I’m sitting in a big ballroom (there are 1,300 registrants) and we’re waiting for the CEO to kick things off. They try to turn this into a high-energy, exciting thing, with multiple large screens up, all flashing “hip” images and words, with loud rock music playing and lights flashing. Did I mention this is an email newsletter software? Lipstick on a pig, right? It’s just silly. The CEO gives his talk and starts with major excitement about how the conference is SOLD OUT! And the entire room starts clapping. ??? I was puzzled by this. You’re applauding yourselves for forking over $1200? Do you really care if it’s sold out, or do you feel somehow vindicated that you were not alone in your decision to attend the conference? What if you were sitting in a McDonalds…you know what, let’s say White Castle. You’re sitting in a White Castle and the manager comes out and says, “Folks, we’re completely out of sliders because you’ve purchased them all.” Would you applaud and participate in some bizarre self-back-slapping? I’m suspicious about the whole “sold out” thing anyway….they said last year’s conference was sold out. I’m guessing, given that we’re filling up about 1/10th of the convention center/Westin Hotel, that they could have accepted as many attendees as they wanted, and were going to say it was “sold out” pretty much regardless, to generate some sense of urgency for next year or some sense of accomplishment.

As people filed into this room, the floor shook – a natural response to that many people walking around in one place. But it shook excessively…so much that it made me – someone who has always had an irrational fear of structural collapse – slightly unnerved. Apparently it had the same effect one of the guys behind me who would not stop talking about it to his buddy. This guy, however, to judge by his hacking, had bigger things to worry about, like maybe some hybrid H1N1-tuberculosis thing. He just coughed and coughed and coughed… I wonder if such a hybrid disease did exist if the media would hype it as “swine consumption.” Catchy disease name, if you ask me, and you heard it hear first.

I’m having a pretty dry lunch and am trying to make conversation with two women sitting on either side of me who work together…the conversation is about as dry as the food but they work for an insurance company in Cincinnati and perfectly fit my stereotypical image of people in that industry and people from Ohio. But one of my failings (maybe not the right word) is that during painful pauses and silences in conversation, I get anxious and try to fill them. So I keep asking questions, even when perhaps it’s best we sit in silence. Here’s an example of the dialogue today:
Me: And where are you from originally?
Joan: Columbus.
SILENCE
Me: (tells funny story about what the cop who pulled me over for speeding near Columbus said to me as I pulled away)
Joan: (a lip quiver that might have been a smile)
SILENCE
Me: So you’re a lifelong Ohioan
Joan: No, I live across the river now.
SILENCE
Now, I’m blessed with enough geography knowledge to know this means she lives in Kentucky, and about four jokes one could make about Kentucky all pop into my head, screaming to be said, but I resist, knowing they’ll be lost on Joan. Her statement – which shows her worldview ends somewhere just beyond the Ohio River - confirms the provincial mindset and dullness of people both in the insurance industry and in Ohio.

Malcolm Gladwell unfortunately no longer looks like this, which is quite an entertaining look, I’m sure you’ll agree. He’s tamed the jewfro quite a bit. Also unfortunately, he has mastered the art of collecting a big speaking fee ($10,000, perhaps?) for just showing up and basically giving a summary of his book! Already read the book? Too bad, here it is in audio form. I imagine if you listened to the audio book version you’d REALLY feel cheated by his speech. At the end he gave barely a passing thought of relating his talk to the conference topic, with a scant, half-hearted couple of sentences of, “So…you can all do this too…” I liked the talk overall, but that makes sense...since I liked the book. Sheesh. Good work, if you can get it.

The water here sucks! It’s very, very soft – I’m glad I don’t have much hair to wash. It also tastes awful. “It’s like that all over the Midwest,” Joan’s colleague says, one of their few contributions to the conversation.

Okay – BWI story. I approach the security queue at BWI and there is a woman standing at its entrance, looking behind me, as though looking for someone. She is about 45, moderately attractive, slightly haggard looking. As I’m about to enter she also does, ahead of me, all the while looking back. We catch up to the end of the line and she says that I can go around her and then says she’s there to pick up a child and that she is supposed to meet him as he gets off the plane but she’s not sure how to get back there. I can tell during this brief interaction that she is LOADED. Not real tipsy on her feet, but one of those don’t-strike-a-match-near-her situations with alcohol coming off her breath in heavy waves. I tell her I’m not real sure what she should do. She starts to walk away and then comes back and says, “Will you remember me?” I kinda know what she means…she wants to leave the line and get back in her spot and I really don’t want to have anything to do with this situation, especially given her state. So I say, “Well, you would have to do something memorable,” which would usually confound a drunk. She, however, after a muddled-thought pause, leans forward and kisses me on the lips. I’m somewhat surprised by this and don’t know how to react and she says, “So when I come back,” and she slips her arm into mine, “I can say that I’m with you.” I say that that’s fine, hoping she doesn’t come back, and she trots off. The girl in front of me had a look on her face that must have matched mine and I said, “Could you smell the booze on her???” I then added that I hoped SHE is not driving the child she is picking up. The girl in front of me said it best by adding, “There just so much wrong with that whole situation.” And no, in case you’re wondering, she never did make it back to the line, much to the chagrin, I think, of the girl in front of me, who seemingly wanted to observe the next odd thing this woman would do and kept looking for her and giving me these "you better watch out" looks. I can just imagine what would have happened if she had gotten back by the time I had to take off my shoes and belt!