Thursday

Oct, 11, 2001

winging it

I am speaking to a bunch of European employees today. First thing after the introductions. Some have come a long way for this event. I'm only one piece, of course. But at 6am, I wake up and think about how I'm going to do it. I have discussed it with the organizer. I get up and get ready. I'm running a little late by then but I manage a cup of coffee or two and a little breakfast.

I have worn jeans and hiking boots. We are, after all, among friends, right? I present. Mostly without PowerPoint. Most people never do this. PowerPoints are a crutch. Nice enough but sometimes in the way. It goes OK. The guy who brought me to Europe says he wishes he'd gotten it on tape. (As evidence maybe?) Most of the time, except at the end when I popped up a couple of slides, there was just my laptop wallpaper on the screen. Showing baby Jack with his fingers on the piano keys, winging it himself in his debut on the instrument, looking supremely confident in his entertainment value.

I listen to the rest of the presenters. I listen to the lead developer present the product I've been presenting. At one stage I think that I've been telling one little lie about the product. Later, though, I find I've misunderstood him on one point. I like to tell the truth. But you have to know a lot to keep things true.

Lunch is set up in the dining room of the hotel and is pretty darn good and too much. Afternoon in the over-crowded and warm room is a little tedious but I stay with it, listening to some customer stories.

We freshen up and have dinner together. My Danish colleague tells me a lot of his family life and history with his daughter's horse riding. My English colleagues entertain with their constant banter. These guys are so much fun. Some I've known for years. A couple I've just met this trip. Cut from the same cloth, though, they are. The English guys flew to Pisa and drove over because it was cheaper. They told funny stories of the short and harrowing drive.

"First we had a drink at a bar in the shadow of the tower."

"Literally in the shadow. That was the only empty table, wasn't it?"

I think they record those English comedy shows by just recording guys and gals in pubs and streets. It isn't contagious, though. My South African friend is living there a long time now and is sweet as pie and polite enough to make his momma proud but not a constant comedian.

"Imagine there's no countries
It isn't hard to do
Nothing to kill or die for
And no religion too
Imagine all the people
Living life in peace..."

John Lennon, "Imagine"

Meta:
We'll just be keeping Lennon's radical lyrics here indefinitely. I'm updating this after the fact. Which means, of course, that I forget even more than usual.

JUST TYPING
Off the top of my head.
I find less there.
Than I once might have.