You can't go home again...

It was a beautiful day, one of those bright, sunny ones that you want to put in a bottle and release its contents in the winter when everything seems so dead. I was in a familiar neighborhood when my thoughts turned to an old friend who lived there.

The friend had recently come upon hard times. I recalled large laughing groups who came to his house to celebrate and to catch up on news, gossip, and sometimes do a little business. I looked forward to my visits because I knew our Host would have invited a disperse group where everyone gained something from attending.

All of that had ended. The big house that used to hold so many in tight quarters now seemed cavernous—sort of like when the kids go off to College and what seemed to be so little room was now way more than needed. It was sad.

I wondered what would become of my friend. There were rumors that he was sick, maybe even terminally so. I had heard he was moving in with a distant Cousin in Las Vegas, and I wondered how he would adjust to such a stark-looking place. I knew the Cousin as well, and while we always had a great relationship it was a challenge to see how the two of them would be able to co-exist.

My friend liked a certain crowd. The Cousin liked that group too, but not nearly as well. I imagined the awkwardness that could ensue when my friend invited a group to get together. We’d be there in this strange house in the desert, far away from the blue lake that abutted my friend’s house.

And what if the Cousin decided to invite some of his friends as well? I had come to visit the Cousin from time to time and his friends were very different. Would there be conflict? Will we be as comfortable in the Cousin’s environment?

All of that was washing over me as I stared at the big, empty house. I remembered the great times and the times that weren’t so great. About the time I was close to surrendering to my more maudlin predisposition I realized that it was all for the best. I decided to call my friend to get his take.

He told me that he saw the move to his Cousin’s house as a way to re-energize himself. A different climate might be just the tonic. He planned to take it easy for a year, and said we might have a party in a year or so. And that he was keeping the old house and hoped to hold a soiree there from time to time as well.

But he said the Fall wasn’t as attractive to him anymore—he said he was thinking about holding the get-together in the Spring, when hopes are renewed and the temperature went up instead of down. There was enthusiasm in his voice, and hopefulness.

I was relieved. Far from dying, my friend was looking to the future and to better things. The cold sting of the past few years might melt in the desert heat. And, returned to health, he would become again that which he was before.

I hope so…

Pete

As one door opens...

I'm here in Chicago, it's the night before the Motivation Show.  I'm filled with all sorts of thoughts and emotions as the venerable Mo Show prepares for its last performance in its current fall iteration. 

I have these conflicted thoughts in large part because of my experineces two weeks ago at IMEX.  You remember IMEX, don't you?  It's the place where all the travel exhibitors from the Mo Show went last year.  Nobody knew if it would be a success or a failure.  The ancedotal information said it was a success. 

Boy Howdy.  IMEX was a revelation--a return to days I barely remember existed in this business.  Where professional people made appointments, actualy KEPT them, and came to the meeting prepared to discuss opportunities where my brand was a fit and where my equity would enhance the client's event.

The energy on the floor was palpable--I had forgotten what that much "juice" felt like.  And it's all because the End User--those Albino Rhinos we all know exist but yet nobody had ever seen--showed up in force and engaged us to an extent most of us havent experienced since we abdicated the selling process to intermediaries 15 years ago. 

It was amazing--and like putting your finger in a light socket. 

Which brings me round to Chicago.  It used to be that way, when it was both floors of McCormick North.  When the established suppliers had the big booths upstairs, and the newcomers slugged it out in Wild West Show fashion in the basement.  That was Fun. 

It's not that way now.  It hasn't been that way for a long time--probably since before 2001.  I remember writing a blog post and essentially calling the Mo Show "dead"--and that was in 2009.  The once-mighty show has come to this--a shell of its former self, an emaciated remnant of what was so important to our marketplace. 

It's sad. 

I'll miss it. 

Perhaps it will rise, Phoenix-like from the ashes of its current state. 

Perhaps not. 

Maybe we're all fooling ourselves to think that our market "needs" a gathering place.  Perhaps the advent of 24/7 information flow reduces the importance of face-to-face time.  Or maybe we just need to take the moments of electricity like IMEX and accept that they are indeed the exceptions that prove the rule.

I'm here to turn out the lights.  It's a task I'm not very happy about...

Pete

The Shows Must Go On...

I'm in Chicago, about to go to a reseller's end-user show.  Next week, I'll be in Las Vegas for IMEX, the big travel incentive show.  In three weeks I'll be back in Chicago for the Motivation Show.  Then, back to Vegas (twice!) for client events.  Then to Orlando for ASI, and Vegas for PPAI, and...

STOP!!!

I thought the digital revolution was supposed to stop all this Showing.  We'd sit in our offices, connected by video and have Virtual Meetings.  Tradeshows were passe, a relic of a time when information wasn't instantaneous and relationships meant everything.   Did that get shelved along with the flying cars we were promised?

If tradeshows are out of touch you sure couldn't prove it by our business.  If you really wanted to, your feet could hurt just about every week from standing around at somebody's show.  There's national associations, regional associations, Client shows, "vertical" market shows, and God knows what else. 

Sometimes I think we're "showing" more and "selling" less.  I know, I know--going to trade shows is selling, where we meet many clients over a focused period of time.  But 15 minutes (or less--make that definitely less) standing in a booth (and scanning the aisles for other clients/friends/etc.) isn't exactly a great selling environment. 

I've always been a Curmudgeon about tradeshows.  I get the "you can see SO many more people in two days!" argument.  But Quantity needs to be balanced with Quality--There's NO way a tradeshow provides me a chance to impart the important issues of my brand.  There are too many distractions, the sensory overload limits the client's ability to absorb, and my feet hurt. 

But despite all this information at our fingers, we are having more and more shows.  I'm guessing that technology is great for what it does, but it can't replace the things we can gain meeting face-to-face.  And our business remains one of relationship-building, and that's always done better in person.  I may not love it, but I'm gonna have to start liking it because it appears they're not going anywhere (except for Vegas, where I might as well rent a place so I can feel "at home" the 30 days a year I'm out there)...

Pete