I realized last week, when I wrote about my meeting experiences, I had only touched the surface. I may have to write a book to chronicle my favorite stories. As I said, I may be one of the few humans who enjoy these gatherings.
It’s not that I’m all that great at presiding over meetings. I’ve made more than my share of faux pas. Once, while we were honoring several decades of past presidents of the Mobile Jaycees, I introduced one of the honorees as a veteran of World War I. Of course, he was a World War II veteran twenty-seven years later. I later tried to joke about my mistake, but he left immediately after the meeting. He did not appreciate the humor.
More than once, I showed up at the wrong place. When I was campaigning for president of the Alabama Jaycees, I was supposed to meet the political hack in Greenville, Alabama, to secure their blessing. I arrived early. Too early. I was patiently sipping coffee at the Holiday Inn in Evergreen, Alabama. They approved me anyway, as I arrived several minutes late.
That was far from my worst violation of the wrong venue, though.
Years ago, I drove from a meeting in Birmingham to my cousin’s after-rehearsal dinner in Mobile. I arrived at the Bienville Club in the First National Bank building in downtown. I was a little early, but the maitre’d graciously escorted me to the banquet room, where the bartender offered me a cocktail. As people began arriving, I was encouraged to have a second drink.
While I saw a few familiar faces, I assumed most of the attendees were from out of town. During my conversation, I asked my new acquaintance whether he was there from the bride’s or groom’s side of the family.
He looked at me quizzically, then said, “Are you sure you’re in the right place? This is the Christmas party for the Thames-Batre Insurance Company.”
Oops. I sheepishly backed away and over to the bartender. “I’m so sorry. I’m at the wrong event. I want to pay for my two drinks.” He just laughed and said, “Don’t worry about it. We’ll make these on the house.”
I hurried over to the after-rehearsal gathering, to which I had actually been invited at the Trade Club. I discovered that I would be the only attendee slightly “lubricated” since this was a “no-alcohol” event.
Perhaps my most memorable experience occurred during my tenure as state president of the Alabama Jaycees during our statewide quarterly meeting at the Riverview Plaza in Mobile. Our featured speaker was a National Vice President from the U. S. Jaycees. The theme for our meeting was, of course, Mardi Gras! Since we were hosting in my hometown, I invited my parents and grandmother to the Saturday Night dinner.
Our speaker was from a northern state and unaware of Mobile’s history with Mardi Gras. She was impressed, or should I say, we made an impression on her. Tradition requires that she give her keynote address first, then my speech wraps up the evening. She explained that her talk would be somewhat light-hearted and humorous. I prepared a little more serious speech.
The actual events were somewhat different.
First, let me say that several of our Mobile Jaycees were expert Mardi Gras society members and put together a venue that oozed a professional carnival atmosphere. The evening began with a traditional tableau featuring reveler-clad celebrants, complete with the appropriate music, dancing, and doubloon-tossing. To be even more authentic, the tableau lasted twice the time allotted for the evening. The bartenders worked ferociously to keep up with the demand.
Then, the “official” meeting began. The Jaycees are notorious for awards, given throughout the evening, accompanied by loud, exciting music. Suddenly, the sound of crashing dishes added to the ambiance. Someone bumped into a small table meant to help the waiter distribute the evening meal.
But, we were not through. Later in the program, several head table attendees applauded one of our award recipients. Maybe it was the alcohol or an overabundance of enthusiasm, but one of our officers managed to bump his table hard enough to overturn it and all of its glasses, plates, and food into the front row.
Once we settled down, our keynote speaker began her talk. After a few remarks about the Mardi Gras exuberance she witnessed, she settled into a more serious speech than I expected. But, still, she gave an excellent presentation.
Now, it was my turn. I had put together a great talk for the finish. Then, I decided to lighten up the mood with a few recent jokes I had discovered. Wrong move for two reasons. Number one, my wife had already warned me never to use them. She said they weren’t amusing. Second reason? The audience was already on overtime.
The first joke brought on a few boos. I couldn’t stop there, so after the second attempt at humor, the boos were demonstrably more negative. Thankfully, the prepared speech went much better, and I received a standing ovation. I’m sure my parents and grandmother were grateful for the finale.
Several months later, my speech performance reappeared at a national Jaycee meeting. Our guest speaker announced to the entire U. S. Jaycees that she had finally found someone worse than our national president at telling jokes!
Nonetheless, I still love a good meeting!
God Bless,
Tommy
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