Showing posts with label motivational speaker. Show all posts
Showing posts with label motivational speaker. Show all posts

Friday, July 1, 2016

4 days, 3 talks, 3 results


I had three speaking engagements in the last five days and I’m now optimistic I’ll one day soon drive a car with a functioning air conditioner.

That’s been a problem. My vehicle is an heirloom Saturn Vue, 2007, and it’s bit-by-bit falling apart.

I’m like that, too, so I’m still partial to it.

We’re conditioned to think running a car without self-cooling is akin to self-waterboarding. Really, it’s not as bad as you think. 

People who think it must be horrendous mostly fail to understand that car windows roll down at places other than fast food drive-thus.

So I park in the shade, drive in the fast lane and let the wind do its work.

Note: if your AC breaks, it helps to keep a nice tight hair cut.

I had three presentations this week and some of you might be interested in how they went.

Well, they all were exceptional, but for different reasons.

The first was Monday evening at City Books on Pittsburgh’s North Side. I was aggressive in promoting this one on the blog and social media and I’m now more than ever convinced social media only works only if you’re named Kardashian.

Just six people showed up.

And I was one of the six!

The owner and her husband were two of the others.

A sweet local couple walked in off the street and so did John McIntire.

So in the crowd was at least one celebrity! John is a friend who hosts scintillating talk shows on KDKA radio and does local stand up comedy. I was very pleased to see him walk through the door.

This was my first reading for “Last Baby Boomer” so it was, in fact, my first reading ever.

All my other talks are basically monologues. I don’t read much at all from the “Crayons” book because it’s mostly a list of stuff.

I decided a nimble mingle would work best. So I’d read from a chapter and then intersperse some personal talk about the roll dark humor plays in brightening my life.

And I sweated profusely the whole time. It was very warm and I was nervous. It’s much more difficult to try and entertain five people than it is 250.

But it went well. Despite the low turnout, it was a key event because the next day I’d be in Wheeling at the Ohio County Public Library doing the same thing before 70 people.

John — and I can count on him for bracing honesty — said the presentation was good, but I read too hastily and should have emoted more.

What buoyed me, too, was how much every — all five of ‘em — had enjoyed the actual readings from “Last Baby Boomer.” They laughed out loud often. I was thrilled to learn how much the book connects to a live audience.

So I was very confident, bold even, on Tuesday in Wheeling. 

I did a brief intro then brashly went right into the the first of four substantial readings.

It was at first a mistake. I asked an enthusiast later how I could improve the talk and she said, “The first reading was too abrupt. You need to inform the audience you’re going to read and then talk some. It turned out to be a perfect mix, but when it seemed like you were going to read for the full hour everyone got very afraid.”
Well, it became one of the best reactions I’ve ever received. They just loved it.

I’m thrilled it went over so well and will now begin aggressively promoting more readings apart from “Crayons!” motivational gigs.

I am jazzed.

Thursday was a “Crayons!” presentation where everything that could have gone wrong did. It was a South Hills men’s social club held on the awninged porch of the TGIFridays near South Hills Village. 

The setting was horrendous. It was in the parking lot. Ambient music was playing. Landscapers were mowing the trim. And the audience was intimidatingly affluent — a bunch of really rich guys.

And I killed it.

They loved my talk.

Working without notes, I on the spot boiled my normally hour-long talk down to the five of the most colorful people I knew.

It couldn’t have gone better. I know it goes well when attendees come up and say I would be a stand-up comic. That happened.

Plus, a man renowned as a talent evaluator issued heady praise.

“You were excellent. Very enjoyable.”

He was Tom Donohoe (above), director of football operations for the Pittsburgh Steelers from 1991 through ’99.

Retired Pens GM Eddie Johnson was there, too. It was a great crowd. Johnson, by the way, said the greatest player who ever lived wasn’t Mario Lemieux, Sidney Crosby or even Wayne Gretzky.

It was Bobby Orr.

They bought a ton of books, too.

So it was a great week and leaves me convinced all the arrows are pointing up.

It’s so encouraging I’m thinking I just might do something drastic.

I’m thinking about getting the AC fixed!



Monday, January 19, 2015

My Saturday speech? A surprising sell out


I had my best speaking engagement this weekend if for no other reason I’ll now know where to go if my wife ever changes the locks for a laundry list of reasons, not the least of which being her desire to reduce the time she spends doing laundry.

Mt. Pleasant, here I come!

The sensational YouTube clips of me speaking or joking around about speaking are starting to stir interest in people who book speakers.

One of these interests asked me to forward a list of all my speaking engagements from the past year. There were more than 30 of them.

The crowds ranged from 250 at West Virginia University to absolute zero at the venerable Carnegie Library in Oakland.

The link is below, but I’ll share one anecdote from that humiliation, one that was so thorough I found it perversely enjoyable.

The organizer apologized profusely saying she couldn’t understand why no one had shown up. “Why,” she said, “last week’s speaker drew an enthusiastic crowd of more than 60 people.”

What, pray tell, was the topic?

“How to raise chickens in your home.”

I thought of that embarrassment when I walked into Leo & Sons Grille 31 in Mt. Pleasant and saw where I’d be speaking. It was fraught with pitfalls.

Now, we love Leo’s. It has great food, bountiful salad bar, and a conventional drinker’s bar with bit windows looking out on Main Street. It’s a fantastic place for a drink and a bite to eat. But a lousy place to hear a guy like me shouting about the benefits of using all the crayons.

And shout I did.

I had to. The acoustics were terrible. Music was playing over the speaker system — at one point I realized I was competing with The Stones’s “Satisfaction” — and my audience was from a demographic known to struggle with hearing.

They were the local Women’s Saturday Afternoon Club, a more than 100-year-old social organization dedicated to celebrating the joys of learning. Many of the members were elderly.

But that wasn’t all.

In addition, there were about a dozen disinterested people in the bar area. There were couples, families with kids, and buddies out to watch college basketball. No one in history has ever said, “Hey, let’s go to that friendly corner tavern and grab a bite. If we’re lucky, maybe some guy will be there trying to sell us his self-help book!”

All the elements were there for everyone to tune me out, or for me to go diva and take a pouty hike.

Here’s what I did: I instantly chucked my usual speech, the one with so many heart-warming anecdotes. I decided instead to ignore the audience that paid for me to be there and address the ones who were pissed that I was even there at all.

I just told joke after joke. I tried to fill the room with laughter.

And I did.

I don’t think the extemporaneous speech I gave is nearly as good as the one I usually give, but I learned when the situation demands just being funny is enough.

Because those dear ladies just loved me.

They laughed at all my jokes, stayed fully attentive and surprised me at the end with a wonderful ovation.

Then they lined up to buy books.

And I sold out. The last person in line got the last book. Twenty books, gone like that.

Even better was the complimentary reaction. They said they loved my speech and I was one of the better speakers they’ve ever had. Many bought multiple copies, took business cards and said more sales and speaking opportunities were in store.

Best of all, the bartender said I was a hit. “We thought you were going to be a bore. But you’re a real hoot. Very funny.”

It was all very satisfying.

And now I’m grateful a guy who got shown up by expert home-chicken raiser didn’t lay an egg.


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