October 7, 2009

• Lessons in Public Speaking

  I was invited to speak today at a luncheon for old duffers.  I've been recording interviews with veterans for the Library of Congress (www.loc.gov/vets) and one of the vets whom I had interviewed, thought the project would be of interest to his Round Table cronies. 

  When he asked me to speak, about two months ago, I said yes, without really considering what was entailed .  I put it on my calendar and put it out of my mind.  A couple of days ago a reminder popped up that I needed to compose something but, remaining true to myself, I procrastinated until this morning.  Even then I was able to put it out of my mind and go for a bike ride.  By the time I got back I barely had time to get cleaned up and get myself down there. 

  I had produced a short movie comprised of some of the highlights of the interviews I'd done, so I figured I'd speak extemporaneously for a few minutes and then show the DVD.  As I sat waiting to be introduced the magnitude of what I had walked into hit me with full force.

  In all of my fifty-six years on earth, I have never stood behind a microphone and addressed a group of people, least of all, a group of highly educated, professional, white guys.  This was a "No girls" club.  Oh, did I forget to mention that the guy who usually set up the projector wasn't there and the stand-in dude couldn't get it to work with my laptop?  We ended up setting it up with his laptop but didn't have time to actually do a test run.

  Fortunately, Ellie, the senior center director, spoke before I did and she made it look easy.  With her sweet, mellifluous voice and raven tresses, she talked easily of her Army brat upbringing and her daughter who recently graduated from Annapolis, and soon had the room warmed up for me.

  I took the podium, refrained from confessing my inexperience figuring they could discern that on their own, and launched into my pitch.  To my astonishment, it wasn't much different from talking to a couple of people except that I had to do all the talking.  I was careful not to use "um" or superfluous words like "like" or "you know" because it drives me nuts when people like the President of the United States do that.  In his defense, he has to be much more careful how he says things, so stalling for thinking time is necessary. 

  After maybe fifteen minutes I fielded a few questions and then offered up the movie, the production of which I had labored over for many hours.  I was relieved that the room expressed eagerness to see it since I would have expected them to be getting restless and ready to head home for their afternoon nap.   I turned to the laptop, which of course had gone to sleep, and woke it up.  It yawned and scratched it's hard drive and said, "I just don't feel up to playing a DVD at this time". 

  If this had been my own laptop, I would have taken strong disciplinary action.  However, its owner stood helplessly by as if he had no control over the wayward beast.  I asked him quietly, whether he had ever used his DVD player before.  "Not that I can remember", he replied. 

  A young man from the audience stepped up to try to help as did another older gentleman.  Now here I must confess to age bias.  I'll put my trust in a twenty-something when it comes to anything computer before I will allow a septuagenarian to take over.  Color me ageist, if you will, but this case only confirmed my bias.  The avuncular gentleman proceeded to remove the pin cable (male end) and attempt to force it into the pin port on my laptop (also male).  These were not consenting males so I felt compelled to intercede.

  Long story short, we never did get it to work so my lovingly produced DVD never made it to its screening.  Now I know how those lesser known indie film makers feel. 

  Still, they were kind enough to present me with this framed certificate, despite the technical problems, which I shall treasure in perpetuity.  (I love that word "perpetuity" ever since I heard it used in Body Heat)

  • 2:23 am
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