[2003] LOSS & PORPHYRY the novels  

0034 – Part 23 -US Day Trip Meeting

At that time, to my delight, breakfast in the hotel was even more of an event in America than it was in England. Even though I normally limited myself, in a near futile gesture at a diet, to muesli and black coffee, I secretly coveted a good English breakfast. I indulged in one whenever I could, arguing that it was included in the hotel price and not to take it was a waste. Today though, with my internal clock thrown totally out of kilter, even I could not face the plate of food, complete with mounds of 'hash brown' potatoes and bigger than I would normally expect for dinner, that my companions were attacking with relish. Even less could I face the waffles with maple syrup and a side order of crispy fried bacon, which seemed to be almost as popular. But, following the plentifully provided advice of my American colleagues, I tentatively ordered Eggs Benedict on muffins. It was, I soon discovered, delicious; and I decided that the day had got off to a good start.

The convention itself was a collector's item; where I had attended sufficient European sales conventions to appreciate the finer points of such undertakings. This one was different to any I had experienced. Most of the several hundreds of IBM employees attending it were shop-floor workers, not the cynical salesmen I was used to mingling with on such occasions. This was their first convention, and they had not yet learnt that hard-bitten cynicism. Instead there was an air of carnival; a raucous determination to enjoy themselves.

The 'entertainment' was less lavish than I was used to at such events, but the audience was determined to enjoy what there was; especially as it was on company time. The guest speaker was mildly amusing, as his role demanded. It was a brave guest speaker who actually tried to say anything significant at such an event. I had only ever seen Peter Ustinov try it, and even he had larded it with anecdotes. The present speaker, inevitably, took the easy way out. But his anecdotes were acceptably amusing, and the audience appreciatively laughed at each of them.

The next speaker was one of IBM's own research scientists; one who was renowned for his wit - and the frequently barbed nature of it. He was particularly known for his disregard of the sensibilities of senior management. It was thus a brave, and possibly foolish, decision to expose his wit to such an audience. As the audience as a whole seemed to hold its collective breath in anticipation of indiscretions to come, I watched the general manager who was sitting just in front of me. His hands gripped the arms of his chair, with a painful tension; the knuckles whitening as each progressively risque anecdote reached its peak. The stories, of the byzantine internal politics of the group, were very funny in their own right. As told, with perfect timing for the throwaway lines, they were hilarious. They were also true, as most of the audience knew, which made them even funnier and the general manager's knuckles even whiter. There was a roar of applause when the last anecdote was complete; and, in his relief that the previous speaker had not told the most damaging stories after all, the general manager relaxed so much that he nearly slipped out of his chair.

It was, in fact, the general manager's turn to speak next. His own speech was worthy, if dull; but that was always the fate of such speakers, who had to return their listeners to the humdrum world of daily work. It finished with a tribute to each and every department which had contributed to the previous year's successes; a eulogy, listing the minutiae of their dedication - 'we all remember how the shipping department managed, by superhuman exertions, to get out the order for the Mid-West despite the six feet of snow that had blocked all the roads for miles around'. As each department was called they stood en-masse and cheered wildly, as each detail of their 'devotions' was retailed to their surrounding colleagues. It was an alien experience for me, brought up in a less extrovert European atmosphere. Such things did not happen in the United Kingdom. But the pure enthusiasm of the participants infected me too. There was no denying these Americans their hard-earned moment of triumph.

Finally came the turn of the international community, and with it myself; eventually rising to face the applause - 'representing one of our new offshoots, all the way from the old world, from England....' This was what I had travelled some 3,000 miles for! I could not deny the enthusiasm of the workforce, and supported anything that would maintain that invaluable enthusiasm; but I still felt that a cardboard cut-out might have done the job just as well.

I managed to duck out of the rest of the day's festivities; indulging in a series of illicit meetings with the key managers that I managed to extract briefly from the convention. Bit by bit, I concluded enough items of business to make my trip worthwhile after all. I resolved many of the outstanding technical questions; face to face with the technical experts who had designed and built the machines. I left these various meetings with a degree of confidence that the launch would now proceed reasonably smoothly.

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