The meeting started out just like every previous meeting: Someone in a position of authority started a monologue, lightly sprinkled with humor, that reiterated information I’d already read in a hundred emails and a dozen conference calls.
The venue was different, a newish mid-town hotel, which I hoped would translate into a more creative breakfast offering. Nope, no breakfast food whatsoever, but plenty of free bottled water.
I settled into my banquet-style seat and tried to look interested as the first speaker started in with her slides and laser pointer. I was suddenly inspired with an idea. I looked at the wall clock in anticipation of the first break. One hundred agonizing minutes later, I rushed to the hotel lobby, found a comfortable seat, thanked God for the internet and smart phones, and made this:
I returned to my plastic table in triumph. The internet, at least, knew my pain. As the next speaker droned on, I looked around the room and took pity on my coworkers — well, most of them. I had no pity for the ones diligently taking notes on the information they failed to read in emails all month. Besides, they seemed happy. But the others, the doodling, water bottle label peeling, gazing out the window people — my people — I could not forget them.
My full bladder provided an excuse to revisit the bathroom. Five minutes later, I tagged them with this:
I went back to my table in secret triumph, pondering my next move.
I listened for a few minutes and tried to stay engaged but it was hopeless. All I could think about was the next meme. There was nothing else to cling to among the flotsam and jetsam of the corporate trainer’s cliched monologue. Oh, to hear a speaker with a new approach, something creative, some information I haven’t read in emails. Instead, she discussed our company’s next big thing, which just so happened to be the same old thing we always seemed to do, which led me to make this:
We broke for lunch — cold cut sandwiches and mini bags of chips, not too shabby as far as meeting food goes. An hour after lunch, I was praying for a power outage, an evacuation, a bomb scare, anything.
But just as I had given up all hope, and was leaning hard on the last few ounces of lukewarm Folgers in the carafe to keep me awake for the final presentation the most unexpected thing happened. Are you familiar with The Impressive Clergyman?
The new speaker sounded exactly like The Impressive Clergyman from The Princess Bride. It was fabulous. I looked around and nobody seemed to understand the amazing moment we were witnessing. I loved this man from the first word. I was on the edge of my seat listening to every glorious thing he said. Even the data on market saturation and expense accounting was like poetry.
Oww newest featuwres will wevowutionize the expewience, especiawwy fwor intawnationaw twavewewrs.
Yes! Yes, they will revolutionize the experience for international travelers. Thank you, sir, for coming to tell me about them. I want to hear more!
The meeting ended and still nobody seemed to understand, not even those whom I thought were my people. It didn’t matter, I was elated.
Every hour had been worth that final payoff, like Andy Dufresne in The Shawshank Redemption, finally emerging from a mile long crawl inside a sewer pipe in his dramatic escape from prison, spinning in a glorious rain that washed him clean.
I have never been in a meeting that conveyed information that could not just as easily have been communicated in an email. Perhaps your meetings are different, and they allow your team to connect in ways that seem unattainable in any other way. Okay, I don’t want to pass judgement on your methods.
However, I will say this: In your meetings, if you find your people looking at the clock, their phones, or just off into space, or if you notice them making doodle marks on the hotel stationary and eyeing the coffee pot like a hungry young man stares at a fast food menu, or if you find yourself tagged in memes like the ones above across social media, you just might need to find yourself someone like The Impressive Clergyman to deliver your message.
Your team will still probably not remember a word he says, but you will bring a glimmer of joy into their weary spirits. At least, until you call the next meeting.