This time I kept my scarf!

THIS TIME I KEPT MY SCARF

Just about a year ago this time I had a business meeting in Manhattan. My friend and business associate Oscar asked me to spend some time with him at The Roosevelt Hotel [1]in Midtown Manhattan. He was staying there, and wanted to meet in the lobby bar area.

If that sounds strange to you, please understand that in Manhattan there are countless meetings at sitting areas in hotel lobbies, often in little bars within the confines of the lobby area. Of course, this also takes place in professional meetings, conventions and downtown and/or airport hotels all over the world.

To some, the concept of meeting at a bar seems an odd thing. Others may perceive it as the convergence of drinking and expense accounts, and no real business in fact occurring, at all.

My Diabetes [2] keeps me from drinking alcohol, so when I meet anyone at a bar, it is generally for water, a diet soda, or hot tea. I may have a beer at a microbrewery every here and there. And I have indulged in Sake [3] at a Sushi meal, but for the most part, alcohol and I are strangers. In truth, I only really miss Sake, the occasional Frangelico [4], and those times when I would enjoy some Laphroaig [5] or other such single malt Scotch [6].

At some future date, when my blood sugar, weight, cholesterol, and long-term-sugar retention levels have all been at proper levels for a long enough period of time, I may yet be able to resume some limited enjoyment of all of these spirits. In moderation, of course. Providing me with strong encouragement in this hope are my doctor, the dietician, and The American Diabetes Association. Balance and moderation, once all those test levels have a trend of 9+ good months, and a good cigar will be accompanied by some Frangelico. A sushi meal might be complemented by Sake. And there are those special moments when would I break out the Laphroaig.

But back to the point. I digress. As I was saying. . .

Last year when I met Oscar at the Roosevelt, we had our meeting. It was a bitter cold Winter afternoon. I was bundled up in my winter coat, and had worn a scarf I'd just recently acquired. Since Oscar and I are friends as well as business associates, the lovely Susan (see her in a heavenly picture here [7]) was going to join us at The Roosevelt, say hello to Oscar, and then she and I would leave together. Oscar asked us if we'd join him for dinner that night, but Susan and I had already made plans.

That was the setting, that cold afternoon-evening about a year ago.

Oscar mentioned, toward the end of our meeting, that another associate of his would be coming by. This was a fellow Telecom entrepreneur, and Oscar had been trying to arrange a meeting between us for some time. As if on cue, moments later this fellow arrived. Also present at that time were some other associates of ours, some of Oscar's partners, and a hotel lobby full of people. It was after 5PM by this time, and the place was packed with people returning to the hotel, and others coming to have after-work meetings at this very pleasant and centrally located meeting place.

Note to readers: some server trouble prevents me from uploading the rest of this post. Hang on, check back. It'll make it up there yet! Thanks. If more content follows this note, then we finally got past the server snafu!

Picture this: a lobby bar, a frigid Winter temperatures, every little table seating area packed with people, their briefcases, their coats, and whatever else they might have shlepped along. But the key, here, is the layers and bundles of outer clothing being piled on a spare chair, a ledge by one's booth, or over the nearby rail (the bar is elevated a few steps from the general common area in the hotel lobby).

It was a good meeting. As Oscar predicted, this other fellow and I had much to discuss, opportunities and deal-making seemed a strong possibility. If nothing else, it was good to know each other, to meet in person after having heard so much about the other from Oscar for quite a while.

Susan arrived a little later. She and I decided to go to dinner, leaving Oscar to continue with his marathon of meetings. The other man also decided to leave at the same time.

We all gathered up our belongings. I had my coat, my scarf and hat, my briefcase. I think I also had an umbrella. Susan had her coat, hat, scarf, and two canvas carry bags with various and sundry items, including an umbrella. The other fellow had his coat, hat, scarf, umbrella, briefcase, and who knows what else.

You get the picture: Winter bundles and assorted paraphernalia. All of our stuff was strewn about this little alcove table area, and the coats were on a ledge behind the table in the alcove.

When we got to our destination, Susan and I both realized we had the wrong scarves. She had one, a nice black lambs-wool scarf. I had a different one than the one I'd worn, also a black scarf, but not the one I'd just purchased. Neither of us, though, had the scarf we'd worn when we entered the hotel.

The next day the other fellow sent me an e-mail, asking if I (or maybe Susan) had taken his scarf by accident. I thought this must be the case, either Susan or I had his scarf, and he had mine. This means that one other scarf was also missing, but we would only be able to account for two of them. So I called him, and we compared notes.

He described his missing scarf. I described my missing scarf.

Neither of us, it seemed, had the other one's scarf! And no, Oscar told me, no-one from his group had mentioned a missing scarf, or having ended up with one other than the one they'd brought.

Yes, an unsolved Manhattan Mystery: The Case Of The Missing Scarves.

Fast forward to January, 2001.

This afternoon, as fate would have it, another Winter day, another meeting with Oscar at the Lobby Bar at The Roosevelt, and Susan joined us afterward. A group of eight of us went to dinner at a wonderful Thai-Vietnamese restaurant, and then we went our various separate ways.

As it happens, I recalled the scarf mystery of a year ago. As our evening was ending, I asked Susan if she had the right scarf. Indeed, she did. As did I.

History, this time, did not repeat itself.

Maybe we should have gone to dinner with Oscar last year, and then everyone would have had gone home with their original scarves.
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A DELIVERY SYSTEM FOR MUSINGS

Only on a weblog could I actually muse about this, comfortable in the knowledge that if this little recounting bored you to no end, you could just click away to some other site. It feels much better than, say, when I was on the radio. If you clicked away then, it was bad for ratings.

Ratings were once a way of life for me. Not so, anymore. But, to be honest, I do check the number of hits this blog gets, and it thrills me to see the numbers climb. Keep coming back!

And be sure to interact. You can post comments, too. That's another difference between the interactive open net, and traditional broadcast media.

Interactive, interconnected, and freedom of choice. Wonderful things, and not at the mercy of sponsorship, censors, mercenaries or maniacs. Interactivity and the many-to-many plus one-to-one combination are the hallmark of the changes in reach and communication.

No need to be at your monitor at 8PM or 10PM on "must view Thursdays." No need to time-shift on the net. A site is a site, it is there and it remains. Many time-sensitive content sites maintain archives (except the New York Times, with that fishwrapper fee, a charge for yesterday's news!). There to be received (or interacted with) on the individual's timetable.

Oh, how this goes against the traditional advertiser and mass marketer grain. A public, a demographic, a user group, a target audience...which comes and goes as it so chooses! This runs counter to nearly every advertising and marketing strategy I've ever heard.

Sure, events (concerts, recitals, speeches, performances) can be staged and not archived. The sense of "being there now" might be lost on some. But there's a bright side. If a Pavaratti fan wants to take in a webcast, there are ways to capture this. Maybe they miss being there at the real-time moment of the event. But they are, indeed, able to enjoy it.

Advertiser message and methods will change, too. The ability to zap past intrusive, content-halting, messages is even greater wehen one views a captured file-ized event. So in lieu of annoying ads (or entertaining ones, be honest!) the sposnorship must become a part of the event. This may mean a backdrop across the stage with a Diet Soft Drink logo. Or a mike clip bearing a beverage's name.

The net, like many forms of broadast with secondary, tertiary channels available, can offer subtitles, info crawl, pop-up windows with expansion...and other links. The advertiser/sponsor message can be ingratiated into these facilities.

These resources are harder than ever to monitor from a usage point of view, as the hardware and software continuously evolve. The old-paradigm advertising community is conditioned to place schedules in mass audience targeted media. You can count on youth demos watching MTV. You can count on older demos watching CNBC. You can count on a more educated consumer reading certain print media.

But you can't use these happenstance net captures with too much trending information...because the change is constant. It morphs. It evolves. It grows.

This is the delivery system of the future. And the future is now. Right here. This moment, unfolding, evolving, morphing before our very eyes, ears, monitors and keypads.

It is truly a good thing.