Guest Speaker Extrodinaire

Because I recently wrote and published a book on the smallest and most unique quail in the world; Chinese Blue Breasted Quail, I was asked to be the featured guest speaker at a Bird Club.

The town that I was to speak in is about a 4 hour drive from our home. Since we were unfamiliar with the town, the club's representative, Karen, suggested we come a bit early and meet at a local restaurant on the main highway. She said the club would be honored to buy my husband,Bruce and me dinner prior to the meeting.

Locating the restaurant and meeting up with Karen, sounded simple enough. Since since she was in the process of moving she told us to look for a white pick-up with miscellaneous household belongings piled in it. She also said we should look for a "Mutt and Jeff" combination because she was very short and she would be bringing another club member who was very tall. To further simplify things she said the tall woman, named Jane, would be walking with a cane. What could be easier?

Since it was a long trip and we were still a bit shaky about the exact location of the restaurant, we left a bit earlier than needed. Which of course meant we arrived 30 minutes early and found the restaurant without any trouble. That's just the law of nature with things like that. We were to meet the club ladies at 5:30. It was 5pm on the dot.

At 5:15 we saw a solitary tall woman, using a cane,walking toward the door of the restaurant. She was looking around as if she was searching for someone, so we jumped out of the truck and rushed toward her. As we anxiously approached we asked "Are you Jane?." As it turned out, she wasn't Jane, and there was a brief moment when the cane came up off the ground in a manner that suggested she might swing it at us.

We retreated to the safety of our truck and waited, and waited and waited. Finally at 5:50 a white pick up truck struggling under the weight of what appeared to be an entire houseful of boxes and furniture raced madly into the parking lot. A short woman exploded from the drivers side and literally ran toward the restaurant's door. Catching up to her just inside the restaurant we confirmed it was indeed Karen, and introduced ourselves. Jane, the tall lady with the cane, was a no-show.

It was a delightful dinner over which we exchanged pleasantries and talked about various types of birds. After dessert and coffee the water dropped off the bill and Jane presented him with a plastic card. The waiter scrutinized it, shook his head and explained they didn't accept debit cards. Since that was the only card Karen had...we paid for the meal.

Once outside, Karen said we should follow her to the community center where the bird club met and where my speech would be delivered. Now you would think that the deal with the debit card would have been a glaring signal telling us that the rest of the evening was not going to go well, but we laughed it off and started off in pursuit of Karen's truck. By then it was getting dark, so we were tracking her tail lights, and trying to keep her mound of belongings in sight.

Karen, who was obviously used to rush hour driving, wove in and out of traffic like the Tasmanian Devil. I did a fairly good job of keeping up with her until a very large truck cut me off, and we completely lost her. She had given us vague (very vague) directions before leaving the restaurant. Fortunately, by pure blind luck and multiple random turns, we happened upon the community center about 7pm

Karen was inside calmly sipping coffee. Swell. She introduced us to the clubs president and secretary who informed us the power point projector was mysteriously not working, but added that they had called for a back up unit which would arrive well before my talk which was scheduled to begin at 7:30.

By 8:10 the back-up unit had not arrived and people were getting restless. Maybe it was just my nerves, but I was sensing a riot or a massive walk-out. At 8:15 the club president suggested a break for coffee and cookies, and he initiated a raffle. That kept everyone's attention off me for a while longer, but I was growing more and more apprehensive and nervous with every tick of the clock.

Finally at 8:40 the new equipment arrived. It was dropped off by the club presidents son who appeared to be in his early 20's. I felt a brief moment of reprieve until I noticed the young man left without helping to set the equipment in place. In a brief flurry of discussion it became apparent that no one there was familiar with setting the new unit up let alone operating it. A migraine began to nag me and I felt a bit faint. There wasn't enough coffee or water in the whole center to quench the dryness in my mouth.

In a group effort, everyone rallied around the machines and eventually, mostly by luck, they managed to turn it on, and I was handed the microphone. A loud cheer went up from the restless group.

As I began to introduce myself and give a bit of background for my talk, loud stripper music blasted from the speakers and some rather interesting images began to flash on the large screen behind me. Everyone gasped. Mothers covered their childrens eyes. Men hooted. I felt all my blood rushing to my head and I had to grasp hold the podium to keep my legs from buckling. I felt very nauseous and my whole body began to tremble. I managed to croak in a near whisper "That's NOT my C.D. Seriously people, that is not my C.D. Really no, not mine."

Well, naturally the man operating the projector couldn't figure out how to shut it off or open the C.D. drawer until it was too late...much, much too late, so we progressed about 3 minutes into the "show." When he was finally able to open the drawer he ejected a C.D. and jokingly announced it was titled "Factory Girls Raw and Naked" I left the stage and headed to the woman's restroom where I ran cold water over my wrists to keep from fainting and also splashed some on my face to no avail.

Apparently the young man who delivered the projector was watching that CD when he was asked to deliver the equipment to the club. Either he forgot to pull it out, or it was his revenge for having to give up his evenings entertainment. Either way, anyway, anyhow it was the most embarrassing moment in my life...thus far.

At 9.05 they reintroduced me and someone whispered in my ear "I know we scheduled your for an hour but can you cut it to 30 minutes or less?"

The rest is a blur.

Need I say I had a full blown migraine and was completely flustered, flushed, nauseated and faint by then? To top things off the stress caused my asthma to kick in and I could barely breath let along talk. My voice vibrated so bad it sounded like I was trying to talk while roller skating over a washboard sidewalk. Eventually, someone handed me a tiny paper cup of water which I managed to spill over my notes rendering them completely useless.

As for the talk, I have no idea what came out of my mouth. The sensation felt like what people describe when they say they have an out of body experience. I was there, but not really there. I stumbled madly though the disjointed talk and consolidated it down to 18 minutes flat. Maybe the audience didn't realize what I left out, maybe they were just happy it was finally over, or maybe they just felt sorry for me, but when I finished and staggered off the stage in a daze they applauded and thanked me.

Yesterday received a nice e-mail in the form of an apology and a request to speak again in 2 months. But you know what...I'm pretty sure I'm busy that night,when ever it is. My public speaking is pretty much a thing of the past...forever.