When the Lights Went Out

So there I was - just about to give my keynote talk at the English UK Marketing Conference a few years back and... the lights all went out. Total darkness. And, worse still, no power for my PP presentation behind me.

I had been asked to talk about Anti-Marketing to about 200 of my piers after a long day in the marketing trenches, listening to all sorts of riveting stuff and looking at impressive charts, funnels, bullet points and ... you get the picture.

I stood up, took a deep breath and... wham. Darkness. Then the fire alarms went off. Some delegates laughed, others gasped and a few clapped. Was this the perfect start to a talk on anti-marketing - deliberately choreographed to get the maximum wow factor? Was this a brilliant move on my part? It was about anti-marketing, after all, where anything could and should happen.

Err... no. Sadly not. I wish I had thought of it though. It would have been an excellent way to get the attention of tired brains at the end of the conference.

Huan Japes (the English UK man there) approached me and asked if I could carry on regardless before the natives got restless. The alarms had stopped by now, incidentally.

Now, considering that my entire talk is not done with any notes, but relies on flicking through 78 slides behind me to keep me on track, I was faced with a task of epic proportions. Huan whispered that if I could get through the first ten minutes, then English UK would not have to face delegates clamouring for a portion of their entrance fee back. A bit like Wimbledon on a rainy day - get an hour's play in during the deluges and the punters would have to walk without a refund.

I had 2 minutes re-arranging my talk and cleared my throat. I would give it a go. Anything to help the good people at English UK. What came to mind was a short anecdote about an old warhorse of the industry called Brian Heap, who had a novel way of marketing at workshops, which entailed nailing your brochures to your table and looking bored, disinterested and upset if approached by possible students. I liked his style. He ended up with many more bookings too - but that's another story.

I was halfway through my story of Brian and beginning to wonder what I was going to do next, when the main doors opened and men in fluorescent jackets burst in. Again, applause. Was this part of the Adrian Liley anti-marketing experience? Again, sadly, no.

We were loudly ordered out of the conference hall by appalled fire martials, who told us that there was an electrical fire in the basement and that we should have left the building ten minutes previously. Hadn't we heard the alarms? Were we all deaf? Or stupid? Or suicidal?

As we trundled down the backstairs to the ground floor, Huan sidled up to me and asked if I could continue in the car park if he found a box or crate to stand on. These English UK boys don't give up easily! Then it was decided that an early start at the nearby pub might be a better option.

To be honest I was relieved. It's not easy talking about postmodernist, retro, hyper-reality in total darkness. On the other hand...