So, I’m on my Boston Acoustics trip and I have to say, first off, no lobster. At least not at the house. Contrary to the beliefs of people on this and other boards, the lobster pot was NOT prelude to a real live lobster for me to eat. No, it was marketing speak for, “Hey, you’re going to eat lobster” which could have been said with the crackers and bib (or just a note for that matter) and not the oversized pot that, according to the directions, can’t be used on my glass top stove (maybe I can use it as a planter?).

I figure you, the reader, might want a bit of insight into the happenings of these “glamorous” press events. So I’ll try (as best I can) convey what actually goes on. First of all, there’s the prep. Not unlike normal packing for a trip, the press event trip has only two major differences: the reporting equipment and the overriding desire NOT to check bags. Personally, I don’t really mind checking bags all that much. I never pack anything in them that the TSA employees would want to steal so I don’t fret about it (if you pack a camera or an iPod in your checked luggage, you get what you deserve). It used to be that you could protect your belongings with a lock but after 9/11, they HAVE to open it so they cut it off. Of course you can buy locks that only TSA can open but that really defeats the purpose doesn’t it? They were the people I was trying to keep out.

Anyhow, once you are packed (in two carry-ons if you know what is good for you) you have the luxury of overdressing for the flight. Overdressing? Yes. You have to dress assuming that the minute you get off the plane you’ll be escorted to the head of Boston Acoustics (whoever that is) for a face to face meeting. Because if you don’t, you surely will. My flight out of Atlanta was delayed an hour – yep a measly hour. What did that mean? I almost missed the dinner. Oh yeah, the big “Come to Boston and eat lobster” dinner. The minute my plane lands, I get two calls from Boston PR people, the first saying that they know I’m late and will hold a place for me and the second wondering why I haven’t come down from my room yet. Good communication guys.

I take the taxi they sent for me (a Cadillac with a real fancy driver and a sub-zero AC unit) over to the hotel and check in. Knowing that my lobster was slowly being eaten by the other ravenous press also wondering what to do with their monster pot, I quickly hightailed it downstairs and called back the press people. Little did I know that the room the dinner was being held in was in a basement (basement? what’s that? I live in Florida) and they had no cell reception. So no return calls. I had a name of a street (kinda) and about 66% of the restaurant name (Café F-something – it’s Italian, how hard can it be to find?) so I get some basic directions and start off. Well, if you know anything about the north side of Boston (Kurt, are you laughing yet?) there is a street named Hanover. Well, there are about a BILLION Italian restaurant on that street about 33% of which have the word “café” in the name. I think I find the place but there is obviously (from what I can see) no room for a party as large as the BA one so I turn to leave. On a whim, I change my mind and ask the hostess. She leads me down some stairs to a large and very hot room full of BA and D&M employees and press all eating and drinking and having a ball.

I’ve arrived.

I’m seated by some BA employees since all the press was sort of lumped together and I quickly order. Unfortunately, I didn’t see, until it was too late, the lobster dish and order the veal (who doesn’t like veal?). Well, it was over cooked and not that great but there was plenty of wine and good conversations so it worked out OK.

But that doesn’t really describe the trip does it?

The thing to remember is that my flight was only ONE HOUR LATE. One hour and I just about missed the dinner. As much as marketing people are hatched from pods, travel people seem to have little to know understanding of how the airline system works. I’m the first to admit that airlines are one of the biggest faith-based organizations out there (ever try to confirm your flight the day before? 75% of the time you can’t find it online or over the phone. You just have to believe it has been scheduled) but Dan, the guy that handled my travel arrangements, took this to an art form. He sent me an itinerary (no, he wouldn’t do this over the phone, had to be by email) and I rejected it. He sent me another and I accepted it. No word from him. A few days later a BA employee emails me insisting that I need to get my flight scheduled ASAP. OK. I thought I did. Dan, after my terse email, casually tells me that it is already scheduled. Great. Not only do I not know that, but neither does BA. Fun for all.

The first flight from JAX to Atlanta was like a sauna – 85 degrees and about 200% humidity. I could barely breathe. Now I’m trying to get the podcast edited for tonight (as you can see, I didn’t) but I can’t keep my eyes open. Heat plus the rocking motion of a plane taking off equals a sleeping Tom. Eventually I wake up, turn on the computer, and edit about 5 minutes of the podcast just in time for the captain to announce that the plane is landing. Great. The second flight is delayed so I spend a few minutes drinking a beer in a Chili’s Too and editing the podcast (I over tip the waitress since I took up the table for 45 minutes and spent $6). The second flight is better except for the avian bird flu guy behind me that won’t stop coughing and the Ebola chick that looks to be on the verge of death. Of course, the androgynous person sitting next to me is in such a deep sleep that I contemplate poking them to see if they are still breathing. More podcast editing but with the background noise in both locales, I’m not sure of the quality. I will say that considering the number of technical issues we had with that podcast, what I heard sounds remarkably good.

So now I’m in my room with a warming bottle of wine and four chocolate covered strawberries that were supposed to be my “don’t eat too much, this restaurant is expensive” snack before the dinner writing this blog. The BA people are all excited about their products, as they should be. I sat next to the new creative director who was like a school boy with a secret that he can barely contain. I’m not sure what they have in store for me tomorrow but I know this – my wife is pissed that I didn’t call her when I got off the plane. After all that commotion and running around, it just slipped my mind. Maybe if I sent her the wine and strawberries…

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