Concorde

Travelling into Paris Charles DeGaulle last week I had a brief moment of alarm (there is nothing particularly unusual here, travelling to Paris frequently alarms me). The cause of the momentary panic on this occasion however was, during the taxi from the distant runway (and, boy, isn't it distant? Although it is not as bad as the new one at Schiphol which is, I'm sure, actually in Belgium - we had to re-set our watches as it is actually in a different time zone to the airport!) I saw out of the corner of my eye, a semi-airborne plane directly at right-angles to us.

The plane in question was of course an Air France Concorde which, like the BA one at Heathrow, is on display in a semi-airborne pose in the airport's outfield. Which raises the question (no, not THAT question, i.e. why did they retire the most wonderful piece of technology invented in my lifetime) but the question of why display the aircraft there - where no one can really see it, or stop to gaze longingly at it?

They have one at Manchester, and the Mancunians had the great sense and self-awareness to realise that a Concorde out in the open in Manchester would turn into a huge pile of Orange dust in a heart-beat given the 'Excessive Humidity' (in other countries they call it rain) for which Manchester is famous, and so they, very thoughtfully, built a shed around it so it would be indoors.

This is the point though, the Concorde at Manchester can be viewed, up close and personal as the modern magazines like to say. You can gaze lovingly at it (OK, perhaps it's just me), go on it - people even GOT MARRIED on it.

That must have been a strange affair don't you think? A wedding on a grounded Concorde in a shed in Manchester. Do they do the speeches over the tannoy? Do they bring the champagne out in plastic beakers served on a trolley? Do they do a safety briefing beforehand? "In the event of a panic-stricken Bridegroom, Oxygen masks will appear automatically from above your head". Surely it will restrict the dancing? Concorde had famously narrow aisles (not much room for an inebriated Uncle to swing a 6 year old girl around). So, in the interests of scientifuc experiment, if any readers are planning on having their wedding on a Concorde, the present Mrs Guru and I are available (purely in the interests of research you understand) - you just wouldn't feel 'propery married' unless it was on a grounded supersonic airliner in a shed would you?

Mind you, at least it would be indoors and not stuck out in the middle of an airfield rearing up at slightly confused middle-aged executives, and for that, I am most grateful.

My strangest Assignment yet

When one has spent a few years as a revered Businessman and pillar of the community, it can be tempting to assume that one has, to a certain degree, seen it all. I have long thought that one of the (few) advantages of the odd sprinkling of 'Salt' in the overall "pepper' of one's hairstyle is that it confers an air of wisdom, of gravitas, of having been around the block a few times and successfully found one's way back.

So imagine my chagrin last week when I was put onto a new client assignment, that of organising an Open Day FOR A CREMATORIUM.

Forgive my naivete dear reader, but it rather took me aback to get such an assignment, but no in all seriousness (to be fair, Crematorium staff do not go in for jokes too much for obvious reasons), there IS to be an Open Day and the client wants our firm, i.e. yours truly, to spearhead the planning and organisation of this 'not to be forgotten experience'.

It gets odder, it appears there is a 'Crematorium of the Year Award' too and my client has finished second more times than he cares to remember and wants to use "Initiatives" arising from the Open Day, as a major part of a Strategic 'Push' towards the top spot he so craves - is it me?? I have a real worry that the client is going to invite me to next year's award ceremony if he is successful in his quest - how wierd would that be? What awards do they have "Best Garden of Remembrance, Best Cremation? Flue of the year? What award do you get? I imagine a little golden coffin, perhaps with a golden star on the top.

So we had our first 'Kick-off' meeting at the end of last week, I am to work on this project assisted (I use the term advisedly) by my new Junior, Lance.

Now I don't want to be too scathing about Lance, after all, he is some (poor) mother's son but really! He wants me to 'Connect' with him on Bookface and says he wants to 'Tweet me'! I thought he had a speech defect, treat me to what? But no, apparently he wants me to start a Profile on something called Twittering so he can send me 140 character snippets of what he's up to. "140 characters"? I told him, "I want full page reports of what you are up to not tweets or whatever" - this, it has to be said, did not go down well, I believe I heard the word 'Luddite' muttered more than once.

So we had the Kick-off, an experience that was simultaneously bizarre, unreal and mind-fizzingly mundane. Lance suggested we have an 'interactive experience' which, against all odds, the client seemed to quite like! What sort of interactive experience you would want of a crematorium one can only guess at. I clung to the idea that it was all just a poor taste joke and thought I would enter the spirit (no pun intended). I suggested we should do a SWOT analysis (the consultants' favourite knee-jerk) which was eagerly accepted as a serious contribution. What would one say are the "Opportunities" for a Crematorium, perhaps there would be a homicidal maniac move into the locality and start a homicidal killing spree? That should drum up some business. What about 'Threats', perhaps people would start leaving their departed loved ones out for the bin men instead of going down that old tired model of burial/cremation. Question, would they do it on a Grey Bin day or a Green bin day? Green surely? Grey would be too disrespectful don't you think?

Buoyed by the positive response to my SWOT idea I got into the spirit of the thing rather, although I did get some funny looks when I suggested we have a bouncy castle and face-painting! To show his total lack of an irony gene, Lance made the comment that a bouncy castle would be inappropriate and in any event could not take place because the only appropriate site had already been claimed by the 'Build your own coffin from household refuge' Exhibit.

Perhaps there WILL be room in that Grey Bin after all...

It would be a great job, if it weren't for the clients...

Just returned home from a final client meeting (with the emphasis on the word final). I fear I had what I am coming to describe as a 'Jack Nicholson Moment'.

The project was a nine-month sojourn around some very nice parts of the world. It was a Marketing positioning research project to find the ideal indication for a new skin cancer drug. Although skin cancer is far from nice, the project had, until last Friday, been very good for me because I had to interview world leaders in the field to determine the best market for my clients' new drug. Luckily for me, the world experts on skin cancer reside in nice sunny countries and so, dear reader, I have been merrily trotting around Florida, Sydney, and (for reasons unclear even to me) Coventry!

Still, all was well, the physicians had been very generous with their time and had all agreed on one irrevocable conclusion (a feat in itself since, usually, if you have three surgeons in a room that is enough for five opinions), there was a very clear space for my client's product, No, there was a screaming need for my client's product - Good Times!

It came down to testing which of two possible types of Skin Cancer the product should be marketed for and the results were, as I say, overwhelming. Indication A got 9 votes, Indication B got Minus 8 votes (they actually thought it would cause harm).

So, full of the calm bravado that the soon to be doomed often display, I presented my findings to the client. At the end, I sat down, awaiting the certain applause and ready to bask in the shower of adulation they were sure to heap upon me.

"We kinda (they weren't American but seemed to want to talk like they were) hoped it would be indication B" the CEO said. "Well I'm afraid it isn't" said I "but the great news is they would all use it yesterday if it were available for indication A", I grinned my best Tony Curtis grin in triumph. "Well, we REALLY need it to be indication B" was the sad reply.

We see-sawed with this for about fifteen minutes when (exasperated now, Tony Curtis grins a dim distant memory), I raised my voice "Look, it is what it is, it's good news why can't you be happy with that"?, at which point, things went VERY Pear-shaped. The CEO it was who finally triggered the moment I went critical and waved 'Goodbye' to my career - triggering my 'Jack Nicholson in 'A Few Good Men' moment' when he said (after only 25 minutes of this nonsense) "Look Tom, don't get mad, WE ONLY WANT THE TRUTH". I know, I guess you are ahead of me, I should have paused, done some dep breathing and relaxation exercises, my therapist would probably tell me to think of Mountain streams or fluffy kittens or something - instead I heard the veritable Mr. Nicholson's voice booming from my mouth "THE TRUTH?...YOU CAN'T HANDLE THE TRUTH". The meeting ended shortly after.

And THAT is how you get from Tony Curtis to Jack Nicholson in only two moves.

The Senior Partner wants to see me in the morning - I wonder what it's about?

Tom