Every year, the "lumenati" (the enlightened members of the lighting industry) come to the Big Trade Show (the BTS), hungering for a taste of the latest technology, thirsting for a long drink from the well of new products, and they go home with aching heads and sore feet. Next year, we all promise, we'll all sing the praises of the BTS, but this year we've had our fill. Then we all beat a hasty retreat to the comfort of our stacks of virtual paper and our grand To-Do lists. But there is a better way. While it was still fresh in our minds – though our minds have been rendered soft and mushy from the slate of trade show activity – we journeyed to the mountain top (metaphorically speaking, of course – everyone knows we just Googled it) to meditate on the mystery of The Perfect Trade Show and how to achieve it. It turns out that the mystery is the door to understanding. In other words, it's a Zen thing. Here are the keys to the mystery:
The Perfect Trade Show…
…has no beginning and no end. There is never a right time to leave the office, and there is never enough time to see everything at a trade show. Can't we just eliminate those two small details?
…is infinitesimal in size but infinite in space. Trade shows are so spread out that it takes too much of your valuable time to traipse across the show floor to get from one side to the other. Yet we love our massive booths with obscene displays of vast numbers of moving colored lights. Let's combine both big and small in the same location and be done with it. That's what Einstein was working on when he stumbled upon e=mc2.
…has no crowds but lots of people. If our trade shows continue to be so insanely crowded, pretty soon no one will go, and then we won't be able to see all of our old friends and make new ones. Zen master Yogi Berra taught us that one.
…takes no time at all, yet fills your day. Why does it take so much time out of the day to attend a trade show? And then when it's over, why does it seem like the blink of an eye? Scientists call this the persistence of perception. We call it lousy clock management. Other people blame it on the hangover after the 4Wall party.
...makes no sound and has no feel. If everyone wasn't talking at the same time, it wouldn't be so loud on the show floor, and we might get more accomplished. The PTS uses a talking token that is passed from exhibitor to exhibitor, and only those in possession of the token may speak. At the end of the day, your feet still hurt. Sometimes the PTS is the just like a plain old trade show.
…is devoid of convention food, yet fills you up. Ten dollars for a cold sandwich? Really? At the PTS there is no convention food other than the information that fills your brain with all of the nutrients it needs, which is to say you'll never make it past the RDM Pavilion.
…is nowhere and everywhere at the same time. Holding a trade show in Las Vegas is like holding a Phish concert in a cow pasture. It just encourages the attendees to do what people do in Las Vegas and in cow pastures. The perfect trade show location is in a cow pasture (nowhere) during a Phish concert (they're everywhere).
...hungers for knowledge and thirsts for information. Let's face it – trade shows are there to pay for a free trip to Las Vegas, get free swag, get you out of the office and to give you an excuse not to reply to e-mail for three days. And let's not forget about the parties. At least that's what our spouses think. But we all know we go for the intellectual stimulation.
…imparts wisdom without invoking lines. Standing in lines is for grade school kids. Therefore, the PTS will never be in Las Vegas. (See #4 above.)
…is both good and evil. The good: beginning, the middle, and the end; the evil: the beginning, the middle, and the end.
