Lost in Las Vegas
As I ready myself for yet another aerospace convention, I can’t help but think of all the ones that have come before. I have a jaded attitude about them, to be sure, and have chronicled some of them in previous posts like “The Red Lights of Europe” and “There Will Only Be One Jerry.” They have been marathons of glad-handing, joking, dissipation, serious discussions, expensive group dinners, late night hotel bar interactions, golf tournaments, and sponsored social evening events. You get the picture; it’s burning the candle at both ends. I always retreat home exhausted and wondering how much was accomplished. There are always potential projects that come to the fore, chances to see current customers and suppliers, and time to wander the floor spying on who’s doing what and if there’s anything we can leverage. To maintain your company’s visibility in the marketplace, attendance is mandatory.
Designing and building a booth and paying for display space at these conventions is expensive. And size matters. As my old company’s name grew in the industry so did our obligation to have a larger presence – the size and wow factor of our booth needed to match our perceived market validity and influence. Spending $150,000 was the norm for a booth and space that would only be used once because next year’s had to be different and at least as eye-catching. The big boys could spend millions on their booths, some building multi-story buildings complete with theaters, lounges and multiple conference rooms with ticketed admittance. The sky was the limit.
But this year’s NBAA convention in Las Vegas will be something slightly different for me. For one, I have not been to an NBAA in years and I will not be the head cheese. I welcome that change, but having been in charge before and having to defer to others makes this a mindset change. I’m fine with that, it just takes some getting used to. I can no longer just speak my mind about how we are handling certain issues or make commitments without consulting others. I’m not The Guy.
It’s a relief actually. Knowing I don’t have to put the company on my back is liberating, in much the same way that having the company on my back in earlier years was also liberating. Having the power and being able to use it to create good endings for customers and the company was exhilarating and very satisfying. But I’ve been there and done that. Now, being asked my advice because others know I have been there is equally satisfying and a lot less stressful. Yes, I’m not the big dog in the hunt anymore, but that’s okay and actually kind of fun to be able to watch a bit from the sidelines. I’m happy to let others have the glory. You remember the Robert DeNiro character in “The Intern”? That’s sort of what I feel like now.
All that said, a convention is still an ‘always on’ kind of mentality and that can make it exhausting. The hours usually suck and standing on concrete all day (even with a big pad under your carpet or hardwood floor) makes the old knees swell and the joints sore. They’re a necessary evil I really would have no problem doing without. That makes me wonder how conventions actually got started. It must have been some promoter’s brainchild. Get all these people in the same room – you suppliers can sell to multiple customers at the same time, and you customers can have all your suppliers in the same room! What’s not to like? That may have been a good idea at the time, but now everyone just considers it a chance to look at your wares and feel you out – nothing they can’t already do on their own time. So, is it a boondoggle? I think it can be for a lot of potential customers, especially if they are part of a bigger organization.
Are sales going to be finalized? You bet. Are some people going to meet you in person and get a feel for who you are? Absolutely. But for the amount of money spent to get there and show your face, is it really worth it? I have never really thought so. If you’re new to the scene and need exposure there are less expensive ways to do that. If you’re company is well-monetized, then you’ve got the money (and probably the connections) to gain more exposure and opportunities in other ways. I’m just not sold on the value, the bang for the buck, of conventions.
I’ll let you know how it goes and how well I survive. But, I’ve been to too many of these to expect much more than a hangover. Viva Las Vegas.
