Conference Call Redux

Photo Courtesy of howstuffworks.com

Dear Communications Colleague:

I apologize for what I said to you on yesterday’s conference call. Despite my self-image as a kind and empathetic person, I insulted you without ever having met you or given much thought to the fact that there are good, decent people out there who don’t necessarily adhere to the Brookline-Cambridge view of the world.

Chalk it up to my own elitism. But I assumed that if you were in charge of a fall communications conference in Portland, Maine, you would have selected a hotel in the city’s downtown area – within walking distance of the waterfront.

Yes, I know you’re just another hard-working volunteer in a national professional organization to which I happen to belong. And I’m sure you were doing your best to keep costs down for attendees who will be tagging airfare on to the tab. So there was no excuse for my query that wasn’t really a query: “you’re having a conference in Portland and we’re going to be inside a shopping mall???”

In volunteering to join the committee planning the conference, I came in at the tail end – long after the venue, a suburban, chain hotel connected to a shopping mall off a highway had been selected. So I had no right to criticize your choice.

My assumption that we would be staying at the Portland Regency, the charming hotel my employer selected for a weekend board retreat more than a decade ago, was flawed. Nor should I have sounded aghast when you mentioned that enormous “floating restaurant” with the so-so food synonymous with places capable of accommodating large groups.

In case you’re interested, the Regency is within walking distance of the harbor. Not to mention all those gourmet restaurants highlighted in the New York Times’ food and travel sections, and that boutique where I picked up a Peruvian, hand-knit sweater that's a staple of my weekend wardrobe.

In my own ignorance, it never occurred to me that while you’re a Mainer, you come from Augusta, a tiny state capital in what I have to imagine is a fairly rural area, and that you like it that way. You probably drive most places because you get plenty of exercise on your snowshoes or cross-country skis in winter. Attending the conference will no doubt drag you away from an otherwise delightful weekend of fall hiking.

My assumption that the conference call would focus solely on the substance of the conference was wrong too. Seriously, I know getting sponsorships is essential to keeping costs down for attendees, and I was impressed to hear a colleague of ours from Kansas City speak with confidence about how much money she plans to raise through her contacts.

Admittedly I would have preferred a reduced focus on “outings” such as the proposed trip to the LL Bean Store in Freeport. The rationale is that such excursions promote bonding among conference attendees. My own opinion is that highlighting excursions over substance erodes the credibility of the conference as a professional event. Besides, we now have an LL Bean at Legacy Place in Dedham.

As volunteers, we all bring something to the table. I committed to developing programs focusing on issues management and marketing communications. There are a lot of talented, committed people in our organization and I’m hoping I can persuade a friend and colleague from Philadelphia to join me in this effort.

He’s the same colleague who was sweet enough to snap a pic of me in Beverly Hills on his iPhone and email it to Dennis. If he balks at the idea of staying at a hotel in a suburban shopping mall, I’ll remind him that I will be driving up from Boston, and stand ready to chauffeur around as many people as can fit in my Honda Civic. 

Meanwhile, when I get to the conference I look forward to sitting down with you over a Chimay, just as President Obama did with Professor Skip Gates from Harvard and that policeman from Cambridge. Maine is beautiful, and I pledge to help ensure the success of our conference.

Apologetically yours,

Bonnie