MUSINGS FROM JOAN #12

With Mother’s Day coming up this weekend, it occurs to me that I’ve been one lucky
Mother. I got to spend more than twenty years with my daughter as my business partner and loved every minute of it. Andrea and I were reminiscing the other day about some of the crazier promotions and special events that we were involved in during the years we worked together as Spector/Anker Associates. The ones we remember the best were the disasters, when something unexpected happened.

For instance, the time we were doing the Grand Opening of a luxury waterfront condominium called Nine Island Avenue. We decided on a tropical island theme and held the event out on the pool deck overlooking Biscayne Bay. The caterer told us she had an idea for a fabulous centerpiece for the main buffet table that would be located on the far side of the pool, closest to the dock area. In keeping with the island theme, she was bringing her beloved parrot, in his cage, to serve as a very colorful, very live, focal point.

We neglected to mention to her that we had made arrangements for fireworks as an added attraction for the event. As the sun set in the west over the bay, the party was going great, the buffet table looked fabulous and Sailor, the parrot, was a major hit. The time was right to give the signal to the fireworks man standing on the dock to “let ‘er rip”. As the first blast went skyward, poor Sailor keeled over in a dead faint from the concussion. The caterer’s concern for the welfare of our party dropped to zero as she and her entire staff rushed to the parrot’s side to apply mouth-to-mouth resuscitation. Ripping Sailor out of his cage, and scattering my artfully arranged buffet to the winds, they were gone in a flash to the nearest vet’s office, I presume, leaving Andrea and me to calm the startled guests and an understandably upset client.

The moral of that story? No live animals on your buffet table. You’d think we had learned our lesson. Think again.

We were handling an important press event for the Sheraton River House when the Food & Beverage Director of the hotel told us he wanted to try something called “Live Food”. “Sure,” we said. “Whatever.” One less detail we needed to worry about. Maybe we should have worried. “Live Food” is a concept that would never pass FDA inspection, I am sure of that. The centerpiece of the buffet table that evening consisted of a very scantily clad young lady reclining on a bed of lettuce. All the food for the cocktail hour was draped artfully around, on and over her body. The idea, apparently, was to snack off whatever body part you preferred. Women guests were not particularly enchanted with the concept, but the men loved it.

Caterers always seemed to be our bête noir. . .we’ve hired more companies than I can count, depending upon the location and type of event. Whenever people would ask why we always hired women account executives, I used to say because you can’t count on a guy to help you when the caterer doesn’t show up.

Exhibit #1 – another sales event for buyers who had already closed on their very expensive condos and were invited to bring a friend to a glamorous cocktail party. When the caterer hadn’t showed up less than an hour before the event was to start, I held the fort while Andrea and one of our AE’s made a frantic run on the local Publix, buying everything and anything that looked potentially edible with a stiff drink. The bartender was told to pour generously as the sweating AE more than earned her money that evening slapping caviar on crackers and creating hors d’oevres out of thin air. Neither the client nor the guests ever knew the difference, but we sure did.

Other caterers have literally saved our asses, especially one night when 150 rsvp’d to our party invites and 500 showed up for the event. (Real estate brokers are famous for neglecting to respond.) That strains even the best caterer’s 10% food overage plans. Not to mention the look of desperation on the faces of the valet parking guys who have long since run out of space for the never ending line of cars. “Great party,” the client gushed at the end of the evening. We were too exhausted to care.

You win some. You lose some. That’s the name of the game in the pr business, but it sure makes for great memories. Remind me to tell you about the time I represented the City of North Miami and the entire City Council got arrested. . . . . I guess I’ll save that for another blog.

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Photo caption: Ready to roll: The all-female staff of Spector/Anker Associates in the 70’s. That’s Andrea, second from the left, and me next to her. (Yes, we did hire men as the Agency continued to grow. . we weren’t that sexist.)