$5 can buy a *lot* of fun.
Oct. 3rd, 2012 12:19 amAfter some examination, it does in fact appear that my rule of thumb for conference swag seems to be: "We expect that you will encounter a problem (at this conference, or in your professional life) that can be solved with this bit of swag." Granted, that problem may be somewhat abstract, such as "lack of cool thing to place on desk and fidget with", or "lack of personal attire" in the case of the free t-shirt (or, g-d help us, the massively unprofessional briefs). Ours is not a profession that solves its work-related problems with fire (though if only we could--!) and certainly not with condoms. (Safety! reminds ![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
elf. This is going to be a really safe conference.)
I did, in fact, look up how much money it would take to outfit the entirety of a certain Silicon Valley company's $SKILL division with kazoos. The answer is: this conference seats a number that is lower than the minimum order of 150; imprinted kazoos are a dollar apiece for the minimum order; setup fee is around 50. So for a cool $200, I could become the temporary owner of 150 very attractive kazoos, that is, until my Overlady tracked me down and stuffed my practical black hiking sandals down my throat. (My Overlady is the sweetest person you'll ever meet, until something mission-critical fails, at which point she becomes abruptly non-sweet and very focused on making sure that the mission succeeds, and the failure does not repeat if she has to kill something herself. I mentioned I at least minorly idolize my Overlady, right?)
Clearly, outfitting the entire conference with kazoos would be a bad, bad move. (When I mentioned the kazoo idea, as a horribly bad idea, to my manager, she laughed and suggested vuvuzelas. Did I mention that my manager rocks, and has a sick and twisted sense of humor? My manager rocks, and her sense of humor is the best.)
However, I could still amuse myself with thoughts of slipping off to the dollar store and buying about $5 worth of kazoos.
If the swag bags were made up specifically, I'd have a short list of who would get a kazoo: people who would both think it was funny, and who could be trusted to behave maturely when agents of throwing a little excitement into the mix blessed them with a kazoo.
If the swag bags were assigned randomly, there was another plan: print up short notes to be slipped into each kazoo-containing bag. The notes would read a little like this:
The thought of doing this will have to keep me warm.
elf. This is going to be a really safe conference.) I did, in fact, look up how much money it would take to outfit the entirety of a certain Silicon Valley company's $SKILL division with kazoos. The answer is: this conference seats a number that is lower than the minimum order of 150; imprinted kazoos are a dollar apiece for the minimum order; setup fee is around 50. So for a cool $200, I could become the temporary owner of 150 very attractive kazoos, that is, until my Overlady tracked me down and stuffed my practical black hiking sandals down my throat. (My Overlady is the sweetest person you'll ever meet, until something mission-critical fails, at which point she becomes abruptly non-sweet and very focused on making sure that the mission succeeds, and the failure does not repeat if she has to kill something herself. I mentioned I at least minorly idolize my Overlady, right?)
Clearly, outfitting the entire conference with kazoos would be a bad, bad move. (When I mentioned the kazoo idea, as a horribly bad idea, to my manager, she laughed and suggested vuvuzelas. Did I mention that my manager rocks, and has a sick and twisted sense of humor? My manager rocks, and her sense of humor is the best.)
However, I could still amuse myself with thoughts of slipping off to the dollar store and buying about $5 worth of kazoos.
If the swag bags were made up specifically, I'd have a short list of who would get a kazoo: people who would both think it was funny, and who could be trusted to behave maturely when agents of throwing a little excitement into the mix blessed them with a kazoo.
If the swag bags were assigned randomly, there was another plan: print up short notes to be slipped into each kazoo-containing bag. The notes would read a little like this:
Congratulations! You have been chosen for the All-$COMPANY kazoo band. This honor is due to your skill and musical aptitude. Rehearsal is outside in the parking lot during the last 10 minutes of lunch. The performance will be shortly after the conference closing ceremonies.
The thought of doing this will have to keep me warm.
