In this business, we all end up with crazy stories, some of which I wish I had been a part of and some of which I'm happy to have avoided. We all walk away from a show sleep-deprived, hungry, and filled with you-had-to-be-there moments. I could bore you to death with all the silly tales, and I may eventually, but for now, indulge me while I share a favorite onsite story.
A client of mine was having a Caribbean themed meeting and one of the executives loved to make a big splash for the audience. He always wanted a dramatic entrance, in costume, and it was always a hit. During this particular meeting he decided to be a pirate because...well, there was some parallel to pirate's treasure, which was the audience...something to rationalize it all when, in reality, he just liked dressing up and having fun. So, we obliged because who doesn't love fun? There was to be a quick change from a business suit into a full-on Johnny Depp, blacked out teeth, scarves everywhere pirate get-up, but the key element, the one thing he wanted more than anything, was to have a live parrot fly to his arm and say the company's catchphrase. Well, we all want things we can't have and this was one of those things. Parrots are very intelligent, but they're not quick learners and picking up a three-word phrase in a week wasn't gonna happen, neither was the flying to his arm on cue bit. We suggested all manner of controllable scenarios - robot parrot, stuffed parrot, person in a parrot costume, actual parrot on stage on a perch - all of which would have gotten the joke accomplished and would have freed him up to do his big close without having a live bird's claws digging into his arm. But the heart wants what it wants.
The parrot arrived for rehearsal (yes, we had a "parrot rehearsal" on the schedule) and we all worked to get the bird ready for his big debut. There was just one small hitch - the parrot was not keen on anyone but his owner. And he was definitely not keen on the executive. Never have I seen such bird-to-human animosity. Those beady black eyes can telegraph a lot of hate under the right circumstances.
The parrot's owner coerced and cajoled, tried this way and that to convince the bird that it was okay to stand on the executive's arm, but all the parrot would do in response was say "eh-eh", violently shake his head no, and climb up the owner's arm to his shoulder. (It helps to hear the sound in person. Ask me sometime to mimic the parrot.) This poor parrot was shuffled around - on the stage deck, on my arm, on the owner's arm, back on the stage (the second time was when he bit the executive's finger) - and throughout the whole deranged mess, he just kept squawking "eh-eh" and shaking his head no. Clearly, this parrot was not having it. Reluctantly, everyone admitted this was a problem without a solution, the parrot went back into his cat carrier, and the bird bit was cut from the show.
But this scene - me in a down coat in a frigid ballroom in the middle of summer on a tropical island, multiple crew members throwing out ideas, one increasingly testy executive, one bloody finger, one embarrassed owner, and one very persistent parrot - has lived on forever because the oft repeated "eh-eh" has morphed into the popular catchphrase "to quote a parrot friend of mine, 'eh-eh'" (popular in a very tiny sphere of influence, mind). It can be used in a variety of situations. You can use it to answer an interrogative question. You can use it to decline an unsavory offer. You can use it when someone on a Southwest flight asks you if this seat is taken. Give it a whirl sometime! I'm sure you'll find it confuses those around you, allowing you to escape from dicey moments.
And next time someone requests an untrained, live animal come in to perform impossible feats, just say "eh-eh".
