Last night, I found myself having a bit of a reality check. Is what I do a proper job?
I had just come off stage after entertaining 100 guests at a conference for an international building consultant. As it was a corporate gig I was using tried and tested material (all ‘above the belt’) and the audience laughed along throughout. The person who had booked me had a big grin on her face and everybody seemed satisfied, happy and well entertained.
I was invited to stay and have a drink, which I did. I got chatting to one or two people, architects, city planners, policy makers, and they were all patting me on the back and telling me how much they enjoyed the show and how impressed they were. Now, this is a group of highly paid, highly qualified people who are paying me handsomely to talk and have fun for about half an hour and then stand around and have a drink with them. Not a bad day’s work but should I feel bad about not doing a nine to five job?
On the other hand, today, I’m running the club, which involves a lot more actual graft (lugging sound equipment, keeping the artists and venue happy) and I’ll walk away from there with less than a twentieth of what I got paid for the corporate job… if I’m lucky.
But to be honest, I wouldn’t have it any other way…. it would just be nice to have more corporate jobs, so without plugging myself too shamelessly – corporate bookers please feel free to contact me at www.speakup.se.
Also I can’t think of another context in which I would meet such a diverse bunch of people – architects last night, Stockholm intelligentsia on Saturday, Skånsk TV writers tonight… and on Tuesday I had coffee with the British Ambassador, who is, I’m pleased to report, one of the nicest, friendliest people you could hope to meet.
I had tried to explain to my four year old who the Ambassador was, by saying that Sweden has a King and the UK has a Queen and that the Ambassador is the Queen’s representative in Sweden. This somehow, got confused in his junior mind and he told the ladies at his nursery that I was on my way to meet the King of England.
Now, I wouldn’t be having coffee with the King, if I worked a ‘proper’ job.
Hail to the king baby!
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Ask the girl from Hull about the British Ambassador. Oh and check if he has a name tag.
BB
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To be fair, the girl from Hull was not aware that the official greeting to a British Ambassador is ‘Your Excellency’, rather than, ‘Y’alright, love?’
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Yeah, the post nice. The information given by you is a good one. The king have a coffee. Thanks for this post.
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