Friday, October 28, 2011

1608 Crank Case

As I age, I have to be careful to avoid going from merely being a commentator on things around me to being a cranky old curmudgeon to being a certifiable crank case.
I saw one of those the other day at a trade show. Like most times when I have a booth at a trade show, I was offering a game for attendees to play.
Trade shows can rapidly devolve into grabfests for some attendees—there to harvest whatever geegaws and giveaways businesses have to offer. Pencils, pens, lint removers, you name it, the tradeshow harvesters glean the giveaways from every booth, packing away booty for the next three year's Christmas stocking stuffers.
As this particular tradeshow happens in October, it always reminds me of adults trick-or-treating. So I always make the harvesters do a trick. In this case, I had a little cardboard game enclosure set up where a player had to blow up a balloon, then use the air splatting out from the balloon to moistly chase a ping-pong ball through a goal hole. Most people thought it was fun.
Then this guy came by with a sour look on his face.
"Giving anything away?" he sneered, as he eyed the pile of candy just out of reach on my table.
"If you play the game," I responded brightly.
"What do I have to do?" he asked.
"Blow up a balloon and use the air to chase a ping-pong ball into this hole," I said.
"What do I win?"
"A nice piece of candy!" I smiled.
He shook his head and snarled, "Too much work."
"You get to keep the balloon..." I called after him.
Yeah, that whole free thing just ain't that much fun when there's work involved.
Talk about a crank case.
America, ya gotta love it.

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