Convention tips for first-timers...

Having been to mostFPAconventions over the past few years, one gets to notice different people and how they present themselves.

Being a student of anthropology, I can let you in on a little insight as to how anthropologists identify different categories and sub-groups within the class. See how many you can spot and if you can fill up your own convention treasure card.

Student types.These are the folks, generally first timers, who have come along to learn something. Puh-leese! Learn something? You will see them dress comfortably and will have their convention timetable loaded into their PDAs. They drink orange juice at the cocktail party, ensuring they have a clear head for the following day’s program.

These are the types to avoid on the flight going home. I once had to sit next to a student type on a plane trip from Sydney to Perth and by the time we’d levelled off, I understood the wisdom of removing knives from domestic flights. This guy put the session CDs in his portable player and after annoying the crap out of me for an hour and a half, nodded off with a little smile reciting Section 945A of the FSRA.

Journalists.They are dangerous. They will generally dress in attire that looks like it was pinched from a rubbish bin out the back of an op shop. The crappier the clothing, the more senior they are. Journos from major dailies often earn more from people throwing them spare change than from their salaries.

One redeeming feature of journalists is that they are usually drunk and know where the free drinks are. Keep a discreet (and upwind) distance, but follow them around if you feel like partying. However, never talk to them because within two minutes you will have revealed details of your first sexual experience and the PIN number to your ATM cards — or apparently so, as you will read the following week.

Beware of Betacams and digital video cameras, small, discreet and broadcast quality these days. They are popular with crews fromFour Corners,A Current AffairandToday Tonight. Alternatively, keep away from any booths with pretty young things out the front, cameras love them.

BDMs.You can spot a BDM a mile off. They will be wearing a suit and a loud tie. In one hand they’ll have a knick knack pinched from the opposition’s stand — like the remote control that’s the only way of turning on the data projector. In the other hand they’ll have a mobile phone, explaining why YOU don’t get an invite to the special dinner they’ve laid on.

A mate of mine told me how he always loves messing with a BDM’s mind. First trick is to select someone you’ve never met and have a chat with one of their co-workers on the stand. Find out as much as you can about the target — like the name of their spouse, where they live, the dog’s name, what sort of car they have. On the final day of the convention, wander over to the stand…

“Tony, how are you? Great to see you.”

“Maaaaate, yeah, greaaaaaat to see you too!”

“How’s Angela and that mongrel dog of yours, Pipi?”

The first telltale signs of stress will begin to appear such as a very slight twitch of the left eyelid.

“Pipi, Ange… yeah great maaaate. Tell me, how’re you finding the convention?”

This is a common diversion tactic and means that he has no idea who you are, where you’re from or how you know him. You can go in for the Brain Killer.

“Pretty good. Hey, did you see the Commodore SS parked out the front (substitute the BDM’s car here). I reckon it looks just like yours, but I reckon everyone living in Elsternwick has one just like it.”

At this stage, the BDM’s mouth will start to dry out and the twitch will have turned into rapid blinking of both eyes, at which point you walk away...

Lifeys.These are the refugees from the 70s who still think that every financial plan is never complete without at least two or three whole of life policies. Inevitably, they’ll be wearing a Hawaiian shirt with a gold Rolex or Omega and will have socks with their names embroidered on them. Their names all end in O or AZZA and will most likely have a skin cancer that appeared following a trip to some equatorial conference venue.

You can have fun here too. Let them know ASIC has changed its mind on the FSRA deadline, thanks to the new minister looking after the thing, and that providing they give the secret code to the ASIC reps at the convention, they will be given a full one-to-one briefing on how to get around it.

The secret code is: “The flowers grow better with food in the spring. I reckon PS stands for Pure Sh*# and your place must be like a florist shop. Is Knotty the head pansy.”

Regular convention types.When you take out the BDMs, the student types, journalists and lifeys, there will be one main type left. They’re a little like the freckle-arsed mud lark and will be difficult to spot. Few will make it to the first session, generally recovering from the previous night’s entertainment and usually groaning a lot as they sit through the plenaries. Fortunately, most of the thinking sessions will occur later in the day when they’ve sobered up a little.

They will be loading up their show bags during the day collecting pens, squeeze balls, key rings, card holders, FM radio sets, yo-yos, Post-It notes, diaries, lolly-pops and dutifully collecting the pamphlets, brochures, CD-ROMs and business cards that go with them. These extras will be placed into a single bag that tragically and accidentally gets left behind on the last day as they check out of the hotel room.

Usually, these are the guys who will mutter how badly it compares to previous years but inevitably, pick up one or two ideas that make them a few grand the following year.

Have fun punters!