the convention - 1982: Stories of the Young and Dumb, aka My First Bike Trip - CycleBlaze

the convention

“Have you ever heard of Amway?” 

The words hung in the air between us, like a late morning mist, then dissipated.

It was the first time I’d ever heard the word, and I noted it was a shortened version of “American” and “Way.”  The "American Way?" It HAD to be good. 

"No, I've never heard of it."

"Do you want to?"

I was all ears.

"Sure."

As the full meaning of “Amway” unfolded over the next forty five minutes, I didn't say anything, and even managed to maintain the same facial expression, but I don’t think I ever blinked.

And, more great news! There was an Amway Convention just down the road in Biloxi tomorrow night! And would I like to go?? 

Ummmm….. Yes?? 

Having listened to Marcia’s Plan, it seemed to me that the biggest drive behind it all was greed, but I was determined to keep an open mind.

The following afternoon we left Vicksburg at 3:45 and arrived in Biloxi a little after 7:00. The Convention was on the top floor of the Royal D’Iberville Hotel, which appeared to be an expensive venue. I had borrowed some of Chris’ clothes so I wouldn’t have to go in shorts and tennis shoes, and had taken yet another one of those showers that Marcia had insisted on a couple of days ago.

I met a lot of people, then more people. Everyone I met had a salesman’s smile and firm handshake. All of them appeared to have known me forever. As a natural-born introvert, my preference would’ve been to sit quietly in the corner, fascinated by the actions and interactions, but that wasn’t on my dance card tonight.

Also, I kept waiting for the food.

The anticipation built as the evening progressed, until we were all asked to take our seats. Another moment of silence, then the lights were dimmed. The tension built. Complete silence, then….

The theme to Rocky… buh, Bu bu bu Bu bu bu Bu bu, bu, BUH BU BU BU BU BU BU BU BU BU….

It reminded me of a game show, or a football team roster being announced before a title game. One by one, as their names were announced, the spotlight shone on the participants as they ran down the middle aisle from the back towards the podium in front.  Their hands were in the air, their fists pumping. 

I thought,

“I spent $16.00 on this? When is the food coming out?”

The “inspirational” speaker mentioned that his carpet was “thick enough to lose a cat in,” and rhapsodized about his expensive boats and cars. This was followed by the largest part of the program, which consisted of recognizing the people with the highest sales. Just like in the beginning of the program, the Winners ran down the aisle, waving, clasping their hands over their heads, the only difference being that instead of the Rocky theme it was “Eye of the Tiger.”

The program concluded around 2:00 AM, and after it was done we drove to the beach. Walking on the white sand in the middle of the night next to a person I just thought I knew, she asked me what I thought about the convention. I didn't answer right away, letting the question hang in the air for a moment, then,

“There... seems to be a love of money.”

She considered my statement for a moment, then replied,

“mmm…  I don’t think so.”

The low waves crashed just a few feet away from us as we walked. A seagull cried overhead. Our footprints washed away.  

“I met a coal miner in Kentucky less than a month ago who just got laid off. He’s got two kids, a wife going to school, and no income….   and that guy was just bragging about the fact that he has a $15,000 watch.”

Her response was something to which I had no reply,

“I’m a lot happier now than I was four months ago.”

Marcia
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