I went to a tradeshow this week. No matter how many tradeshows I go to, they are all the same. The first constant is the Freeman family of companies. I have now attended tradeshows in the following industries: food, pharma, lab instruments, military weapons, irrigation, medical devices, health system pharmacists, and healthcare information technology. In every instance, the Freeman family of companies has somehow been around performing a confusing array of services for which it is paid wads of cash. Not only that, but they have a never-ending supply of exhibit hall carpet which is infused with proprietary energy-sucking ingredients. Even seasoned exhibit hall wanderers are not immune to the carpet's powers. After wandering between booths for a mere two hours, my body feels as if I am on an episode of Man vs. Wild and my only source of water on the African Savannah is elephant dung. (at last week's conference I succeeded in suppressing the urge to wrap my head in a urine-soaked shirt).

While wandering by the booths, my reactions to seeing each exhibitor also fall into predictable categories:

1. Awe - There are a few companies at these shows that just have their acts together. They have an impressive array of products and services, and seemingly move from strength to strength as potential customers and partners clamor to do business with them. At this show I went to last week, that company was Google. In spite of Microsoft's gargantuan booth, Google chose to go with a tiny 1x2, and were hounded by throngs of conference-goers from dawn until dusk.

2. Confusion - I am constantly amazed that certain companies can survive year after year. Even after lengthy discussions with them about what they do, I sometimes still don't understand how they stay in business, or why someone would pay them to do what they say they do. I realize that some of these companies exhibit for the sole purpose of getting acquired by a bigger company, but I wouldn't want to buy company that can't explain what it does.

3. Red-faced shame - There's always that one company which insists on using scantily clad "representatives" to push its products. I recall at the military convention a few years ago, one exhibitor paid some Washington Redskins cheerleaders to show up and mingle with potential customers. To me, this conjured up unsavory stereotypes about sleazy back-room government deals for contracts and the like. The cheerleader's shock value was relatively high, too. In the context of a tradeshow, it seemed especially scandalous to see someone who is essentially wearing a bikini. There must not be enough important women in the military to put an end to this sort of thing.

4. Contempt - As I wander by the competitor's booths, it is easy to imagine how the competitor's employees must be in real life. Most likely, they breeze into the express checkout line at the grocery store with 18 items, file fraudulent tax returns, download pirated media over the internet, buy non-energy star-rated appliances, and tell lies. Unlike me, they do not mind deceiving customers, and look like skilled practitioners of the shell game, pyramid schemes, the bait and switch, the Nigerian letter, the Spanish Prisoner, the pump and dump, and various Ponzi schemes. I see attendees standing there talking to them, and assume that they are slowly being led away to customer purgatory.

That's quite enough for now. I will call the attached video "Asha pwns chin-up bar". After cajoling us into buying a chin up bar for her on ebay, Asha has certainly gotten value from it.