How I Became a Professional Speaker

For many years, whenever I was at a cocktail party, I found myself having the exact same experience again and again: As introductions were being made, one person would say they were a doctor, the next person would say they were a lawyer, and when it got around to me, I would say, “I play the bass in the Boston Pops.”

Well . . . what can I tell you? This statement consistently trumped all other avenues of conversation, as people would be terribly curious to know, “what’s that really like?” And, being a farm boy from Ohio, I would proceed to tell them . . . the honest truth.

There is a great deal of idealistic mythology about symphonies in general, and so people were fascinated– and occasionally shocked– when I told them some of the truly wacky stuff that went on, both on and off the stage. See video of one classic story here.

These stories were so universally popular that one day I decided to put them in a book, called Real Men Don’t Rehearse. (It is now in its 9th printing.)

As I traveled around promoting the book, it became pretty obvious to everyone concerned that I have a certain knack for standing up in front of a crowd and telling stories . . . so much so that people started to offer me money to do it. Voilà, a professional speaker.

Making people laugh will take one far, but then I started to delve into the mysterious world of conductors. People always asked me questions about conductors, and I had one as well: How did a small handful of top conductors manage to consistently and effortlessly inspire top performance from the orchestra, while most just got a perfunctory response? I studied this for years. Long story short, I discovered it was not what they did so much as what they did not do. It was never obvious, but the most successful conductors all departed– rather severely, I might add– from the conventional wisdom of management. This led to my writing Principles of Applied Stupidity.

"Principles" was originally meant to be purely a comedic presentation, sort of a riff on The Dilbert Principle ("The stupidest people in a company are promoted to management because that is where they can do the least amount of damage"). But as I got into it, I started to become aware of how the fear of "looking stupid" repeatedly leads well-intentioned talented people into mediocre performance. So I encourage people to "embrace their inner idiot" and make better use of their unique creative abilities. I confess, I am amazed at the wonderfully positive response that this talk and book have received.

There are quite a few conductors on the speaking circuit, but as far as I can tell I am the only "conductee." There must be playwrights and impresarios on the lecture circuit as well, but I am the only one I know of. Hey, the first law of branding is to "be first." And here I am.

I would love to share some stories of my unusual artistic adventures with your group. It will be fun. Call me at 781-330-8143. I hope you will checkout my Blog and my Facebook Fan Page.

 

(c) Justin Locke 

PS below, an excerpt from one of my first "speaking engagements":

 

 

 

 

This entry was posted in Speaking. Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published.