Don't Be Cavalier With the Lavalier

When it comes to the topic of microphones, I've always been a "lav" man.  Now, don't get me wrong.  It's not that I'm in love with the lavalier or lapel microphone, it's just that there aren't any other reasonable alternatives.

For example, the microphone attached to the lectern tends to limit your freedom of motion, which is okay if you are, say, giving an address from the head table at a banquet or your feet have been nailed to the floor.  Otherwise, you might want the option of moving more than three inches in any direction.  Of course, your movement will be further limited if the lectern mic is of the normal quality (i.e., bad).  In that case, you will spend your entire presentation bent over the lectern as if you were accepting an American Music Award.  "I'd like to thank everyone for coming out to my CLE, especially those of you in the balcony.  This CLE is for you guys!"

The other option -- a handheld microphone -- presents its own challenges.  For one, it requires you to spend an hour or more holding a microphone near your face ... and at just the optimal distance from your mouth.  And, of course, that optimal distance varies from mic to mic.  With some microphones, you must practically kiss the thing to get it to pick up your voice, which does nothing for the clarity of your speech.  In fact, the audience usually feels as if it is attending CLE in a bus terminal.  "Did he just say that the plaintiff had no standing or that the fifth bus is going to Mays Landing?"  And with other microphones, you have to hold it, say, 12-14 feet from lips for fear of deafening everyone in the audience.

That being said, the lav mic does have one serious drawback -- it is possible to inadvertently walk out of the room with it still on (something that would be extremely difficult to do with, say, a lectern microphone).  As a fledgling speaker, I'd often hear horror stories about speakers who visited the restroom with their mics still on.  I still remember thinking, "What kind of idiot would do such a thing?"  That is, until last month, when I learned just what kind of idiot would leave his lav mic on after a speech -- ME.

Now, in my defense, I was in the midst of a speaking trip in which I would speak in seven different cities in nine days.  To make matters worse, rather than scheduling these speeches in terms of geographical proximity, we had apparently scheduled them in alphabetical proximity.  "P falls between O and S in the alphabet, so let's have you speak in Oakland on Wednesday, Philadelphia on Thursday and San Francisco on Friday, just to keep things logical."  As a result, I had spent most of the week crisscrossing the country as if I was Carmen Sandiego, except that she is taken for more seriously.  I was simply too exhausted to realize what I was doing as I gathered my things and headed to the valet stand to retrieve my car for the drive back to the airport.

While waiting for my car, I was chatting with a young man about the recent Obama inauguration when, all of a sudden, the president of the organization came running towards me, waving frantically and mouthing, "Your mic is still on!"  I looked down, and sure enough, there was the green light on the battery unit.  I sheepishly handed over the equipment as we exchanged a quick laugh and she returned to their meeting, which was still in progress.  I was still laughing about the incident when it occurred to me that I had called my wife briefly after the talk; unknowingly broadcasting my part of the conversation to the room.  Uh oh!  Oakland, I think we have a problem.

I frantically tried to recall exactly what I said to my wife.  When she asked how the speech went, what did I say?  Did I reply with something generic like "Great" or "Fine," or had I elaborated?  "It would have been great except for this one fat, bald guy sitting in the front row with a light blue shirt and paisley tie.  He didn't laugh once at my jokes.  Is it my fault that his wife probably left him for the UPS man?  I think not!"  Trust me, I've said worse.

And that was precisely what I spent the rest of the day thinking about it -- had I made some horribly inappropriate remark that would reflect adversely on the organization, its leadership and perhaps, most importantly, my chances of receiving the balance of my fee?  Or had I just said something that would be appropriate if said privately to my wife, but not in a conversation being overheard by 200 strangers?

For instance, given that I hadn't been home in more than a week, perhaps we had talked about that special thing I would do for her when I returned home that Friday night (i.e., take the garbage cans out front; Saturday is trash day).  Or perhaps, we had discussed which one of us would be selling a kidney on eBay to replace the funds we lost in the stock market last year.

In any event, none of this would have been necessary had I not been so cavalier with the lavalier.  So please learn from my mistakes (I never seem to).  Never leave the room still wearing your lav mic.  And if your speaker attempts to do so, feel free to do whatever it takes to stop him, even if you have to put him in a full-nelson sleeper hold to do so.  He (and his wife) will thank you for it.  Trust me on this one!