“Chris Aces Speech being his Goofy Self”
HennSchtickSwagg Hennessy (me) 😅 presented at the recent Sonoma County Writers Conference
Being a featured speaker at the Sonoma County Writers Conference on Oct. 19 was a phenomenal blessing after a distressing summer.
Betsy and I thank all who prayed and sent uplifting energy during my Pleural Effusion Festival, featuring several liters of frightful fluid in the left lung.
We believe your prayers, thoughts, and love helped stop the fatal flow and save my life.
Thank you, God, for listening.
Instead of being cremated, which appeared to be my fate, I was psyched and ready times infinity for my hour-and-a-half presentation on a fine stage in a grand room at Finley Center, Santa Rosa, CA.
Tweaking and improving my PowerPoint presentation the week of the gig was worth the twenty-three hours of effort.
I knew my stuff and was categorically confident.
Oy Vey, the night before my conference speaking gig certainly didn’t pan out as I’d wished.
I’m not an early riser and typically don’t sleep well when I must set the alarm. The night before the conference, I set my alarm for 5:30 a.m.
Betsy and I lay down at 10 p.m. I’d be good to go on three or four hours of sleep. After the three-and-a-half-hour roundtrip drive, attending the seminars from 8 a.m. until 3:10 p.m., baring my soul from 3:15 to 4:45, I’d be significantly spent but could sleep in and rest all day Sunday.
At 10:35 p.m., Hannah unexpectedly became wretchedly sick in the bathroom and spent the next several hours in potty seclusion with Betsy.
It was awful, and my heart ached for my princess, but she was in the best hands with her #1 mom.
Earplugs and music drowned out the horror happening on the other side of the bathroom door. I prayed for Hann to be rid of the bug and for myself not to get it, especially during my conference exploit. Please, God, anything but that.
I remained calm and comfortable and assumed sleep was imminent.
Betsy slithered into bed at 5:25 a.m. I turned off my alarm after not achieving sleep for circa the fourth out of twenty-four thousand nights. Ugh.
I entered into a mindset I learned from Tony Robbins. Tony talked for two hours about preparing our minds to walk over an eight-foot-long bed of hot coals (1300F). I wasn’t going to participate, but I decided to try it after Tony’s talk. My daughter, Heather, and I were successful—an epic over-the-rainbow daddy-daughter adventure.
This was going to be an enriching journey. I will treasure my endeavor.
I left the house at 6:07 a.m. for the hour and forty-minute drive with my laptop bag, a large dark roast Peet’s coffee, a gallon of water, two Think Thin bars and a pack of raw almonds.
Driving trafficless in the early morning sunlight with sweet music circulating at the speed of sound made me feel fine. Creative thoughts exited from my prefrontal cortex as I hecka hydrated and simultaneously caffeinated. (Yes, there were two quick pee-pee stops)
I don’t get nervous before speaking. I’m at home on stage. It’s the usual outdated AV equipment that stresses me. I arrived at 8 a.m. for the 9 a.m. keynote start, which worked perfectly because the AV person, Elisha, hooked me up with proper PowerPoint and audio cables and connections. I securely placed my video equipment backstage (I’d film my talk) so I didn’t have to schlep it later. Phew.
I attended all the presentations, met, chatted, and networked with excellent writer folk, but skipped the 2 p.m. seminar to get mentally prepared for my 3:15 p.m. workshop.
I was exhausted but had remained ready like an MLB relief pitcher who’d enter the ninth inning with the game on the line after riding the pine for eight innings.
I escaped the Finley Center’s artificial light and air, stretched my rigid hamstrings while facing the sun on a nearby picnic table, and walked a slow mile through the park’s greenbelt on a sunny, pleasant afternoon. I left my mind alone and did slow, deep breathing exercises, enjoying gentle breezes caressing my face while passing a bird choir performance in the trees. Listening to nature in stereo and seeing kids running and playing and not on devices uplifted me.
I’d filled my Yeti with Red Bull on ice. Occasional gulps moistened my dry mouth, quenched, refreshed, and got me through the ninety-minute 9th inning.
I walked briskly to the back row of chairs behind the audience and pressed the record button on my professional video camera. I jammed backstage, grabbed my Yeti, sped around the corner, sauntered onto the stage, grabbed the mic off the stand, and introduced the woman who was about to introduce me. Getting a good laugh on your first bit is every speaker’s goal. I got a good first laugh after saying two sentences. (see video)
I was jazzed and in the zone. Nothing existed except the crowd, me, and my PowerPoint. The time passed quickly, and everything went superbly, even better than I’d envisioned.
After persevering through a very long day and then killing my speech, hanging out and hearing feedback from folks was the cream cheese icing on the cake. (see video)
I was in runners-high heaven driving home with the windows down, the Grateful Dead blowin in the wind, knowing that a cozy, restful evening with my family was happening when this journey ended.
Maps took my Kia and me WAY around the wine country traffic.
The hour and forty-minute drive home would have taken two and a half hours if we had used the main highways. Maps miraculously led me home in two hours on primarily back roads, two wonderful hours spent experiencing one of the finest wine-growing regions in the solar system.
Is this the right way? After not seeing another vehicle for ten minutes, I briefly thought Maps might be purposely trying to confuse me.
Charming scenery and not-too-windy one-lane roads through narrow, tucked-away valleys with fields of vineyards nestled in their luscious meadows, grapevines galore climbing the Sonoma hillsides like a stairway to wine heaven made for abundant postcard possibilities.
I considered buying a bottle of Duckhorn Merlot, which would have enhanced my aura’s euphoria. However, making it home alive was a higher priority.
And in the End
That gig was the most healthy trek for me and my HennSchtickSwag existence.
I accomplished that with stage four cancer. I love all ya’s and believe in every one you. You have no idea what you can do unless you start doing it.
Also, I will soon follow up with what Substack calls a video post, including several short Best-of-Highlight videos from my talk at the Sonoma County Writers Conference—epic free laffs and business/life tips.
A thirty-second lesson on The Power of Networking from Hennessy’s talk. (see video below).
