The Macworld Prank
Words by John HargraveIllustrations by Al Natanagara
Artistically speaking, computer trade shows are a joke.
You enter one of these shows - SIGGRAPH, One BBSCON, or the grandpappy of them all, Comdex - and you are assaulted by chaos. Enormous Hollywood-produced shows are projected on three-story high screens. Scantily-clad spokesmodels hand out free junk. Bob Barker wannabes holler into wireless microphones. All for the purpose of getting you into their booth to buy stuff.
It sounds fun, yet they invariably have all the personality of mashed potatoes. Rather than leaving the convention feeling thrilled, you leave exhausted. How an industry as exciting as computers can steadfastly remain so stodgy is beyond me. Until the other day, when I found out.
It was time for the annual Macworld Expo at Boston's World Trade Center. I saw the opportunity for a little ZUG promotion, and figured my ideal target audience would be present. Macintosh users, yeah! Artists and entrepreneurs and hippies! I secured myself a pass and entered the convention center dressed in my ZUG T-shirt and baggy tie-dyed pants. Immediately I saw the gimmick that would get me noticed.
At one children's software booth there was a clown named Ooey Gooey making balloon hats. But not just any hats, mind you. Ooey Gooey's trademark was that his balloon hats were three feet high. He did all his balloon-twisting to excess. Ooey looked a little disheveled: his makeup a smeared mess, his purple wig just barely covering a decaying hairline.
I stood in queue and before long I was face to face with Ooey. "You rule, Ooey," said I.
He grunted.
"Oh no, now I've pissed him off," I thought frantically. "Sorry, didn't mean to make you mad, Ooey," I said.
"No, it's just been a long day." Ooey warmed up, and twisted me a six-foot balloon hat. "You're gonna get so much press coverage with this," said Ooey. "This one is great." He held up a mirror.
"Oh YEAH!" I screamed.
That was all I needed. I walked around Macworld for the next two hours, proclaiming the message. "ZUG IS THE WAVE OF THE FUTURE!" I yelled over the cacophany of cheesy music and canned speeches. "I come to you as a prophet! The message I have for you, friends, is the good news of ZUG!" People looked up from their mind-numbing Microsoft presentations at the loony with the six-foot balloon hat. "If ZUG weren't the wave of the future, would I be wearing this thing on my head?"
Eventually I pulled out the big guns. "In my right hand!" I yelled, "I have a free WINDOWS-ONLY screen saver! It's yours if you'll fill out the Thinly-Disguised ZUG Marketing Survey! I consider this to be the finest screen saver made in the twentieth century! There were some good ones made in the nineteenth century, but we don't wanna compete with those! It is yours for FREE!"
Well, FREE was the magic word. People began dripping off me like Karo syrup. So many in fact that a Macworld authority soon paid me a visit. "Could you tell me where your booth is, sir?" he asked, eyeing the small crowd and my balloon hat with a degree of suspicion.
"Well, there would be a problem with that," I confessed. "I have no booth, as such."
"We ask that vendors only hand out samples next to their booths," he said, clutching tightly to his walkie-talkie. "No more handouts."
The crowd, sensing danger, began to disperse. "Fair enough," I said, closing up my bag. "No more freebies."
Suddenly Ooey Gooey ran past me. "Hey man!" he yelled. "Wanna go take a break with me?"
"Sure!" I said. I had been yelling for hours, and my throat was parched.
Ooey Gooey was a spry, wiry fellow and I soon lost him in the crowd. Making my way to the front of the convention center, I found him buying a hot dog. "I gotta take a leak and have a smoke. I'll be back in the corner of the parking lot!" he yelled, sprinting away.
I bought a soda and found Ooey Gooey in a red van. As I approached, he was pouring liquid from a Snapple bottle onto the parking lot. With mild horror, I realized that the liquid in question was not Snapple.
"Ooey!" I yelled. "What are you doing?"
"Bathroom lines are too freakin' long in there, man," he said, chewing a mouthful of hot dog.
"What would the kids say, Ooey?"
"Call me Carl." He extended his hand, and we shook. "You smoke?"
"Not tobacco."
He grunted. "Man, it's been a long day," he said. "People have three jokes for clowns, you know that?"
"Tell me the three clown jokes," I pleaded.
He took a swig of his Coke. "One of them is, 'Hey, quit clowning around!' Another is, 'Send in the clowns.' The other one is, 'Could I have one of those penis-shaped balloons?'" He lit a pipe and took a draw. "I've heard every one of those a thousand times today."
With mild horror, I realized that the substance in the pipe was not tobacco. "Wanna smoke?" He offered the pipe to me.
"Thanks." I took it. "Ooey, you ever see that movie Shakes the Clown?"
"Oh, that's hilarious!" He glanced at his watch. "Damn, I've gotta go."
We ran back to the convention center, our travel punctuated by brief chats with every conceivable employee: security guards, policemen, snack booth attendants, ticket checkers. Apparently Ooey was well-loved.
All inhibitions gone, I now tackled my Macworld message with even more gusto. "When you go home today, there is one word I'd like you to remember!" I hollered. "Let that word not be Lotus! Let that word not be Apple! Let that word be ZUG! It's easy to spell and you can use it as a swear next time you slam your foot in a door!"
People stopped me and asked, "What's ZUG?" I launched into my speech: "It's the hip, cynical webzine of the future. It's for people who enjoy computers but still have a life. It's a steaming potpourri of silliness."
"Kind of like you," people said.
And then I made my fatal mistake. I began doing a televangelist character, which I took into the lobby of the convention center. "I have found the secret to life and it is ZUG!" I yelled to people in a thick Southern drawl. "But God's gonna call me up in a big fiery chariot if I don't get 30,000 hits on my web page by the end of the month!"
Another security officer approached me. "What are you doing?" he said, more confused than anything. "What are you yelling?"
"I'm just proclaiming the good news of ZUG," I stated calmly.
"What?" He scratched his head. "Uh, it's bad manners to do this in the lobby, to yell at people in this way."
"Fine," I said. "I won't do it in the lobby anymore." I went back inside and resumed yelling.
But the damage had been done. "Some people have said that ZUG cures hemmorhoids!" I shouted back on the main convention floor. "I can't say if this is true! I'm not a medical practitioner! But I do know that ZUG is good for you!" I glanced back to find that I had three security personnel tailing me: two women and a man.
I stopped. "Can I help you folks?"
They gazed at me warily. "Where is your booth, sir?" asked the older of the two women.
"At home," I replied.
"What company are you with?"
"I'm proclaiming the good news of ZUG."
"And what is ZUG?"
"It's my webzine."
"Mmm." They conferred with each other in a huddle. "We're going to have to ask you..." started the younger woman. She trailed off in mid-sentence.
"It's not..." said the man. "I mean, it's..."
They talked to each other some more. I waited patiently, adjusted my six-foot balloon hat.
The older woman stepped toward me. "You can't...ah..."
"Yell stuff?" I asked, gesturing at the sea of seething chaos all around me.
"No. It's just that you can't..."
"Advertise?" I pointed to the enormous ads filling the show floor.
"We ask all exhibitors to remain next to their booths," said the man.
"I've seen all sorts of companies wandering away from their booths today," I stated.
"The official policy," continued the older woman, "is that you may not advertise on the show floor. Next to your booth is fine, but not on the show floor."
"I'm simply talking loudly," I said. "Is that advertising?"
They nodded hesitantly.
"Have there been any complaints?"
"We don't want there to be any complaints," said the younger woman.
"So it's illegal?" I asked.
"Yes." The small group nodded. "It is illegal."
"Could I go outside and advertise?"
"Only one company is licensed with the city of Boston to advertise on the grounds. They had to obtain a permit."
"So how can I get my message out in a more tactful manner?" I asked.
"Buy a booth," offered the young woman.
"Aren't those a lot of money?" I asked. "Thousands of dollars?"
They stared at me.
"Does it make you kind of mad that you have to reason with me while I'm wearing this enormous balloon hat?"
Again they stared at me.
"Guess I'll leave now." I picked up my bag and stopped by Ooey Gooey. "Thanks for the extremely unusual day," I said, shaking his hand.
"No problem, man!" He stuck a balloon hat on a child, pointing at me. "That's the ZUG dude."
