So yesterday I got to give a talk on meditation at Facebook HQ in Menlo Park, California, and it was kind of a big deal because we brought in a film crew to capture it and that will become my first real demo video for my corporate speaking, which should open lots of doors for more opportunities like this.
But what I really want to talk about is dinosaur disappointment.
So I posted this picture of myself at Facebook HQ showing the advertisement for my talk on the ‘Megatron’ screen in the Facebook courtyard. Which was nice, except that there is no dinosaur!
I’m serious! There is this big evil mechanical monster thing in the Transformer movies called Megatron, which is not exactly a dinosaur, but I think it fights dinosaurs, so that’s pretty close. Now when the Facebook folks told me they have a Megatron in the courtyard, I thought, wow! I’ve can’t wait to see this! I mean what sensible adult wouldn’t want to see a real Megatron? And it made complete sense because Google have a life size T-Rex skeleton in their courtyard, and these tech companies are always trying to ‘out monster’ one another, so it would be simple common sense to erect a giant mechanical evil thing, that never existed except in a truly moronic movie, in the middle of the courtyard of your social media company.
How I was I to know that a Megatron is also the name for a big boring flatsceen TV? Big letdown.
But think about this. I already got lots of likes for the picture of me in front of the boring screen variety of Megatron. Imagine how many likes I would have gotten if, instead of that, I was in front of a huge mechanical dinosaur hitting type Megatron? And if there is anything Facebook should care about, it is LIKES, right? That’s why they have a big LIKE button at the front of their HQ Global Headquarters campus.
So I say, wake up Facebook, and get a proper Megatron for your courtyard. What were you thinking putting a blank screen there instead?
It reminds me of those Sea Monkeys that used to be advertised on the back of Donald Duck comics. You could order them by mail, and all you have to do is add water and they would come alive!
The picture on the box showed this charming little family of sea monkeys, They were pretty and blond, mounted upon sea horses, floating through an undersea palace. You could just imagine them, golden hair floating in the surge and pulse of the ocean in their silent miniature world. Drifting amongst pinnacles of pink coral, constellations of moon jellyfish floating overhead. Swimming through galleries of delicate shell statues of heroes, monsters and mermaids, above a bed of scattered jewels and breached treasure caskets, illuminated by lancing beams of light from a liquid sun.
The sea monkeys arrive in the mail after weeks of anticipation. You open the package with trembling hands, draw forth the bottle of dehydrated sea monkeys, carefully pour out a few of the magical granules into a bowl of water and wait for the miracle of life to begin.
After a few minutes, something grey and squishy appears in the water, and begins to move. It is joined by several others like it. That’s all there is. They do not have blond hair. They are not riding sea horses. There is no sign of an undersea palace. It is unclear whether or not they are actually alive. You stare at the grey squishy blobs in disappointment for a moment and turn away, sadder but wiser for the experience.
Now I’m not saying that my Megatron disappointment was on the level of the sea monkeys. It was just a familiar feeling.
Excuse me, I have to go. I have to measure our carpark to see if there might be room for a real Megatron there. When it is all set up and working, I’m going to invite my Facebook friends over so they can see how it’s done. I don’t know if they will have the courage to take my cue and get a genuine Megatron of their own, but one things for sure. No-one is going to out-monster me!