Talking heads

I'm not the CEO of a household-name consumer electronics gotta-have-it device company, yet. So I spend a lot of time drinking a lot of decaf (and the occasional half-caf) with a lot of other CEO wannabes in a lot of our fair city's coffee shops. There's at least two on every block, and very few are Starbucks.


Some people call this networking. Some call them meetings. As in your cell phone rings while you're showing your fellow wannabe the latest widget on your web site, and you answer it with, "Can I call you back? I'm in a meeting."


I calls it like I sees it -- my daily or twice daily or even three times a day constitutional.


Often these get-togethers are a dud. You know everyone in the room, you've heard their story a dozen times, you've opened your contact database to them on more than one occasion.


But sometimes you hit pay dirt.


Boulder Open Coffee Club meets every other Tuesday at the ungodly hour of 8 a.m. (half-caf definitely in order) at a fine establishment called The Cup.


I didn't recognize him at first, because it's probably been a year since we've talked. But he came up to me after all the newbies had introduced themselves and the "cocktail party" segment of the club began. I didn't even recognize his name, but that's not surprising given the mid-life syndrome more and more of us succumb to every day, CRS (can't remember shit).


But once he mentioned his former company's name -- a local consumer electronics firm that has hit the big time -- it all fell into place. "You are somebody I really need to talk to," I cried. "I'm so glad you recognized me."


He gave me his new card with his new 411, and I promised to set up a coffee meeting pronto.