Tunbridge Wells Luncheon Club

My first speaking engagement last month was on 3 April for a ladies' luncheon club in Tunbridge Wells. I got the 05.20 coach from Bournemouth to Victoria (so much cheaper than the train!) and our very well-spoken driver announced that no-one should drink alcohol, smoke, eat hot food or pee with the loo seat down. He then told us to enjoy our trip. That will be difficult, I thought; he's just banned every pleasure known to Man! Seriously, I wouldn't do any of the above but I did marvel at how fresh he made an announcement which he must have made so many times sound.

Something else I don't do (well, not very often and certainly not at this time of year) is swimming but, nevertheless, I had managed to develop a condition called Swimmer's Ear which causes muffled hearing and a runny discharge but I was more worried about the latter as far as the upcoming talk was concerned.

There have been times in the past when my ears have been blocked (listening to music, comedy - and yes, speeches - too loudly on headphones, plus a period when I had to wear wax earplugs to try and get some sleep when I had the Neighbours-from-Hell left quite a build-up!) but this never gave me problems with public speaking other than struggling to hear questions from the audience. Once you get into the habit of projecting your voice adequately for the size of room and audience, you can 'feel' how loud you are.

Public Speaking Tip #188: Voice projection becomes second nature over time - even if you develop a hearing problem.

But my right ear started running during the journey and plagued me for most of the day...

The coach got into Victoria an unprecedented 30 minutes early and I had breakfast, went through the papers for topical gags for the radio presenters I write for and then caught the train to Tunbridge Wells, once again with my ear giving me problems.

Tunbridge Wells (or Royal Tunbridge Wells, to give it its proper name) is a very attractive town - even when you struggle to find the venue where you are booked to speak. It is also very hilly - the area where the Spa Hotel is located is called Mount Ephraim. After going off in totally the wrong direction and ending up about a mile away from where I was supposed to be, me walking, my ear still running, I managed to get there a few minutes before the lunch was due to start.

The club dates back to the 1950s when it was mixed and, like so many in those days, attended by hundreds. Today it is a ladies' club and still attracts a very respectable attendance of around 65.

The meal was very enjoyable (their Chairman, Mrs Paddy Day, was most insistent that I should eat her pudding as well and who was I to argue?) but I was a little quiet due to the hearing problem.

As it was, I was asked to use a microphone anyway. Wireless mics can sometimes be problematic when there are low ceilings so I made sure I was standing in a good spot. Another problem was when I was briefly bathed in a golden shaft when a burst of sunlight came through one of the overhead windows.

I first came across this occasional hazard for speakers a decade ago when I delivered an entire talk in front of a window at New Milton Community Centre only to be made aware afterwards that the audience had been perhaps been more dazzled by the sunlight coming through the window immediately behind me than anything in my speech! Since then, it's been something that I watch out for, either drawing curtains beforehand or moving to a slightly different spot - as I did on this occasion.

Public Speaking Tip #189: When you speak, you should give some consideration to what is behind you as well as in front, such as windows where dazzling light could come in or any other potential distractions.

They were an excellent audience (I have mentioned before how good they are in Kent) and I was just sorry that I could only partly hear the laughter but, as usual, I was taping it. Fortunately my ear behaved itself in other ways while I spoke!

After the talk, I sat in the hotel, wrote some more gags, emailed them by Blackberry and then walked out into the town, this time knowing where I was going! Tunbridge Wells is a fascinating place and I would one day like to explore it when I have more time and am not carrying bags with all my speaking props, etc (although these were a bit lighter thanks to the luncheon club ladies buying a decent number of booklets).

In Calverley Road, I reflected on the fact that the people you wish were timid about speaking in public never seem to be, for example, the extremely pushy chuggers (for overseas readers, chuggers - short for 'charity muggers' - are employed to accost shoppers in precincts to try to sign them up for monthly donations, the first year or two of these simply going to pay the chuggers' wages and commissions!) Then there was the remarkably inhibitionally-challenged young man in a silly hat who danced around and shouted in people's faces that the world was about to end. Pick on the wrong person, I thought, and his just might...

After trying unsuccessfully to find anywhere selling a book about the 18th century master of ceremonies Richard 'Beau' Nash, who is perhaps almost as much associated with Tunbridge Wells as he is with Bath, I set off home.

On the train back to London, there was a third example of someone totally lacking in self-consciousness: a young mother reading a Dr Seuss book very loudly to her two under-fives. Muffled hearing or not, by the time we reached Charing Cross, I had been made fully aware of every possible rhyming objection to a particular dish, all expressed in only fifty words! (And now I can honestly say that I too do not like Green Eggs and Ham, Irritated-Man-I-am).

Postscript: I received a lovely testimonial letter from Paddy Day of the luncheon club shortly afterwards:

"From all the complimentary comments, you will certainly be taking a larger size in hats! You 'came alive' when you spoke to us and we thoroughly enjoyed your amusing anecdotes".

She added that she hoped I had a pleasant journey back home. Well, runny ear and Dr Seuss aside, not too bad, but that bit about me 'coming alive' raises an interesting point. Even though I was a little quieter than usual anyway during this particular lunch due to my hearing problem, people have often commented that they cannot believe how anyone who seems as reserved as me can suddenly become so lively later on as a speaker. Some even begin to have doubts about whether they should have booked me - until they hear me start to speak (and I must confess to sometimes deriving a perverse pleasure from surprising them in this way; it's a wonderful 'hidden power' for a shy person!)

Public Speaking Tip #190: Speakers who are not natural extroverts should at least 'come to life' during their presentations. With experience, this becomes almost second nature.

As my public speaking tutor Angela Brennan told me: 'You must be alive, vital, in control of your space'.