Open Your Mouth and Say Ahh

“Pat!” his mom cried out. “What are you doing? Those are the last popsicles in the house.”

It was August 1981 and Tacoma had an unprecedented run of plus 90⁰ weather. The homes on North Frace were built in the 1950s and none had central air. Pat’s mom was saving the popsicles for after dinner, but Pat needed the popsicle sticks. So, he had unwrapped the four popsicles and let them melt in the sink.

“Sorry, mom. I need the sticks.” ten-year old Pat said sheepishly.

“There will be no dessert tonight. Wail ‘til I tell your father.” his mom added.

Pat nodded, collected the popsicle sticks and headed to the back yard. He opened the spigot on the hose. Took a drink. The popsicle sticks were stained purple and Pat did his best to make the sticks pristine.

Pat and Mary, the 11-year old girl across the street, had a plan. She had collected her father’s rubber mallet and Q-tips. They were going to take turns playing doctor. It was an innocent game. Open your mouth and say ahh. Look in your ears. Check the reflexes on your knees. They were too young and scared for a more thorough examination. They would have a few more examinations before her family moved just before school started.

Pat smiled. He always recalls that afternoon before a big sales day.

It was hot today too. It’s Vegas in August of course it’s hot. Pat had a booth on the floor, center aisle, Booth #4091. He paid a premium for the spot; he was banking on the foot traffic to drive sales. This event could make or break his year. It was the Healthcare Supply Chain & Procurement Conference.

Pat had been coming for years; first as a buyer, then a rep. For the last fifteen, Pat was running his own show, Sullivan Medical Supplies. He sold consumables: rubber gloves, swabs, alcohol wipes, gauze pads. And, of course Pat’s personal favorite – the tongue depressor. Larger than a popsicle stick but it always put a twinkle in his eye. He had checked in the night before with the other vendors. He had his orange supplier badge. Buyers wore blue badges.

Despite the booth’s location, despite the value Pat and his products could bring, he knew every booth needed a gimmick. It’s Health Care plenty of booths will hand out water, sun screen, workout videos. It’s a convention; people want something fun. They live healthy 51 weeks a year. Pat had arranged something special with catering. Popsicles made with Sullivan Medical Tongue Depressors. Cherry, Grape, Lime, Orange. Ten thousand popsicles. Seven hundred dollars in popsicles and a waiter to keep the ice chests full of popsicles. Pat knew a lot of those tongue depressors would make it upstairs to the buyers’ rooms.

Pat’s plan was working like a charm. Pat chuckled to his assistant Marge, “The popsicles are moving like hotcakes.” Pat wanted to cruise the floor. See some old colleagues and see how the other booths were fairing. There were mega-booths with all sorts of laser and radiological equipment. Other booths offering enterprise information systems.

Pat walked the floor with a different eye. He looked for the meat and potato booths. Cleaning supplies, office supplies, vendors who supplied the cafeterias. His competitors in examination consumables. Vendors who supplied examination tools: the reflex hammer, the focused flashlight, old school stethoscope and blood pressure cuff.

“Heh, popsicle stick man!” called someone on the floor. Pat nodded and handed the man a tongue depressor. Pat carried them like business cards. Pat was becoming something of a celebrity. Everyone wanted a tongue depressor and Pat told all to come by #4091 for a popsicle.

Pat texted Marge, “How’s the book?”. Marge replied, "Filling up fast.” Pat was pleased; Marge was handling the sales. “I’m going to work on plan B.” Pat texted back. “Understood,” replied Marge.

Pat wanted to offer all items needed in the examination room. He wanted to join forces with an instrument supplier. Where he had the customers, bring instruments. Where they had the customers bring consumables. Pat would visit three booths. He wanted to get the vibe for their product, their management, their progressiveness.

Pat ruled out MorningStar Instruments, a Chinese firm willing to do business with anyone. Pat also ruled out Meineken GmbH, a German outfit which was only interested in complete control of Sullivan Medical. Pat was feeling his plan B might be plan Broken.

Lacey Medical Instruments, LMI, was left. Pat would visit their booth #4099; it was in the same “block” as Sullivan Medical. He would collect the literature, peruse the product and see if their management were at the show. There were clipboards with time slots to meet with LMI management and sales reps.

Pat placed his name on the clipboard for the LMI, President – Ms. Lacey. She must have been on the floor now as Pat did not find her at the booth. Like everyone else who visited #4099, Pat grabbed the light and looked in the mannequin’s ear. He also tried the reflex hammer on the LMI rep designated to sit for knee reflexation. Pat’s appointment was at 11:30 an hour from now.

Back at #4091, Marge was racking up the sales and the popsicles remained a hit. “Pat, we are running well ahead of last year’s commits. And, everybody wants a popsicle - buyers, vendors, event staff, even the security guards.” Pat decided to work the popsicle stand for a while, “Take a break, Marge. I have an appointment at 11:30 with LMI. Could you be back by 11:15. They are just a few booths down.”

Pat was passing out popsicles, brochures, samples. He would check out the badges as he was working the booth.  Were they a potential customer or just someone looking for a popsicle and a tongue depressor to play doctor later. The MorningStar contingent came by in mass. Pat added sales calls for the afternoon with Kaiser, Sutter Health and Evergreen Medical. Conventioneers just kept helping themselves to the popsicles. Marge returned.

Pat gathered himself, readying his pitch for LMI. He grabbed a grape popsicle as an ice breaker. Pat was directed to a desk LMI had set up at the back of their booth. Lacey was running late from a sales call. Pat understood, but hoped she would show up before the popsicle melted. He only waited a few minutes before she approached the desk. She smiled as she was finishing one of Pat’s popsicles already. “Is that for me?” she asked, “It will be my third. I hope you don’t mind.” She smiled.

Pat knew that smile. “Mary? Mary Lacey from North Frace. I hadn’t made the connection.” He could care less about business at that moment.

“Pat? From across the street!” her eyes lit up. She dropped the popsicle and gave Pat a big hug. The staff at the LMI booth watched in astonishment.

“Barry, watch the booth Pat and I are going to lunch.” Pat smiled as Mary always did take charge. “Is that ok, Pat?”

“Absolutely, let’s stop by my booth really quick.” And, they were off.

“Marge, Mary and I are going to lunch.”

“Mary?” Marge asked. “Yes. Mary from North Frace … and LMI.” Pat answered.

Mary and Pat were inseparable. They covered 30 years in 30 minutes. They started to run around the convention like they had run around the neighborhood. Marge and Barry had to rearrange their schedules. They were taking meetings together. Over dinner they merged the companies. They laughed as they came up with the name Frace Medical Instruments & Supplies.

Pat saw the look in Mary’s eye and sat up straight. “Pat, grab the popsicle sticks. We have to complete the physical examinations before this merger is complete.”