USANA 2010 Convention: Odd Jobs with Dave Baker (Part 1)

Editor’s Note: Blogger extraordinaire Dave Baker not only helped chronicle the 2010 USANA International Convention for What’s Up, USANA? readers, but he also tried his hand at various jobs that helped make #USANA10 tick. Over the next two days, Dave will give readers an inside look at some of these jobs.

I’ve been called a lot of names — deservingly so, I must say — but a Jack of all trades isn’t one of them.

For most of my life I’ve just been a Dave of a few unimportant, unimpressive things. I can touch my nose with my tongue. I will win my fair share of staring contests. For my age, my mother says I draw very nice stick figures. I’m a downright orchestral clicker of pens. And I can occasionally string some words into a semi-coherent sentence or two.

So, clearly, I have very few useful skills.

But this year’s Convention gave me a chance to go around and try my hand (read: mostly fail) at a few of the behind the scenes jobs that made #USANA10 such a break through.

Badge Scanner, Health & Freedom Solution Giveaway
The brand-spanking new Solution DVD had people abuzz when it was announced on Friday morning. Throughout the afternoon, floods of Associates came through to snag their free copy. Toward the end of the day, I thought it would be a nice gesture for me to go help. So I said to myself, “Dave, your feet are tired and those laser guns look like they’d be fun to play with, why don’t you go make yourself look busy?”

And I was right. I took off my blogger hat and picked up a scanner.

I immediately felt the scan gun giving me power. It coursed through my veins every time I pulled the trigger and saw the red line pop up on the tabletop. With scan gun in hand, I knew I was in charge. I practiced new and inventive ways of scanning badges — around the back, through the legs, over the shoulder, no-look, and spectacular, long-distance shots.

But mostly I sat and waited. Nobody wanted to come to my line. I think it had everything to do with my being too far away from the entrance, and absolutely nothing to do with my beard and general appearance.

Finally, my big moment came. A customer. I squeezed the trigger, pointed the scan gun at the barcode and I heard the beep, like it came from the mouth of a unicorn that had floated down on a cloud of cotton candy. Getting the beep of success — after spending so much time scanning shoes, faces, and arms — was so fulfilling I almost forgot to hand the guy his DVD.

Then it was back to the waiting and the scanning of pens, belly buttons, and sticks of gum.

Lounger, Parent Lounge
I always have to remind myself that I’m just as scared of kids as they are of me. So it was a good thing there weren’t any little tikes running around when I stopped by the Parent Lounge to do a bit of lounging of my own.

Lounging isn’t accurate, though. I got too distracted by all the awesome toys — Dora the Explorer games, blocks, and bowling — that I had to play. It took a while to convince to a couple of my co-workers to bowl with me, but a grown man can’t just play on a kiddie bowling set all by himself.

On my first turn I forced the tips of my fingers into the too-small holes of the bowling ball, took a Fred-Flintstone-style-tip-toe approach, and knocked down all but one pin.

I knew I had to knuckle down and pick up the spare — all of Convention would be a bust if I couldn’t knock over that remaining pin. I returned my fingertips to the holes and lined myself up. My gaze narrowed on that little red pin and my lungs inhaled in a rush. The little ball left my fingers and rolled straight down the carpet. The world slowed down as it approached the lone pin. When it struck, I heard the crowd in my head go wild. I had done it. Indescribably pathetic dancing ensued.

When nobody else in the group could beat or match my spare, I celebrated my victory by drawing a thumbs-up in my notebook.

Amateur Photographer, Various Locations
Over the years, I’ve found out my limitations. No matter how hard I try, I can’t juggle, touch my toes, or understand the appeal of vampirism. Also, I am not photogenic at all. That’s why it’s better for all involved if I remain behind the camera.

That doesn’t mean I’m a photographer. Far from it. I’m basically the ramen noodles of picture taking — I’m serviceable, cheap, will work in a pinch, but I’m no substitute for something real.

But, somehow, I took thousands of pictures during this year’s Convention. Some were poorly framed and slightly out-of-focus pictures for other people. Others were poorly framed and slightly out-of-focus pictures for this blog. What I’m trying to say is that they were all poorly framed and slightly out of focus, and I’m sorry.

This didn’t stop me from standing backstage at the EnergySolutions Arena gleefully snapping pictures of all of USANA’s awesome influencers. With Tim’s BlackBerry in one hand and his point-and-shoot camera in the other, I looked like a cheap paparazzi. I’m not sure it bothered the Priestleys, Ashlan Gorse, Jennifer Azzi, or Kathy Kaehler, though. They’re all accustomed to the chorus of fake shutter sounds produced by an adoring crowd.

It was a little rough at first. There were some dark pictures. I cut off the boss man, Dan Macuga’s, head in a couple. But I started to hit my stride. At one point I was snapping pictures with both cameras at the same time. Yeah. I was that good.

Not as good as in my one appearance in front of the camera. According to Ashlan, it was all about the beard magic.

Check back tomorrow for more of Dave’s adventures. By the way, this awesome idea to write about these jobs was hatched late during Convention, hence the reason for no (or few) photos of Dave actually doing the jobs he describes. But he did them. And he did them so-so. Promise.

We had an amazing time at #USANA10. We hope to see you at #USANA11. Register today online or call 1-888-950-9595!