Typing the words “Leadership Team Development” into Google, the first suggested autocomplete adds on the words “pyramid scheme.” That’s the “summit” that’s taking place near my hotel in St. Louis. I know they use the word summit because it was explained to me by a participant. They have quarterly meetings, but the summit is the peak – for those who have climbed or are climbing. The summit here in St. Louis will draw about 30,000 people and my hotel is flooded with them.
As such, I’m in full-on observation mode. At breakfast this morning, I came across three political t-shirts reading: “Resist Socialism,” “I stand for the Flag and Kneel for the Cross,” and “We the People Shall Not Be Cancelled.” I’ve seen quite a few pieces of flag related or flag adorned attire. I’m guessing the Leadership Team Development (LTD) crowd leans MAGA. A friend who lives in the area said it was an Amway conference – steer clear.
I’m uninformed about these things, so I returned to my room to google and find out more. Whooo-boy, lots of complaints about the cult-like aspects of Amway and Leadership Team Development; lots of references to pyramid schemes, several mentions of “Christian values,” and, of course, ties (donations) to right-wing politics. The complaints on the Better Business Bureau use asterisks instead of the business name probably out of fear for lawsuits and retribution. As someone fascinated by human psychology, I’d love to talk to some of the attendees to capture the language they use and the fervor they feel.
In person, you can almost see and feel the devotion and grift in the faces and movements of the people attending. It’s a strange mix of enthusiasm, conviction, and desperation. The few minutes I’ve spent observing have felt like an in-person midday television show (“The People’s Court”) or midday television commercials (Chia Pet followed by the Clapper followed by some sketchy nutritional supplement followed by reverse mortgages and supplemental life insurance). I’m torn between following my friend’s advice and steering clear and wanting to do an under-cover investigation. Me, channeling my inner Jordan Klepper hoping to finger the pulse of America. I’m pretty sure, I’ll steer clear and walk around the city instead.
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Yesterday, I left Memphis around 1pm. I went to the river one last time where I wrote a short poem for my new friend. I sat outside one of my favorite coffee shops where I saw the new mayor-elect, and then I hit the road. The drive, a little under five hours, felt long. For some reason, Google maps took me along route 67 through Jonesboro and Paragould as opposed to the more direct route along I-55. I saw plenty of massive farms and grain silos.
I got in to town (St. Louis) a little before 6pm. The hotel lobby was packed with people waiting to check in – the computer systems were down. One woman sat in the corner loudly making passive comments for everyone to hear. “You’d think they could get this figured out.” “I won’t be staying here again.” She then snapped at her husband because he came back from waiting in line and didn’t have any new information, “you go back there and tell them that you need an update.” Despite the chaos, the staff had been able to confirm some reservations by hand, after which they’d escort you up to your room (because they couldn’t issue individual room keys). I dropped my stuff off in my room and went out to dinner. An odd feature in the room is that you need a room key to turn on the main lights, and I didn’t feel like sitting around in the dark. I found an Irish pub not too far away. There, the bartender had an Irish accent and said fook more than a few times – a colorful character with a cheery yet grumpy disposition (his back had been tweaked for a few days).
When I got back to the hotel to pick up my room key, I found out that they had accidentally put someone else in my room. As they were trying to fix it, the person they put in my room called down to say that someone’s stuff was in his room. They had him (an older gentleman traveling with a shy and skeptical black Scottish Terrier) come down to get reassigned to a new room. At the same time, the hotel staff sent me on my way with my room key. Unfortunately, when I got up to my room, the room smelled a little like wet dog and I saw that my bag had been moved and opened. It was a WTF moment. Though not great, I can understand the mix-up on the hotel’s end. Their systems were down and they were in panic mode. What I couldn’t figure out is what type of sick, demented, psychopath opens someone else’s bag? He probably let his dog pee in it too. But seriously. There’s no mistaking it for your own stuff. It’s not like you walk into the room for the first time and think, “hmmm… that looks like one of my bags, I should probably check it out.” Like, you unequivocally know it’s not yours, so, leave it be. And sure, maybe he thought he could find an id or something – but the reasonable thing to do is get in touch with the front desk. Nothing else needs to be done. Were I to check into a room and see someone else’s stuff in there, I’d go back to the lobby without touching their stuff. As best as I can tell, he didn’t go through anything – but still!!!
While off to an inauspicious start, I’m hoping that things get better here in St. Louis.