What of M&Ms, rock stars, and divas? The rock band Van Halen had an infamous clause in their contract saying there could be no brown M&Ms backstage, or the promoter would forfeit the entire show at full price.

It turns out that the bowl of M&Ms had a purpose:  It was an indicator of whether the concert promoter had read the band’s complex contract.

“If I came backstage … and I saw brown M&Ms on the catering table, then I guarantee the promoter hadn’t read the contract rider, and we would have to do a serious line check of the entire stage setup.”

—David Lee Roth, lead singer

Not many people know this about me but when I was in college back in the 80s, I majored in jazz guitar.

One night, I splurged and went out to an expensive dinner club where Hank Jones, the legendary pianist was performing.  Jones had played and recorded with a long list of jazz icons like John Coltrane and Miles Davis.

I was just a kid but I saw my opportunity to be one step removed from jazz history.  After his first set I steeled my resolve.

Hank Jones went to the bar
and I sat right down beside him.

“I’m really enjoying your playing,” I said.

Yeah, you’re right. That was a lame compliment but how do you start a conversation with a living legend of jazz when you’re a 22-year-old white kid who has about 3 standard tunes in his repertoire?

To my surprise and delight, Hank Jones spent his entire break talking with me about who I listened to and what tunes I was learning and what they were teaching in the jazz program.

35 years later, I still cherish 

the memory of that meeting!

A few months after that concert, another great jazz pianist (who shall remain nameless) came to perform at that same dinner club.  Seeking the same inspiration, I again scraped my pennies together and bought a ticket.

This time, though I got a direct introduction from a member of the music faculty, all I received was a nod and an indifferent handshake.

What was the difference between these two artists?

Both were talented and famous.

Both were playing in the same venue under the same circumstances.

One was a professional 

and the other was a diva!

I’m not famous, but I have experienced a taste of this from the other side.  When you’re a speaker and you’re up on stage with the lights on, people in the audience assume you’re some sort of celebrity.

They want autographs.

They want to buy books.

They want to take selfies with you.

It can all be a little overwhelming, especially if you’re an introvert like me who spent 15 years living on a sailboat (though that’s another story).

“Serving the audience is priority 1.” 

Whether you like the attention or not, signing autographs and posing for pictures is part of the job.

Deal with it!

And the best part is when someone from the audience expects you to act high and mighty … and then you sit down with them after your performance and enjoy a friendly chat—just like Hank Jones did with me so many years ago.

Because someone famous got off the stage and took the time to inspire some kid in the audience, I still play guitar today.  That’s a powerful example of how one performance given by one compassionate artist can change someone’s life forever.

Though a ban on brown M&Ms might have a purpose, self-serving requests usually tell you that the stage lights and the audience’s praise have gone to a speaker‘s head.

Move on and find someone who’s interested in making you look good and inspiring your audience.