Waffle: [wof-uhl] a directionless presentation characterized by the presenter’s need to “flip” the subject matter every two minutes to keep it from burning.
Ah, waffles. They are the hallmarks of the Quick Bread family, with their hot and airy composition and distinctly porous surface, perfect for holding copious amounts of syrup et al. While these are all features that sell—pardon the expression—like hot cakes, they do not translate to the stage very well. A hot, airy presentation riddled with holes doesn’t taste good in the mouth. No, it tastes like the charred remains of the cash spent hiring the speaker.
The Waffler—that is, the guy on stage that has no clue why he’s there or what he’s going to say—is typically an overconfident, yet intellectually deficient, character convinced that a strong jaw line, not words, gets results. In the days leading up to the presentation, while his colleagues rehearse their talking points in front of mirrors and friends, he visits the tanning bed, buys a power tie, and catches up on his “Touch of Gray” Just for Men applications. He looks vibrant and experienced, just like they say.
It isn’t until the lights dim and he’s contemplating the unique wood grain of the podium (what kind of wood is that, anyway?) that he realizes he knows nothing about the topic at hand, or to whom he is speaking. So he just starts talking, covering such scintillating topics as his relationship with his mother, generically funny things about marriage, and what to look for in purebred poodles. At the end of the hour, his only hope is that this was a lunch break presentation and not a summit people traveled for. That “Touch of Gray” can look a little sheepish in the limelight.
The Takeaway: This is pretty basic. Speak about things you know, organize your thoughts, and follow the script. That waffling happens at all raises serious concerns about humanity.
