Belligerent Rejectamenta

So I’m in Los Angeles on business, which is significantly less glamorous than it sounds. I’ve never been to the West Coast before, and when I fly home, I’ll be able to claim having seen less than a half-dozen square blocks. Thoughts of wandering downtown L.A. and taking in the sights filled my head until the first day on the convention show floor had me on my feet for 12 hours straight.

Fuck a bunch of walking around after the show closes.

Instead, I’m staying cloistered in my hotel room, shoeless, hoping my feet recover before tomorrow has me on my feet for another 8 hours. Still, all is not lost. The show I’m working is Wired NextFest, a showcase of technology and ideas that all have one thing in common: they make it abundantly clear I’m living in the future.

Day one was 2500 kids and teachers in the morning, and miscellaneous press and the occasional VIP celebrity roaming through in the afternoon and evening. Steven Weber stopped by with his kids to check out our exhibits, and was actually interacting with the plebes, but the few emo-kid rockstar types that rolled through were always escorted by a PR drone handler, who would attempt to explain what our exhibits were, despite having nary a clue what any of it was. It was amusing to listen to from a distance, but annoying to hear PR goobers get it so laughably wrong, rather than descend from their lofty heights to actually, you know, ask the people who do this for a living.

Day one highlight:

Buzz Fucking Aldrin

Stay tuned, all four of you. More to come.