I swear, every other vehicle on I-10 coming back into town today was a truck carrying an "Oversize Load." As if my windshield didn't have enough cracks already.
First of all, my wireless access in Austin was shit-tay these last few days. Posting that entry on Sunday was the last time I've been online until today, so I apologize to everyone I didn't hook up with.
Sunday night was what I'll call the "Cautionary Example" evening. I played Rock Band for the first time at the FT party. My debut performance was singing Weezer's "Say It Ain't So," and according to the game, I am a "messy" vocalist. The party was held in the BSide offices up on Brazos, with such luminaries as Doug Super High Me Benson and Michael Melvin Goes to Dinner Blieden in attendance. Cacky and Melissa from deadCenter showed up about halfway through and spirited me away to the Alamo South for the Nerdcore Rising premiere and then to Maggie Mae's. The last four two hours of that evening are something of a blur, but I managed to make it back to the hotel without incident.
Rising at the crack of noon, I lurched over to the Alamo Ritz to take my place in line for Explicit Ills, sort-of starring Paul Dano and Rosario Dawson. From there it was on to the Paramount to line up for Forgetting Sarah Marshall, the latest from the Apatow gang.
There was already some talk about the growing trend of studios/filmmakers saving seats at their SXSW premieres (apparently only about 12 badge holders got into Explicit Ills on Saturday), and after getting into Sarah Marshall, Mark, Don, and I noticed that at least 100 seats had been blocked off by Universal for cast, crew, and contest winners. We at FT aren't in the habit of sending the entire crew to the same movie (unlike certain other web sites), but it's become something of a tradition for us to attend at least one premiere together (last year was Knocked Up). Seeing all the reserved seats soured us a bit on the experience, however, and Mark and I elected to bail, in the hopes that at least two of the couple hundred still lined up would be able to enjoy the film.
And it allowed us to join the Rainbow Around the Sun crew for more drinkage. Don got out of Sarah Marshall and we checked out...another Rock Band party, this one thrown by Next New Networks. Drinks were free, and I was fully prepared to give my all to "Suffragette City," but unclear technical issues ended the gaming early (perhaps Bowie, fearing my mad skillz, threw a wrench into the works somehow. Mark did take his shirt off to promote the site, however. So that's...something. After that it was to the apparently doomed Ginger Man for a few farewell beers.
As always, I have returned from SXSW in need of extended detox and a couple days' sleep. And the hope that I never hear the word "mumblecore" again.