 Introduction FRIDAY, MARCH 9 Breaking Bread The Balcony at Iron Cactus What's 6'6" and bluish-orange? PB and WMF All hail Jish, Savior of Our Seats Lance Arthur, Master of Understated Elegance Hey, Macarena!! Blink, damn you! BLINK! Lounging at Lovejoy's SATURDAY, MARCH 10 Dignity. Always dignity. Ms. B, Miss M and Halcyon At Courtney & Lane's House Objects next to Ryan... SUNDAY, MARCH 11 The Halcyon Experience It's a beautiful page... Take off every zig! My audience with Abdul Fray Cafe Meeting the Monkey Sixfoot6 and Kinsey6 Into the Fray Praying to the Pumpkin Ow! Oh! Do it again! Touched by a monkey On the way to Katz's Deli Moist men in a mirror MONDAY, MARCH 12 Your ride is here, Mr. Graham! Dinner at Stubb's Later, at the bar... No, ma'am, he doesn't have ID Hot monkey love Monkey business Monkey in his natural habitat Dan, Dan, the billiard man Trouble with a capital "P" He's even better at air hockey For love of the game... Blame Canada. Last call at Stubb's Next time on Crossfire... Yeah, he looks innocent, but Uh-oh... ...and then the police showed up. TUESDAY, MARCH 13 The Adaptive Path Party Up on the roof Sweet as syrup... And then we called Firda WEDNESDAY, MARCH 14 Matt goes clicks-and-mortar Bart's Axe Bart's Other Axe Rock & Sex & Drugs & Roll Austin Civic Opera guitar Yes, those are real nails... An uncommon mirror shot Kilroy was here Hot, rotating, vertical pork  Comments or questions about this scrapbook? Do you have your own gallery of SXSW memories on the web you'd like to share? Interested in going next year? Drop me a line!
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Forward 
The list of details I had to attend before I left St. Louis for SXSW was long and growing longer, even as my departure time neared. Trying to schedule a week away just a few days before opening our final (and biggest) show of the season was madness. What was I thinking? In the end, I delegated everything and bummed a ride to the airport. I needed this. My experience at the previous year's conference had been a remarkably re-energizing one, and my creative batteries were getting low. (Batteries! Did I remember the batteries for my camera?!) I arrived at Lambert with about an hour to kill (and, yes, with the batteries), which was fortunate because I had to join a long line of spring break revelers to check in for my flight. I made it to the gate in time to sit for minute and gather my wits. A long shadow crossed my carry-on. "Are you Brad?" the shadow asked. I looked up at the shadow's source, the ever-so-tall Aaron Coleman, making his connection bound for Austin, same flight as me. We chatted briefly, boarded and my stress just fell away. Well, "fell" might be a bit of an overstatement. I forced the stress of with a couple of Bloody Marys. By wheels-down in Texas, I was ready for the week. I claimed my car, found the garage with more alacrity than last year and tooled into the city. It was about 5:30 p.m. I had about an hour and a half to grab my conference credentials, find my hotel, check in, wash my face, find the restaurant and join 40 or 50 of my friends for a dinner I had organized. In an hour and a half. From the backseat of my rented economy car, I swear I heard my stress snickering.
Note that, according to the SXSW badge, my name is "Brad I. Graham". When I filled out the registration, I used my middle initial "L" but apparently, their software wasn't expecting anything uppercase just there. The iGraham, coming this fall from Apple Computer.
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Sometimes, just getting out of town is a huge ordeal.