Cobb

Eric managed to pull his power book out of his cool looking knapsack but I didn't manage to peep what he was browsing. I forgot to ask if he was at ISI, but it's not as if I'm going to talk about that much. He's into KM and social software so I'm sure we could blab on at length. His blog is fairly interesting and I'll probably link it.

As the sign-in sheet (you know, that meatspace registration database) came around, I realized that I didn't know any of these people and never read any of their blogs. That's a sobering thought. So I had another beer.

One of the fellows there did recognize me by my blog. I had passed some cards around. He liked the banner. I could take that as a backhanded compliment about the actual writing, but I wasn't in the mood to be persnickety. I was actually enjoying my reprive from the drudgeries of the rest of life - but don't get me started about the rest of life.

Rumors were going around the table about Karaoke. I didn't realize that the Karaoke was in the market - that's why the guy at the raw bar mistook me for one of the band members who were taking five someplace, I imagined. I told Susie about my act, but I really had no intention of reprising it. I was here to get into a juicy conversation about something or other.

Chris, the Lonewacko, plopped down next to me next. I espied his REI bag and day hike shoes and fancied him a serious walker. Hey, finally somebody whose blog I recognized. Maybe we're not supposed to talk about our blogs, so I asked him about hiking. He thought I was talking about his blog. But he did lay the bomb comment of the evening in regards to the event that started him blogging. I won't reveal it, he probably does it more justice somewhere on tolstoy.com. He also had the coolest assymetrical odd-size business card of the lot.

Al, the UK expatriot, must have recognized that I'm an alien. I have the vague feeling that his head was someplace else. Who knows. All I can say is that Al is not bubbly. And not bubbly without being snarkily cynical or insulting must be some species of alienation I have yet to understand. Nevertheless we prattled on about nothing for some period of time until he suggested that the gentrification of Downtown LA is inevitable and that Westside real-estate prices would drop. Look. There may be some nice digs in Silverlake but that's never going to happen. Conversation stops. I hate when that happens. I'm beginning to be unable to muster passion myself.

Scott was good at shouting across the table intelligibly. This skill tells me, along with his profile, that he's a party man approaching my own level of sophistication. Either that or I've had quite enough beers, and now everybody is cool. Scott did have a very cool business card as well as a very cool camera.

Spencer (5000) has nine stars on his right arm, although at first he wasn't sure. I like that kind of modesty. Alongside him was a babelicious beauty in a preppy plaid skirt. I shouldn't say more because, well I just shouldn't. You see, women whose names I don't know only register in the more reptilian parts of the brain.. you get the picture.

Right about this time reality started sinking in. Sometime much earlier, I recieved the phone call that reminded me about the other part of life. I decided to make a mysterious exit as my buzz had been effectively killed. On the whole, I am glad to have come, and I think it was an hour or so very well spent. As a social experience meats are a unique test of patience, especially one so non-specific as this one. With no opportunity to pre-hash positions (as with the one I'm going to tonight) one is left to the vagaries of making something up as you go along with complete strangers who may or may not be interested in doing the same. Just above complete anonymity, with the possibility of exhaustive detail (such as this transcription), it's a disorienting kind of expectation.

I never did talk to the guy who liked my banner, and I hope he forgives me, but I had to get a cigar.