Gore and I arrived safely in Austin at noon local time, and SXSW insanity is already upon us. SXSW filmmaker and FT contributor Sally Foster met up with us at the airport, and we all shared a taxi, whereupon Gore’s legs were almost severed from him while sitting in the back seat.
See, I got in the front seat, and it was pushed up pretty far. Before I had an opportunity to casually adjust it, however, the taxi driver reached down between my legs (no guff) and did it for me, slamming the seat back into Gore’s legs, which brought forth a mighty sound of pain from our fearless founder. He survived however, as did the taxi driver.
I’ve since rocked the registration, gotten my badge for the fun and I’m waiting for the clock to hit 4pm so we can all meet up at Iron Works for some food. The G4 gang is in town for some Gore-itage, and I look forward to smearing BBQ sauce all over Zach Selwyn when he’s on camera. And then, tonight, I’ll smear BBQ on him again… back at the hotel room…
Pete is enroute, and should meet up with us around 4:30pm. Don, however, is MIA. Seems he missed his flight due to some serious airline reservation confusion that I’d rather he explained, as I don’t want to embarrass him too much.
As for other film sightings, the eFilmCritic gang is here, some new faces among them, and I’ve heard that Rocci from Cinematical is floating around. No word on anyone from the Rotten Tomatoes crew though.
Oh, and festival director Matt Dentler… he’s everywhere. Just like every year, he was behind the counter when I got my badge, talking to filmmakers when I left the counter and leaving the press office when I walked into it… leading me to believe he’s got one of those Harry Potter time do-hickies. Toast to the Dentler!