Alright, so the headline is less than flattering, but that’s sort of what it felt like. As I look back, I suppose that’s why my last entry on the subject was before SxSW even got rolling on Day 1.
Attending SxSW Interactive was a wonderful experience, don’t get me wrong. I learned a lot and one thing I learned is that SxSW is not for me. There are a number of reasons – and no, the fact that I am an ‘elder’ is not one of them, thank you very much. The things I learned from going to SxSW or that were reinforced include…
- I’m smart. I may not be the smartest person in the room, but I’m smart and I ‘get it’.
- I can rise to the occasion, schmooze, network, and cajole with the best of ‘em. If there’s a goal and an objective – great. If not – I’m over it and I’m going home. I don’t like it. Been there. Done that.
- My definition of ‘friend’ isn’t the same as a lot of people’s definition.
- The experience of my 50-something years, and the confidence that comes with it, is a blessing;, at least the times when confidence actually DOES come with it.
- Chris Brogan is a really good person. Even though I don’t get his music
he’s one of the few big dogs I know who I’d like to know better and to call my friend. (I didn’t change Chris’ name here because – well, I hope this doesn’t hurt his feelings of embarrass him. If so, disregard #1 above.) - I could live in Austin. At least I could live in Austin in March. Ask me again in August.
and so why the “meat market” ? - From morning until night there was the constant undercurrent – a chess play for being at the “right place” at the “right time” with the “right people” - the best, the in, the “it” place / party. I don’t care about hanging with the big dogs or gossiping about the big dogs or hanging with those who do. I don’t need to go to the wicked, coolest happeningest, parties – in fact I don’t need to go to any party at all. (Good thing – I bagged them all.) I’m wicked cool and happening no matter where I am. (Well, at the dentist’s office that statement may be a stretch, but work with me on this.)
If I were 25 years younger would I feel differently? Probably not.
But, I wouldn’t admit it.