Ready or not, South by Southwest, here we (and our Killer Death Flu) come


Could I have gotten the Killer Death Flu at a worse time? I’m flying down to Austin today for five days of music, beer, and hob-nobbing -- assuming the hob-nobbing includes copious beer and music -- at the annual South by Southwest festival, from where I'll be blogging here over the next few days. I’m hoping the airplane ride from Cleveland to Texas will clear my stuffed head a little, so by the time I get down there, I’m ready to party like a former Mickey Mouse Club pop star. Or at least listen to nonstop music like it was my job, which it is, which is probably why God stuck me with the I'll-Be-Dead-Soon Flu. A dude can't have everything. To commemorate the start of festivities, I give you five worse things than having the Please Lord Just Kill Me Now Flu at SXSW: ... 5. Sitting next to a Kinko’s employee on the flight down who just happens to play in the Best Damn Indie-Rock Band You’ve Never Heard Of. 4. Sitting next to a Meshuggah fan on the flight who spends the next four hours trying to get my “professional opinion” on why metal is so unrepresented at the festival. 3. Finding out that my laptop’s wi-fi card doesn’t work at the hotel I’m staying, and I have to spend the next three days posting blogs from the Starbucks down the street – just like those guys who post blogs for a living. 2. Getting to Austin and spending four days inadvertently catching each and every one of Ryan Cabrera’s performances. (All I wanted was a beer and a burrito!) 1. Going to Friday’s She & Him showcase and finding out that Zooey Deschanel really doesn’t have a crush on me. -- Michael Gallucci


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