Thanks to a last minute thought on Friday as we passed the Moscone Center, I rang my friend Mat­thew [2], who just hap­pens to be the editor of Aus­tralian Mac­world, and muttered some­thing about cov­ering the World Wide Developers Con­fer­ence for him. So, this morning, Doug and I got up at Oh God O’Clock, headed over to The Little Coffee Shop that Could, which thank­fully opens at that hour, and then hit the freeway to get to SF by 8.30am. We man­aged to skleethe our way through accred­it­a­tion (yes, this is an offi­cial term from my teen­hood days of watching St Trinians’ movies [1]) and get in to watch the Steve Jobs key­note.

We then sat on the floor of the Moscone Center and I frantic­ally wrote my notes into some semb­lance of an art­icle while Doug frantic­ally went through his 100+ images to work out which ones were worth sending and then we e-mailed it all to Mat­thew aiming to meet his 10am Tuesday Aus­tralian time dead­line.

We then headed off to a silly after­noon talking to some folks about a vaca­tion time share (we said no, but we got the free hol­iday to Hawaii for two people for two days anyway. Not bad for sit­ting through 2 hours of pap.). I then rang Mat­thew to dis­cover half the images and the text had not arrived, so we went careening back to the Moscone Center through peak hour traffic and a stupid acci­dent to get the files sent for real.

Crazy, crazy day, but fun. I felt really chuffed to be actu­ally in the same room as Jobs for a key­note after all these years of watching it on Quick­Time streams.

[1] To be honest, the movie I watched reli­giously (no pun intended) was The Trouble with Angels and the catch­phrase there was “I have the most scath­ingly bril­liant idea.” “Sklathe,” now that I really think about it, is from the Eloise books.

[2] Edited from the ori­ginal because I appar­ently still have stalkers. I’m amazed that these people have nothing better to do than read my journal, follow links to my friends and harass them anonym­ously. Thank you for the reminder, though, to keep very quiet about my actual where­abouts so you can’t do any­thing to my family.