I'm going to pretend you don't already know this but the Calgary Code Camp is a mere two weeks away and it looks like it will surpass last year's in every way except one. Namely, I won't be presenting or attending. Which is just as well. My taste in music hasn't improved any. (MAN, Norah Jones' new CD rocks, metaphorically speaking.)
Normally, a nine-hour plane ride with a three-hour layover in TO wouldn't be enough to keep me from a Bil Simser/John Bristowe tag-team and the one titled Meet the Monkey almost sealed the deal but a $10k shopping trip to Miami to furnish our new condo (which previously contained furniture that looked like Edith Head puked and that puke designed it) put a big kibosh on that little cross-continental jaunt.
So, dear reader(s), it is up to you to be my eyes and ears. I need you to get up close and personal with the presenters. I'm talking INTIMATE. I want to be able to smell the soy-based food products on James Kovacs' breath when you report back to me. I want to know what JP's stimulant of choice is before he goes on. I want to know if Tom Opgenorth can make it through his presentation without giggling whenever he says Mono.
The one with the best use of clandestine tactics gets a free tour of Anna Nicole's house.