Hello Mudda, Hello Fadda,

… here I am at Camp Granada– I mean at WordCamp. I mean was at. As in: yesterday.

And as in:  I’m still kinda reeling from everything I saw and heard. Maybe it was all old hat to the seasoned vets, the folks who spend their whole lives plugged into this stuff. For me, unalloyed techno-idiot, it was –I’m trying not to fall prey to cliche here– mind enhancing. And damned enjoyable, even all the parts I flat didn’t or barely understood.

For twenty bucks plus parking, good deal all around. Free T-shirt: 100% cotton. Free book: Blog Blazers, 40 Top Bloggers Share Their Secrets.

Secrets.

“High Profile, High Traffic, High Profit.”  Slow Stagger readers, consider yourselves warned.  Stand clear.

Even now, however, Mrs. Stagger remains a little hazy on the concept.

Her: So, how was camp? Roast any marshmellows?
Me: Wasn’t that kind of camp; you know it. It was WordCamp.
Her: Learn any new words?
Me: Yeah, as a matter of fact, Miss Smarty Pants.
Her: Like what?
Me: Like ‘Killer App.’ How’s that?
Her: Killer app, what does that mean?
Me: You wouldn’t understand.
Her: Try me.
Me: It’s kinda hard to explain.
Her: Yeah, I just bet.
Me: It is.
Her: Uh huh.
Me: What are we doin’ for dinner anyway?

I talk a little more about WordCamp Denver here.

Couple of last things. One, even as a relative outsider, it was  pleasure to be amongst such intelligent and passionate people.  And two, why can’t Matt Mullenweg and all these other great minds get together and figure out a way that Wordpress can take over TicketMaster? Or start WordTicket. Or somethin’.

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