So this was the annual week where Mac nerds return to our virtual Capistrano -- Moscone West in San Francisco, for the annual World Wide Developers Conference. That's the official name, though the pedant in me wants to say "Developers'" -- shouldn't it be possessive? I've been wrong about these things before.
The week was dedicated to the official unveiling of Leopard, the next version of the operating system; unofficially, everyone and their brother wanted to talk about the iPhone. Rumors were swirling (why do rumors always "swirl?") about a SDK for making iPhone apps, or all of us getting a free iPhone under our seats, or even the presence of real, live women we'd like to see naked among the ponytailed and sandaled attendees.
Technologically, WWDC didn't disappoint, though I am under orders not to talk about anything I learned outside of the aforementioned hot developers.
A client and I spent two evenings down by Municipal Pier, taking pictures of all sorts of stuff. I focused on seagulls, because they're right there and we don't have any in Minneapolis. I got some nice shots, I think, and didn't get pooped on once.
WWDC usually has a "bash" on Thursday nights; in the past, we'd all be shepherded onto buses and taken to Cupertino, to wait in line at the campus store for two hours and freeze our asses off once the sun when down over the mountains. This year, they let us go to Yerba Buena gardens; the tradeoff was better food but shitty beer selections, compared to last year anyway. But beer is not the point of the bash, or at least it isn't anymore. Some of the graybeards still call it the "beer bash" and give past events an almost mythic quality, but I'm sure it was the socially awkward nerds interacting with socially awkward engineers made cool by the Apple imprimatur.
Ozomatli was the band, and they kicked ass for a solid hour. Lots of great music -- a good party band.
On the whole, it was a fun, fun time. But I'm dragging ass and I'm about as saturated with Apple propaganda as I've ever been.
1 comment:
I just want to note that you spending time in SF taking photos of seagulls is the equivalent of me (or some other coastal dweller) spending time in Chicago photographing rats.
Icky, but at least it wasn't geese.
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