foreshadow the flight's destination.
Inbound to Austin on the eve of SXSW we've
got a Gibson in the overhead compartment,
Mac users are in the majority, and lanky guys
with messy hair and funky glasses outnumber
the suits. The conversational timbre passing
between the seats is smooth and melifluous,
not the booming hyper-energetic staccato
you hear when salesguys are the alpha dogs
on board.
I'm in the company of musicians.
This is shaping up to be a nice weekend already.
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