Live from Sundance, Day 1

Dateline: Park City, covered in the white of Christmas snow and the black of L.A. cool

Oh, yeah; it's pretty awesome. The fireplace is cranking, the condo is full of bacon, and the coffee is putting a halfway decent dent in my altitude sickness. By "altitude sickness", of course I mean that I forgot that drinking this far above sea level requires a shade more moderation than "Yeah, give me two more beers -- no, make it four because it's crowded." I recommend the Bobsled Brown at the Wasatch Brewery, but not the fifth and sixth Budweiser at -- whatever that last place was.

It was a close race for Most Interesting Thing Overheard and Eavesdropped. A woman with a very clear sense of both irony and health care management stated, "I just don't want a cardiologist that weighs 300 lbs." Edging that out slightly, solely on the basis of the speaker's snowboard-style pigtails, was, "Right after Episode I came out, I tried to get JarJarSex.com; but that site was already taken!"

Actually, no, there was one more. We stopped in at a random bar just off Main Street -- unwilling to pay the twenty bucks each to get into the one on Main Street (at that point). It was crowded, but my attention was suddenly drawn to the dude that was banging his bar stool on the floor like a jackhammer while yelling, "James Bond, man, JAMES BOND! I have a freakin' BONER that's so awesome!" Pierce Brosnan was working his way through the crowd a couple of tables over. There was no evidence of a martini in any particular condition, but I did admire his cool as people swarmed him. They were all trying to get that Arms-Length Reverse-Camera shot to capture themselves in a picture with him.

And while we're on "Who'd Ya See?" -- Paris Hilton. A black Escalade went by with a pack of teenage boys running alongside like cartoon dogs chasing a firetruck. The back window rolled down and I saw her inside, presumably exposing herself to throw some pocket change out to the poor street urchins. Gotta say: very lovely skin. She looks much better in natural light instead of nightvision-green.

Later, I glanced up at the Wasatch Brew Pub and saw a couple of members of the Broken Lizard team. It was the two main characters from Beerfest. I like most of their work, but didn't know what to say because I don't know their names and didn't want to say, "Hey, you're those guys from that movie! I like most of your work!" Or, "Where's Jay Chandrasekhar, the one member of your troupe whose name I know, but whose work on the "Dukes of Hazzard" movie was abysmal?" Or, "Come get beer sit here famous dudes!" I sat dumbly instead. It seemed the best of all my options.

There's something very disconcerting about seeing someone in three dimensions for the first time. I swear, my first reaction is based on confusion. Here are people I've only seen on a screen, flat and a foot tall. And here they are, six times bigger and coming right at me with a strangely familiar look that is completely out of familiar context. Sitting dumbly is about as much as I can muster.

I'm also pretty sure I saw either the 3-6 Mafia or maybe three members of some NFL offensive line. Basically, I saw three big black guys that appeared to be very popular with the people that were taking their picture. I was demographically unprepared for additional analysis.

We committed the body to the party as we went past a bar where the barker advised us that the Gin Blossoms were playing. Next thing I know, I'm $40 lighter and in a basement bar straight out of my fraternity house memories. Lynn heads to the stage -- actually, a corner of the basement about the size of my office cube, with no risers because the ceiling is so low -- and I head to the bar to double order beer. Turns out, the Gin Blossoms have left; but their drummer is playing with this cat named Matthew Moon that turns out to be pretty good. We stood right in front of them, a couple of feet from the microphone, ass-to-ass with all the partying starlets and studio hacks. There's nothing like a basement party rock show in front of the band. One huge guy lunged across us to grab the mike, turned it around to himself; and I fully expected him to be beaten back with axe swing of the bass guitar. Instead, he pulled out a harmonica and played along with the band. Tremendous! We rocked until they closed with crowd favorite "Drink a little, Smoke a little". I got a business card from my new best friend Maltzy, whose enthusiasm for this band was matched only his taste in women; then I noticed it was 3am,and turned into a pumpkin.

So, somewhere our Sundance credentials and tickets are waiting for us. I really need to get those, but there's an interview show on the local festival TV channel with the founders of Hulu, YouTube, and Netflix, and somebody just said that Google is SkyNet and it will become self-aware in 2012.

I couldn't be happier.