I drove away from Inman News' Real Estate Connect SF 2006 show before noon on Friday. During the event I spoke too much, drank too much, ate too little and hardly sat. It was a helluva party. Thirty miles outside San Francisco my phone rang. The caller, a full-time broker and career cynic is someone with whom I've spent the past six years debating the future of real estate. I expected this call. It's our traditional argument on the merits of Connect – an event he's never attended. Breaking custom, I let the call go to voicemail. An argument seemed moot. His point of view was irrelevant now. His words are bubble gum music and I'd just seen Hendrix. I turned my cell off, opened the window and let the wind cry Mary. Don't Eat the Brown Acid Saturday morning. I required ...
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