WMC might be the only time of year when you’re not surprised to see a feloow airline passenger with a DJ mixer as his carry-on luggage. I’ve not even been to my first party, yet telling tales of 2009 are already starting to form.

I’m not one to start random conversations with folks on layovers between red-eye flights from Los Angeles to Detroit to Ft. Lauderdale. But I consider myself fortunate that the gent with the mixer didn’t feel such shyness, asking the obvious question for anyone semi-young on these flights, “Going to conference?” Dude clued me in ona $20 shuttle from FLL straight to my hotel in South Beach. Sure beats the Tri-Rail to bus route I had planned. But those are the things you learn when you haul your ass down to Miami every year for over a decade, as many attendees have.

Waiting for the shuttle, I met second dude, a video guy making his first WMC trip. Here to do a doc-u-somthing piece on a new Vietamese singer who’s going to “takeover” dance music this year, he had no knowledge or expectations for WMC. He did slip me his card and ask me to call if I got into anything “fun,” so with that attitude I suspect he’ll do ok.

Finally, there was the two girls from Detroit on my shuttle who, after quitely ignoring my conversation with video-dude, revealed that they had flown down for Ultra Music Festival. Given that it’s only Wed morning and Ultra doesn’t start until Friday, I assume these girls have a notion that there’s a “conference going on, beside the festival. Or Maybe not. They griped about their less that wonderful hotelsituation, but admitted they wee there for the party. Which got me thinking—now that WMC seems to have several distinct components: the official conference, the hundreds of non-affiliated day parties and club nights, plus a massive two-day dance music festival—one man’s WMCis certainly not anothers.

I’ll be reporting on my WMC as often as possible. Follow twitter.com/urbmag for the most up-to-the-minute reports.

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