This month the Animation Pimp, Chris Robinson, discusses how traveling is really just waitin'.
Monthly provocative, drunken, idiotic ramblings from the North...
Animation Festival Travel Tips #1: Waiting
S'not really travellin' since it's mostly waiting. Waitin' for ticket. Ticket. Waitin' for departure day. Waitin' to get to airport. Waitin' in line to check in. Waitin' to do security. Waitin' for boarding. Waitin' for aisle number (strangely, despite having reserved/designated seats, folks be racin' to the plane. What for?) Boarded. Waitin' for those slow fuggers to get their asses out of the aisle so ya can sit down. Seated. Waitin' for takeoff. 1. Backout. 2. Taxi (usually gotta wait for a few planes). 3. Finally in the air. Now...waitin' for cruising level. Cruising. Waitin' for drinks. And you're waitin' to die most of da time. Food dislodges thoughts of death. Waitin' for pick up so you can lift your tray. (Wishing that shitheel in front would move their seat up so your foiled dogmeat isn't jammed in your nose.) Checkin' the screen ta see how far. Movie starts. Death thoughts subside again. Crappy movie but you're lovin' it 'cause the 2 bottles o' red has hit ya twice da speed. Bad comedies make you roar. Bad dramas make you weep like a Hilton shower. Meanwhile from begin ta end you're always waitin' to doze. Never comes. Movie ends. Windows open. Over the sea. Not much more waitin'. But still you're waitin' for initial landing. Waitin' for collection of earcovers. Blankets. Pillows. Crap. Waitin' for final approach/landing. Bing. Waitin' to touch down.
Screeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeecccccccccccccccccccccchhhhhhhhh....THUUUUUUUUUUMMMMMMMpppppppppp.
Landed. Waitin' for gate arrival. Yeah, yeah...we know wait 'til the captain switches off the seatbelt sign. (Always a few silly fuggers scrambling in the aisle like theys never done dis 'fore.) Bing. Here. Madness. Chaos. Like movin' round in a closet. Waitin' for open doors. Open. Waitin' for movement. Movin' but waitin' for usually 4-6 folks who stop dead on to grab a HUGE bag (shouldn't even be there) from above. Off. Walkin'. Walkin'. Walkin'. Liberation? Nope. Customs. Waitin'. Waitin'. Waitin'. Waitin'. Waitin'. Waitin'. Waitin'. Waitin'. Waitin'. Waitin'. Waitin'. Waitin'. Waitin'. Waitin' Officer. Likes he/she waitin' to make you wait. FACADE of POWER ends. Waitin'. (Lesson #1: Be damn sure to bring only carry on...you can do it and don't risk losin' luggage...lost mine least 4-5 times.) So there ya are. Waitin' for the trolley da roll. Rollin'. Anticipate direction and locate the bag entrance. Once done, move there. Waitin' for ya bag. Got it. Exit. Freedom. Nope. S'another uniformed jerk. They wave ya by. Ah, the doors. Hopes. Dreams. Anticipation of the (k)new. Now scenario varies significantly.
Scenarios:
1. Friend arrives giddily, tearily waving, huggin' and takes you to their small Euro car. 2. Sign carrying stranger arrives. Feigns excitement. Follow them through a parking lot. 'Nother one hour drive, half tanked making talk with a stranger. 3. No one. On your own. Taxi. Train. Bus. (Steal a car?) 4. 'Nother connection.
Now given that cartoony parties are held in remote off da wall areas (Annecy, Ottawa, Hiroshima, Baden, Brisbane, Utrecht), you can basically assume that....spite arrivin'/landin' you got at least 'nother one hour or so 'fore getting to your hotel. Ok...so you're in a moving vehicle. Waitin' resumes. Waitin' to get to town. Waitin' to get to the hotel. Hotel. Farewell to stranger. You're cloudy now...really screwed up...like ya been last one home from the party. Waitin' for reception. Least 'nother five minutes (assuming you're booked)...gotta fill the form...gotta pull your credit card...gotta get the key...all dis shit. Ok. Done. Waitin' for 'vator. Waitin' for floor. Waitin'/lookin' for room. Hopefully the damn key works. You're there. Problem is you DEAD to da world and it's only 11 am. You wanna sleep...but you're anxiously awaitin' seein' ya mates. Fug dem. Sleep a little (not too much...aim to stay up 'til your normal beddie time so you're on track demain). Course now y'r waitin' ta sleep. Not so easy with da light. Try a hot shower or even a little pull on da pud (as good as sex at this point). Ah to sleep...perchance to...you know.
S'bout 4ish. You feel like poop. Get up. Have 'nother shower or just wet your mug. Get dressed and you're ready ta go. Let the FUN begin.
Upcoming Tips:
- Airports to avoid getting stuck in
- The Wonderful World of Booze
- Cool places to puke
- A list of swear words, insults and other negative comments for your competition
- Screenings in Annecy
Hottie Animator 'o da Month
Is it wrong to be attracted to someone who made a film 'bout incest?
The Animation Pimp is brought to you by AAA Ladies From Shanghai, servicing the sexual needs of the animation community since August 1999.
Chris Robinson is a writer, festival director, programmer, junky and doesn't give a shit about you. His hobbies include horseback riding, pudpulling, canoeing and goat thumping.
A well-known figure in the world of independent animation, writer, author & curator Chris Robinson is the Artistic Director of the Ottawa International Animation Festival.
