TIFF my day one…

Sunday at 3:44 in the morning after a 3-hour nap I started in Los Angeles and ended up in my hotelroom in Downtown Toronto at 7:00 at night. It was a long day with not much to show for it but a couple episodes of This American Life that I listened to on the plane and a very large vanilla ice cream cone eaten out of irritation for my delayed connecting flight at Chicago O’Hare.

It must have been a little film festival magic or maybe the excitement of my first trip to the Toronto International Film Festival that pulled me out of my travel funk. I cleaned myself up, walked out of my hotel and down Yonge (one of the cities main drags) for a little taste of the city before I hopped in a cab bound for the Seville Party armed with only an address. The cabdriver was pleasant and even a little concerned for me to get out of the car where there appeared to be no party. But, I braved it and followed my ears through a courtyard between two buildings. As I walked the 200 feet towards the two men minding “the list” I considered my options. I could call my friends inside the party and see if they had an invite for me or I could talk my way in. For no good reason I can think of now, I chose the latter. Walked right up to the guys and said, “I’m not on the list.” Before I continue I just must note, inexperienced festivalgoers should not use this tactic as a good way to get in to a party. However, it did work. I proceeded, “my friends are inside and they are very important.” Then I pulled out my business card, the guy looked at both sides and said, “Okay.” I was in. Oh, and remember that ice cream cone from Chi-town. That’s all I ate that day. So I headed right for the door where the food comes out of the kitchen and I stood there and ate mini-burgers, crab cakes and steak skewers drank water and came back to life. It wasn’t hard to find my friends inside; they too had found the food. We went out to the courtyard to regroup and decided to go for a little more food. Piled into two cabs for Richtree Market.

Why don’t we have this in LA! It would be huge! There are seven locations in Canada. When you go in they give you a sort of credit purchase card. Then you visit the different food stations, everything from smoothies and omelets, to seafood, pasta, coffee, beautiful desserts, crepes, everything, and wherever you get something they swipe your card. You go eat, go back for more if you want, then you pay by swiping your card for the balance. The food is fresh and the hardest thing to do is decide what to eat. The great thing is there really is something for everyone. But, after all those hors d’oeuvres it was all I could muster to eat a salad.

After my greens I still had it in me to get to the party for AJ Schnack’s Kurt Cobain: About a Son at the Drake Hotel. Cool location, cooler party. Can’t say much for the snacks, as I couldn’t eat a bite more. But that was the least of my concerns. The music was pulsing through the place and being spun by Ben Gibbard of Death Cab for Cutie and it seemed like every doc person was in that room. I got caught up with folks I hadn’t seen in a while, made some new friends and, my favorite, got to meet people that I’ve been talking to on the phone and email. It’s always a thrill to put that face to a name. Before I knew it, it was 2:00 in the morning, I was still standing (in my new Kenneth Cole loafers) and I had to get to sleep. Back into a taxi for a ride home and before I knew it the alarm was waking me up at 7:00 for the documentary breakfast at Doc Corner.

Pics and day 2 soon!

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