work 'n play en francais

Wednesday night 4:15 am. What's the rule here? It's technically Thursday morning not Wednesday night. But, if you haven't gone to sleep yet I believe it still qualifies as Wednesday. In whatever way you consider it, this does not change the fact that I need to be up in 5 hours to get to The Majestic Hotel by 945 am. I want to see the panel with my new Egyptian friends and Fisher. It's topical. It's interesting. It's something of value. Hell, I'm in France, I should get at least a smidgen of culture.

I'm not a delegate so the only way to gain admission is to accompany the panelists. The dilemma is how to ensure I wake up in time.

I seek my answer from the best possible source. My iPhone. I go into clock app and sure enough it has alarm. Of course it does. It's simple to create and absolutely a life necessity. Thanks, Steve Jobs. If the iPhone was only edible and could sustain you for thirty days in case you found yourself without food and water, it would be perfection. Oh yeah, except for dropped calls in random places at the most inopportune moments. 

I set the alarm placing my faith in Apple to ensure I'm awoken. Like my cell service at the traffic light on the corner of Palms and Castle Heights, it went off as planned. 

I managed to make it to The Majestic on time. I met Fisher and the two other panelist, Amr Salama the Egyptian Filmmaker/Activist who I mentioned yesterday and Jehave Noujaim, the director of the "Control Room" who is working on a film of the Egyptian revolution.

The panel was sponsored by J. Walter Thompson. It was nice surprise when Erin Johnson, an old friend and Head of PR JWT, was part of the group. We walked over to the Palais. I had no problem gaining entrance even without a badge. It was cool to see there was actually a festival of events. Who knew?

The Panel started promptly at 1030. It was scheduled for 45 minutes. I looked around the auditorium. It was well attended but as you can imagine a mid morning audience at Cannes is a rough room to play. The Moderator began by asking each of the three panelists to tell their stories. This was the best part. Each of these inspiring individuals told of the risks they took to seek the truth and share it with the world. Eventually the conversation led to the role social media played in achieving their ambitions. 15 minutes into the conversation, there was a pause. The question was asked, "What role do brands play in all of this?" We are in advertising and this is an ad conference so this wasn't entirely unexpected. Regardless, my cynicism began to bubble inside of me. I won't go into details since my thoughts on this are an entire post unto itself. 

The panel ended. I said my good byes and I was off to the Carlton for a scheduled meeting with Lisa and a potential new director. I arrived at 11:45 to scope out a table. They both arrived at 12:25. I never understood why Cannes is the sister city of Beverly Hills. Now I do. See my post from June 1 for reasons. 

I had one more promised meeting with a production service company from Argentina and then Lisa and I went to find our crew. The Baconers, our partners from Copenhagen, were hosting a lunch at a restaurant down on the beach. We weren't sure exactly which place it was and then we stumbled upon this. Victory.

We chatted for a short stint. They invited us to have dinner at their villa and off we went. We made a quick stop over to the beach at the Martinez where Tara, Dexter, John and my main man Brent were hanging with a few other friends. I had no desire to sit in the sun so I headed back to the Epoch villa. Thankfully as soon as I exited the beach, I found Cannes rarest and most desired commodity, a taxi. 

Back at the villa, no one was home including the key. I was tired and sweaty. I texted Dexter. Called Rob. Looking for anyone who knew where the key was so I could get into the house. Tired of waiting I stripped down and dove in the pool. It was the best I felt in days.

Everyone slowly came home to get ready for the evening activities. Lisa, Rob and I headed to the Bacon villa for dinner. Johnnie Frankel once again was generous enough to loan us his car for the ride there. A normally 15 minute ride took us 45 thanks to a very confused driver with bad GPS. The villa is at the top of Cannes along windy hair pin turns so I'll give him a pass. Stomachs somewhat in tact and only slightly nauseous, we arrived. The villa was like a scene out of Caligula with a better view. 

We were wined and dined by the Baconers while talking a little shop. Lovely. By 1130, our Epoch contingent left the villa and headed back to the Carlton deck. By now, I've reached my schmooze limit. I was also beginning to feel a little sluggish. I figured I'd make one round. I saw mostly old friends. Jessica Millington. Sharon Lew. Meredith Bergman. Loni Peristere. I found Lisa sitting by herself texting. I told her I was done. She looked at me with eyes that said, "Please don't leave me here alone". 

We left the Carlton went to the Gutterbar, ate a croque monsieur, grabbed and cab and headed home. I know Lisa wanted to have another sandwich but I didn't want to lose the window where cabs are still plentiful. It was 2am and I happily called it a night.

I only had a few glasses of rose. My stomach was full. I felt great. I read for an hour and looked forward to my first restful night of sleep since Sunday. Two hours later I woke up with the chills. Full blow fever.

Their are countless people who party like rock stars doing drugs, drinking to obscene excess and I'm the one who gets sick. The Howard Hughes in me says I should stop shaking hands. Looking forward to Friday since it's one day closer to going back to LA.