This Ain't No Stinkin' Festival

I spent Saturday lost in the canyons, trying to deliver a package to Pierce Brosnan. Well, really the package wasn't the point, and I wasn't really even trying to deliver it, I just happened to be in the same car as the deliverer. All I really wanted was to see his new film, "The Matador," which is playing at the Sundance film festival. Is that so much to ask? Yes, it is. I discovered that the canyons in the mountainous regions of Utah are dark, twisted places that don't even give a damn about getting you to your movie on time. Would that God could smite those canyons.

It happened like this: A friend from high school had come up to work at the festival and I went to Park City to meet her so we could hang out. She works for the company that produced the movie and she was coordinating the after party, which took place the night before. We spent a pleasant early evening taking in the festival hubbub. At dinner we sat next to some uber-friendly Australians who really like to ski. I mean REALLY. They told me that they ski in Utah from November until April, then go back to Australia (where it is winter again) and ski from June until October. They said they haven't seen the summer in many years. Australians are insane, I tells ya.

The evening plan was to go see my friend's film, "The Matador," and while we were at it, drop off some gift packages to Pierce Brosnan and Greg Kinnear, who were having dinner nearby. Simple enough, I suppose. But, inevitably, we became horribly horribly horribly lost. Ended up in some "po-dunk" town and had to seek directions from a convenience store attendant with ever-widening eyes. It seemed like everything we said surprised her.

"We are lost, do you have a map?," we said. Her eyes widened, she pulled out a map.
"Is this were we are?" we said, pointing. "Yes," she said, her eyes widening further.

It went on like that, us asking questions, her eyes continually popping out of her head. Perhaps, living in nowhere-ville has filled her with some kind of bizarre dread for outside contact. She must spend her free time cowering from sunlight and hiding under rocks. Nothing else makes sense.

The mysterious vortex-like, cell phone-blocking canyons finally spit us out at our destination, an hour late. We missed the movie, but delivered the packages. Of course, I didn't even go in, since I don't know these people. We thought it would be awkward.

So no "Matador" for me. Apparently it is sold out for the rest of the festival, which means my only other chance would be standby tickets. But although I understand that there are people in this world who enjoy standing in long lines, this has never been something I'm into.

I'm not bitter. Seeing my friend was fun enough, plus she left me some pickings from the gift bags. Take that, Pierce, I have your Xbox Live headset! Now all I need is an Xbox.