Written on Friday 11th August at 15:49EST
I was devastated.
With my iPod out of action, there would be no block rockin' beats during my long-awaited trip to Toronto to cover the International AIDS Conference.
The conference, from what I've heard, is a bang-up joint. It's "off-da-scale” and "spanktastic," according to various folks I spoke with. Hundreds of speakers, thousands of participants, dance troupes, hip hop performances and soccer trainings…even a global village. I began to wonder whether they were just pulling my leg, or at the very least, talking about a mini-Olympic games of some sort.
I mean: this is AIDS, right?
Because we're talking about something heavy right here. I'm seeing visuals of babies crying, their mommas dying, and grandmas sighing.
I'm thinking that the biggest AIDS conference in the world means I'm in for some sombre-faced suits who work for places with a bunch of capital letters in their name – WHOUNTIEDMYSHOES – or summat' crazy like that saying: "We have failed. We must do better…"
But no, it ain't like that, ya hear?
Cos check this: the AIDS conference isn't some mourning ceremony. This is a celebration – a celebration of our triumph as a unified human race over the biggest challenge of our entire history. Which to me, seems alright, ya hear?
So how is Mark feeling going into this joint?
I'm psyched, baby!
