Course, as I was telling that sweet Latvian friend, I know that deep down we need those “end” moments. All those moments of doubt… all those days that don’t seem to add up, connect or go anywhere… suddenly come together on June 2, 2003 when I see the book before me and realize, somewhat incredulously, that all those seemingly wasteful, disconnected moments of doubt, failure, success, hard work… did add up to something (materially). But that moment passed quickly because I’d already finished a second manuscript by that time. You move on. Still… the book remains as a beacon, tomb, or a series of shouts from ghosts of a sometimes forgotten past.

So hey… my friend… by all means… take this Year in Review moment to reflect and look back at your life… but don’t expect to clear the field and start anew just like that. That’s fool fodder. Who you are now was constructed — no shit — over a life time of seemingly irrelevant moments, so why on earth would you expect to be able to just up and radically alter yourself in a single year, let alone a single day.

And now… a special bonus… cause I know you want it:

The Animation Pimp’s 2003 Year in Review (as told to the author by jolts of memory flashes)

January
Hmm… it was pretty damn cold… went back to boxing classes… Kelly signed us up for snacks at Jarvis’ school during the first two weeks of January. That SUCKS. Snow fell. We have a long driveway. I enjoy using the plow… but why can’t those ity plow fucks distribute the snow somewhere BEYOND our damn laneway entrance. Man it’s cold. Didn’t stop us from Friday night hockey. We were playing sometimes in -30 (Celsius) weather. Was bad for 10-15 minutes… but then the body warms up. Making final edits to Estonian book. Trying to work on this “hockey” book. Having a hard time. Hmm… my urine is too yellowy. I gotta take more fluids. Wanna kill that publisher of Chunklet. Wrote a piece on Sterling Hayden for them eight months ago. Good piece. They ain’t using it in this new issue. Says there’s no room.

February
Went to New York to hang with Signe, Gerben and Anet. Plympton had a nice party for us. Slept in Bill’s studio. Had to climb a ladder to go to bed every night. Heavy snowstorm. Wore my new camper shoes. They’re the best shoes in the world. Not feeling great. Really cold in New York. Spent $300 on dinner at Da Silvanos. What a weird experience that was… we were out of element… beside mobsters and fashion fag-hags. Guy who wrote Lauren book beside us. Food sucked too. Got back, drove to Dartmouth College. Ehrlich didn’t tell me I was reviewing student work. Fuck me. I hate doing that. It’s not fair.

Was also on a panel about creativity. That was fun. Was invited as a writer… not as this festival schmuck. The girl who moderated the panel was later in a serious accident. She was in a coma. Not sure if she made it. Reminds me… met Linda Pakre at Estonia house. She’s keen on doing this Estonian animation festival next November in New York. Bundle o’ energy on that gal. Nice drive back from Vermont. Relaxed. Cold. When I got back my retro Bruins circa-72 jersey was waiting. Wore it to hockey that week. Jarvis is sick. Spending the week with him. We’re watching the Star Wars films. Want him to see that good and evil aren’t so easy to define… but realize the series is also about a father trying to kill his son. Oops. Now I’m sick. Trying to keep writing the hockey book but feeling real groggy.

SAFO… fuck why are we doing it? No one cares except the students. Still… got Oscar Grillo on the jury. Hear he’s pretty funny. Two years of sobriety. Wee-haa, who wants a drink!? Still fucking hard to manage all this time. Finally get my copy of that nifty Spanish festival publication, Animac. They do a great job with the design and layout. I wrote something about — yeah yeah — sex and animation for them. Was nice to see alongside these serious academic orientated pieces. Ha.

March
Why is there a big lump on my neck? Shit. A virus. Mono or something. Stuck in the house for about 10 days. Most sick I ever been. Good excuse to watch Murder She Wrote every day and not write. National Arts Centre just sent us a letter saying they’re getting rid of their projection equip. Fuck me. We’ve been there since 1976. Why are they just sending us a fucking letter? Asswipes. Takes us two to three weeks to solve the problem for 2004… but solve it we do. What’s with the Estonians? What ain’t they getting back to me about the status of this book. Man they’re slow. Is there a pagan clock? Talking to a lot of old hockey players. Man oh man is that something. Tom Johnson, Red Storey, called the Gump but he had a heart attack. Just found out that the first guy I interviewed for the book, Chuck Rayner, kicked it. Damn. Meantime… trying to put spring ASIFA issue together. Pain in the ass trying to find GOOD writers and better ideas.