I am doomed.

According to Janice, one of my fellow jury members, the creative director is dead.
She is an expert in social media and digital innovation. She helps brands use social media like Facebook and Twitter to talk to people directly. Hence my impending doom. Janice frightens me. Mostly because she might be right, but also because she is really, really smart.
My jury at Cannes is filled with bright, classy people like Janice.
Although not all of them are predicting my demise.

My breakfast waiter might want me dead. This morning I added an extra chair to our table, thereby turning a table for two into a table for three. This caused great and grievous consternation in french breakfast waiter land. There was much tutting and hissing and irritable head-cocking and muted hand waving. You would have thought I'd urinated in the muesli.

We have finished going through the entries now. We begin discussing the shortlist and awarding Cannes Lions this weekend. Then the Festival itself begins on Sunday.
The first seminar is entitled "The death of the creative director".
Gulpity gulp. So it's not just Janice.
There are a few famous faces flying in this week. Kofi Annan is speaking. And Bob Geldof will be speaking too. I hope he doesn't sing.
Roger Daltry, legendary vocalist for the Who, will make an appearance. He can sing if he wants. Probably better that he does. I mean, what the bloody hell is he going to talk about at an advertising festival?

There is no doubt the week is going to be dominated by talk of the future. Or should that be the present? So words like Twitter, Myspace, Facebook, social media, on-demand content, cloud marketing and death, of, creative, director will be the order of the day. I will endeavour to learn as much as I possibly can so our agency can keep up with all this stuff. And also, of course, because I do not want to expire. Not just yet anyway. Sorry to disappoint you, Janice.