1/14/2008
Standby for rehearsal

Of course, my camera pales in comparison to Zet's.

They say surrounding yourself with younger people makes you feel young as well. Of course, that effect varies with the circumstances - either you feel young and positive about it, or you feel young and achingly childish.

Since my class starts at twenty past four, and the weather has been fickle - it was raining this morning, but I left with brighter sunshine - I found myself at the television studio. And, yes, there was a class going on at that time - television production, what else? The newer batch was getting their first taste of the television cameras, the teleprompter, and the video switcher. I was just walking around, trying to get cooler, after walking from the bus to the building, which is a fairly long distance. In other words, I was killing time.

The last time I was at the studio, for anything, was last term, while Mang Ric was preparing to move every bit of equipment to the Yuchengco building for the Nobel laureate webcast. Of course, that deserves the best equipment - or at least the best the university has - and the best people, which meant Sir Doy was the one saying "cue to one" instead of some student who'd buckle under pressure.

I have also met some of those who found themselves on the verge of buckling under pressure. Well, not really - it was a tutorial, and since it's a Sir Doy class, they're going to do their sixty-second shows first. I was telling stories about what they're going to do as early as last term, every time I take a break from producing all those imaging elements. It's a weird feeling, being the one telling the stories - if it means one thing, it's that I'm growing old!

Well, not everybody is a strange face. Lynne and Baba were there - erstwhile blockmates who got delayed, for one reason or another. I was seated with Lynne while she was at the VTR room, that place in the studio that they described as the loneliest. I was teaching her how to record the shows and, most importantly, when to record the shows, while talking about the teleprompter. Zet and the rest were reading an instruction manual for some piece of software, and it was proving to be quite a laugh for me. I was telling Lynne about what we did before - when one decided to put Derek, Misha and Fran together, and have them read complicated Filipino. I don't understand why it proved to be funny, but I was still laughing.

Mang Ric understood. Sir Doy saw me and didn't ask me away - besides, I was just watching the kids. One familiar face was even asking me in the studio, although that was never my intention. If there's one excuse I had to use, it's that it makes me feel young - all the laughter, and all the memories. Cheesy, as one might put it - just now I proposed "college memories" on the screenplay and Jason striked it down as cheesy - but true. It was as if I was alone on the stage, finding myself talking about all those experiences inside the studio.

I finally knew one of the younger ones. I didn't forget Rochelle's name, however - I didn't get the name last time, when I first told stories of love formed under the studio lights. I guess it was one of my extra-sociable moments, when I find myself without anything to do and anything to fulfill me. I just watched as Zet made the most of her cracking voice. Well, I didn't imagine it that way.

I also got to talk to JD, otherwise known as the guy with round glasses during gender studies class. That was the first thing he asked me about today. Turns out he hasn't joined the mailing list, and has no idea about homework. One attendance point down.

There wasn't anything else different, however. They were still being taught the same commands, the same techniques, and the same things. If I did something productive during my hour's stay, it's to give out unsolicited advice, the way I've always done to Zet recently. "Huwag kayong gumamit ng DVD," I told another familiar face. "Pangit ang DVD. Gamit kayo ng mini DV." Kat made the most of that before, since they were the only ones who managed to crack the problem and have crisp videos for their newscast. And then I realize that they haven't had video production class yet, and as Mang Ric figured out, they're struggling a bit more than the rest of us.

I left when they left. I just dropped a quick goodbye to Mang Ric and proceeded to go up the stairs, back to M319, with my group of friends and acquaintances, and my own lessons, and me own worries. JD did make it, without getting asked anything, but nothing else happened aside from that. I just went along with my usual rambunctious discussion, surrendered a planner to Lost and Found, and went home.

Sometimes I imagined whether I'd be used as a talent for some of their productions. They have to in the end, when the all-too-familiar stipulation - don't use anybody within your group as talents - takes effect. It's funny thinking that I might contend with getting over hyperactivity again, especially when you think that I have friends in that Monday class. I better brace for the possibility, I think.

I wonder what they think of their minutes of fame.

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