The Beyonce Experience

I’m not much of a Beyonce fan, or an avid R&B/pop listener for that matter, so when I was asked to cover the concert, I was completely nonchalant about it. Upon discovering we were seated miles away from the actual platform and being nearsighted, I was so convinced my buttocks would just be warming up the uncomfortable plastic seat since I’d just be sitting there partly listening and mostly SMS-ing. Plus, the horrendous opening act by a local character named “Picasso” made me cringe as he rapped about God knows what, cause all I understood were “uhs”, “yeahs”, and the rest of whatever he said were so brilliantly slurred that when he said: “This is my last song”, I actually heard people cheer.

Minutes later, I saw the screen light up and standing in the middle of the stage, dressed in a tiny sparkly silver dress was the same figure we have come to recognize as Beyonce. She looked mighty fine and remarkably hot, and the moment she bellowed that she was there to entertain, the crowd screamed and jumped from their seats, which by then, they were already standing on. But that’s them. I, together with Inquirer.net reporter Alex Villafania, and Strategic Edge account executive Rica Oquias ditched our seats and migrated closer to the screen in high hopes of at least getting a peek of Beyonce.

Standing in the middle of the open field, only seconds into her hit single, “Crazy in Love”, I lost regard for anything whatsoever and quickly joined the euphoria that contaminated every human being within the vicinity. She was utterly phenomenal and massively mesmerizing with her bodacious physique – which by the way was insanely fit as no fat jiggled when she rocked her signature body thumps, commonly and locally known as “the ocho ocho”.

Singing approximately 15 songs including a fiery old school medley of songs she sung with Destiny’s Child, Beyonce only left the stage for about six costume changes only to come back to further intoxicate the crowd with the no-lip-synching-pure-singing-and-dancing Beyonce Experience. In the times she was backstage slipping onto her super sultry outfits, her all-female band, and dancers grazed the stage with stupefying solos that touched upon a quarter of the spectrum of performing arts: breaking beats with the drummer, a classical remix of the Flight of the Bumblebee by her pianist, a pop-R&B improvisation by her other pianist, a sexy jazz piece by her saxophonist, a rock jam with her bassist; not to mention modern ballet, contemporary jazz, back-breaking hip-hop dance numbers.

I abused my vocal chords to excessive yelling by the time she sung her finale, “Irreplaceable”, but I have no regrets being caught up and participating in the Beyonce Experience. My only regret was giving my sister my VIP ticket, but now that I'm typing this I realize that she deserves it since she's a good kid. The best part is, anyone of any age, any gender, and of any music genre fan, will definitely admire and appreciate for her heartfelt passion for entertaining, and her performance for its captivating variety. From an apathetic person, I am now a fan “ready for her jelly”.

Where the Saints at?

è una buona mattina except that my back is experiencing random pierces of pain, probably from the stress yesterday, my first working day...despite that day being a national holiday but hey, I'm not complaining.

I sort of called it an early night on the 31st and went home at 4AM so I could be up and about the next morning. I was up around 10AM, uploading photos and videos onto my laptop and started getting ready to trek down the streets to the Makati Catholic Cemetery to cover my first assignment when I was phoned that I needed to send my video coverage of last nights' event asap already. I listened intently to his instructions as to how to expedite the process of getting it to the web when BAM! DSL light on my modem decides to not show itself. Trying to remain composed, I sat around for a few minutes, glaring back at the modem every other second like Matilda's soul would take over mine and give me super powers; but after a long 15 minutes, (and trust me, when you want something sent NOW, 15 minutes is seriously a long time --- stories can be written and edited in 15 minutes) I started to fiddle around with the wires. I plugged and unplugged, detached and reattached, and then, there was light! I scramble from under the computer table onto my bed where my laptop was only to open a web page to: YOU ARE NOT CONNECTED TO THE INTERNET. Holy guacamole. I couldn't take this frustration anymore so I packed all my stuff so I could go to the nearest internet cafe in the area to send my stuff.

I started breathing easy once it was sent and my boss was able to download it...until he phoned and told me about some hissing sound in the file, and how the general feel was not too good. Bummerrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr! Denying myself to feel any emotion whatsoever -- so it wouldn't affect my next assignment -- I went to the cemetery and scouted the place while thinking of who I could talk to, what shots would look good, etc. But at the back of my head, my inner voice resonated when it questioned my abilities. The moment I allowed myself to think that, I had already submitted myself into the realm of being thrown off and losing focus.

The cemetery was humid and hot because of the heavy flow of people walking in and out, which contributed to my feelings of inadequacy. But whatever, I made myself brush off any self-doubt, thought of his comments for improvement, and went with it. I'm the first multimedia reporter, and as my other boss said, there will be warts along the way and it'll be a rough at first but it'll get better.

"It'll get better." That thought pushed me. And after covering, interviewing, and actually having fun at the place, it was posted as the main highlight of the inquirer.net gallery. Like ok, when you go to inquirer.net, its the first video there. I hope you guys enjoy watching the video too! I know I enjoyed shooting it, despite some difficulty with my Filipino but it'll get better :)

Now, I just have to figure out why my laptop has no audio output, and why there's a faint red light beaming through the ear/headphone hole on the side. I feel so helpless, the normal feeling of any tech illiterate. But it can be fixed. :)
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Anyway, I found this super cool piece of Warhol online.