How I survived the CMMA

It must have been ages since I attended the Catholic Mass Media Awards (CMMA). The last time I went, it was still at the gardens of Villa San Miguel in Mandaluyong (still to be a city then) – and with no TV coverage.

Last Monday night’s CMMA rites, however, impressed me no end. It was staged at the small, but nevertheless posh auditorium of the RCBC Plaza and was even covered by Channel 13 (for a later airing though) and the people on the floor were exactly the same crew I used to work with in those big-time Gawad Urian shows I did for Tessie Celestino’s Airtime Marketing, Inc. in the past. The CMMA has really come a long way and I’m happy for its progress.

In the past, I would attend the CMMA as judge for film (along with Fr. Nick Cruz, Prof. Rina Jimenez David, a favorite teacher who taught me about "transition" in writing). But this time, I came in as presenter – which meant that I had to wear something formal. That was really no problem. For the girls, maybe – because they have to get something new from their designers. But for men – all we have to do is send our old suits out for dry-cleaning and we’re good and ready.

Unfortunately, Mondays are usually bad days for me and so I was reluctant to accept the invitation to attend the CMMA. However, I could never say no to casting director Gorgy Rula and so I went and braced myself for traffic.

But the Catholic Mass Media Awards must really be a blessed event because Monday afternoon traffic was a breeze along EDSA – and even on Ayala Avenue. Behind the wheel, I was beginning to ask myself if I was still in the Philippines. And then I realized that college students were on a break – which was probably the reason why there was no traffic. It was then that this crazy idea entered my mind: Why don’t we just stop sending kids to college so that there would be no traffic? Oh, that was just an idle thought – so perish it.

Since I managed to get to Makati from Greenhills in 20 minutes, I got to RCBC Plaza at 5:30. (Gorgy’s call time for me was 6 p.m.) At the fourth floor where the auditorium is located, I walked past the buffet table (but carefully eyed the pancit on the warming dish) and headed for the dressing room. There I said hello to TJ Manotoc and Christine Jacob, who were the hosts that evening.

Part One of the CMMA was still in full swing (the one without the telecast). But not to worry, Part One would be over soon and then we can begin with Part Two – the one with the telecast.

Since there was still time, I asked permission to eat. They told me to please go ahead and proceed to the buffet table outside. On my way there, I bumped into designer Eric Pineda, who once made a barong Tagalog for me that was so durable, every male production member at ABS-CBN was able to borrow it to wear as best man to weddings, as ninong in baptismal parties and even as consorte in a Santacruzan in Bataan.

During my rather lengthy chat with Eric, I kept eyeing the tray of pancit bihon beside me and I was aching to have even just one serving. (I was so hungry by then – having had only a small bowl of cereals for lunch.)

But when I was finally able to excuse myself from Eric and was in the very motion of digging into the pancit, Gorgy called me up to tell me I was already needed backstage.

When I reached backstage, the opening number was still being readied. But I had to be there where they could see me because I was among the first set of presenters. I was put on standby. In show business, however, standby could mean from five minutes to two years.

Meanwhile, other presenters started filling in the dressing room. When Cheche Lazaro came in, everyone stood up – among them Bernadette Sembrano and Love Añover – to say hello to Ma’am. I asked Cheche if Malacañang had already reacted to Probe Team’s edition of supposed election cheating by guess who? She said no, but if ever martial law is declared, she is quite sure that she will be among those who will get hauled off to jail. If that happens, I will visit her and probably bring her…pancit? Oh, yeah, when will I get to eat my pancit?

Outside the dressing room, I saw Arnold Clavio, Rhea Santos and Paolo Contis. They were also waiting for their turn as presenters. To while the time away, we swapped political gossip. Since there was so much time to spare, Arnold called for a utility to ask if there was food for us. Shortly after, the utility emerged with Styrofoam boxes overflowing with pancit. Arnold was handing me a box, but I was told by one of the floor directors that I couldn’t eat anymore because they were going to call me anytime. Remember, I was on standby?

I just looked with envy as Rhea twirled the firm strands of bihon into her plastic fork, which with ease and grace made its way into her mouth. Oh, what delicious pancit it must have been – I told myself while she chewed ever so gently like she was doing a commercial shoot for first-class bihon. All I could do was salivate.

After several minutes, they had already consumed the last strand of pancit and I was still there – on standby.

Finally, they called newscaster Precious Hipolito and I on stage to present the first set of awards for advertising. I looked at the stack of cue cards and saw that it was eight pages. We were probably on stage for so long that at one point I began asking myself if I had signed up as presenter or host of the program. In the end, Precious and I must have given out six awards and four special citations. But that was okay. It was our pleasure. Precious and I just felt uncomfortable because in the audience were Vice President Noli de Castro and Manila Archbishop Gaudencio Rosales. The last thing we wanted was to get excommunicated – and so we were on our best behavior.

With our chores done, I rushed outside and headed straight to the buffet table for my pancit (finally!), except that Nelson Canlas of 24 Oras stopped me and interviewed me about the night’s proceedings. Other crewmen from various stations followed suit and all of a sudden microphones were shoved up my face waiting for me to make a statement. I was still forming the letter W with my mouth to say "Wonderful" when who would pass by but Vice President Noli de Castro? In a split second, everyone had deserted me to run after VP Noli. Yes, even Nelson, my beloved writer in Startalk, left me. (See you on Saturday, Nelson! It’s payback time.)

While standing there alone, I managed to look toward the buffet table and to my horror found out that the pancit bihon was gone. The warming dish was there, but it was empty, except for some sorry-looking strands hanging by the brim. What have I done to deserve this? Reporters desert you and they run out of pancit. What fate could be worse than this?

After the reporters were done with the Vice President, they all went back to me and while licking what was still left of my pride managed to say some very positive comments about the Catholic Mass Media Awards.

Seriously, I meant every word I said about the CMMA because – having been part of it in the past – I am just so happy to see it grow to what it is today. It may not have been as grand as the other awards presentations, but it still succeeded in what it hoped to achieve. The rites were simple, elegant and very orderly.

And for all that waiting, I have to say I truly enjoyed the evening – almost.

If only they left pancit for me.