2 Minutes

TELEVISION:

The average daily TV news story runs about 2 minutes long.

This is what it takes to put that very quick vignette on a news program: Every morning -- after reading the newspapers and listening to radio reports -- I speak with my assignment desk out of Vancouver. I will either be assigned a story or pitch something that is happening on the Island.

At that point, I have to quickly get up to speed on that specific topic (which could be anything from provincial budget details to criminal investigations to how whales mate). It includes internet research and "cold calls" to anyone connected to the topic.

These cold calls are instrumental ... while chatting for the research, I am also trying to ascertain if they will make a good interview for my story. If so, then I have to convince them to put their nerves aside, and do a televison interview. All of this takes friendliness, charm, and trust-building with the person ... remember it is all on the phone and I'm working in a very tight time frame.

Then, we have to actually shoot the interviews and cover shots (b-roll). It means coordinating with their schedule, travelling to location, doing the interview (convincing people they ARE doing a great job, encouraging them to relax and trust me), getting cover shots, and then trying to see where it all fits together.

Amidst all of this, my Blackberry is in constant use. About every minute, I receive an email or phone call that must be taken care of. Emails from political parties ... from colleagues who are hoping I can ALSO do an interview for them in Victoria ... or from the newsroom as we fine-tune the story's focus as the day unfolds. The mind is constantly engaged as you try to drill down through the excess words and information to find the core of the story. I only have two minutes to tell it, after all.

After interviews and other visuals are shot, we head back to the building (in my case, the press gallery in the legislature), where I shotlist the interviews (full transcripts), write a script, get it vetted by a producer in Vancouver and then head downstairs to our edit suite. This is all happening as the clock ticks towards that 6pm deadline.

I voice my script. My cameraman/editor Marc edits the story. I send the times of interviews (to super the person's name live into the show). And THEN ... if it's a hot story of the day ... we go outside and do a live hit. The live hit means setting up cameras, lights, checking audio, ... heavy makeup to hide the stress of the day. Through my earpiece I can hear the show's director in Vancouver giving me a time count, and then I hear our hosts Gloria or Ian throwing to me in Victoria and then I go live. Often with people stopping to gawk, yahoos honking their horns, sometimes so tired that I hope I don't forget my lines.

I often feel invigorated yet mentally exhausted after I get the story to air.

And when you see the final item on TV ... all you see ... is 2 minutes.

SALSA PERFORMANCE:

The average choreographed salsa routine is about
2 minutes long.

Our choreographer, Christina Morrison, spent hours at home working on the moves - for two people - before even meeting up for rehearsals. Finessing a routine that she could teach to both me and Charles and have us performance-ready in 12 weeks. Keeping in mind that I was an absolute beginner ... having never couple-danced in my life.
BIG learning curve.

For the past twelve weeks, I've gotten up around 6:30am and driven to Cafe Casablanca ... on the dance floor by 8am. For an hour and a half before work, we learned, sweated, got frustrated, felt excited, bonded, learned to trust each other, and share conversations through dance.

From Day 1, they had to teach me basic salsa steps before even imagining doing spins, lifts, flips ... not to mention the sassy attitude that salsa dancers must have when performing.

After that, came the task of learning to dance with another person for the first time (aside from dancing on Dad's feet as a little girl, or the Grade 9 cafeteria dances to Def Leppard's "Love Bites"). I had a mental block about letting a man lead (see previous blog posts) ... but eventually learned how the body (with some practice) will know when to turn, how to step, and when to show off ... simply by acknowledging the subtle pressure on the shoulder, the hand hold, the way your body shimmies when the music feels right. That didn't come overnight for me, as my dance partner Charles can attest! :)

And then ... the choreography. Wow, do I love this routine! But like any builder knows, you have to have a good foundation, which is what my salsa posse taught me. From there, I have learned a funky, hot, and ultra cool routine that I'm proud to perform. But it has not come overnight. From learning - and remembering - the choreography to this fast-paced routine ... to trusting my partner's lead ... to cleaning up the parts that just weren't flashy enough ... to actually letting go and allowing the muscle memory and the fun of the dance to take over ... we are ONE WEEK away from performing in that ballroom in front of 250 people.

The more confident we've become, the stronger our moves are, and the more intense the rehearsals. SO intense that I fiercely elbowed Charles in the teeth a few weeks ago (no blood) while trying to maintain proper form in a fast triple spin. He returned the favour by shinning me in the side of the head when I didn't duck quickly enough and giving me just a slight concussion. I've gotten bruised arms from the lifts. I've stepped on my own feet. I've stepped on Charles' feet.

By the time I go to work after these rehearsals, I am a little sore, but truly invigorated with joy in my soul.

But all of this is inconsequential.

Because on June 6th when we strut into that ballroom in full costume, with attitude and flirt, doing a fun fast-paced salsa performance ... all YOU will see ... is 2 minutes.