Non-Disclosure

Because of a non-disclosure contract I had to sign I can’t really tell you the details of what I saw today. We don’t have a TV, so most of what I saw didn’t make much sense to me anyway, as my generous new friend who made today’s “adult time” possible can attest.
“Who’s that?”
“That’s [don’t tell, Philipp].”
“Why are we cheering for h[xx]?”
“Because [tsk, tsk].”
“Oh, I know h[xx]! Isn’t that [hey!]?”
“Yes. And that’s [cut it out] right there.”
“Wow.”

After Sunday I’m free to tell you most of it, I guess. Let’s just say I saw people do things while cameras were recording both those doing things and those reacting to the things being done. And said. Sometimes even repeated, because of retakes. I think I’m allowed to tell you that I was made to cheer in differing degrees and that my arms got quite tired from applauding. But I held out, like a trooper. (“Whooo! I’m involved in the magic of TV! Yay! I’m almost two steps removed from having a chance of being nearly famous in an obscure niche market!”)

Oh, and guess the color of the greenroom. Green, but only because the show’s logo is. (Common knowledge, right? I’m not in trouble for that, right?)

Anyway, while waiting in said holding area – an activity most budget flyers will be familiar with – we were told to be very quiet at one point. The director said, “Big quiet.”

For some reason, I immediately thought of the emendation, “Anne Frank quiet.” But I had the good sense not to say it out loud. (It was the one time in my life where I was quite confident I’d get a laugh, and I opted to be nice instead. Only my wife, I think, will truly appreciate that.)