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15 Minutes of Fame

March 7th, 2012

I guess everyone get’s their 15 minutes of fame in life. In my case, it lasted about 4 hours when I decided to hijack Opey and J.R.’s dj gig at Monarchy a few months back. I mean, they were totally asking for it when they poked fun at Steely Dan and smashed that slice of pepperoni pizza in my face. What was I supposed to do? Just sit back and let two dj’s trash one of the greatest bands of all time and then spill soda on my head?! I think not. This isn’t high school after all. But after I tied them up and took over the turntables that evening I realized a few things. One, djs are the new rock stars. And two, no matter how wild and crazy you can you get a crowd going to the music you spin, today’s generation is just not that into Steely Dan and well, that’s ok with me.

Regardless of the Steely Dan fact, I still managed to make the crowd get “Outta Their Minds” like Lil Jon always says. And while everyone danced in a crazed, drunken, debaucherous frenzy, I came to an even bigger sociological conclusion. All the harsh judgements, belittlement’s, and criticisms people might have made about me in the past suddenly turned into admiration, praise, & acclaim as I made them dance. All the girls that never even thought to bat an eye at me before suddenly looked my way with a seductive stare because well, all the other girls were doing the same thing. Just as I never wanted to be considered an outcast, no one in a party full of people having fun wants to look like a wallflower so they all join in the fun, even if the dj is wearing a ridiculous bow tie and paid pants pulled way above his waist.

The fact is though, your only as famous as your last successful party. Once people start forgetting how much fun they had with you however, all the harsh judgements begin to resurface and the all magic you’ve created for them begins to fade fast. Popularity is a job, fame is only held beyond your 15 minutes if you keep up appearances and keep outdoing yourself. That’s why all these “one hit wonders” are just that, one hit wonders. They never kept up appearances or could ever outdo the one hit that they created at one point in time. The flip side to that is, the more appearances you make, the more people get sick of you so you have to keep a balance. I’m not sure if I’m ready for fame beyond the 15 minutes I was given. The one thing I do know for certain is, I will continue to play Steely Dan at parties every chance I get until it catches on.

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Gone Country

February 22nd, 2011

It’s becoming more apparent to me just how routine our lives can be. No matter how spontaneous we may think we are, we all resort back to our regular routines, week in and week out. They keep us grounded. Keep us feeling safe and secure. Like a safety net, ready to catch us if we should slip scaling the high wire tight rope that is our everyday lives. It’s only when we fall in love do our routines start to lose meaning. The values we once held true may start to fade as we see the world through the eyes of those we love. Opinions we’ve once had, priorities we’d thought were so important to us start to change as we walk in our loved ones shoes.

Before I met Patty, I never thought I’d wear a cowboy hat. I never thought I’d learn how to ride a horse, line dance, or even sing country songs as I took a shower for that matter. But I did. Suddenly these things became important to me because well, they were important to her. I just wanted her to notice, and notice she did. She noticed how much I could never quite figure out the watermelon crawl, how much I tripped over my feet trying to break in my cowboy boots, and how many times I fell off of horses, almost breaking my neck. But she did notice.

What I began to notice however was that she was in love with someone too. Someone that wasn’t me. Someone that swept her off of her feet when he danced, not that had to be swept off of the dance floor for fumbling the two-step. Someone that made her laugh alot more than I could. Someone who looked alot better with his shirt off than I did. Someone who made me try alot harder at things I never thought I would even try in the first place. Someone I would befriend. Someone I’d learn was a great person who loved Patty with all his heart. Someone I didn’t want to be jealous of. Someone who I wanted to congratulate. Someone whom I did congratulate, as I went back to my everyday routine. A routine that now includes humming country melodies as I do the laundry.

-Fin

Photo’s by Ptah Quammie & Nick Flash

Model- Brooke Helvie

Posted in love, Music, Short Stories | 1 Comment »

Into The groove

February 3rd, 2011

I couldn’t just look at her and tell that her favorite artist was Madonna. I’m not really a mind reader. I probably wouldn’t have even played “Lucky Star” that night had I not gotten to know her. She’s the kind of girl that all dj’s wanna play for. That girl who sings along to every word and dances all night like there is no tomorrow. She doesn’t care if the song thats playing is “on the radio” or if it’s something that she has never heard in her life, she just dances. She electrifies the room. Even the wallflowers feel that sudden urge to boogie when they watch her. Her rhythm is contagious. I wondered what she’s like when she wasn’t dancing. Does she have that same unbridled passion for life when there was no Music playing? I had to find out. She surrounded herself with girlfriends however, girlfriends whose only job was to protect her from “nice guys”, “douche-bags”, and so called “players” whose only agenda was to get in her pants. I said hello to her friends but I ignored her. I took pictures of them and told them jokes but I never looked her way. There was so much I wanted to ask her, but I knew the second I acknowledged her, her friends would giver her that “Okay let’s go, this guy’s just trying to Fuck You” look. After winning her friends over, she looked at me with this seductive curiosity and asked me, “Are you gonna play Madonna tonight? I absolutely love Madonna.” “If your lucky” I told her, even though I wanted to say how I would play anything she wanted if it made her smile. I gave her a wink to translate the message. I wanted to play “Into the Groove” right when my fingers touched the Cdj’s, but I held off. I had to build the anticipation. As she danced, she looked to me in suspense after each mix, wondering when that moment would come when she would hear Madonna and just let loose. I held off until both of us couldn’t stand it anymore and then I played “Dress you up in My Love.” The lyrics just expressed everything I was feeling at the moment and more. I ended up playing 15 more Madonna songs that night because every time I did, her excitement would electrify the rest of the dance floor. I would have probably played more, but her girlfriends dragged her out 5 minutes before the party ended with the, “Let’s go, that dj played Madonna just to try and Fuck You” speech.

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Party In The U.S.A

February 3rd, 2011

I never thought the day would come when I didn’t have their song. I always had their song. Before it had ever became “their song” I had it. Before the radio had ever gotten a hold of it, I was playing it. Was I out of touch? They sure thought I was. They told me I was a “Poopy Head” and a “Pee Pee Brain.” They called me names like “Booger Face” and “Farty Mac Fart Fart.” Am I getting old? I sure felt like it. They told me if I didn’t let them scratch the records, they would scream and tell their mommies I was using cuss words around them. I let them scratch. I looped the intro to Mile Cyrus’s “Hoedown Throwdown” and had them scratch that over the beat of “The Electric Slide.” “This is Fun!!” they shouted. After they got bored with scratching, they stole my hat and used it as a frisbee. While my hat was keeping them amused, I played some of the best of disco and mowtown jams for their mommies to dance too. “Play Your a Jerk! Play Your a Jerk!” they shouted, as their moms danced to Donna Summers. I knew if I played “Your a Jerk” it would clear the dance floor for sure. They stuck their tongues out at me. “Play Soldier Boy! Play Soldier Boy!” they shouted. I sure as hell wasn’t gonna interrupt “Earth Wind & Fire” for Soldier Boy, so for that I got a few good kick’s to the shin. I started to wonder what it would be like when they grow up and have kids of their own. Would they say the same thing that their parents told them? ” You know, when we were your age, we used to listen to REAL music like “Lil Wayne, Lady Gaga, Britney Spears & Keisha”, all this new music you listen to today will rot your brains. I can only imagine. Needless to say, after the moms finished all the Champagne & Christmas cookies, and were exhausted from dancing and singing along to “I Will Survive” & “Ain’t no Mountain High Enough”, I decided to try and salvage my relationship with the kids. I mixed in almost every Miley Cyrus and Jonas Brothers song I had, and I even danced “The Cupid Shuffle” and “The Cha-Cha Slide” with them. They still called me “Booger Face” and took my hat, but this time, I knew they did it out of respect.

Photo by: Murkem

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