I know. It doesn’t sound right coming from me. It sounds really weird from my inner voice as well. I’m just not hip enough to pull off that title line.
However, it is an accurate description of what’s going down this weekend. “Da Howse” will be a smallish community center in northern Michigan where a milestone anniversary party is taking place for my in laws. Somehow, I was anointed deejay of this event. Who, in their infinite wisdom, decided to give me a forum to amplify my spur-of-the-moment, ill-considered thoughts to an audience? Tsk, tsk, their problem. Not mine. If I feel like comparing their relationship to the stages of a marathon – including but not limited to the mid race bowel movement – during the meal that’s what they get for giving a fool a microphone.
Actually, I have some experience in this area. Long ago, in a time where DJ Jazzy Jeff and the Fresh Prince were competing with Kid N’ Play for top MC honors, I substitute deejayed on a couple of occasions to fill in for a friend on some “gigs”. I fashioned myself as a white LL Cool J at the time. I was a regular DJ Blumpkin before anyone knew what a blumpkin was.
On those occasions, I had some memorable experiences:
- I invented the dousing of the dance lights (including the cliched spinning disco ball) during The B52’s The Love Shack famous “tin roof…rusted” interlude at a community college dance. Always a crowd pleaser.
- At a redneck wedding reception, I witnessed a bride throw her bouquet into the light fixture and then, as none of the “gentlemen” present would assist with its retrieval, proceed to grab a chair, stand on it wedding dress and all, and wave a broom stick in an attempt to knock it out until my deejay buddy and I offered to do it for her. Afterwards, of course, we slid behind the music stands and laughed hysterically for a half hour.
-At another wedding, we watched in horror as the unpopular bride during the dollar dance was discounted. It’s called a dollar dance, of course, because the price to pay for the dance is $1. The groom had a huge line. The bride? Not so much. So, an announcement was made that it would only be .50 cents to dance with her. No kidding.
So that’s where I’ll be Saturday night. On top of it all, as Mrs. Nitmos can attest, I absolutely HATE wedding reception music (which this will most likely mimic): Achy Breaky Heart, a polka or two, the complete collection of Luther Vandross sprinkled throughout the night. And I’ll be responsible for playing it. I’ll probably issue each song with an apology. ‘I’m sorry, I have to play this next.’ And so on.
To make matters worse, I have a long run the next morning so I won’t be able to hydrate as much as I normally would. Although one shock to the system with “Celebration” by Kool and the Gang may be all I need to send me scrambling for the rum.
It’s time to dig out and iron my slick, thin, keyboard tie. DJ Nitmos is in da howse.
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