DJ Eighties. (part three)

Time for damage control.

"ok, if it sucks we have to say it was good no matter what. I took such a razzing.'
'ha ha ha yeah I know they were eating you alive, ha ha ha.'

When I go down, I'm going down alone it's clear to me now. Prepare thine self for death young Jedi.

'Man I hope it's not dead.'
'me too.'
'twenty-bucks will keep a lot of people away.'
'word.'
'and it's only Thursday.'
'people gotta work.'
'yup.'

'there's a bit of a line up.'
'that's a good sign.'
We get in line. I try to think of ways to 'turn lemons into lemonade'. All I can see is my 20 bucks going into a shedder. Not working. If it sucks I'll just get hammered and well... I'm sure embarrass myself in some way or another.

I'll just try not to think about anything. Talk to me buddha for once I'm listening.

I watch the faces of girls in front of me as the guy rips my ticket. As they turn the corner I'll know for sure if it's dead by their reaction.
Shit.
It's empty.

Make ready the shit eating grin, piffy my boy, soups on.

We turn the corner.

Hey... (bewildered)
No...(stunned)
It's OK...(confused but smiling)
Opening DJ is pumping out tunes, a decent share of folks spread out through the place. Things are ...well, there ok.

'Keep your eye out for Jamie.'
Jamie instantly emerges from the crowd. 'Hey Guys! whadap? Drinks are half-price.'
'So much for not getting sloshed.'
'This is going to be awesome! This guy is going to blow you away. He's crazy good. Fucking crazy good.'

Jamie's Enthusiasm was contagious. Shit is turning around here. Jamie's got a crew. Drinks are cheap, the place is filling up, it's not too hot in here. well Alright!

'Who is THIS guy?' Pointing at the DJ.
'Don't know, but he sucks, we don't like him.'
I turn to the dance floor. 'tell me I don't look like THAT guy when I dance.'
There laughing made me nervous.

But DJ Whoever sounds ok to me, but, hell Jamie's the hip-hop producer, what the Jesus do I know about it.

I saw an odd looking bunch making there move to the dance floor. It was like a cross between a special missions unit and a side show. Big black guy built like a lumber-jack with a Sixers jersey, a tall white guy dressed all in red head to toe, tuke (sp?), baggy T-shirt, baggy pants, red shoes, the works, a little maybe vietnamese guy about 5' 3" and about a hundred pounds of pure energy and two nondescript sideways hat wearing hip-hop soldiers of fortune. This Hip-Hop A-Team took turns attacking the music.

While they were strutting around, I started to wonder about the actual coolness of this. Is this cool? I'm mean look at these guys. These guys are as much geeks as some guy who plays Dungeons and Dragons and watches too much japanese animation, these guys just do it in public. They sit around in there basements and work out moves, other geeks sit in their basements and roll dice. They have there own language of 'busting moves, jiggy-wit-it' which is pretty easily matched with '13 hit-dice Elf. and the 10th-level Fireball' Geeks are just obsessed hobbyist. Most people are obsessed hobbyist in their own right, but they just won't admit it. TV is a hobby, lotsa TV junkies out there. When people start talking about survivor or Gary Beals with tenacity and emotion, I feel like there talking about there Dungeons and Dragons character and I'm from another planet.

They all think they are rock-stars. There bravado was a little stomach-turning. I don't have much patience for macho and this is so over the top.

Captain red clothes goes down on one knee and the little guy steps in his hand (or something the Sixers's lumberjack guy was kind in my way) and the little guy flies into the air in a psycho-hypnotic acrobatic hip-hop hop-hippery. He flew 14 feet through the air. It was amazing. His legs just crumple underneath him when he hits the concrete floor. He's grabbing he legs and rolling all over the floor I thought he broke them or they must of popped out of the socket. The rolls and spins continue. I can't really see what's going on but a back flip later he was on his feet wiping his forehead and walking back to the crew at the edge of the circle. High-fives all around.

'Holy fuck! That was fucking COOL!'
'Fucking right! Are these guys local?'
'I don't know I'll ask Jamie.'
'yup. there local.'
'shit man, they're awesome.'

Ok, if these guys are geeks, I want in. I'm totally eating my thoughts.

The pre-show continued. There were guys jumping, flying, contorting, spinning, bending, flipping, crazy mutant balances, handstands, by themselves, in unison, in teams of two, three four and a six. There were a couple girls jumping in to the mix doing there crazy trix. It was wholly a show of it's own.

The circle was wide and about ten deep. People stood awkwardly trying to see something between the heads. The red guy stood on his hands and got the crowd clapping to the music with his feet. The little guy was like a fucking ninja, he was a blur of limbs and acrobatics, I'm not even sure he was human at this point. But the guy that blew me away, was the Sixers lumber-jack, I had just watched 'One Flew Over The Cuckoo's Nest' again and the way he stood tall and thick, just watching, reminded me of 'chief.' Then he moved, like the moment when 'chief' steps in to help McMurphy, surprising though inevitable. He stepped into the circle, first a little of this and a little of that. Then bam he's on the floor kicking his legs rolling, spinning, doing all the crazy ninja moves. This guy was a monster of a human being and he was as quick as a cat. shit. With the little guy it was was to be expected but the strong man here... To me he changed the rules, it was fascinating. It's official, this is sir psycho-crazy's hip-hop circus. I hope the main attraction was worth the price of admission, even still this was something to write home to mom about. Mom are you reading this?


(to be continued)

Today's Song of the Day is "Rockit" by Herbie Hancock off his 1983 album "Future Shock."

Crazy Fact: Having taken up the piano at age seven, Hancock quickly became known as a prodigy, soloing in the first movement of a Mozart piano concerto with the Chicago Symphony at the age of 11.

njoy