Its not just a fucking party!

This is my first post and, it was supposed to be a manifesto,but this post is far more important! I have made a career out of partying. Bon vivant, liver of the good life,  citizen of the leisure society, etc. partying has taken up most of my young life. It was not until now that I realized just how important a party can be.

Last winter, my fledgling DJ career began.  A friend asked me to come and play music for the early part of his , now defunct, weekly hip-hop party catering to the young black all boy crowd. Although I hadn't a clue about mixing , he trusted my taste, and I figured it was a safe way to learn.A few months into the gig, I lamented to a fellow DJ and housemate how hard it was.  The promoters were flaky. There was never a consistent crowd. Bar management and staff were moody  and the drifters (who made up most of the business) were oblivious that they were crashing a party. Nobody seemed to care about what the poor DJ was going through, trapped in the middle.

Lesson# 1: A party is complicated!

To paraphrase my knowledgeable comrade replied " A party means allot. The party-goers are there to relieve stress. Bars are trying to sell liquor and keep there space. Promoters are in it for all sorts of reasons. A party is a fucking big deal!" I went in that week with a mission. I was performing a service and it was a duty to make the atmosphere live! I tried not to be annoyed by requests,but take them as learning tools. Building up my collection to go with what I heard asked for most. Playing songs that made the most people happy. It was a shaman like position, not a vulnerable one as I believed.

Over the next year I experienced many highs and lows. Many due to promoters.

Lesson#2: Promoters are flaky.

I have been linked to over a dozen promoters.  Foolishly I allowed myself to be tied to events that were underpromoted, overexaggerrated, but mostly plain dumb. Business is about assurity, and DJing would have to take a backseat to this reality. Loving something does not mean you have to suffer for it. 

I got a backbone eventually. 

Lesson#3: The space is the key.

Late in 2008 there was a murder near one of the venues I spun at regularly.Washington DC Hub -- (Gay Washington DC?) Towleroad, blog with ...

It sent shock waves through my little community. I got calls from friends all over the country asking if I know the victim. I did not, but had seen him out at local bars. The soap opera that followed enlisted a cast of community activists, church leadership, city councilman, and the venue. The bar itself was only implicated due to proximity. Apparently/allegedly the gentleman was on his way to the venue at the time. Vilification ensued as the daggers flew. It was a shameful/learning/pitiful/beautiful experience. 

Lesson#4: Safety is a premium

So here it is a year later and I am still learning to Party. Learning the constant negotiation of public safety and carnal desires. Getting to know what I once thought was just a fun hobby, has transformed me.  Responsibility is a muthafucker!