DJ

It’s going to be a fully geek weekend for me as I am on-call until Monday morning. I have various projects to keep me busy so I won’t be bored or anything like that. I’ll probably write in the blog quite a bit. I tend to get chatty when I’m not as distracted by the work week.

Back in 1986 I was just discovering the gay bar during my freshman year of college. It was around this time that I first stepped into “Doc’s” in Jamestown, New York. Located in the basement of a pediatrician’s office, I never drank or anything but rather just enjoyed the vibe and the music. I was introduced to the experience by a college senior and fellow music major named Steve. He resembled Herbie (“I want to be a dentist”) from Rudolph the Red-nosed Reindeer and was an AMAZING pianist. He probably still is. Last I knew he lived in Schenectady.

One of the things I liked about Doc’s was that the DJ played the British dance stuff that was popular in the mid 1980s. One of the tracks that he played was by a duo called “Pepsi and Shirlie”. Their most popular song was “Heartache”. It’s very 80s sounding.

Bonus points to those that can name the group we first saw Pepsi and Shirlie with.

I’m always amused when I read various blogs from big city folk and they talk about how the clubs are too busy and things are just too gay gay gay some days. There is just simply too much to do and they have no idea how they are going to fit it all into their schedule.¹

After a one week absence, last night I DJ’d at the only gay club within 50 miles of our house. It’s my regular Friday night gig and one that I moderately enjoy. I have to tame my music selection considerably in order to keep the crowd’s attention, as the belief in these parts is that if you haven’t heard it regurgitated on the radio and can’t sing the words to it, it’s not worth the time or energy to dance to. At least I have gotten them trained to realise that remixes are o.k. and that super electronically augmented Britney is still super electronically augmented Britney regardless of what has been done to the song to make it a little more bearable.

There were less than 20 people in the club the entire night. At 12:50 a.m. I couldn’t continue the gig in good conscious and drain one of the cash registers with my appearance fee, so I slashed my prices faster than you can say Wal*Mart (Always White Trash, Always), popped in one of my pre-mixed CDs that would carry them to closing and said good night. It wasn’t that I couldn’t fill the dance floor with the music selection, there wasn’t anyone to get onto the dance floor to begin with. The club used to thrive and the dance floor used to be packed. Last night I considered shooting off a cannon to see if I could hit anyone.

At first I took this personally and figured that this old warhorse has run his course and can’t draw the crowds in like he used to. But as we made our way home Earl and I drove through the Brewery District and found all the clubs there dead as well. There just ain’t any people here.

That kind of sucks.

Earl and I do a lot of traveling to keep our schedules busy, to play with those that think like us and to find a day that is just too gay gay gay. So if you’re a reader from a big city that has managed to squeeze the time to read this entry into your hectic schedule, please be advised that there are many of us out here that have little to do outside of bitching about the small town we live in on our blog.

¹ This is not to be confused with being too immersed in the culture. Sometimes too much of a good thing is really too much of a good thing, but it’s still a good thing.