Labels: BASIS, DJ, IM, teaching

I once was a DJ and enjoy making mixes, but don't have time for it lately. So I find other people's mixes...

When I have my computer online, I will stream some of them. I am not making any money off of this, and the mixes are usually intended to bring relatively unknown music to light.

If any artist feels that their copyrights are being infringed, fine, I'll take your song off. It's your loss, not being exposed to new ears.

So far I have three mixes and will post them in the next few days. More will follow, when I feel like doing them, and no sooner.

Obviously, these mixes are different from the music above, which I wrote myself. That music I have all the copyrights for, thxvrymch.

Cheers
Steve

Currently listening :
Everything All the Time
By Band of Horses

Labels: DJ, mixing

The last post was put up around midnight on Tuesday, January 31st. The previous day, Monday, started out looking pretty bleak. I had 2 days left in the month, lots of bills and basically no money.

A few weeks previous, I had become a member of the Maloney's Rejects. The week before that, Rachel and I had both been sick with a fever for a week (being absent for a week contributed strongly to the Reject thing, to top it off). So we had missed something like 2/3rds of our income for the month, and didn't even have the nice buffer we expected out of what turned out to be a placid New Year's Night at Maloney's. I will unleash the bile I have stored up about that at another time.

I got so desperate to find employment, I was going to be a DJ at TD's (a strip club). I applied for Unemployment and Food Stamps.

But let's back up even more. A few days before even this, I found myself tutoring a grade-school kid about the physical properties of light (and Bernoulli's Principle also and how it powers flight). I decided I ought to look for a job tutoring at a Charter school (which doesn't require a teaching degree)... and promptly did not do that at all. At least not until the Monday that started our story.

That Monday, I started calling all of the Charter schools in Tucson, in alphabetical order, and trying to find a job tutoring. One did decide to give me an interview the next day - BASIS [sic.] Tucson.

So I showed up at BASIS Tucson, and was shooed in to talk to Olga Block, the director. Olga was from Eastern Europe, shrewd, and to the point. We talked about what educational experience I had - lots of individual tutoring in Okinawa, basically - and talked for about 20 minutes. She then told me that she didn't need me in Tucson, or for that matter to teach any of the subjects I had listed. She wanted me up in Scottsdale to teach kids there Art. She wanted me there as soon as possible, and sent me to check out the Art class in that school.

During the meeting, I got a phone call from the Unemployment Office, who wanted to interview me to verify eligibility. Obviously, I never answered.

I arranged to borrow AZ and Tasha's car (Rachel's being needed to get her to work and mine was still in the shop) and stay with my Grandfather-In-Law, Howard. He and his wife are ridicuously kind people - they are the same ones that put together that truck of Rachel's and gave it to us.

I was to check out BASIS on Thursday, and do a demo lesson on Friday. This of course is an insanely tiny amount of time to put together a lesson, but I did it. Turns out, though, that the regular teachers were the ones teaching the Art classes.

Why?

Well ... the short version goes something like this. Back in August, Mrs. Bae was a fine Art teacher who got pregnant and took her maternity leave. She had a few subs while she was gone, naturally. Then in October she came back ... and left just two weeks later when her husband was promoted and moved to L.A.. Then they got another teacher or two. The most recent one tripped on a backpack and smashed her head into a chair, suffering severe head trauma and bleeding all over the place to the horror of her class. Naturally, she wasn't going to teach for awhile and in the meantime the other teachers had taken turns on their breaks substituting.

Howard and Anita (the grandparents in law) live in Peoria, and with rush-hour traffic I needed a full hour and a half and almost fifty miles of driving to get to work. This is not fun.

I arrived on time on Thursday, though, and when I got there, there really wasn't an Art class to observe (what with the teachers not doing Art) - so I started teaching. I had to improvise 4 Art lessons with kids I'd never met in a situation I'd never been in. It was stressful but fun in a mad way and I made it through Thursday pretty well. That night, I had the "let's talk about God and politics" conversation with Howard and despite my comparatively wishy-washy stances on Christianity (I am Catholic, but not anywhere nearly as religious as he is as a Protestant), it went perfectly well.

On Friday, I improvised several lessons and ... totally had the worst time with the one I had actually planned. Rather ironic, really, that the bosses (being Olga and the Director) saw my worst lesson.

But they hired me anyway. Almost on a lark, and because so many had just ejected due to burnout. I think they could tell that I was ridiculously enthusiastic and not so subject to just bailing out on them.

That night I drove down to Tucson quite elated, and came back up to Prescott to buy AZ & Tasha's new car (a '63 VW), and say hello to the in-laws who live there. The next Tuesday was my first day back, though I had to drive Rachel's truck all the time. Since then, I've been staying with my Mom who lives in a much more central location in Phoenix and my transit time went from and hour and a half to about 30 minutes.

And of course now I have more things to talk about: the school, the kids, and so on but that will undoubtedly take up the next several entries...

Currently reading : The Enchanted Forest Chronicles: Dealing with Dragons / Searching for Dragons / Calling on Dragons / Talking to Dragons By Patricia C. Wrede

Labels: art, BASIS, debt, DJ, in-laws, Maloney's, money, school, Scottsdale, teaching

The most interesting part about it - the part the justifies a blog - is that I realise that there's a striking similarity between DJing a house party and a big club (like my old job at Maloney's). When the presents come out, you have to have the music people want to hear but won't really dance to. You can't have too many big dance songs in a row because people almost never manage to keep their insecurity down for more than 15 minutes (especially high school kids). There is an ebb and flow to be maintained, in every presentation of music in sequence: a rock show, on the radio, in a club, in a house, anywhere. Heh ... and in mix tapes. But if you want to know more about that, watch High Fidelity.

Recent books: Chronicles of Chrestomanci, Fight Club, White Teeth.

Currently reading : The Chronicles of Chrestomanci, Volume 1: Charmed Life / The Lives of Christopher Chant By Diana Wynne Jones

Labels: DJ, Maloney's, mixing, music, teenagers

I decided pretty early on not to let the staff have some because there was a lot more staff than giveaways - and to do trivia questions.

Now, that's all well and good but not interesting enough to justify a blog post. The funny part is how people act. I don't generally like doing giveaways because I inevitably end up acting as a referee.

It's not all bad - one guy who answered first and correctly thought I had the new 'Stewie' movie (which hasn't come out yet). He already had the set he had won and so gave it to someone else. That was really cool of him.

On the other hand, one girl literally tackled a guy to prevent him from answering a question (I didn't accept her answer - I don't care if you're right, you have to pay consequences for being a greedy bitch). Another guy actually won one - he got the 5-episode DVD - but kept bugging me to 'trade' for the box set. I told him to answer a question correctly like anyone else. And honestly - you got a free DVD, man, what are you complaining for? Doesn't help that he was attempting to crawl into my ear the whole night.

I feel very uncomfortable even when a good looking girl gets into my little personal space, nevermind a greasy lookin' dude who wants favors. I'm still a little suprised every time a girl thinks that grabbing my crotch or showing more cleavage will get a song (etc.).

Currently listening : Timeless: The Singles Collection By De La Soul

Labels: DJ, idiots, Maloney's, music, rant, rules, stories, true, TV, work

I have a lot of stories and I like to tell them, but any story needs background. Here's the background on this one:

I work at Maloney's on Fourth, a bar, as a DJ. To avoid traffic and pedestrians I go around the back in my '62 baja Beetle. It's loud, but not annoyingly loud, and very bright red with the engine hanging out the back (like most bajas).

I arrive at 9 in the evening and pull around the turn around the back. I'm going a good 25 miles an hour but it's a very broad turn at about a 60 (as opposed to 90) degree angle, plus, since I'm turning left, I'm on the outside of the turn. And I down shifted into second gear, creating a wonderful roar from my, er, 40-horsepower engine.

As I pull in, the other doormen are hanging out behind the bar, and I hear whoops as a police car's lights turn on. I figure they're stopping a drunk guy. I pull into a spot and get out. And then I hear it:

"Stay in the car!" I look around. The spotlight on the cop car is on me. "Get in the car!" I'm a bit bewildered, and look behind me. No, he's definitely talking to me. I get back in my car. I hope this doesn't make me late. This is stupid. Maybe I've got a tail-light out and the cop is bored. Either way, the doormen who are waiting for the shift to start are now watching.

And I wait. Get my license and registration. And wait.

Couple minutes later, cop walks up and says, "well somebody's dumb tonight." I just look at him. I'm floored. I wonder if my engine is on fire and I just didn't notice. All I can manage is, "What?"

"License and registration." I already have it in his hands before the sentence is out of his mouth. "Hmph. How old are you?" I tell him. He walks away without comment, with my license and registration. Probably checking it against their little database. I know I'm clean ... I've never had a moving violation ticket, and only once had an equipment violation (for a tail-light, 'natch). The doormen would like them to have me arrested, judging from the catcalls.

A different cop comes up. Unable to suppress my curiosity I turn around to see the other cop leaning against the car I'm assuming is both of theirs. "OK, what's your deal, man?" he asks me. I stare blankly. "I work here?" Hey, it's the truth. Maloney's must have me trained well to be still thinking of getting to work in time. "My buddy here said that when he asked you how old you are, you said, 'old enough'." Which of course is fine, except for the fact that it's a total lie. But now I'm not sure what the hell's going on. "I didn't. I said I was twenty-four." He scoffs. I hate scoffs.

"You know, you need to learn how to talk to cops better - I mean, I could give you five tickets right now."

Right. Try and I'll see you in court. Now I'm getting a little pissed. He continues.

"You came around that turn real fast, didn't you? Do you know what the speed limit is here?" It's 25 miles per hour. I told him so. He seems disappointed. Jeez, what kind of idiot wouldn't know that the street - which is essentially an industrial alley - would have that limit?

"I saw you coming around that turn at 45 miles an hour."

Ok, wait a second. There's a lot of problems with this. First, I am not a good enough driver to get around that corner that fast - with the gravel that inhabits the corner, I'm not sure Mario Andretti could do it. Second, I was in second gear coming around that turn. I'd have to be in my top gear to do that - that's 4th gear in my little bug. (Yes, I realize that it's sad that 45 MPH is my top gear.) Going 45 in second gear would make my engine go kablooey. Seriously - my 0-60 with those huge back tires, is about 4 minutes. The car had a top speed of about 65 miles per hour - 75 with a good wind and a flat road. And third, why on Earth would I want to go that freaking fast in a blind turn back alley when I know there's several hundred people milling about, possibly including my boss?

Thankfully, my head was filling with reasons to tell this guy what an ass he was so fast none of them came out of my mouth. And he keeps going.

"You know, if you're going to have a car build for speed..." - my eyes bulged in an effort to control my laughter - "... you better learn how to drive it. Here." He hands me my neat little wallet of registration and my license. "I'm letting you off but if I see you go just one mile an hour over the limit, I'll bust you for everything I can."

It's about this time I realized that he probably thought I was speeding because I downshifted and the engine revved. Still - "Built for speed" .. my ass. I am not in a Ferrari. It's a VW Beetle. Seriously, guys like him give decent cops a bad name and explain why I mutter when I see cops. I was not late.

Currently listening : Happy Songs for Happy People By Mogwai

Labels: Beetle, cops, DJ, idiots, Maloney's, road rage, stories, true

The one troublesome thing about having a job that involves creativity - being a DJ or a musician, for example - is that if you aren't excited about it at least on some level, it's almost impossible to do a good job. Most jobs, you can go in one day feeling fairly unenthusiastic about being there but the job can be done.

I, obviously, was not feeling particularly keen on working tonight and so I used one of my old sets (thank God we use MixMeister and I save my sets).

So there's a conundrum: would I want a relatively menial job that I can consistently do well in, or a creative job that I can usually excel in? Well ... I'm not quitting either DJ or design so ..

Currently reading : Confessions of a Master Jewel Thief By Bill Mason

Labels: DJ, Maloney's, mixing, music, work