Archive for January 2012

A Letter To Seal

January 28, 2012

Dear Seal,

On the Internet and in the newspaper, I noticed the headlines concerning your marriage problems. Yet, I ignored reading the articles. That type of stuff just don’t interest me.

Seal and Heidi Klum

Yesterday, at the supermarket, your problems caught my attention again.  In the checkout line, I saw two magazines demonizing you, one labeling you a bullying husband and the other labeling you a cheater.

True or not, may I give you some advice, brother? During and after the divorce, keep a low profile. No need defending yourself because some folks’ minds are already made up about you. Whatever you say, some just won’t believe you. Besides, why try impressing folks who may have never liked you in the first place?

I know what the deal is. You may know it too. You married a beautiful white woman.  Not just any white woman, a BEAUTIFUL one. Damn, bro, she’s a supermodel even.  Now, that’s game. Just like with a black President, some folks just can’t stand it.

For all we know, Heidi Klum could be a bitch. Yet, the media chose to jump on you. Why? You married that beautiful white woman. The way some folks see it, Heidi wasn’t supposed to marry you. She was supposed to marry a rock guy, one of those dudes who couldn’t get laid if he wasn’t a rock star. Yet, Heidi chose you.

Your situation reminds me of a white woman I got rid of ten years ago. As her friends demonized me as the next OJ, what they didn’t see was a manipulator who wouldn’t leave me alone. After making it known I wished for her to stay out of my life (and I even threatened to kick her ass), this woman still came to poetry readings I hosted. Plus when we dated, she kept quiet about other dudes she dated. What finally got rid of her? Catching her red-handed in a lie. And no, I never raised a hand to that woman.

Keep your head up, Seal. Some of us got your back,

Yours truly,
DJ Stone Crazy

Ladies Night: Portishead Verus Chingy

January 25, 2012

As you can see in the following pic, women predominated last night’s DJ gig at Little Fish-Huge Pond.

Every Tuesday as I spin chill music, drink specials are held for the ladies.

As I enjoyed the night, a mild conflict over music started.  In the past, I played chill music all night.  Yet, that shit got boring. I can tolerate Portishead and jazz-influenced, instrumental, funk for only about two hours.  After that, I prefer playing dance music including hip hop.  After my chill set, I did just that, began playing dance music.  As one group of young ladies requested Chingy and Dev, another woman preferred me to continue playing Porishead.


As I tried mixing  all the requests, Portishead Woman still got upset.  What finally got her goat was me fulfilling a dubstep request.

“I love you,” she started. “But please don’t play any more dubstep.”

Seeing the carrying on over  dubstep inspires me to keep playing it, just because I know it pisses some folks off. It’s like playing BG’s Bling-Bling because the song pisses off hip hop purists.  You know the type, always saying what’s real hip hop and what isn’t.

Yet, I didn’t play anymore dubstep that night. Truth be known, I can only tolerate one or two dubstep songs at a time.

As the mild music conflict happened, a Republican white woman was in our midst.  On the big, flat screen, television located behind the bar, President Obama had just finished his Union Address, one that made me glad I voted for him.

I couldn’t hear exactly what Moire, the bar’s owner, said. Yet, it rubbed Republican Woman the wrong way. Immediately she made it known what party she supported.

As I continued playing music, Republican Woman kept complimenting my music choices.  I wasn’t surprised. For some damned reason, I always attract Republican white women. And I don’t even approach them. They usually approach me.

Also, I noticed Republican Woman looked like a recently, deceased friend. A nasty chill ran over me. My deceased friend definitely wasn’t a Republican.

At another place, I witnessed a ladies night backfiring. Most of the women preferred clit over dick. As  lesbians do attend my nights, they never predominated.

I’m looking forward to next week.  Who knows.  Maybe, dudes will predominate. As long as folks are having a good time, I really don’t give a shit.

Douchebag Night

January 23, 2012

Last Thursday, I played my first DJ gig at SIP Orlando.  I ain’t going to front.  The event did not attract many people, something I blame myself for. Even when two Saturday openings were available, I still chose Thursday. Why?  Due to  past experiences, I always saw Friday and Saturday nights in Orlando as douchebag night.

Unlike my Sanford gig, Orlando Friday and Saturday nights tend to attract folks who enjoy bossing the DJ around.  Then again, it may have been the spot itself attracting those types versus Orlando being the actual problem.  Also, let me point out, most Orlando people behaved nicely during my gigs. I just happened to see more douchebags in Orlando versus Sanford. Yet again, it could be Orlando being bigger than small town Sanford, meaning a higher population.  The higher the population, the more likely you’ll run across douchebags.

At SIP, I played mostly eighties RnB, music intended as opening tunes.  The folks who did show up loved it.  After about two hours, I played eighties hip hop.  That didn’t go over well.  After five songs, someone requested Let The Music Play by  Shannon, and that song lit up the place. Some folks sung the lyrics. After Shannon, I played Madonna’s Into The Groove. People sung to that also.

Impressed with my mix, the two bartenders working that night promised to help promote my next gig, February 4.  And that gig happens on a Saturday.

Here’s some pics.

Local bowling team: The Harlem Bowltrotters.

Michael: My first time meeting the guy.

He twittered his friends about my mix.  He really loved it when I played The Rain by Oran “Juice” Jones. By the way, what the fuck happened to the Juice? I hadn’t seen that guy in years.

Keith Gregson: I’ve known this Irishman since the 90s. Because he reads my blogs, I of course had to include him in this one.

Franklin Rice Ratliff: An artist I’ve also known since the 90s.  At almost every art event, you would see Franklin attending.

Speaking of art, after a scheduled appearance for this event, a local artist didn’t show up.

The guy on the right is Midtown Dave, the first DJ I witnessed successfully mixing with a laptop.  Years later, I wound up doing a night with him and another DJ.

After this night, I got an e-mail from whomever is handling SIP’s Facebook page.   The message told me the two bartenders begged for me to come back.

Like I said earlier, I was granted another night, a douchebag night I’m looking forward too.