And I missed the Premiere of the L Word for THIS?!?

Last night I had a very challenging DJ gig. Despite the fact that the event organizers and performers were gracious, talented, and pleasant to work with, a combination of logistics, equipment failure, and genre mismatch made it one of the most humbling gigs I have experienced since playing bass in a goth band to empty venues during my youth.

A hip hop collective I have had fun spontaneously gigging and recording with invited me to DJ at a biker bar in Adams Morgan. Adams Morgan is one of those neighborhoods that gets characterized in out-of-town publications as "edgy" and "hip," but in reality its narrow sidewalks are teeming with drunk frat boys and eurotrash. But who was I to turn down a DC gig on inauguration weekend?

I had agreed to do my usual shtick at this event whereby I sit off to the side and play tracks between live acts to keep the groove going. This has worked really well in the past because I have an eclectic assortment of original material that can serve as a segue between a variety of genres. Since the band coming on was reggae, I cued up some downtempo ALP numbers,only to have one of the organizers inform me that the owner wanted me to play something more "contemporary." I am not sure what this meant, but since I had to listen to ear-splitting cock rock while setting up, I played the closest thing I had on my laptop, Ladytron's "Destroy Everything You Touch." The tastemeister reported back that this was much better, as he wanted something more celebratory for the inauguration--a strange comment considering that I would place that track more squarely in the "veiled reference to Bush" category.

Anyhow, one thing I should have known ahead of time is that some of the rappers would be relying on me to play their backing tracks on CD. If this thought had occurred to me when I was packing my gear I would have brought my professional Numark CD player that is better designed for this purpose. Unfortunately I had to find out the hard way that Windows Media Player does not like to play CDs when my Torque DJ software is open. Although the first rap set went fine, my computer froze when advancing to the second performer's next track, forcing her to skillfully improvise to a human beatbox while I frantically rebooted.

As if things couldn't get much worse, one of the MCs, not realizing that I am painfully shy, asked me over the mic who Arthur is, prompting me to explain how I named my band after my deceased cat's love of plastic grocery bags. (Crazy cat lady in da house!).

I would have to confess that I evaluate rap about as well as I judge wine or acting--I only have an informed opinion if it is bad! But I was really impressed with the caliber of performers and their backing tracks. If I had been better prepared and not in a snit about being told what music to play I would have had a better time, and I thought it was cute how they called me "DJ Bev." At the end of the show, I learned from the soundman that the owner had not even been in the building the entire evening!! The tastemeister was an impostor whose sense of entitlement must have translated into a demeanor of authority.

The trip home was the piece de resistance! Trying to hail a cab out of Adams Morgan was as seemingly impossible as scoring a ticket to the inauguration! Most of the cabs were full, and the empty ones refused to go to Silver Spring. I ended up walking out to 16th Street where I passed on taking an S4 bus to Silver Spring that was more packed than I could have imagined humanly possible. A woman wandering around the bus stop in the bitter cold on crutches who hacked her lungs out while panhandling reminded me that things could be worse. Finally a nice Ethiopian cab driver from a Montgomery County company rescued me.

All in all I am glad I did the show though--it is good at my age to try new things, and having a disastrous gig demonstrates the risk taken when performing live, thereby enhancing the enjoyment of a successful performance. And I was able to watch the first episode of the L Word on YouTube anyways!

I Heart the Daily Mail

One of the most critical feeds on my igoogle page is the Daily Mail TV&Showbiz section. It helps me keep tabs on Britney's career comeback, Lindsay Lohan's lesbian relationship, and Jodi Foster's domestic drama much better than any stateside tabloid. The delusional Heather Mills, Paul McCartney's ex-wife, is the gift that keeps on giving, what with sexual harassment suits by former nannies and drastic hairstyle changes. The Daily Mail has also been providing consistently disturbing coverage of Amy Winehouse's "rehab" at an exclusive St. Lucian resort. Today's installment features her drunkenly hitting on a woman (something I would never do!!). According to the woman's boyfriend:

'She kept trying to take pictures of my girlfriend in an indecent position on the trapeze. She kept calling her 'Babe' and saying: "You’re stunning, I love you."'

There is also a whole other parallel universe of UK celebrities to explore--primarily WAGs (wives and girlfriends of soccer players), reality TV show contestants, and party girls who engage in restroom brawls and drunken nights out. Check out the RSS feed to get the latest!

Mama Mia!!

Thanks to an article at Velvet Park, I learned that the Italian version of Spain's Hospital Central has been translated on YouTube. Although the Italian version mirrors the Spanish series with the pairing of beautiful, no-nonsense pediatrician Marina with sexy head nurse Esther, the series does reflect the less "tolerant" attitude towards homosexuality in Italy compared to Spain. Also there is more yelling! Although the now-legendary elevator kiss that starts at 5 minutes into the clip needs no translation, seeing the romance trajectory translated made the scene more meaningful. Grazie user unikyou on YouTube!!

Steve & Barry's R.I.P.

Between Marshall's, Burlington Coat Factory, and "Fashion One" I buy 90% of my clothes at the mall near "Silver Sprung" that yuppies pejoratively refer to as "Sh*tty Place." I am typically the only blue-eyed person in the building. To my dismay last week I learned that the Steve & Barry's downstairs is closing. I stopped by this evening to check out their liquidation sale. All that remained on the shelves of the store where I had gleefully purchased Sarah Jessica Parker "Bitten" slacks and Venus Williams "Eleven" active-wear for $8.98 per item were some childrens clothes, jeans for the morbidly obese, and winter hats mischievously emblazoned with the term "Angel". I will miss browsing their massive selection of frat-boyish alcohol and sex-themed t-shirts of the "I am not as think as you drunk I am" variety--the largest collection of its kind this side of Ocean City. Steve & Barry's, you will be missed!!

Pepsi: My New Obsession

No, I have not started drinking soda! Pepsi is the moniker for the hot lesbian couple in the Spanish evening soap opera "Los Hombres de Paco" (Paco's Men). Pepa is a gorgeous, slightly tomboyish lesbian police officer who was ostracized from her family after kissing her brother's wife's sister Silvia at a wedding. Several years later she joins her brother's police squad in Madrid where the adorable redhead Silvia is the forensics investigator. They end up falling in love. The scene in which Silvia consummates their relationship in Pepa's bathroom at 2am is exquisitely romantic.

Silvia initially is conflicted about being in her first relationship with a woman, but grows more comfortable with the concept as family and coworkers show they are supportive of the couple. A benevolent YouTuber has posted the scenes chronicling their relationship with subtitles here--though the best scenes need no translation. The next season resumes in January. There were upsetting rumors that Pepa sleeps with a guy next season, but apparently this is only for purposes of procreation. Phew!