Winslow, Arizona. That was then, this is now.

"Standing on a corner in Winslow Arizona.  Such a fine sight to see!  It's a girl my Lord, in a flat-bed Ford, slowin' down to take a look at me."  ~Jackson Browne and Glenn Frey

In my travels, and professional and personal interactions with people throughout my life, when the topic of my early years in Winslow comes up, there's almost always a reference to the Eagles song.  It's just our humanity trying to connect and find commonality.  I don't particularly tire of it.  I do resist the temptation myself when meeting somebody from a place immortalized in song or named after a classic rock song- "Hi, my name is Rhiannon"  "Oh, like the Fleetwood Mac song..." or "Hi, my name is Lorelei."  "Oh like the Styx song..." I try to ask something that they haven't probably heard before to engage them and ignore the obvious.  I always entertain the Winslow/Eagles conversations that follow, with their insights and connections, but I haven't heard anybody say anything new on the subject for almost 3 decades now.  It's not clear if songwriter Jackson Browne or Glenn Frey of the Eagles ever really stood there at any time, (probably not) but after this long, they owe me personally all other Winslow citizens past and present a proper Eagles concert. 

I paid a visit to Winslow, my hometown, this weekend. Somebody from High School connected with me on Facebook a couple of years ago and then about 8 months ago, I got a call that she always loves to see my professional DJ adventures on Facebook and that she sees that my customers seem to love me and I seem to have some technical expertise as an entertainer and that it's clear that I also love what I do and that her daughter was getting married and (deep breath) would I come to Winslow and play for the wedding?
 

Let me declare at the outset that this will be the longest post in the history of the world. It's heavy on the pictures too. I often think that some people must live their whole lives through the viewfinder on their camera. I try to keep that in check in the age of camera phones and social media and I even lean towards less pictures. My memory of people and places is so much more three-dimensional and emotional and "other-sensory" than pictures can capture in any case. Pictures of my dad don't smell like "Old Spice" cologne... This topic required a lot of pictures for me.  I travelled up a day early and you should know that in taking all of these pictures, I actually stopped down and had two moments at each place- one through the viewfinder, and then the other with my eyes, ears, nose, skin, taste buds, mind and heart. 

Further, for my Christian friends and family and other conservative types, this posting will be rather candid. Not profane at all, but just raw and uncensored. You'll learn some things about me you didn't know before and it may be shocking.  I've left out names but even if you think you see yourself, just know that I love you for the lessons I learned from you. 

In English, we would say,"I'm from Winslow." In Spanish, that would be expressed more like, "The place where I spent my primary years is Winslow" I think that's actually rather profound since my primary years in Winslow made really did make me who I am- for better or for worse.  As I am maturing as a man, I'm mellowing and finding myself hugging people hello more often and allowing people their humanity in a more loving way, I look back and see that so much of the good and bad that is in me started being good or bad IN Winslow Arizona.  Of late, I'm just trying to enhance the good and throw as much of the bad over the edge that I can.

Arizona is such a beautiful state!  My experience in the Boy Scouts of America and being the son of fellow outdoor lover, Vance Whipple, gave me a great love for this place and I have spent still more time and miles hiking, mountain biking and driving around exploring it.  Most people who drive through Arizona may do so on Interstate 10, The Christopher Columbus Transcontinental Highway, through the low desert, or on Interstate 40, largely through the high desert country and they miss the center of the state which is high-elevation, mountainous forest country.  It's a nice and green drive to Winslow from the Phoenix area through national forest lands.

Winslow was originally settled by Mormon colonists sent specifically by Brigham Young to farm in the Little Colorado River Valley.  They had fled the  United States because of religious persecution and settled in Salt Lake- in Mexico.  They were sent to the Little Colorado Valley from Salt Lake by a rather solemn (among Mormons) assignment but they returned to Utah after one season and called it a God-forsaken wilderness and the journals recorded that Brigham Young 'thundered' at them to get back down there and settle and farm in that valley.  The community was called "Brigham City" but when the Santa Fe railroad came through 3 or 4 miles south a few years later, Brigham City died as Winslow was born and named after a railroad executive at the time.  Currently, a Winslow resident/citizen is driving to refurbish and preserve the remains of that original Mormon settlement.


I snapped this pic out the window of the van of the high desert terrain up there. 

I imagine a cowboy on horseback or some settlers with wagon loads of supplies would be completely flummoxed by a canyon such as Jack's Canyon (below) outside of Winslow that runs for several miles in either direction and that is undetectable on the horizon until you get right on top of it.  There are stories of Mormon Pioneers who had to spend several days disassembling wagons and moving them across such things and reassembling them on the other side or using complicated winch systems to lower larger pieces down and then hoisting them back up the other side.  The other option was to send a scout several miles in either direction to find a more suitable crossing.  Ether way, a simple geological feature of the landscape such as this would take several days to conquer.  I drove over a bridge and it took probably 1 1/2 seconds at 65 MPH and my cold air conditioning and cold drink were sure nice.  

The rest of these pictures are in no particular order but they will be the thread to guide you through my thoughts. 

Here we go!

This is the La Posada Hotel and train depot.  It was the La Posada when it was built.  It closed and the Santa Fe Railroad used it for offices in the 70s and 80s and then they abandoned it.  It was to be torn down but some preservationists and other historians arranged to have it restored and it operates as the La Posada Hotel again and caters to Route 66 enthusiasts and other travellers to Winslow. There are over 100 freight trains daily travelling through Winslow and two Amtrak stops daily- an eastbound and a westbound. 

My grandfather loved Navajo and Hopi culture and sold sewing machines on the Navajo Reservation in the 1940s and by the 1950s, his endeavors had become a dress shop in Winslow, which is a border town, of sorts, to the Navajo Nation. In the 1960s the shop was becoming a department store.  He was also the Mayor of Winslow from 1950 to 1953.  He resigned 2 months shy of his term of office, surprising the city council with his announcement that cited health concerns and pressures of running the growing Whipple's store.  I'm unaware of what, if any, health issues he had.  He lived another 25 years. 

I was born in Burlingame California- in the bay area.  My dad brought us to Winslow to join his father's business "Whipple's of Winslow", when I was about 3.  My mother was already very sick and she died of cancer in Winslow that year and her grave is there.  We kinda regrouped as a family in Winslow and that's the story of how I came to call Winslow "home". 

 

My maternal grandmother took care of me most immediately after the funeral but everybody had to get back to their lives and so I had a nanny during the day- an African-American woman named Ruby Williams (Jackson) from Roxie Mississippi that taught me how to count, got me potty trained, taught me the alphabet and she took me fishing for catfish in Clear Creek south of town about 5 miles with her boyfriend RJ when he got off work at the sawmill in the afternoons- and she loved me. I saw Ruby last year, but she wasn't around this time.  I would have liked to give her another hug. This was the house we lived in at first.

My dad remarried when I was about 7.  We had a "Brady Bunch" family with 9 kids and we moved to this house on Gilmore St.  Boys downstairs and girls upstairs.  

This is where I went to Sunday School as a little boy.  They had a basement with a cozy fireplace for the kids program.  Somebody has since purchased it and is using it as a home.  Probably the biggest home in town.  In my life's travels, a rather random personal contact, upon hearing that I was from Winslow, handed me a program from the dedication service of this building in the early 50s, which I still have in my possession. They also handed me a yearbook from Winslow High School dated 1928, which I think was the first graduating class from the new building which you'll see here later.  They were not from Winslow or even Arizona and didn't remember how those two things came into their possession but they were happy to pass it on to me.   

This is where I went to church from about age 9 and up.  I broke my left arm on that grass out front, goofing off after a Boy Scout activity at age 13.  I got tackled and my arm got tucked under the weight of my body and the weight of a couple of other boys and it cracked both the radius and the ulna about halfway through and then split them upwards toward my elbow as if they were green tree branches.  It ended my violin career (thankfully) (violin players in Winslow High School were not cool and I lacked in any other coolness factors anyway- the violin wasn't helping)  Even after 35 years the injury impedes any proficiency on the guitar.  

This is Highway 87 that runs north from Winslow to the Navajo Nation and south from Winslow to Payson, Mesa and Tucson.  I don't know why, but when we were kids, Dad would always honk the horn going through this tunnel under the Santa Fe railroad.  All of the kids would scream at the top of our lungs.  Who am I to mess with tradition?  I honked and shouted in 2012 at age 46.    

When I was in high school, this was Leemon's Appliances which happened to also have a small selection of vinyl records and 8-track tapes. I'm happy to report that I was the first kid in Winslow Arizona to own Styx's Cornerstone album.  My step mother worked at Leemon's for a couple of years while I was in high school.  I would go down once a week or so after school and study the Billboard magazine and make recommendations based on what I saw on the music charts as to what she should purchase for the store that could be sold.  I remember exclaiming once- "Ahhh!  Van Halen has a new album coming out next week."  She replied "Oh, is he good?"  ummmmmm  "Yeah mom, he's really good. I'd say 4 or 5 copies of that one."  I'm not even going to explain why that's so funny.  Van Morrison is pretty good too.  I still play some of his good stuff as a DJ.  It appears to be a Tuxedo rental place now. Winslow is just not a tuxedo kind of a town. I wish them success in this tough economy, but I fear it will be an uphill battle.

This used to be "Whipple Park" named after my Grampa Whipple, probably in honor of his service as Mayor. It used to have some playgound equipment and picnic tables and barbecue pits.  It appears to be something that the firefighters use to practice their skills now.  There's big pile of wooden pallets behind the building that further make my case for my suspicion as to its purpose.  

There was an artist in the 70s that supposedly went to each state and carved something like this to honor each states' place in the republic on the occasion of the bicentennial.  I don't know why Winslow was chosen for the Arizona installation but I have always liked what the guy did.  He spent about a week on this with a chainsaw.  I rode my bike out to watch him a few times. It was located out by I-40 originally on a big mound of dirt but it always looked out of place and not as grand as its intent.  The city has moved it to the south end of town near some of the Route 66 tourist stuff and it looks more at home now.    

I had a great Sunday School teacher when I was 12 and 13 who lived right here.  She gave me a great love for the Bible and gave me a working knowledge of the Gospel of Jesus Christ which built the foundation for my relationship with Him now.  She was a lover of people and of learning and of teaching and a true model of what Christianity should be.  It wasn't just dry talking- trying to get through the lesson, she was trying to get the lesson through us.  In addition to bringing the scriptures to life, she introduced me to books by Zig Zigler and others who seemed to know how to apply Christian principles to life and find success and happiness.  I've thanked her personally on multiple occasions.  

This was and is the post office in Winslow AZ- 86047.  I don't have anything to say about this other than the fact that the ZIP code has stuck in my memory for all of these years.  I also remember my phone number back then.  It was 289-4884 but you only had to dial the 9 and the 4 digits.  I've lived at four addresses in the LA area, two addresses in north central Washington state, two addresses in Minneapolis and one in St Paul and I can't remember any of those ZIP codes.  I've had several phone numbers over the years and I can't remember any of those either. 

This store front used to be the office and printing shop for "The Reminder" a throwaway advertising rag that came out on Monday, Tuesday and Thursday nights.  When I was 9 years old, I started delivering to 125 homes on Apache Avenue.  We'd pick them up around 7 or 8PM (some nights as late as 10PM if they were extra busy or had extra pages from lots of ads or had a printer break down)  We would get paid a fractional percentage per page- it came to $5 or $6/wk and also on Tuesday nights it would be "Nickel Night".  We would knock on doors for tips instead of just leaving the papers on the doorstep.  When the homeowner opened the door, we would say "Nickel Night" and get a nickel.  If everybody on your route was home, and answered the door and gave a gratuity, it would add up to another $6. Most of us delivery boys got smart and realized that the term "Nickel Night" limited the tip to a nickel.  The term "Reminder Night" was much more open ended and a conscientious delivery boy who always got the papers right on the porch or tucked under the mat could get a quarter or even two quarters.     

When I was 11, I added The Winslow Mail- a more traditional local weekly newspaper on Thursday afternoons.  I think my route had about 150 homes on it.  I got paid strictly by the paper from subscriptions but it was not uncommon to get $5, $10 or even a $20 in a card for Christmas if you got the paper on the porch consistently.  Notice that both buildings are vacant.  They still kinda exist loosely in an online format, but the Winslow Mail folded in 2008.  Although it is closed, it is still the longest running and oldest newspaper in Arizona.  The mighty Arizona Republic still has 4 years to go to catch up and beat them. 

When I was 13, I added the Arizona Republic to my deliveries.  7 days a week, 365 days a year, 165 homes, rain or shine or sleet or snow, at 430AM.  The papers would be flown in to Winslow airport at about 330 each morning and then dropped at several neighborhood drop spots for local carriers.  This was my Uncle Tom's house and my cousins Tommy, Rory and Burke.  About 6 boys knelt in this driveway every morning, folding and slipping a rubber band on to each paper.  We had canvas bags that fit on the handlebars of our bikes and with some practice, you could really learn how to make those papers fly and land just where you want them.  I have a defective sports gene and I'm rather clumsy when it comes to basketballs and baseballs, but I had a knack for flinging a newspaper.  More often than not, I could get it not only on the doorstep but leaning up against the door so that when the homeowner opened, the paper would fall inside their house! 

I was invited to the wedding rehearsal dinner for the family that I went to Winslow to work for this week and I had the pleasure of sitting with the grandmother of the groom.  She's 84 and sharp as a tack.  When she oriented herself as to who I was (by identifying my father and grandfather) she was most complimentary about our family's contribution to Winslow and further, she said that I had been her paper boy and that, after me, she has never again had decent delivery service.  That's a lot of years to suffer with crappy service and still bother with the paper that could be had in an online format.

Here's a pic of the Little League fields.  I never played baseball owing to my defective sports gene but I always hung around with the other townsfolk for a game in the evening.  They had a concession stand that had snow cones and a newfangled snack at the time called "nachos" and it was deeeeee-LISH!  There was a masonry block restroom that may be the most disgusting bathroom I've ever encountered in my 46 years.  That one still holds a place in disgustingdom.  I'm a man and half the time, I don't have to sit down to do my business but it was really that bad.  The option was to ride my bicycle 5 blocks home and go and then 5 blocks back but I might have missed some of the action.

I was riding on a swing set adjacent to the ball park (near the offending restroom) at about age 8 or 9 and I took a high-speed and high arching foul ball right in the lower gut on an upswing- my body was positioned just right to get hit squarely and solidly.  It knocked me off the swing which landed me flat on my back on the ground and stunned my diaphragm (knocked the wind out of me) so that I couldn't breathe for a minute or so.
 

That park also represented the first time I saw pornography of any kind as a little boy.  There were some discarded playing cards with nude women in various poses. I was innocent and not ready for that and certainly didn't seek it out, but it was as if I had been exposed to a virus.  There was a time later in my life when pornography would dominate life and my thinking.  I've often thought of the story in the New Testament where some men were trying to get under Jesus' skin by asking, "Who did sin?  this man or his parents?  that he was born blind even from his birth?"  Jesus replied, "Nobody sinned, he was just born blind.  That's all.  It just IS.  He was born blind so that a miracle of God could be manifest in his life."  (I'm paraphrasing there- Jesus was always very frank but not that casual.) The chance exposure to porn was not a sin that I committed, but it was just a circumstance in my life.  A circumstance such, that a miracle of God could be manifest as I broke free.  Frankly, I give gratitude to God for it because without it, I may have never come to know the gift of the Atonement of Jesus Christ in such a profound and personal way.
  

Here's what used to be the Rialto Theater.  One family owned both this movie theater and the local drive-in theater.  They would show one movie per week, drive in open during the summer months, indoor theater open during the winter months.  I don't know if you are picking up a pattern here, The Reminder- gone, Winslow Mail- gone, the Rialto- gone...  I can't remember any specific films that I saw here, I vaguely remember "War of the Worlds" but I do know that I saw Jaws at the drive-in theater when I was 8.  I think I was asleep and my head was on my step mom's lap.  I woke up just at the scene where the shark is on the back of the boat tipping it upwards and the crusty old fisherman/sailor slides down into its mouth to be chewed to death.  Not a good time to wake up as an 8 yr old.  That movie so frightened me that I STILL- 38 years later- I STILL am frightened of water.  I'm not non functional, but I do freak out once in awhile in the ocean and in even in lakes and rivers.  Well-played Spielberg, well-played indeed! 

Here's a couple of pictures of Clear Creek out south of town- previously described catfishing expeditions happened here.  Great swimming hole for high school kids.  I was a bit of a nerd in high school but I had just enough moxie to be able to hang here at times.  It was always great for jumping off rocks and barbecuing and for others- drinking and carousing with the opposite sex, speeding and other dangerous driving on the road to and from and perhaps a few other unnamed nefarious activities for teenagers. 

I saw my first, real, live breast here.  A girl had jumped in the water and it popped the top of her swim suit off and she was jumping around and still playing in the water unawares that she had been exposed.  A girlfriend alerted her a bit too soon for the boys' taste.  My only regret, at age 14, was that it was THAT (unnamed) girl that was a bit homely and not a model of female beauty and physicality.  Why couldn't it have been that other (also unnamed) girl that I liked who occupied my teenage dreams or that other (unnamed) one on the cheerleading squad?  But alas, for a 14 yr old boy, it was a bit of a landmark moment.

This is Jefferson Elementary school.  Mrs. Walton for Kindergarten- loved her.  Mrs. Allen for 1st grade.  Mrs. Murray for 2nd grade- hated her.  I remember getting my knuckles whacked with a ruler on more than one occasion for seemingly minor infractions.  I also remember this insight at age 7:  it was a warm spring morning and we were doing a rather menial exercise that I had already advanced beyond.  Mrs. Murray had handed out a worksheet and I remember lifting the top edge of the sheet up and acting like I was reading it but all the while I was scanning my classmates in disbelief, "Is this it?  THIS is school for THE NEXT 10 YEARS?!?!"  Mrs. Murray had a heart attack that summer and passed away.  I was secretly glad.  I hadn't wished it on her but she had clearly passed her effectiveness as a teacher.  She was cranky and she didn't inspire us to learn.  Looking back as a man, I was right.  Only a handful of teachers ever challenged me intellectually.  That sounds arrogant or cocky for me to speak it, but it comes from a place of confidence in saying such a thing, plus, it's my blog.

Mrs. Ceballos for 3rd grade. Miss Orr for 4th grade. Mr McNeil for 5th grade- loved/hated him.  He was a bit of a leftover hippie and, looking back as an adult, he was probably a marijuana user- just a hunch.  We'd sing folk songs with his guitar for a few minutes each morning...  Crosby, Stills and Nash, The Hollies, Joan Baez, etc.  He had a small farm just on the outskirts of the city and there were a couple of lambs born one night and we all took a walk the next morning, after the song time, about a mile out to his house to see the new life.  No permission slips, just going and learning about the world.  Try doing that today!  Lawyers would have a conniption fit! 

I was competing in a 5th grade spelling bee and I know spelling pretty well.  Even in 5th grade, I had a very good grasp on the English language.  My word was "balcony."  Mr McNeil pronounced it as "belcony."  I had him repeat it twice, per the rules, and each time, he repeated "belcony."  I fought my instinct that he was wrong and resigned myself to the thought that that maybe there was a word that I didn't know.  I spelled it B E L C O N Y and was eliminated.  I've always remembered that and have always regretted not trusting my instincts and I curse him for possibly altering the course of my life!  If I had just won that spelling bee, my whole life would have been different. 

I had Mr. Cardon for 6th grade and didn't love or hate him.  When it came time for the 6th grade boys to field a basketball team to represent our school he indicated that all the boys would be playing.  In spite of my defective sports gene, I dutifully ran up and down the court trying to not ever come into contact with the ball.  In spite of my negative contribution, our team went on to compete against other local teams and when we got to the pinnacle of our success, leading up to an important game, Mr. Cardon had the nerve to instruct the team not to throw the ball to me because I was a butterfingers.  I took great offense!  I would have been happy to sit on the bench and read a book. You force me to be on the team and then complain about my abilities that you knew about going in?!??


This is Washington Elementary.  I didn't attend there but this place was built when I was in high school to replace an older version of itself, if I remember correctly.  I'm not sure why, but this picture made me remember a bully I had in my life.  I had been teased regularly and assaulted more than a dozen times over the course of the years that I had to cross paths with him.  I've had a hard time searching my memory, I'm not sure if he moved away by high school or not, but when I put up this picture of the dome, I remembered hearing that he (the bully), was playing around on a construction site during the night- perhaps this one- or perhaps on a construction site in the place he had moved to (I really don't remember) and he fell to his death. (Post script- a reader indicated that there was, in fact, a death on this construction site and named him to me.  He was not the bully. Chalk that up to a couple of stories combined in my memory.)

This was and is Winslow Junior High.  My short-lived violin career reached its peak here.  Our orchestra travelled to a couple of neighboring cities for festival competitions and we scored "A"s at every stop.  I've forgotten the music directors name but she was passionate about music and it was a pleasure to perform with her at the helm.  Also had a great Science teacher in Mr. Essary and a great Industrial Arts (shop class) with Mr. Gonzalez. 

This was Winslow High School.  This was built in 1925.  It's boarded up now while the rest of the campus seems intact.  I'm not sure what other purpose it could serve but as a school.

Here's the new main building about a block away.  Very POSH!

This used to be the tennis courts.  That's the gymnasium and the weight training center across the way there.  When we played tennis as part of the P.E. curriculum, I could never and still can't get the hang of how to score a tennis match.  I think my first paying DJ job took place in that gymnasium.  I had no idea that it would become a career, so record keeping in those first few years is practically nonexistent.  One of the school clubs was having a fundraiser dance and sent a couple of cheerleaders to ask me nicely to do the dance for cheap- maybe a plate of cookies.  I didn't need a plate of cookies but who could resist the attention of a couple of cheerleaders when you are 16 years old?  If any customers are reading this and think that such tactics will still work... OK, go ahead and send some cheerleaders... I''ve always been fond of the Laker Girls-just so you know. 

This was and is the Winslow High School football stadium.  It's been renamed Emil Nasser Stadium after a beloved coach and P.E. teacher who made 98 lb weaklings like me into men.  He was a good and decent Egyptian man who expected excellence and taught people the skills to get there.  (Post script- a reader indicated to me that Coach Nasser may have been a Syrian man.  He could have been from Antarctica but that doesn't change that he was a good man.)

This was and is still the racquetball courts. I don't have anything to say about this.

The indoor swimming pool.  Nothing to say about this either.

This was the Business Education building as part of the high school campus.  I learned to type in there.  Remember what I was saying about my realization in 2nd grade about not being challenged?  I wouldn't call my typing teacher a challenging instructor, but what a blessing it has been to know how to type quickly and accurately when the world has since gone the way of computers.  Looking back, it was my English teacher, Mr. Howell, who gave me a love for the English language and the gift of communication in both speaking and writing and how beautiful it can be. I had him as a freshman and hated him (but still learned) I had him again as a senior and loved LOVED him.  He challenged me and I rose to the occasion.  Wood shop, metal shop, auto shop, mechanical drawing/drafting and typing, along with music and English were the things that have blessed my life.  Sadly, I came out of high school ill-prepared for life in so many other ways.  I didn't know what insurance was, I didn't know how to balance a checkbook, etc.  I wasn't until 25 years later that I had a brilliant instructor at University of Phoenix here at the Mesa campus that I 'got' Algebra.

Here's the Root Beer Stand.  I had my paper routes until I was almost 15 and then I started working here through the rest of my high school years.  This was my first wage-earning job.  I would get out of class at 11:55 and run down there and work through lunch,  then at 12:50, the boss would cook up something for me, I'd alternate between a nice cheeseburger or a taco tangle or a deep fried burrito and eat it on the walk back to school two blocks away.  I'd be back at 1:00.  School would let out at 3P and I'd work again until they closed at 8P.  We'd mop the floors and get the place cleaned up and ready for the next day and be out of there at about 830. It was called the A&W Root Beer Stand back then.  It's called Darrell's Root Beer Stand now, even though Darrell isn't there anymore.  His son Roland runs the place and Roland's young son is running around helping out just like Roland did when he was a boy and I was working there.  I had a Taco Tangle this week and a helping of chili fries with cheese and a couple of large root beers.  They haven't changed the chili recipe in all these years.  I went right back to my youth when I tasted it.  I've posted on my Facebook page a few things about Winslow on occasion and the commentary almost always mentions the Root Beer stand.  If they ever changed the recipe, I'm confident that it would blow a gigantic hole in the space/time continuum.

My Junior Prom was here.  This is Bonnie Brennan Elementary School and this gymnasium was brand spanking new at the time.  Owing to my nerdiness in high school, I hadn't intended to go to the prom but I thought that if I didn't, it would further prove my nerdiness so I asked a girl that I knew that would say yes even though I didnt' want to go.  I had a miserable time because I didn't want to be there.  I think I've got a photo buried somewhere that proves that I was miserable.

Here's a pic of the Elks Lodge in Winslow.  My Senior Prom was held here.  I'm a fast learner and I thought that I would have a better time at my Senior Prom if I had the hottest girl in the place, even though I didn't want to go.  I asked a girl from the next town that I had met at a church activity.  She would be an unknown and mysterious date, she was very good looking, and since she lived in the next town- she was unaware of my nerdiness.  I arrived here at the Elks lodge and my arrival had the desired effect, she dropped some jaws, but she also undermined my self-confidence in every other way and I had a miserable time.  I was even on a DOUBLE date to take the pressure off, but dating was not my gift and it would not become something that I was any good at for a number of years. 

Here's what I did at the Elks Lodge for this wedding I was hired to play for.  It was sure good to come back to my home town with the professional guns blazing.  There were lots of people who even seemed intimidated by me.  They wanted to say hello but felt the need to ask somebody else to ask me... that's so high school! 

My first rock band was kinda born inside this house.  It was me with an electric piano and a friend with an electric guitar and we played for several weeks just getting some bugs worked out. 

We added another guitarist and a bass player and there was a kid in our school who had some drums and lived in this house which is now a bed and breakfast.  We kinda auditioned him because he had a cool drum set and his parents seemed supportive and they had money.  It wasn't a good fit. Plus, the house creeped me out.  I think it was and still is haunted.  My cousin Tommy eventually filled the slot on drums for a summer that got us up and running.  Of the 6 people that eventually played in that rock band, 4 are still employed professionally in music.  2 performing and 2 in behind-the-scenes technical areas.  The one guy that I would have thought would still be in music, the one with the most guitar talent and natural good looks and great hair is a dry waller.  He has 10 kids!

Vargas field where the high school varsity baseball team plays and I think the men's city league plays here as well. 

There's a geological formation about 4 miles northwest of town called Monkey Rock.  I don't know why it's called Monkey Rock other than the fact that people go out there to monkey around. I don't and never have used alcohol, but I know that, of my Winslow contemporaries who do, they probably had their first beer out here. 

I stopped for fuel at this Shell station.  I-40 came through Winslow in the mid 70s and just like in the Pixar film "Cars" it decimated the local economy.  Nobody had to stop on Route 66 anymore.  This was one of the first business to move out to service the freeway traffic.  One of the largest drug busts in Arizona history took place right here.  An alert Winslow police officer saw a wanted man getting fuel and affected an arrest.  Sadly, that officer was later shamed for taking prisoners home to do his yard work or even soliciting sexual favors from young female traffic offenders.  I heard he served 15 years in prison. 

I think that the last time I bought fuel there, the price was less than $1!

Safeway was one of the tenants of a strip mall that opened up to service the freeway traffic on the north end of town.  It's still there.

If you turn the camera left, you'd see this.  The Whipple's store also moved from Route 66 to this new mall.  It occupied the Family Dollar and the vacant space next to it. The space in the corner further to the left was the corporate office.  The last time I was in Winslow a couple of years ago, the railroad had offices in the vacant space that is now for lease.  My career in entertainment was kinda born in this parking lot at a big retail promotion. 

This Circle K store was at the end of my Reminder paper route and I pissed away huge amounts of my earned money on candy and comic books from here.  That candy wreaked havoc on my teeth and I just spent $2900 on dental work earlier this year to finally deal with the last of the fall-out from that stupidity.

This Subway sandwich shop used to be home to a video arcade.  Any monies not claimed by the Circle K were wasted here.  I mentioned addictive tendencies earlier- looking back with some maturity, I was addicted to those early video games too.  Video games have come a long way since Pong, but at their core, they can still be addictive waste of money to a teenager. If I had saved $2000/yr from my paper routes, mowing neighborhood lawns in the summer, and my money from the Root Beer Stand, I would have never had to save again!

This place is still a barber shop.  It has been since the 60s I think.  It was the Smith Brothers when I was a kid.  Two old-school barbers that would shave men's faces with a hot towel and a straight edge razor and they'd stretch your skin out and do it so well that you wouldn't have to shave again for three days.  (I wasn't yet shaving)  I think hair cuts were about $2 or $3.  They did one style of haircut and everybody in town got the same one. 

This was part of the National Guard Armory out by the airport when I was a kid.  It's a broken down hangar now and it looks like the Forest Service is using it to store junk parts for fire fighting aircraft.  Several windows are broken out so I don't think it's anything important going on in there.  The airport is now named "Winslow-Lindbergh" after Charles Lindbergh who designed it.  When it was built, and for several decades, it was the only all-weather airport between Albuquerque and Los Angeles. 

My first kiss was in this house.  It was a dance party for about 15-20 teenagers when I was 15 or so.  We had 7 of those 45rpm 7" single records that we played over and over in a rotation and it seemed to work.  One of them was Commodores "Sail on" which I still play sometimes in my piano set.  I was dancing with a girl that I had the warmies for and we turned our heads in for a kiss and I'm not sure I even got her lips but when you are 15, it still counts.  I have 35,000 songs on my DJ hard-drive now. The question is, do I have the right 90 songs for THIS event?

Here are a couple of shots of the older Whipple's of Winslow store on Route 66.  The sign is still there but I don't think there have been any panels in it for years and years.  The panel in the middle with the male and female icons doing some shopping have a very 60s/Mad Men-esque quality to them. 

 

This place used to be a Coca Cola bottling plant.  In the early 80s, the Federal Bureau of Printing and Engraving was considering a new printing plant to print paper money and Winslow was among a half dozen contenders in the West. The Whipple's stores had just gone out of business and my dad had been hired as the City Administrator.  He got a committee together to wine and dine the advance team that was coming to check Winslow out.  Part of the festivities included tour of the city, including this closed plant that could house the printing operations, and a reception/barbecue in our back yard (house pictured earlier.) He hired a local bar band with the instruction that they needed to know The Eagles' "Take it Easy"    The band dutifully played it as the lunch was winding down and they did a great job as I remember. Then my dad got up to speak and espouse the beauties of Winslow, Arizona and to invite them to bring their operation here. As part of his remarks, he talked about a song as if it was ancient history- the song was about 7 years old at the time- "The kids used to sing a song about 'standing on a corner in Winslow Arizona' and the song was about taking it easy"  I never told him that the song is not actually complimentary.  Ultimately, the government not only chose not to come to Winslow, but not to add a printing plant at all.  This building still sits vacant more than 30 years later.  

There were some monument signs placed out at the freeway ramps at the time also that said "Take it Easy in Winslow Arizona!"   Those are gone too. 

Well, for better or for worse, I stood on a corner in Winslow Arizona.  Nobody in a flat bed ford slowed down to take a look at me- girl or otherwise.  Whether anybody from the Eagles ever actually stood on any corner anywhere in Winslow is kinda irrelevant, they were making the point that they were down and out.  It could be any number of places that could make that point in a song, but you gotta admit, Winslow, Arizona does kinda fit the bill.  I was never one to wait around for someone to save me.  I left Winslow at 4AM on the morning after high school graduation when I was 17 years old.  I left Winslow and all things Winslow behind.  I regret not nurturing and protecting friendships and family relationships that I should have nurtured and protected.  It sounds shocking now as a grown man saying so, but I didn't know that I was supposed to.  Thank heavens for Facebook getting me reconnected with people who blessed my life in the past.  I'd like to hope that my contribution will bless their lives going forward.  A friend of mine from California actually took this next shot of me on a previous Winslow visit. Note what a great job the artist did depicting a flat bed ford reflected in the window. There's an eagle perched on the window above and two lovers embracing in the window on the right- it's just a painting on a wall!

Here's one of hundreds of tourists who stand on this corner in Winslow and take pictures like the one you see above. Note that a tourist or other enthusiast has parked a Ford on the curb there... in the left of the shot?  

I mentioned my Sunday School teacher from all those years ago.  I didn't see her on this trip, but I saw her a couple of years ago when I was up there for a funeral.  I asked what it was that kept people living in such a tough place.  Everything that those Mormon settlers said about it all those years ago is still true.  It can seem so God-forsaken sometimes.  She said that Winslow is a seed bed.  There is fertile soil there (good people) and it grows good strong people who then go and do the things that the world needs done.  Some of them stay, some come back, some of them go and do those great things in other places. 

The great philosopher Popeye once said, "I am what I am and it's all that I am."  (He also said, "I'm strong to the finish, because I eats my spinach!")  Instead of fighting against it, I just AM.  I'm from Winslow- and that fact damaged me terribly in some ways, but in other ways, I don't think I could have made it through my hard-times without some of the lessons learned there. It's not always people committing evil acts against us.  It's just life happening to us. 

You may not believe this, but the thought actually crossed my mind as I took a day to reflect on my time in Winslow and look at the place of my primary years with more mellow and seasoned eyes- I thought that I could actually live here and make a go of it.

Welcome to Arizona!

I don't know why it's taken me so long to write about this event- it took place on March 14th.  My Facebook page seems to be more current and interactive and I use this blog to talk about things near and dear to me that maybe require more verbiage. I guess I had to collect my thoughts on this one. 

In March, I headlined the largest event I've ever played.  I've done larger events but as secondary entertainment or on a "second stage". I'll share my thoughts on the subject as we go through the pictures.  Citibank was in town for a reward retreat for top performers throughout their company.  People came from all over North America. 

This is load in at 11AM in the Gold Room at the Arizona Biltmore.  The hotel staff were incredibly concerned about my lighting rig getting close to the ceiling.  It was still a foot away but that's actually gold leaf pressed up there. It's LED lighting so, thankfully, it doesn't get hot- that was another concern.  Old school theatrical and nightclub lighting can get very, very hot.

That's percussionist, Bopa King Carre from New York City in the left of the shot.

Doing sound check here.  That's electric violinist, Grey DeVio also from New York City listening to himself.  I was to be center stage with my DJ workstation, Bopa on my right with a set of Latin drums and other percussion.  Grey was to be on my left with his electric violin.  I would take the lead as DJ and they would add live elements as the mood/energy presented itself. 

Here the three of us are being scolded about how loud it is.  (When there are 1000 people in the room, we will be hard pressed to equal the volume that they will be making)  We were a bit loud admittedly, but there was an energy level and an attitude about what we were doing that made it seem louder in the middle of the afternoon than it was in reality.  Sometimes, I think my stage clothes and leather and chrome boots make it seem louder than it really is.  Live acoustic drums don't have a volume knob.  To a certain degree, we had to match those or be drowned out.     

This part of the event is actually going to be the "after party"- more of a straight up night club experience from 10P to 2A after the Hoe Down earlier in the evening which I'll describe next. When the afterparty stage was set up, I unplugged my work station and moved that out to the Squaw Peak Lawn and plugged it into another sound system for the Bar-b-que/Arizona/Hoe Down/County Fair thing they were doing from 6P to 10P. 

Side note- Many years ago, when I was still living in LA, I came to Scottsdale AZ for a big grand opening for a regular corporate client.  In addition to me, they had hired a couple of local entertainers.  There was a trash can percussion band and a belly dancer and a caricature artist if I remember.  The trash can band was to go on first.  They had filled the stage with barrels, trash containers and various other interesting junk that they could make sounds on.  The 3 percussionists had ragamuffin/street urchin costumes that they wore well and they certainly knew their stuff. Several hundred event attendees gathered in anticipation because it did generate some interest.  They started the show and within 30 seconds, they lost the crowd.  They had no showmanship, no stage presence and there was no amount of cool costuming or interesting gadgets on the stage that could save them or the show.  It was a shame because I did enjoy the crazy beats they were creating.  The event coordinator shut them off early thankfully.  It was up to me to get the event back on track. I played one number at half volume as they were clearing the stage and then I shouted "Hello Friends!" and went into the next track at full volume and I danced and smiled a bit.  I  had no lighting or any specific stage show, it was me filling the stage with my personal presence.  It wasn't even my music, it was someone elses songs, but it was as if I had turned the switch on for that event.  The mood changed immediately to what it should have been for the occasion. 

Back to this event.  I gotta say, I was feeling very naked and exposed on this big stage. I usually have my lighting rig and my speakers close by. All I had was my work station/podium like back at the Scottsdale gig all those years ago.  I was feeling the pressure of 1000 people. I was feeling my 46 years. I was feeling the pressure of the largest professional fee I've ever collected.  I dug down and FILLED that stage with myself, that's what stage presence is. 

The sun is setting on Piestewa Peak in the background. The new politically correct name is "Piestewa Peak", but it will always remain "Squaw Peak" to me.

Somebody snapped a pic from the stage.  I was leading the masses in a line dance of some sort with my wireless headset mic.  I'm in the front there just to the right of center in this shot.  

I'm usually pleased when I have more than half of a room dancing. I connected with virtually the whole crowd of 1000 people.  

Here's a little bit of video that I shot from the stage. That's a LOT of dancing bodies. 

The event planner and the corporate client were telling me early in the evening about a local dance band they had on opening night of their conference/retreat, three nights before, and how good they were and how many people danced and danced. They came back to me later and said, that they didn't know what they were talking about. They had been pleased with 150-200 people dancing with a great band and a big lighting rig and everything. They had no idea that I could connect with the WHOLE crowd with just my personal presence and recorded music.

My only regret here is that when I say so, it's boasting, but if somebody else were to say it, it would be a compliment. It's MY blog and here's the video to prove it so I hope I don't come across as arrogant.   

One more thought before I move on to the afterparty: Part of "reading a crowd" music-wise, is how they are dressed.  When the event planner from New York hired me, we chatted at length about not wanting to do the obvious Arizona things because they are usually stereotypical, not authentic, and could come across as cheesy.  I only know a tiny handful of people who wear cowboy hats or boots around here. They had distributed cowboy hats and bandannas to the attendees for this bar-b-que dinner and, in a strange way, it threw me off.  I probably played more country music while the food was being served than I should have.  I didn't even become conscious of it until after the meal was winding down.  Reading the crowd is something so second nature to me, I just did it automatically even though I had consciously intended to go light on the country music.  Since the wearing of cowboy hats was artificially disproportionate to the actual number of country music fans, I almost blew it.  I caught myself in time thankfully.  

The lawn element ended at 10PM and I quickly rolled my workstation back into the gold room and plugged back into the other sound system and lighting rig and they let everybody in 5 minutes later. Everything sure looked good!

 

I played for about 30 minutes to find the groove and get every body settled in for the long haul and then I introduced Boppa and Grey. It was so good, it almost immediately changed from a dance party to a rock concert. People rushed the stage to feel the energy we were creating.  It was at a level that was off the charts!  We hadn't rehearsed anything.  We had chatted by phone and exchanged a couple of emails on the subject and had decided on a basic direction to go but we wanted it to remain free-form so that it could live and breathe and respond to the crowd. 

Sadly, we got to play for about 20 minutes and because of the volume of those live acoustic drums, we had to go back to just live DJ work by myself...  at a little lower volume.  The event was scheduled to go until 2AM but it wrapped up just before 1AM. I like an event to end instead of die out.  1AM was a good END time.  Left them breathless and wanting a bit more instead of a dozen drunken hangers-on.  It had been a long week for the attendees as they had done a community service project early that morning and many had early flights to catch the next day.  

I gotta give some love to the best roadie/sound tech/stage manager/wardrobe mistress/personal assistant/right-hand-man in the history of the craft. I couldn't have pulled off this event without my best buddy, Scott Blood, from Orange County CA. His work was brilliantly intuitive- he just anticipated what I or what the event would need next and he took care of it.  He and I were loading equipment at 9AM, rolled on to the site at 11AM, loaded out at 2AM and got back to the shop and 3AM.  Even after 18 hours, I didn't hate him. 

Wedding in the round

I've waited for some time after this wedding to post this.  I regret that I'm not a photographer- first, I don't have a great camera and second, I'm there to do DJ work and not take a bunch of pictures.  I try to snap a couple here and there to post interesting things as I see them. I've waited for some time because this particular wedding looked so much better in my mind and heart than my photo abilities could capture. 

This photo was taken before all of the fresh flowers were placed on the chairs.  After the flowers were done, I was busy doing my work as a DJ and guests were arriving- no more time for snapshots.  I had seen this type of a set up on some wedding blogs and on pinterest but this was the first time I had seen it in practice. 

People, individually, are pretty smart, but as a crowd, there seems to be a separate mentality and they need some direction.  Although everybody thought it was really charming, it completely tweaked their melons as to how to work it.  "OK, so where do we sit?"  "How do we get in?"  Even though I wasn't an usher or anything, I had to explain to several people that the 10 or 12 chairs at the center were reserved for the parents and the bridal party but other than that, they would just enter the spiral right there on the left and go in as far as they'd like and sit themselves down. When the ceremony started, it made so much more sense to them.  Everybody had a front row seat as the bride and her father made their way AROUND the aisle, not down the aisle...  It was a beautiful thing.  

Instead of a guest book, attendees were invited to write their good wishes on these tags and put them in the antique jewelry box. 

I express my regrets again that I'm not a great photographer- I couldn't have captured this young woman's beauty.

There are 'strata' of people.  There are those that are beautiful as measured by the standard of the the glamour magazines. There are those that are beautiful because of their humor, their kindness, their generosity...  there are some people that are rather 'homely'  Please don't take offense... I've often wondered too if my life in entertainment might have been different if I was a homely man perhaps?  At least I don't have a big goiter growing out of the side of my neck with a greasy eyeball sticking out of it or anything...

I've seen brides of all kinds over the years.  I am usually able to weed out most 'bridezillas' in the consultation process so my customers are mostly wonderful people.  I don't care how pretty or rich someone is, I won't put up with abuse.  This bride was not only charming and sweet but beautiful in the physical realm as well.  That said, I've seen some physically beautiful brides blow it with the wrong dress or with a bad make-up job by a friend or family member as opposed to a professional make-up artist.  I've seen others that were rather ordinary when I met them during a consultation but who really shined on wedding day with great hair, makeup and the right dress. 

This was a Vera Wang gown and when I heard that she had altered it with a thing on the hip and some other adjustments, I thought she was crazy but when I saw it, I knew she was exactly right.  She chose the perfect dress, she changed it up slightly and made it her own, it was the perfect hair, the perfect make-up, the perfect veil. 

To top it all off, she was/is just an absolute sweetheart. 

Behind the scenes

My father spent his life in retail and was passionate about things like going to a fashion show in New York and finding things that he could sell in his stores in northern Arizona.  They would arrive, he'd put an ad in the paper, make a display and people would come and buy the things that he planned for them to buy.  He loved it! 

I love what I do and I enjoy all of the equipment and services and artistry and other things that go into an event behind the scenes.  I'm kinda like my father, I enjoy seeing people come to an event and have the good time that we all planned for them to have.   

Setting up an LED screen behind the stage and some testing in progress. 

Somebody snapped a shot of me setting up some sound equip but it became a silhouette with the screen being tested.

"Recharge!" was the name of the event.  You can see my DJ workstation behind the pillar in the right of this shot.

I snapped this one just before the event was to begin.  Room is all set.  This event had 500 people but this venue holds about 800 for concerts and such.  The balcony on the right and behind my head has more space than is evident in this shot.  They are doing an expansion that will accommodate about 1500 soon.

 My friends- The Lisa Pressman Ensemble playing some great jazz for about 45 minutes.  I played most of the night before and after them. 

I love that I get to be the "face" of an event and people will often come and thank me for the good time that they had not realizing all of the various trades that made it happen but that did NOT get to be on stage to be recognized for it.  There's technical crews in sound and lighting, tables, chairs, linens, china, photography, flowers, caterers and it goes on and on. 

Here's another part that the guests don't see- the load out.  All of this stuff goes into road cases to go to another event on another day.  

32 years as a DJ.

Last  month I celebrated 32 years as a DJ and entertainer. Technology has come a long way since I started and evidenced by the fact that I'm sharing my thoughts on the subject of professional anniversaries on this fancy-schmancy, electronic, new-fangled, on-line journal.  Click here and here for previous commentary.  I have noted before that the first song I ever played as a DJ was Gary Numan's "Cars".  It was a brand new song then and it's almost 33 years old now.  I think I played it on a cassette tape the first time.  You young-uns may not know what a cassette is- it's pictured at the top of this photo.  There would be about 20 minutes of music on one side and then you would take the tape out of the player and flip it over and play 20 more minutes on the other side. (The cassette pictured is not the Gary Numan tape that I played.) 

But I did play those two 8-track tapes by Styx that night- in addition to others.  Come Sail Away, Blue Collar Man, Renegade etc. It was my Dad's stereo and I frankly never intended to be a DJ.  I was a keyboard player dog-gone-it!  A few weeks later, somebody who was there wanted me to do their party too and I resisted, citing the fact that it was 8-track tapes that had to be cued in advance and it was my dad's stereo yada yada yada.  They insisted- "No, we loved what you did- you really rocked it and made it fun!"  It's 32 years later now!

8-tracks and cassettes are very difficult for DJ work and I switched to vinyl- mostly "45s" which had one song on either side. You can see one of those too in the center of the picture above. Vinyl is making a comeback in recent years.  It has a warmth that digital is missing sometimes.  There is also something to be said about the fact that you  have to invest in the listening experience with vinyl.  It's not as convenient as an ipod.  You actually have to set aside some time to listen- it's difficult to do something else like work out, send emails, groom your nails... you have to get the record out of its sleeve and put it on a turn table and put the stylus down and listen to 20 minutes of music and then... you have to get up and flip the record over and listen to the other 20 minutes.  You are almost required to stop down and listen to what the artist is trying to say. It's even better when you just surrender to the experience willingly. Some songs become more profound when they are played after a couple of other songs that might set the mood and then a musical experience can ebb and flow.  There are liner notes and album artwork and lyric sheets to read and study while you listen.   

In the middle of my career, CDs came out.  I resisted mostly because I already had a huge investment in vinyl, already a decade in, and didn't want to buy another collection.   Once I finally made the switch I wondered why I hadn't done it the day that CDs appeared.  I could carry far more music and have quicker access to any given song on the fly.  Sadly, there are tens of thousands of artists and albums that never made it to digital and may never be seen again.  Gary Numan made it.  You can see that I had him sign this CD copy when I saw him in LA in 1997.  I've met him a few more times since.

On my 32nd anniversary as a DJ, I played his song again at a very large singles mixer/dance in Tempe AZ.  The song still seemed fresh and energetic- it packed the dance floor with about 300 dancing bodies!  You may want to click on the picture to see my work screen with "Cars" highlighted on the right.  Actually, the computer file I'm using here was made from the CD pictured above.  I carry about 20x the music that I used to carry with no extra weight and space and even quicker access to any song- usually about 8 seconds to find anything. It cues in about a quarter second but it takes me 8 seconds to find and select it. 

I actually resisted switching to digital in 1999 mostly because I'm not a computer whiz and it was hard for me to imagine showing up for a gig without a disc that I could hold in my hand.  MP3s were cutting edge at the time and I bought a computer and adapted it to the purpose of DJ work.  The industry moved that direction very quickly and my workstation pictured was the first commercially available computerized DJ system.  It's nearly 6 years old now and is becoming antiquated.  I like it though.  It has really been a battle axe. 

I think that Bing Crosby and Beethoven and Glenn Miller and Carmen Miranda and Bill  Haley and Handel and John Lennon would be thrilled to know that I think their music is important all these years and centuries later and that I carry it on an electronic device and that I play it regularly. 

I'm not sure what the next format will be.  I don't think we will "own" music anymore in the way we do now and I'm not sure how artists will be paid for producing it but I do believe that however that turns out, an entertainer like me will still be able to make a living by adding entertainment value in the playing of the songs.

Styx's Tommy Shaw wrote what I think is one of the great metaphors of rock music in a song called "Sing for the Day". In the song, "Hannah" is the embodiment of everybody who has ever loved a song. The song is written in the first person and so the "I" is the song itself. It invites Hannah out at night to sing and dance. It knows how a song can change a nation, it knows how to heal, it knows how to express the things that people have a hard time verbalizing otherwise. It also realizes that if the musicians don't play it and the people don't sing and dance to it, the song is forgotten and it dies. It has no life on its own apart from those that love it and keep it alive.  The song even pleads that Hannah won't forget it when a new song comes along.  I love playing a song like Journey's "Don't Stop Believing" and seeing people who weren't even born when that song was written sing along with every word.  I can cut the music for fun in key places and hear 300 voices singing in unison as loud as my sound system had been. 

Live music is still alive and well and viable.  Just this week, I journeyed to southern California to see my son Javin play guitar live at the House of Blues in Anaheim.   

That's him on the left here. 

As I mentioned above, my first event worked well and became the genesis of a career in music and entertainment because I was an entertainer, not because I was simply playing somebody elses songs on 8-track tapes on my dad's stereo.  Just a reminder that all of the brilliant technology in sound and lighting won't save an event if the DJ stinks. This will sound cocky and arrogant and that is not the intent, but I could go in to an event with an ipod and a couple of speakers and make it happen.  I sure love having all of the brilliant equipment and lighting to make my job easier, it frees me to BE the entertainer, but my job is not to simply run the equipment.  An ipod playlist won't respond to the crowd and the moment, it will just play the next song.  A good DJ will feel the moment. My job is to add entertainment value to those songs by playing them in an order that makes sense and creates energy and by highlighting dramatic elements of the songs with cool lighting effects and by giving voice to the emotions of the occasion and taking attendees on an adventure and helping them release.  They will heal their hearts and make sense of the troubles in their lives and they will celebrate a landmark event in their family or in their company and they will mark the times and seasons and they will feel better when they leave.   

Sometimes when I'm at a piano event, the opening notes of some songs are met with absolute jubilation.  There are lots of songs have entered the collective consciousness and have been a constant to people through good and bad times.  Three and four generations of people know those songs.  They know every word, they sing along, they are hugging each other, dancing and getting in to it.  I feel their energy and I dig down and nurture it and add to it and send it back to them and they feel the renewed energy and they start getting down and laughing and singing and dancing and they send it to me and I send it to them.  It's a love fest!  People become comfortable expressing themselves in ways that they otherwise are uncomfortable doing.  Tears can be shed comfortably.  It helps let go of the hurt.     

I really do count myself blessed.  If you have read this far, thanks for that.  If you have read this far and you are one of those that has been blessed by music in your life- carry on!  If you are reading this and you are one of my industry mates or mentors- thanks for the love and thanks for the things I've learned from you, you ROCK!  If you have read this far and you've contributed to my career and  happiness by hiring me or having attended an event where I played- thanks, Keep Rockin'!  Here's to not only the 33rd year, but a lifetime of love and music. 

POSH!

I was invited to play at a very POSH industry mixer for the Destination Management and Corporate Event world tonight.  These models were on either side of the stage on stools and a costume skirt that went to the floor with a hula hoop hem. 

I put a blue LED moonwash effect along with a red and green laser matrix that really made the sparkly costume sparkle. 

 LED screen at the back of the stage. 

You can see my logo on the wall off to the side of the stage and above the bar.  As people moved about the event from this room to others, they all saw it and I know there were some technical types that were wondering how I did that. 

I didn't know in advance that Harley Bonham would be behind the camera for this event.  He's the nicest guy around and a pleasure to work with.  We did a wedding together recently and we have another event together coming up in November.  He took some photos of the event that will knock your socks off- don't confuse my snap shot at arms length photos with a professional photographers work.  Harley is one of the best.    

 

 

In addition to the ten foot tall models up by the stage, this champagne glass model was opposite from me on the far side of the room.  

This last picture cracks me up because it's kinda like one of those snapshots that tourists in Italy take- pretending to hold up the Leaning Tower of Pisa... I was just taking a shot of my work station and I think this guys was checking his phone but it looks like he's about to drink the champagne!

Rockin' San Diego

I haven't posted anything in some time but it's not for lack of DJ adventures to post, it's just that the DJ adventures have consumed my time and secondly, I really do focus on my DJ duties at each event and not photographing each event for my blog.

I had a two night event in Southern California for Labor Day Weekend. It was a big Christian Singles weekend retreat with seminars, activities, speakers and a mixer dance on Friday night at the church hall and on Saturday night at a local amusement park. They had about 1000 people from all over the southwestern U.S. 

This Gobo (go before optical) ummm... anyways, it's a projection thingy in white light that was front and center on the dancefloor.   

Here are two of my best buddies from California.  That's Bill on the left.  He was my neighbor when I lived in Upland CA.  He's about the nicest and warmest man you'll ever meet.  Scott is on the right.  We've been friends for about 15 years now and my life is certainly better because I know him- he's full of wisdom and he's always a good house guest at my place or host when I'm staying at his place.  These two guys are quick to jump in on roadie and technician duties whenever I'm working in CA and need a bit of a crew.  Scott and I have done "dueling DJ" events together in LA and here in Phoenix a few times.  He's coming to Phoenix to help me with an event at the Arizona Science Center coming up in October.  It was sure great to see you guys.

Spent some time Saturday at the beach and at the San Diego Mormon Temple site with Scott.