At 15 I had my first and only field sobriety test. We were celebrating the end of the school year at a penthouse party in North Bay Village, FL and I got a little out of hand. Financially constrained by our meager allowances, we drank bum liquor like Natty Ice, Cisco and malt liquor that looked like screw-topped lava lamps --
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hecqwlRQROk
Good enuff for 2Pac and the shape shifting Snoop Dogg/Lion, then it's good enuff for me.
We left in high spirits but got ambushed by the Bacon just steps from the car and subsequently lined up like convicts before a firing squad. They proceed to get us all grounded indefinitely by calling all of our parents. They continued turning the screws with a long-winded patriarchal lecture about the dangers of teen drinking. Finally the shield in charge asks if there's anyone that hasn't had anything to drink and proceeds to give each of us a 'smell test'.
"Drunk, drunk, drunk, drunk, you run of toothpaste and use dog-shit!?"
I'll never forget his name, Lt. Rabinowicz, because I thought Jewish cops only existed in Israel. He practically put his nose in my mouth and announced, "This guy is clean." and pats me on the shoulder.
There was an eruption of snickering and giggling from the rest of the crew as they conferred, "But wasn't he dancing?!?!?"
To this day, if you see me 2-stepping, I'm dangerously close to alcohol poisoning. I'll tell you another time I was getting' jiggy with it, Tian's Riverside Elite Event and it's all because of DJ KevG. At first I chuckled when I heard his basic-sounding moniker. Like when I found out Miguel Cotto had lost his Super Welterweight champ status to a guy named...Floyd Joy Mayweather, Jr.
Like Pretty Boy Floyd, Kev G. eats the competition for breakfast with Vermont maple syrup and a pat of Land O'Lakes butter. His name obviously stands for Kevyn Goro, as in the half-dragon 4 armed under-boss from the first Mortal Kombat --
http://www.manufato.com/wp-content/uploads/2009/09/goro-wip-05.jpg
He was spinning on seemingly the 1's 2's 3's and 4's like he was the centipede of scratch. Probably the three most difficult techniques for a DJ to master are timing, transitioning and beat-matching or when to play the right song, how it flowed from the last track and blends into the next and if it's the right beats per minute as to not disrupt the tempo. DJKG had a flawless victory on all points. The party reached its crescendo when he dropped --
*BOOOOOM* and do the Harlem Shake!!!
I was movin' like a shake-weight in the hands of an epileptic. I got so excited that I went to high five him but lost my footing thanks to one of those 3 foot Asian girls that were like trip-wires on the dance-floor. I almost took out the whole set-up! His squire, DJ Mike D, gave me the stink-eye as he realigned the turntables. Kev didn't even notice and if I'd been successful in trashing his kit he'd probably just keep the party going by beatboxing...or singing a Boyz II Men-ish acapella of American Pie, dedicated to me...on the day the music died.
Luckily that didn't happen and there was a happy ending just like when I left what could've been the scene of a DUI/under-age drinking/public intoxication/open-container arrest. Without even as much as a learner's permit, not knowing how to drive stick and stalling a 5.0 Mustang twice before peeling out. I concentrated on the wheel and pedals while my friends shifted and gave me guidance. If I'd have known Kevin Gould then...he'd have probably done donuts around the patrol cars while mixing cocktails and most importantly, manning the radio. read more