No, the heat in this place hasn?t gotten to me. And no, you?re not hallucinating. You?ve read exactly what you think you?ve read. I never thought I?d say it, but some workplace drama made me think twice. It all started after lunch yesterday.

Rob, an admin that sits on the other side of my cubicle wall, had called his cell phone company. His phone was on the blink due to no fault of his own; apparently, it?s not the first time that the phone has malfunctioned. So he calls customer service to get an upgrade, a service that he did not want to pay for. He had to explain this scenario at least four times because every time he talked to someone, he needed to be transferred to someone else. The dynamics in his voice would change with each person he called. Rob would start off all calm, then get louder the more agitated he got. So imagine this taking place four times in a row, the dynamic peak reaching a new plateau with each conversation. The phrase of exasperation went from ?Are you serious?? to ?Oh, you?ve gotta be kidding me? to ?This is bulls**t,? and ending with ?F**k that!? Meanwhile, the rest of us are answering calls while all of this is going on, phone receiver under one ear while plugging the other with our index fingers.

Things continued to go from bad to worse for Rob. Before long, whoever he was talking to would hang up on him. This happened twice, possibly three times. I remember Rob being connected to someone and the first thing he said to them was, ?I am not going to curse at you, so please don?t hang up on me.? After a few minutes, that person hung up on them, too. It was at that moment that I realized I was doing something right. Honestly, the mere fact that I?ve stuck with this for eight months is worthy of acknowledgement. Anybody that knows me knows that I despise phones. And yet, I still come in and do my thing. I answer the phone, I return calls, I troubleshoot queries, I try to get back to people as quick as I can, I strive to remain courteous at all times, and I like to think that I succeed more often than I fail. While Rob?s experience on the phone sounded far from pleasurable, it made me feel better about what I was doing. As my co-worker Matthew so aptly put it, ?If you?re talking to a customer and they never have to say ?F**k that,? you?re having a pretty good day.?

There?s an extremely funny TV show on the BBC entitled The Office. There are moments when my time here at Rosen Publishing mirrors that show. Every now and again, I just look around at everyone and think to myself, what on earth am I doing here with these insane people? There?s a boat cruise coming up in two weeks that the office is hosting. While I?m looking forward to it, the idea that I?m going to be on the boat with these fools with no feasible way of getting back to shore on my own is a little?well?frightening. I can?t front, though: I?ve grown accustomed to these nuts. They?re a lovable bunch ? crazy, but lovable.

When the time comes, I?ll fill you in on all the cruise details. Don?t you worry about that. Because after all?I?m here to help.

Here at my office, the air conditioner has once again proved itself to be a non-issue. It?s the third day that we?ve been working without it. Regardless of the fact that it?s one of those typical NYC summer days full of haze and humidity, it still feels better outside compared to in here. You could sit and do absolutely nothing and you?d still end up sweating. There is an air conditioner that?s working right now, but it?s placed in the middle of our main hallway blowing in one direction while spitting water from its grates. It may as well be an overgrown fan. Furthermore, it?s currently rigged in front of one of the bathrooms, which leaves only one accessible for employee use. It is also partially blocking the pathway to our printer, so every time I print something, I?m penalized with a face full of A/C spittle.

We currently have fans situated over our cubicles, but it doesn?t do much good unless you stand up. I entered the office today and was hit by a blast of cool air, which made me think that either the A/C was fixed or we had some kick ass fans. This only applies to the front desk area, however. The further back you travel in our office, the hotter the climate becomes. When we do remember to take a break (if the heat hasn?t already made us fall asleep), we make an immediate beeline towards the water cooler. Unfortunately, we?ve exhausted the ice cream supply. And all I can think about are the ice pops in my freezer at home. Meanwhile, I try to answer and return calls while not falling asleep in the process. It?s not oppressive, but it?s not good for working conditions, either. Still, I can only complain so much when I know that there are far worse situations that I could be in. All I have to do is take a walk outside and witness those sitting on the streets with their last few possessions and a sign explaining their plight.

I once saw a couple that needed money for a hotel room stay. I had passed them on the street at least three times in one week. One day, I decided I had to do something. I went to the ATM, took out a $20 bill, and placed it in their collection cup. I figured they needed it far more than I did. The next day, I?m on my lunch break, and I see the same couple?on the same street?hustling for the same reason as the day before. It broke my heart. Their problem was far bigger than my temporary solution. And it?s not like I didn?t know that at the time, but the reality of the situation isn?t easy to deal with, especially when you see several other individuals in that same situation. Maybe they really need that money for food, clothing, and shelter; maybe they?re asking to fulfill an ulterior motive. That?s not for me to judge, though ? that?s between them and God. If I have it to give, then I ought to. Such a principle is not always easy to keep in mind when you?re thinking about your own jacked-up situation, when in the struggle to make ends meet you find that they rarely introduce themselves.

Within the last year and a half, I was kicked out of a good paying job that I didn?t really enjoy, went through six and a half months of unemployment trying to find a gig that suited me better, walked through the one door of opportunity that actually opened, and have spent the last eight months in an entry-level position doing the one thing that I despise most: answering phones all day long as a customer service rep. But I know everything happens for a reason, and when the Lord decides that I should move on and move up, He will supply me with what I need to make the transition. Until such time, I?m stuck here with a motley crew of co-workers, slightly insane and sometimes rude customers on the other end of the phone line, and an army of oscillating fans. And right now, I think I?m okay with that. I?ve got music, I?ve got dreams, and I?m equipped with the insight that my present situation is not how it will always be. While it may not be the most desirable scenario, it?s still better than so many other places I could?ve ended up.

Perhaps I?ve gotten used to the stuffy climate of the office ? it doesn?t feel as bad as it did yesterday. I shake the drowsiness off of me as the fan above my head tilts from left to right, right to left. It?s not easy to overcome, however. I suspect this wrestling match will continue until it?s time for me to go home.

Think anybody would mind if I brought a Slip ?n? Slide in here?

Three words: DAY PARTIES ROCK.

I can do nothing but smile when I think about last Saturday. The night before, Beth told me about the DJ lineup for the first session at P.S. 1 this summer: Madlib, Peanut Butter Wolf, and Trevor Jackson. My jaw almost hit the floor. There was no question as to where I was spending the day on July 3rd. Wifey needed a ?me day? as she called it, so she wished me well and I was off to Queens.

As my feet touched the terrain of the urban beach, Madlib was setting the mood with a number of assorted soul, funk, and jazz gems. I don?t even think I was in there for ten minutes when he dropped the needle on ?Diggin? In Brownswood? by DJ Rels (brilliant slice of future soul). So I start cuttin? a step to that. Peanut Butter Wolf makes his way down the steps that lead towards the museum and smiles in approval. I bow in acknowledgement. Had to let him know that I was here to rep for Stones Throw.

Those two controlled the groove for the next four hours with hip-hop, some disco, some Latin-flavored joints, a little electro, all types of stuff. The DJ booth was right in front of the museum?s entrance, which you had to walk up steps to get to, so the sound system was naturally elevated. I did dip into the museum for a hot minute to check out the exhibitions, but I?ll have to head back on a day when I can take or leave the acts outside. I kind of felt as if I was doing the artists a disservice. Here were these amazing exhibits that I wanted to give my full attention to, but couldn?t because my main reason for coming was outside. Thankfully, most of the exhibits will be there until the end of September.

I knew that I would receive some sort of confirmation regarding my relationship with music if I went. I danced practically the entire time that I was there, as if all the energy that had been stored away from not being able to go out for a while was saved for this particular day. Hardly knew anyone else that was there, but the few people that I did recognize were all DJ colleagues, including my man Fflood, in town from California. So the only people I knew were fellow groove purveyors. Couple that with the fact that the three men that I came to see were highly accomplished DJs/producers in their own right ? that?s confirmation.

But it gets better. Trevor Jackson closed out the event with a two-hour set and KILLED IT. His offering was a positive education in house, techno, electro, and funk. By the time his mix began, the place was packed and heads were ready to dance and have a good time. A number of adults had brought their children along, and it was really cool to see them dancing and running around, having a great time. One kid was up on their guardian?s shoulders during Trevor?s set, throwing their hands in the air and all smiles. I danced alongside heads from around the way as well as some that lived as far away as San Francisco, Switzerland, and the U.K. Sharing such a great vibe with the people around me from all walks of life just reminded me of what a joy and a blessing it is to be alive.

On top of all that, Trevor played two songs that I have on my upcoming mix CD: Liquid Liquid?s ?Optimo? and Carl Craig?s ?Tres Demented.? The former song opens up the second half of my mix while the latter closes it out. I couldn?t believe it. As ?Tres Demented? faded up in the mix, I absolutely lost it. For anyone that?s heard the track, it?s Craig at his most primal and tribal. It?s all pounding drums with shrieks and yells that build in intensity as more elements are added. By the time the beat really kicks in, there?s no way you can?t get worked up into a frenzy. So I really let loose by that time.

Like I said, there were a number of people I didn?t know, but apparently they noticed me. Several of them commented on the fact that I had been dancing almost all day and seemed somewhat amazed by my amount of energy. (If you go to my profile, there?s a picture of me in the midst of body movin?. I?m wearing my ?got vinyl?? t-shirt. That?s pretty much what I looked like for six hours straight last Saturday.) I ended up taking pictures with a few people, which was fun, silly, and slightly odd. I?m far from a celeb and I?m no club kid. I?m just a guy that believes that music is God?s gift. Dancing without inhibition is how I show my appreciation. Maybe people needed evidence that you can have that much energy while dancing and not be high at the same time. Who knows? All I know is that I came to have fun and I added to the positive vibe of the day. I was where I was supposed to be.

During the last song of Trevor Jackson?s set, I made my way up the stairs and through the crowd to the DJ booth. When I got there, I thanked him for the set and especially for Liquid Liquid and Carl Craig. We spent the next few seconds talking about how wicked a track we both think ?Tres Demented? is. I also gave him props for the Playgroup Partymix, a megamix he created that packs over 200 songs into the space of an hour.

?Thank you for Music Appreciation 101,? I said. Trevor gives me this curious look and says, ?How old are you?? ?Thirty,? I reply. ?Oh?you?re a young guy, too,? he says. If Trevor?s in his early thirties, I?d be surprised. I figure him for late twenties, but he may be older than that.

I make my way towards the subway, hugging a few people on the way out. The world could?ve ended at that very moment and I still would?ve had a smile on my face. Exhausted but exhilarated, I head home, thinking to myself, if I had a chance to rock a crowd that size, could I pull it off?

I close my eyes, smile, and proceed to tell myself that I could.

I?ve recently stolen away enough time to start working on a new mix CD. This one will be entitled back to the party. The last two mixes that I?ve done (while musically diverse) have been very contemplative and introspective in nature. I wanted to do something different this time around. I?ve been long overdue for a celebration. I know of others going through this life that feel the same. So this one?s for all of us who just want to blow off some steam, throw our hands in the air, and surrender to a good beat. I?ve been describing the mix as ?a lo-fi booty shake session.? I just wanted to make a mix for heads to get their groove on to. It was largely inspired by two different events that I spun at. The first was Sound Unity Project 2 (three days of music and camping), which occurred last July in Upstate New York. The second was a party in Poughkeepsie, NY called Squeeshee back on January 31st of this year. Both hold a special place in my heart for different reasons and the playlist consists of a number of songs that were a part of my sets at these functions.

The mix will be about 80 minutes long and will include house, techno, disco, soul, and funk tunes. The process of recording has been a bit unorthodox, however. Usually I record live from two turntables and a CD player straight to tape. After that, I dump everything into the computer and try to clean up the sound. I currently only have one turntable, so I?ve been recording each song individually into my four-track mixer and working the segues that way. IT?S HELLA WEIRD. And kinda feels like cheating. But I didn?t want to bug anybody else in terms of using their setup. That and I?m impatient. I can?t see myself waiting around to record until I either buy a new turntable or get the old one fixed (which could cost more than just buying a new one, in some cases). I suppose that?s what I get, but with the way I work, I can make inferior equipment do some pretty impressive things. But this is the first and last time I?ll record a mix under these circumstances.

Still mixing down the audio, which hopefully won?t be too painful. The 2nd part has already turned out louder and more bottom heavy (mucho bass) than I would like, but the show must go on. We?ll see what comes out in the wash. I want to record a mix after this that?s more experimental, but that will be further down the line and with a more traditional dj setup. Anyway, here?s what made the cut for the latest mix. I hope to have it online by early August, perhaps even before that if time permits. Enough of my babbling, peep the playlist:

mouse on mars*diskdusk*thrill jockey
metro area*dance reaction*environ
the nick straker band*a little bit of jazz*prelude
cookie monster & the girls*c is for cookie (sweet version)*ninja tune (uk)
roy ayers*running away*polydor
cosmic rocker vs. zeb*hashish*codek
djinji brown*chango?s house*seven heads
aardvarck*non spoken (track b1)*delsin (the netherlands)
claro intelecto*tria*ai (uk)
the soft pink truth*soft pink missy*soundslike (uk)
the rapture*killing*dfa
liquid liquid*optimo*soul jazz (uk)
the soul searchers*blow your whistle*harmless (uk)
the joe cuba sextet*bang! bang!*tico
$tinkworx*whut*down low
ezekiel honig*cape cod getaway (john tejada remix)*microcosm music
matthew dear*in unbending*spectral sound
akufen*in dog we trust*force inc. (germany)
!!!*intensifieder ? sunracapellectrohshitmix ?03*touch & go
serge gainsbourg*marabout (bob sinclar remix)*mercury (france)
underworld*rez*wax trax!/tvt
carl craig*tres demented*planet e communications

Don?t know how many of you in the NY/NJ area watch Eyewitness News in the morning, but it?s always amusing to watch the celebrity birthdays scroll by on the bottom of the TV screen. This morning?s roll call was particularly humorous. Along with folks like Fred Grandy (TV?s Gopher from The Love Boat), there was also Mr. Josh Davis a.k.a. DJ Shadow. The fact that Shadow was even included was somewhat cool. The fact that he was mentioned in the same list as Gopher was downright hysterical. Even better than that, however, is how he was listed.

?Rapper DJ Shadow is 32.?

That?s right. You read that correctly. Rapper DJ Shadow is 32. Unbeknownst to him, he has joined a long line of DJ/producers that MC on the side. Either that or the folks at Eyewitness News still aren?t able to distinguish the difference between DJs and MCs. Then again, seeing as how they don?t even use the term ?MC? when referring to those who rock rhymes, I think we all know the answer to that one. I suppose it?s my fault for expecting more from those that only report on hip-hop culture whenever there?s violence going down or an arrest taking place.

At any rate, a happy birthday shout out to Josh Davis, student of the drum, master of the sampler, a sick archivist and digger of great music, and one who reminds that the possibilities in hip-hop instrumentals are endless.

And if you spot him spittin? verbals, let a brother know.

For those of you that may still need evidence that common sense has been outlawed by present-day society at large, check this out?

Last Monday, my wife parks the car across from the Pelham Parkway subway station and we make a mad dash for the number five train. Within one stop of our travels, we hear this commotion in our subway car. A man starts yelling at a somewhat malodorous individual to go back into the car from whence he came. Almost immediately after, this loud individual presses the emergency call button and says?

?Conductor, there?s a bum on the train that?s stinkin? up the whole car. Get him off.?

At this point, we?re on our way towards the East 180th Street stop. About a minute later, he presses the call button again. ?Are you gonna get him off?? Then he tries to get confirmation from the people around him. ?Nobody wants to smell that s**t. Am I right??

With all the attention he was paying to the bad odor (which, in the grand scheme of things, was a walking, breathing personification of hard times, mind you), he was completely oblivious to the air of aggravation growing around him. You could feel it rising to the surface. The only thing that the rest of us wanted was to get to wherever we had to go on time. And the self-appointed Smelly Bum Patrol was seriously getting in the way of that. Keep reminding yourself that he used the emergency call button for this situation - not because someone was having a heart attack, not because someone fainted, but because someone smelled bad. While it may not be pleasant to be around, smelling bad still isn?t a federal offense. Unfortunately, neither is being rude or stupid.

So we pull into East 180th Street and sit there. Big Brother Buminator hops onto the subway platform and finds the nearest police officer. ?Yeah, he?s over in the next car. Yeah, that car over there. He?s stinkin? up the whole train.? At this point, the natives are beyond restless and muttering obscenities to themselves as the conductor comes over the loudspeakers.

?Attention passengers: we are experiencing delays at this time. We should be moving shortly. We thank you for your patience.?

He would repeat this twice over the next ten minutes. To make matters worse, we see another number five train pull up. We watch people depart and board the train. And we watch this train that was once behind us pull out of the station. Now here comes the icing on the cake: do you think the man who caused all this ruckus actually stuck around when that other train pulled up?

That?s right, boys and girls: he held up our train, he boarded another one, and left the rest of us behind. And I?m sure when Tuesday morning came along, we were all secretly hoping that we?d see him. I haven?t seen him since, actually. I?m starting to wonder if he takes an earlier train most of the time or if the wrath of last Monday caught up with him and I just don?t know about it. Honestly, I hope the latter isn?t true. Although he was pushy and careless, it?s not within my rights to bring down that kind of judgment. On the off-hand chance that somebody made sure that he would catch a bad one, I?m not saying they should?ve killed him?

But I understand.

People who own IPods: they?re everywhere. And if you live or work in New York City, chances are you know a Pod person. On the off hand chance that you don?t, you?ve probably sat next to one on the bus or the subway. Maybe you?ve seen them in passing. It becomes a game after a while: spot the telltale white ear buds.

However, I?ve noticed that white ear buds do not necessarily a Pod person make. Could just be a regular FM tuner or CD player. Some Podsters have tried to throw me off the trail by donning different headphones, disguising the fact that they?re receiving transmissions from their fearless leader. But others proudly show off their allegiance like a badge of honor, IPod strapped to their shoulder bag, clipped to their pocket, strapped around their wrist. I once counted five Pod people on one street corner alone in NYC. This isn?t just a phenomenon?THIS IS A CULT.

Within my cluster of cubicles at work, I sit across from a pair of Pod people, their white-faced players leaning against their computer monitors, a mixed bag of sounds from Tom Waits to Jay-Z occurring between them. I myself rock online mixes and radio show archives. My pockets are way too lean to keep up with the IPod?s current price. It?s clearly become a luxury item at this point, not just the cool thing to have. Hipsters aren?t the only ones who have them on the hip, but older, well-to-do jetsetters have them, too. Accessories come in a bunch, including special IPod leather covers made by the likes of Gucci and Coach.

Pod people rate each other?s playlists online. If they spot each other on the street, one might look down at another?s player and jack in with their own headphones to see what they?re listening to. (While that is an actual phenomenon, I can?t see that happening a lot in Gotham?not without someone getting their face rearranged in the process.) I sit on the sidelines with a curious eye, staring at the next pair of white ear buds that pass me by, wondering if this person?s ?one of them? as well. Heck, all I want is a CD player with MP3 capability. I ain?t picky.

Earlier this month, a friend of mine threw a surprise party for their girlfriend. Got her good, too, I might add. Anyway, he was having a few friends spin records and wanted me to bring some wax. Being in the midst of deciding whether or not I should hang up the headphones for good, I said yes. And I?m glad I did. I arrived all glum and left super psyched. Good vibes, great people, and fantastic sounds. I brought some stuff that people knew and some they didn?t. All in all, I was pleased with the set and the heads in attendance were extremely supportive. I?m glad I didn?t chicken out ? it was good to be there.

Perhaps the secret to continuing to tag the tables is strictly house parties and loft parties. Maybe an outlaw if the right set of circumstances presents itself. At this point, a bar would have to really special in order to get me to spin there. I don?t like bars and I like bar owners even less. At any rate, my appetite for music is back ? BIG TIME. Been making mix tapes and CDs for friends and having a lot of fun doing so. Sharing music on a smaller scale is another element to all of this that I can?t overlook. But I really ought to give props to my man Fitz who reminded me that music will always be there whenever you need it. No matter how occupied you become with other aspects of your life, it will always welcome you back with open arms. It won?t bring up how you never called while you were away or anything like that. It wants your time with it to be creative and fun, and when it?s not, there?s something wrong.

It was the reminder that I desperately needed this month and it came at just the right time. Thank you, Fitz.

*brought back like lazarus* / saturday, may 8, 2004
{dj set at a friend?s surprise birthday party}

snares man!*clearance bin*history of the future
daedalus*busy signal (make you go bombing mix)*eastern developments
the pointer sisters*pinball number count (dj food re-edit)*ninja tune (uk)
prefuse 73*why I love you*warp (uk)
the prunes*not what you think*new breed
baba*let it shine*velour
a tribe called quest*spirits*jive/rca
dj krush*meiso (radio mix)*mo?wax (uk)
open thought*force of life w/Michael Erwin (trumpet)*wide hive
zeb/crnobrnja*sublime porkrinds*codek
quannum feat. lyrics born & the poets of rhythm*I changed my mind (stereo mcs rattlesnake mix)*quannum
headshock*do the jazz again*new breed
soul II soul*back to life (acapella) / jazzie?s groove*virgin
sharpshooters*bye bye porkpie*conception
moments and whatnauts*girls (part I)*stang
james brown*soul power pt. 1*king
marvin gaye*T plays it cool*tamla
jimmy edgar*morris nightingale theme*warp (uk)
deee-lite*say ahhh?*elektra
aretha franklin*rock steady (danny krivit re-edit)*ibadan
deee-lite*apple juice kissing*elektra
ballistic brothers vs. eccentric afros*blacker (94 eq)*delancey street (uk)
liquid liquid*cavern (the cut chemist rocks a rave in a missile silo remix)*mo?wax (uk)
bobby byrd*i know you got soul*king
cookie monster & the girls*c is for cookie (sweet version)*ninja tune (uk)
talking heads*once in a lifetime*sire
dj smash*say ow*new breed
the rapture*killing*dfa
manu dibango*soul makossa*atlantic
mr. scruff & mark rae*the squirrel*grand central (uk)

i be a child of GOD. i be a human being. i be an individual. i be a black man, spirit housed in a brown-shaded shell. i be 30 and restless. ravenous. relentless. i be extremist erraticus. i be the war-torn site of a battle waging between the spirit and the flesh. I be a potential disciple for Jesus, wondering at times if He truly meant to call *my* name.

i be a walking contradiction. part Passion of the Christ, part Ghost Dog: The Way of the Samurai. i be the edgiest Christian in my congregation, the guy who loves you with the love of Christ but doesn't yet feel that believers are exempt from ass whippings when necessary. i figure if the Messiah can take a beating that He didn't deserve for two days straight - the beating which i should've gotten - then you oughta be ready to catch a bad one when you know you've done dirt and wanna hide behind holiness to boot.

(okay, that's not entirely true. i'd like to think that i've been getting better about forgiveness. it's not the forgiveness part that i have problems with so much as the "be patient with ignorance and stupidity" part. that's NEVER been my strong point. yes, Lord, i know. i really don't mean to give you that migraine...)

i be extremely thankful that i have beth to share this life with. the past 4.5 years have been challenging, but i wouldn't trade them. and i wouldn't want to go through them alone - not with all i've been through. come september, it'll be five years married, twelve years together. children will really put things into perspective. someday soon.

i be spinning records in a club with the decor of a bordello for the last time, for bar owners who say I need to play more variety and weren't even there to hear most of the set for the last time, whose policy was, is, and always will be to sell suds, not promote vibe. so in the meantime, i be making mix tapes and CDs for friends to remind myself to continue to give to others and why i should still get giddy and excited about music.

i be customer service lackey. i be taking far too much crap from teachers, librarians, and smarmy school district pissants from all across america. i be WAY too angry to be in this position. and i know the Lord?s looking down on me and thinking...i didn't die so you could hold a grudge against a media specialist in a middle school in seattle who hung up on you twice last month. harden not your heart.

i be the guy that half my co-workers need to be real thankful i haven't acted out 5% of the things i've thought about in the office. i be the frightening reminder that we all aren't far off from taking it to a place called "there". but since i care not for becoming another dark-skinned cog in the machine called the prison industrial complex, i be a law-abiding citizen of the divided states of america.

i be plotting, planning, scheming, drawing up blueprints to move out of one situation and into another...hopefully one that's a closer fit to my personality and spirit. cause the one i'm in clearly ain't working. i be thankful for the small things in life: sunshine on my face, music in my headphones, a blog on which to post ramblings, any time i can laugh during the work day, and any day i don't leave the office angry or defeated.

to whoever reads these words, I hope and pray that you be how you need to be and where you want to be.

be well?

Last Monday, I was humming the TV theme song to The Odd Couple. The next day, my wife calls me at work to tell me that actor Tony Randall died. Haven?t been able to listen to that theme the same way since.

Time Magazine printed a touching eulogy from Jack Klugman. Brief, but quite poignant.