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6:42 a.m. - 2004-09-06

FRANCES THE TALKING STORM

Wow.

Now I see why the weathermen were all giddy last week about this hurricane ... it's actually coming our way today.

We've got flashlights and batteries in case the power goes out.

The power is so sensitive here that it goes out if people even THINK about it going out.

Then you've got a shitload of guys that work for the power company standing around staring at a transformer for the better part of a week, trying to decide what to do between breaks.

I just went outside and cleaned everything that can blow away off the patio.

Which means I just interupted the sleep of about a dozen frogs on my patio.

I've got news for ya, Froggy ... you're about to get slammed with 90 mph winds.

Me moving Andrew's sandbox cover is the LEAST of your froggy problems today, baby.


So I DJ'ed this huge party Friday night.

We had upwards of 500 people in there and I had a huge dance floor going when this big dorky guy hit the floor.

Literally.

He was jumping around and acting like a fool when his knee gave out on him and he fell to the floor like a ton of bricks.

In 20 years, I've DJ'ed thousands of nights and have NEVER had this kinda thing happen ... even though the worst injuries I've ever suffered myself happened to me while I was dancing.

I didn't know if I should shut off the music and scream "Is there a doctor in the house?"

Or just keep playing music and waving my hands in the air like I just didn't care (which was not true ... I actually DID care that there was a big lug laying in the middle of the dance floor, hugging his knee like it was Paris Hilton on Ecstasy).

I ended up thinking "I won't embarrass the guy by pointing out that he's such a bad dancer that he injured himself" and continued with the music.

Meanwhile, the guy's friend and girlfriend helped him off the floor and out of the club.

THEN ... and this is kinda sad, so bear with me.

There's this old couple that comes out to the club ... probably in their mid-to-late 60s.

They always like to do these line dances to just about any song I play.

I can be playing hardcore rap music and they're all boot scootin' boogieing across the dance floor.

The woman never smiles and looks as if she's in a daze with a blank stare on her face ... right?

When she dances, she looks like a robot, just going through the motions trying to please her husband, the elderly dancing machine.

So they're doing their goofy little dance where they step step step CLAP! and she takes a tumble on the dance floor.

Automatically, I think there must be a shitload of melted butter or something on the floor because I've never seen one person fall to the floor, let alone two in one night.

The elderly man picks the woman up off the dance floor and they boot scoot boogie back to their table.

I went to check on her once I had successfully mixed "Freak-A-Leek" and "Yeah" because ... you know ... a full dance floor is more important than an elderly woman with a dislocated spine.

"She's got dementia," her husband told me. "She's had Alzheimer's for four years. I take care of her 24 hours a day, but she still loves to dance and that's why we're out here every Friday night."

I looked at her and she had this blank stare on her face and my heart just dropped.

Now her robotic dance moves made sense to me.


Well, it's just me, Andrew and Frances today so I'd better start getting prepared for the worst.

Hopefully the power won't go out and I can give you a blow by blow of riding out the storm of the month.

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