Hey Mr. DJ
Rounding out my To Do List in the first trimester of wedding planning was finding a DJ. For a hot second, I dabbled in the notion of hooking an I-pod up to the speakers and blasting that sucker throughout the room. That lasted all of ten seconds when I realized that my I-Pod from circa 2004 was a.) Mostly filled with music from Now That's What I Call Music 1-10 and b.) missing. Nevertheless, going with a real life DJ was probably in everyone's best interest considering there is a time and place for Aqua's Barbie Girl and All Saint's Never Ever, but a wedding isn't one of them. In fact, cracking the top 3 on our Power Rankings for weddings would be 1.) Food 2.) Drinks and 3.) Music, so having a DJ to get it started in hur was crucial.
Fortunately for us, James' old roommate was a DJ in his spare time, and James promised he would deliver; in addition, he was giving us a discount for obvious reasons. I was sold. The months passed by with very little contact with the DJ. I was not worried. James was not worried. However, someone, who will remain nameless, was worried. Apparently, according to The Binder, the couple should have an initial meeting with the DJ followed by several other get togethers to discuss semantics and details down to every last minute so everything is PERFECT!!! We had had no such meetings by the third trimester. All, I could throw out there to the worried, anonymous person was that James has visual evidence of his DJing in Vegas. That had to count as something, right? It's Vegas.
Meanwhile, James and I commenced on our playlist. It was tricky blending all of the tastes of our diverse crowd into something everyone can get up and dance to. Motown music for our older black folk. Dances that explicitly tell you how to dance like the Cha Cha Slide for the rhythmically challenged older white people. Country Roads for anyone who hailed from West Virginia. Country music also for anyone from the Mountain State. Hard core rap and Gangnam Style for our younger black crowd and Asian population respectively. I'm just being stereotypical on that one, but you can't assume otherwise. Show tunes for my theater teacher and aspiring Broadway star maid of honor. We No Speak Americano on repeat for my two former Hispanic students. Again, slightly stereotypical. And upbeat songs with lots of vibrations for the deaf people. James and I grabbled with the list for quite some time. "You can't play Nelly's Air Force Ones at a wedding. No one wants to hear that." So sue me, Nelly in the early 2000s had some jams. Ummm…Ride Wit Me, Hot in Herre, Country Grammar, and Ignition (Remix). Nelly had us getting turnt up at our Catholic middle school dances. Plus that bandaid on his face was totally hot. Finally, we settled on Nelly only if the crowd requested it, absolutely no Happy by Pharrell, and Taylor Swift played sparingly.
Eventually, we did meet with our DJ, but we didn't need to nor did he need our playlist because he totally killed it. He was excellent and had everyone dancing the whole night. The moral of this story is if your DJ has played in Vegas, don't sweat it and leave Nelly for Throwback Thursdays where he belongs.
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