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I kicked tuchas at Max's Bar-Mitzvah

Saturday Mar 6, 2004

11 years ago in a galaxy far far away a close friend of mine named Max became a man in the eyes of the Jewish faith. Today another young lad named Max made that leap to adulthood. I was his DJ.

This was hardly the Ritz, but the view could not be topped. The entirety of the Golden Gate lay to our right while the city and bay bridge glistened to the left. The temperature was just shy of 70 and not a cloud disturbed the blue of the sky. I was stuck inside with 12 and 13 year olds....Story of my life it seems. Actually it was a fun little party. It got lengthened a bit though by a simple oversite. See, I left the interior rear light on in my car. Apparently car batteries do not like when you leave lights on when the engine isn't running. Who knew? Anyway, AAA saved the day despite my inability to give them an intersection since I was over three blocks away from a road with a name and this "Yacht Club" was a far cry from listed and obvious to the Triple A eye. Nonetheless good old Steve came and jumped me and I was ready to roll in a matter of moments.

It is now time for Eric's birthday dinner. He has his whole family in and we're celebrating in style. I'm sleepy so I hope I get my second wind before dinner. I leave you with this thought. During my shower this morning I engaged in a session of body percussion to the likes of which I had never previous encountered. I dare say that I have a skill, albeit it a slightly grotesque one and one that depends on body fat continuity which frankly I cannot provide. But if I ever take my shirt off during a show, expect something magical to ensue shortly thereafter.

Mahalo

J