Inside traxx: Diary of DJ Sisyphus

Too Cool for School

A week later, I was at my first ever broadcasting school session. I still couldn't believe the National Broadcasting Training Network had hooked me up with my idol, DJ Loco. He was like, the Dali Lhama of disk jockeys, but with better clothes.

I stared in awe at his high-tech amp, the autographs on the wall, his off-the-hook CD collection...would I ever become a DJ as cool as DJ Loco? This was my only chance.

"All right Simon," said DJ Loco, suddenly sounding more like my eighth-grade math teacher than a DJ known for deepthroating the mic at club shows. "Let's get down to business."

"Sounds good man," I replied, settling back in my chair.

DJ Loco stared at me expectantly. "Did you bring your assignment?"

"Assignment?" I echoed. I vaguely remembered hearing something about this during the broadcasting school orientation, but it all floated out one ear once I laid eyes on my broadcasting school mentor.

"Simon," DJ Loco let out a breath. " I know you're probably thinking becoming a DJ would be the sweetest gig in the world, and it is, man. It really is. But broadcasting school is school. If you want to make it as a DJ, you gotta do the work, bro."

"Okay," I said, rallying. If this is what DJ Loco said I needed to do, I would do it.

Moments later I felt like the world's biggest sissy.

"Theopholus Thistle," I said, hissing like a deflated whoopy cushion.

"Theopholus Thistle," DJ Loco intoned patiently, sounding like an alto sax.

"I don't understand why I need to know this," I said desperately. "It's not like DJ language is this hard to pronounce."

DJ Loco cocked an eyebrow at me. "This from a man who goes by DJ Sisyphus?"

Touche.

By the end of my first broadcasting school session, and a detailed lecture on things like "diction" and "front, middle, and back vowels," I had a whole new appreciation for DJ's, and a whole new take on broadcasting schools.

This was like, school. With actual, work. What had I gotten myself into?

But fate has a way of evening the score.

"Hey Simon," said DJ Loco casually, "Want to hang around after your session and watch me do my show?"

And just like that, I realized broadcasting school was nothing like the other schools I'd been to. It was a thousand times better.

On the way out of the DJ booth that night, I couldn't wipe the grin off my face. My first day of broadcasting school couldn't possibly have got any cooler. I was in such a daze I didn't even notice I ran smack into someone in the hallway.

"Hi," said a melodic, honey-voice that sounded like heaven on an MP3 player.

"Hi," I replied. The voice belonged to an incredibly beautiful, woven-haired angel, whose dark blue eyes made me think only two words. "Keisha Who?"

Did I just say my first day of broadcasting school couldn't have been cooler?

Here's to speaking too soon,

DJ Sisyphus