The Rise Group Holiday Party @ The University Club

On December 9th, 2006, at approximately 3:20 in the afternoon, an absolutely devastating tragedy occurred:

My glasses broke.

How is that for profound discontent? Meh. The unexpected demise of my discount eyewear was nowhere close to being branded as "the end of the road" for me. Truth be told, my vision was fuzzier than a Beanie Baby straight out of a clothes dryer's auto-fluff session, but I could still see the world around me and easily identify things, thankfully. The humor of all this was that my glasses snapped on my way to Fig, where I was heading to pick up equipment for my corporate party gig. The annual holiday celebration of The Rise Group, an architectural/financial consulting group, was going to be decorated by the sounds of myself and my partner Tobey. I had assisted the same event the year before, and tonight was my turn as the role of lead deejay. Excitement and anticipation surrounded me, but so did the fact that this was going to be the first gig in which I did not have clear vision.

I made it to Fig headquarters safely and securely—not to mention 15 minutes earlier than my designated meeting time. Lovely. Before Tobey arrived at around 4:30pm, I tried to glue, tape, and patiently re-attach the broken rim that held the right lens of my glasses—all tests proved negative. "How are you going to read the crowd without your glasses?" Tobey sincerely joked. Good question, actually. I had the foreknowledge of the abilities I was going to be temporarily impaired from: spotting certain people at the event, noting the time on the decks, and most of all, seeing the group that I was going to be playing for. I did not put my focus (no pun intended—honestly!) on what I could not do, but rather on everything else I could. I took that attitude with me, along with nearly 150 pounds of deejay equipment, as I set my blurry sights toward downtown Chicago.

The University Club on Michigan and Van Buren Avenue was the gorgeous, aged host to Rise's holiday celebration that Tobey and I were heading to. On our way there, a pep session ensued: it was our way of venting that allowed us to clear our minds and effectively prepare us for a positive performance. We also set goals for the night and for each other: Tobey's was to bottle her fears, experiment with the decks, and be a "super-assistant" for me; mine were to use Tobey well as my assistant, utilize her as my "eyes" of the night, and make sure that she had more experience on the decks. I also set a time goal of 30 minutes for our deejay setup, as we were running a tad late…not to mention that a truck was blocking the entire load-in area when we arrived. Luckily, they left after a while, and we were able to load in…to the surprise that one of the large tires on our cart had a flat. Crimeny! Even with all of these minor setbacks, I charged forward. I did not even mention or think about my eyesight once, as my concentration was on getting upstairs. Before we knew it, Tobey, myself, and all of our equipment were in the room and set up in less than the proposed half-hour.

It honestly felt a bit weird not being able to see the employees and guests of Rise's holiday party in detail. I was able to identify Kristine Miller and Christina Feder, our two contacts of the night, but everyone else resembled a motley, semi-thick soup of moving bodies. Melissa, one of our lead videographers/editors and a talented musician, told me earlier that day that she used to take off her contacts before performing on stage as a way to get comfortable with an audience. Beats imagining people in their undies, as I see it. I did not have an ounce of nervousness with this crowd: they were all pleasant, well-dressed individuals ranging from 20 year-old interns and 60 year-old executives. Tobey and I played a great mix of jazz for the diners, including Miles Davis, Benny Goodman, Dizzy Gillespie, and the incomparable Kurt Elling. I was totally impressed by Tobey's knowledge of jazz music—which she achieved as working at a jazz club in her youth. I made sure that her musical choices were heard. It's always great to work with someone with a broad knowledge of music.

Now, from a deejay perspective, some corporate parties—with stress on the word "some"—are infamous for not having a dancing crowd intheir roster. This celebration's participants hung on the borderline of this theory. I kicked off dancing with the Darin standard "Beyond the Sea" and Sinatra's "I Get a Kick Out of You." Result: Ineffective! I then moved to Stevie Wonder's "Superstition," along with a smattering of other funk and disco tracks. Some songs worked, but moving to another song in the genre would clear the couples that kindly set their feet to the beats. It was difficult to see who was enjoying themselves in the room; I kept asking Tobey if the people in the dining portion were swinging their shoulders or moving to the tunes that I spun, which was helpful to me. I would have enjoyed my crowd a bit more had I seen them in clarity. That focus factor did not stop me from playing, though. My best set was Michael Jackson's "Thriller," Rick James' "Give it To Me Baby," Deee-Lite's "Groove is in the Heart," and the song that makes you scream, "Ya ready?", Justin Timberlake's "SexyBack." I lost the crowd I had at that point with Furtado/Timbaland's "Promiscuous," but won them back with EWF's "September." It seemed that this was a crowd that liked specific songs, as opposed to those in a given genre, which made it hard for me to pinpoint tracks that would produce more "movement-longevity" to the audience. Our most enthusiastic dancing couple was the CEO and his wife, who stayed on the floor for a grand portion of the night. Truthfully, if the head of a company and his spouse were a-movin', then I had to be doing something right. The night ended soulfully with Bill Withers' "Lovely Day" and Marvin Gaye's "What's Goin' On."

This evening featured a combination of irony, dejà vu, and all of those other fancy literary terms. It did not take much for me to realize that not everyone danced and the floor was periodically depleted of Rise employees. Tobey was not too thrilled with that fact, but I was perfectly okay with the night's outcome. Why, oh why, you ask? The success in every deejay gig is not necessarily making people dance and jamming the floor with sweaty bodies, but doing a professional job. I say this humbly and respectfully: Our professionalism and service is one of the main points that we get booked to perform at such classy events as this, and Tobey and I did upheld that standard grandly. We dressed well, set up wonderfully, played great tunes, and kept a calm and courteous demeanor throughout the night. Even with my necessary eyewear broken, I still carried on with the night and let God and my strong belief in my abilities to be my vision. So, how does one perform—or do anything—with an impairment? By complete faith. That's all one needs to see well.

– Brent Rolland, resident deejay

(Special thanks to Kristine, Christina, and everyone from the Rise Group, as well as to Julianne Farrell and everyone at the University Club for their superb hospitality. Kudos and appreciation to everyone!)