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raybearIn my county growing up, the split middle school into 7th, 8th, and 9th grades, and high school was 10th, 11th, and 12th grade. This was due to overcrowding (though both schools had at least a dozen trailers -- they didn't even attempt to call them mobile or temporary classrooms). At the end of middle school, we had an awards ceremony and a small unoffical promotion type deal -- not a minigraduation, but some sort of acknolwedgment of moving up to the other building across town. And we also had a dance.
This dance was called a MORP. As in, prom spelled backwards. At the time, I thought it was some known tradition being introduced to me. Years later, I've yet to meet anyone who ever attended or knew of a morp, so I'm guessing it was something conceived by the middle school dance committee. But it stuck in my head, so whenever I'm discussing "alternative proms", I automatically call them "Morp"'s.
Last night I DJed a Morp -- the lgbt community center hosted a prom for the youth. I was a last minute replacement, and despite me having to bring my own equipment, it wasn't too big of a hassle. I even found a parking space half a block from the arts center.
The kids were fun and cute, but suffered from the same afflictions that the folks at the gig last weekend and the folks at the LCCP gig in the winter -- too interactive. I don't mind trying to accomadate some requests, but I prefer they be in a form like a piece of paper. I hate people trying to talk to me while I'm working, and also their response when I tell them "no I don't have that song". Or at least not with me. I guess I hate the idea that people are telling me how to do my job, which is always a pet peeve. I hate that people think being a DJ is easy, or that I'm not paying attention or that I don't know what I'm doing or that THEY know a better way to do it. I gave them very little attitude though, since after all, they're kids.
A few of them totally endeared themselves to me. They had a voting for prom king and queen. Except there was four categories -- male queen, male king, female queen, female king. And the girl who won the category of "male queen" was absolutely beautiful and charming and charasmastic and her alter ego was "Whitney" so she asked that I play a Whitney song when she wins, "because I know I'm going to win this, honey, and I really really want to!" I was happy to help the experience.
There were also two young extremely handsome latino boys who came up and requested meringue music. Then Madonna. Then Missy Elliot. Then one of them said, "uh, my friend across the courtyard, uh, he wanted me to ask you if you were gay." I smiled politely and say, "yeah. yeah, I'm bisexual." They nodded and said oh, okay. Then he said "are you single?" I'm sure I blushed outwardly, because my first thought was flattery but also alarms since I'm sure these kids were 17 or 18. So I said "No, I'm not." Which isn't a lie, but I wasn't sure I wanted to discuss my open relationship with them.
All in all, the evening went very smoothly, we left the building at 10:15 (much earlier than expected) I packed the car, drove my friends home, got home, showered, and was in bed asleep by the time MelRo called at 11:30 to tell me she arrived safely. I'm sorry I missed to talking to her, but I'm not sorry I was asleep
This dance was called a MORP. As in, prom spelled backwards. At the time, I thought it was some known tradition being introduced to me. Years later, I've yet to meet anyone who ever attended or knew of a morp, so I'm guessing it was something conceived by the middle school dance committee. But it stuck in my head, so whenever I'm discussing "alternative proms", I automatically call them "Morp"'s.
Last night I DJed a Morp -- the lgbt community center hosted a prom for the youth. I was a last minute replacement, and despite me having to bring my own equipment, it wasn't too big of a hassle. I even found a parking space half a block from the arts center.
The kids were fun and cute, but suffered from the same afflictions that the folks at the gig last weekend and the folks at the LCCP gig in the winter -- too interactive. I don't mind trying to accomadate some requests, but I prefer they be in a form like a piece of paper. I hate people trying to talk to me while I'm working, and also their response when I tell them "no I don't have that song". Or at least not with me. I guess I hate the idea that people are telling me how to do my job, which is always a pet peeve. I hate that people think being a DJ is easy, or that I'm not paying attention or that I don't know what I'm doing or that THEY know a better way to do it. I gave them very little attitude though, since after all, they're kids.
A few of them totally endeared themselves to me. They had a voting for prom king and queen. Except there was four categories -- male queen, male king, female queen, female king. And the girl who won the category of "male queen" was absolutely beautiful and charming and charasmastic and her alter ego was "Whitney" so she asked that I play a Whitney song when she wins, "because I know I'm going to win this, honey, and I really really want to!" I was happy to help the experience.
There were also two young extremely handsome latino boys who came up and requested meringue music. Then Madonna. Then Missy Elliot. Then one of them said, "uh, my friend across the courtyard, uh, he wanted me to ask you if you were gay." I smiled politely and say, "yeah. yeah, I'm bisexual." They nodded and said oh, okay. Then he said "are you single?" I'm sure I blushed outwardly, because my first thought was flattery but also alarms since I'm sure these kids were 17 or 18. So I said "No, I'm not." Which isn't a lie, but I wasn't sure I wanted to discuss my open relationship with them.
All in all, the evening went very smoothly, we left the building at 10:15 (much earlier than expected) I packed the car, drove my friends home, got home, showered, and was in bed asleep by the time MelRo called at 11:30 to tell me she arrived safely. I'm sorry I missed to talking to her, but I'm not sorry I was asleep
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Date: 2002-05-26 07:01 pm (UTC)The writing on the back of this Polaroid says: "MORP 1989 April 21." I am in the lower left corner. (Don't you like how the two gals in front were the ones who didn't dress for the event? Stupid bitches.) This wasn't the year I won, I won in 1990. Of course, I have no proof of that. But it happened. It was the first and only time in high school that I was rewarded at a social event.