Salt Lake does have some cool bohemian events now and again. One thing I try to make it to is the Gallery Stroll. It happens every third Friday of every month. All the art galleries in Salt Lake stay open late and host openings for different artists.
There are all sorts of visual art, live music, and finger-food, hipsters milling in and out, some older artsy folks, writers, poets, disaffected youth, and some naughty behavior in the shadows of the gallery light.
One place I always try to visit is the Copper Palate Press. I dig it there because they always have a live DJ spinning records on multiple turntables. A little while back, after I'd acquired the turntables, a mixer, and a variety of vinyl, I hit up the folks at Copper Palate and asked them if I could DJ.
It was Davey, the guy who usually DJs down there; he lent me an ear and convinced the others at this "collective" to let me spin. He showed me the set up he was using that night and let me know I could run my gear through their PA and speakers and if I needed to use any of his gear it was cool. And I got a date, booked for the next gallery stroll, all thanks to DJ Davey.
I still remember that first time I made music for fellow humans, I was scared to death. But from the moment I showed up that night, those old school hipsters took me under their wings and helped me set up. More importantly, they encouraged me and kept reminding me not to sweat it, to enjoy the process. DJ Davey kept talking about "the process",
"It's all about the process of making music." "Just enjoy the process of making art, nothing else matters, makes those tables dance." "Viva el processo!"
The "Ol' schoolers" were into the mix of Mambo / Mexican Hip-Hop / strange uncopyrighted movie score music / Drum and Bass / and a bit of electronic scratch pad I was blending into the mix that night.
After my first show Davey kept asking me where I got all the obscure Mexican vinyl. I got the sense that I could tell him that I was from DF and he suddenly lit up. Davey had lived in DF for a few years too (I always wonder if he'd gone on a Mormon mission there) and he gave me a big "Chilango" hug.
We became close friends, he was like my DJ Uncle Davey, always looking out for me and pushing me to become a better DJ. He knows more about vinyl and music than anyone I've ever met. He's taught me a lot, by just going off about various things; he has a deep sense of history and he's always bringing up these interesting facts.
I remember when I first met him, he went off about the history of the copper palate press that was the centerpiece of the gallery / workspace. Then he went into the history of the printing press and then about printing presses in in Mexico. He said Mexico City had printing pressed running before anything was printing here up north.
"In Mexico City they had fifty printing presses up and running when the early colonies of the United States obtained their first printing press."
Like why don't more people know this stuff? And how did Davey find out about it?
These histories are ironic to me because a lot of people up here treat me like I'm stupid. Like I'm uneducated. Like I'm below them. Like they're somehow better that me. I still can't figure out why. But I'm never giving-in to that kind of ignorant, arrogant, insecure degradation - and please don't rewrite my history, don't misrepresent my culture, don't scapegoat our people. I'm proud of who I am and where I come from and no one will ever take that away from me.
YOU ARE READING
MC Quixote
General FictionThis story is about a fifteen year old moving from Mexico to the United States with her deaf father. She experiences many challenges and turns to writing songs and creating music to overcome the difficulties of moving to a new culture while growing...
