Happy Birthday Tomorrow, Jam Master Jay

In 1998 I went to St. Louis for a rap-filled weekend. There was a show at this tiny club that I can’t remember the name of, but it was smaaaall, and Common, who had just recently dropped the “Sense” from his name, was performing. At one point he looked at me and said “I will see you later at the strip club” and I’m not sure what he meant by that.

Another mysterious thing he kept saying was that there were special guests on the bill and I’m sure everyone but me already knew who. Then, suddenly, just as his set was ending, I GOT HIT WITH THE MOST SEVERE CASE OF FOOD POISONING IN MY LIFE TO DATE from the Denny’s we had before the show. (Ball so hard.) Eventually I decided the club bathroom was making me sicker, so I leave. Naturally, as I hit the front door, I run smack dab into freakin’ Run DMC. Run DMC, you guys. I apologized to the entire entourage that I couldn’t stay because I was sick (as IF anyone cared or wanted to hear me talk) and someone said “Bless your heart.” I handed my camera to my friend as I left and he snapped this photo of Jam Master Jay while I threw up in the back of my van all night. (Yes, I have it in a scrapbook. Yes, I used to drive a van. Yes, it was nicknamed “The Stabbin’ Cabin.”) That is the end of my non-story that is just an excuse to say “Happy Birthday!” to Jam Master Jay tomorrow. I wish you weren’t dead.

Update: Galaxy? Does that sound like a way-too-small venue for Run DMC? I think it was called Galaxy. Help me out, St. Louis.