DJ Jazzy Jay

I was very excited to be living in NYC after having spent probably one year too long in Washington, DC. Part of my excitement and optimism arose from having a music industry job with a label in NYC. It wasn't a rock label or a label representing a genre of music I knew a lot about - but it was a new opportunity and I was eager to make it work. Arkadia Jazz was a relatively small jazz label with a very recognizable name. Every time I mentioned to someone that I was working for "Arkadia Jazz" or "Arkadia Records" I would usually get a knowing nod and contemplative look from my listener followed by a "Yes, I think I've heard of them". This could not be possible since the label promoted strictly jazz and vintage pop vocals acts and none of my friends were into these types of music.

One of the biggest trade shows of the year for Jazz labels was an international convention produced by IAJE (International Association of Jazz Educators). For the first time in a few years this national conference was going to be held in NYC and the buzz had been building for this event ever since I started at Arkadia in July of '97. With IAJE slated for the following spring I was sufficiently psyched. But when the first day of the event came I started to feel sick. A few cold-like symptoms, maybe some achy-ness but nothing major. I would steel myself with soup and Vitamin C and just power through it. This approach worked for the first day (really just a half day meant to give attendees a chance to register) but by the first full day I was not right. I was starting to feel a little dizzy and at times felt like I was seeing double. My mind was like a sieve and I had to really concentrate on the most simple of tasks or I might drift off into some hallucinatory reverie (not an ideal state for a trade show). I attended a couple of panels, one of which required me to stand the whole time and as a result I couldn't manage to stay through the entire thing. Aside from general networking and some panels, Arkadia also had an exhibit booth at which I was expected to function as a retail salesclerk as well as meet customers and mingle with co-workers. The exhibit area floor was quite large and bustling with activity. My cold-like symptoms had grown into full-blown flu-like symptoms by this time but I held fast and forced myself to work though it. I was writing up orders for the CDs and videos we had brought to sell and it took every ounce of concentration left in my being to get the order quantities, item numbers and credit card information correct. I never heard about erroneously processed orders so somehow I must have done ok.

With no appetite but knowing that I must eat something I went to a nearby Roy Rogers for some Chicken Soup. Somehow I couldn't get the soup down and it kind of looked funny to me as well. The broth seemed heavier than it should've been and disturbingly mucous-like. Unable to stomach the soup I returned to the conference. But the level of concentration required and my overall physical state seemed to be making me sweat and hallucinate even more. At one point during a lull in the activity at our booth I turned to the label's CEO's wife and while pointing to a nearby table said
"Hey, isn't that Doc Severinsen over there?"
I followed my own gaze just to make sure I was seeing things correctly and the man to whom I was pointing had similar hair but the rest of him.....ehhhh maybe it was 50/50.
Our CEO's wife looked where I was pointing and kind of dismissed me with an unconvincing "Huh" and then went back to what she was doing. Perhaps I had hallucinated the entire thing and was subconsciously expecting to see famous figures from the world of jazz around every corner.

Later we took one of our artists, the esteemed Dr. Billy Taylor, out to dinner at a nearby Asian restaurant. While the conversation was vibrant and a select group of my co-workers were reveling in Dr. Taylor's stateliness, I began sweating bullets profusely. Stupidly I thought no one would notice until Frank Tafuri our label General Manager and part time opera singer looked at me and remarked,
"You're not looking well at all. You should go home."
At first I was embarrased but then I suddely realized that I was being irrational and I quickly said my good-byes and went home, thinking I'd be better in the morning.

But the next morning I was not much better. With some crazy feeling of being indestructable and not wanting to let anything hold me back I returned to the Marriott Marquis in Times Square (site of IAJE) and showed up back at the booth. After about an hour, Jerrold Miller our Promotions Director looked at me and said
"You don't look so good, you should go home. I'll tell Bob"
By this time I was painfully sick and had absolutely no resistance to the idea of leaving. Bob Karcy, our CEO was nearby and by the time I had packed up my things and decided to move on, I was able to tell him I was leaving and so bad my appearance must have been that he seemed to quickly agree with the idea of my going home.

By this time the physical pain was immense but when I returned to my apartment via cab I found that I didn't have a thermometer, or any medication to take. I walked to Gristede's a supermarket nearby thinking they would have these items. My judgement, however, even on foot seemed to be impaired because when I crossed 86th Street to get to the market I found myself swerving into the path of the westbound M86 bus.

When I looked around Gristede's I realized that this was a bad idea and headed home as they did not have what I needed. But by this time my energy level was completely empty and I couldn't manage a walk to the nearest CVS. Luckily, since this was NYC, anything could be delivered, so I called CVS and placed an order. My temperature turned out to be 104.