Donate to DJ Rated R’s recovery fund

Trent Reznor hates Sacramento, but not its ladies.

Trent Reznor hates Sacramento, but not its ladies.

Photo By Alia Cruz

Last night a deejay saved my life: And now it’s your turn. Last week, at the beginning of the Brown Skin Tour that touched down in the Philippines, Sacramento’s DJ Rated R (Ron Florente) knew something wasn’t right. The knots in his stomach could have been chalked up to the nervous energy of being overseas, outside of his comfort zone—but that wasn’t it. The butterflies derived from his distrust of the janky tour van he was provided. But against his better judgment, he got in anyway. The van was so sketchy that Rated R text-messaged his friends back in Sacramento, saying that he had a really bad feeling. “They were on some mountainous road and the van’s brakes went out,” explained DJ Nocturnal (Christopher Jaime), one of the recipients of R’s several texts. “The van hit two trees and flipped over. R was ejected from the vehicle.”

The accident (which happened about 10 minutes outside of Baguio City) left tour mates J. Rockit, Runt Rock, Kat and Wenn with minor cuts and scratches (not a pun), but R wasn’t so lucky. The deejay suffered a massive concussion, neck injuries and a laceration on his head, and when he arrived at the hospital, doctors had to drill into his skull to alleviate fluid buildup in his brain. R was listed in critical condition, but after two surgeries his condition stabilized. Now, according to friends, he’s walking around and on his way to a full recovery.

Ask anyone who knows R and they’ll tell you that he’s been one of the friendliest, most enthusiastic and talented people they’ve known. He’s provided cuts for many groups (including his own Live Manikins) in Sacramento, and he’s been a positive figure who is rapidly increasing the reputation of Sacramento’s tight-knit hip-hop community.

But with any life-altering accident, there are sure to be life-altering monetary consequences. There will be a few benefit shows to come, but for now, please donate anything you can afford to (find the “Donate” tab) to ensure the safe, happy return of Sacramento’s favorite deejay. (Josh Fernandez)

Improvised affection: D.M.P.H.’s group hug at Javalounge’s improv-music night Monday. Left to right: Derek Monypeny (parties hard), Kevin “Ursula” Corcoran and Chad “Here’s My License” Stockdale.

Photo By Shoka

News from the CUF: Just in time, Pete Bettencourt of the CUF alerts us that his solo album Beans and Rice will be available Friday, December 19. The album release party will be that night at The Distillery (2107 L Street) at 10 p.m. The show features the CUF, Z-Man and DJ Larry “the Flower Vato” Rodriguez. Call (916) 443-8815 for cover. Be there to buy a copy of Beans and Rice for your brother, sister and cousin. And your mama (you know she wants it). (J.F.)

The soundtrack of your jolly, mindful little life: Happiness is an evasive little shit, as we all know. Some people, like therapists, emphasize staying in “the present,” which is both New Age but sage, especially when it comes to sounds: While in the present, always be mindful of everyday noise.

And since sounds are seasonal, it’s imperative nowadays to tune into things like the slushy whiz of tires rolling over wet asphalt, which reminds of showers—shivering, dirty, you-forgot-to-pay-PG&E showers. On the drier side, the sticky, wet smack of sneaker soles against marble lobby floors is probably enough to drive receptionists across the globe to post-work binge drinking. Slap, slap, slap—it’s like a cold palm striking a hot ass. Where’s the Cazadores?

Oh, sorry. Mindfulness should be G-rated, right?

Anyway, there are people who just love winter sounds, like the swish of corduroy inseams rubbing or the unzipping of layer upon layer of coats and hoodies. But enough about crotches and undressing; how about some slurps?

Over at Shoki Ramen House (2675 24th Street), their menu encourages the vociferous sucking of Japanese noodles, which is awesome. Nibble on a bit of chashu, or pork, glug some housemade broth and suck those noodles down. The entire experience sounds a lot like this: mwunch, pssssooout, wooolt, gulp.

And, of course, even the Buddha occasionally farted. Now that’s Zen. (Nick Miller)