DJ RUN

Shrine Auditorium

Los Angeles, CA

February 28, 2001

Photo refused by: DJ Run

I used to like this guy.

I’d been a fan since 1983 when he and his friends introduced themselves to the world as Run-DMC. Back then he called himself DJ Run and along with his two friends, DMC and Jam Master Jay, they became one of the most influential rap groups in history. Almost 20 years later he’s still rapping, but he’s also a practicing minister who now calls himself Reverend Run.

I was with a friend at what was referred to as a black-tie or after-five-attire event. This left the dress code open to creative interpretation. We were at The 15th Annual Soul Train Music Awards where the guys were looking sharp and most of the ladies were wearing gowns that were too sexy for a Sunday. Fortunately for all, it was only a Wednesday.

Waiting for the show to begin, I was admiring the guests as they entered the auditorium. My seat was close to the stage so most of the action was happening behind me until Run appeared near the end of our row. Wow! Rapper or reverend, Run is a legend. This was huge.

He wanted to squeeze into the row ahead of ours to get to his seat, but before he could take one step my eager friend caught his attention. “Hey Run!! Could you do us a favor?” Not smiling, he replied, “Yeah,” and glanced at me. I didn’t want to yell my idea over the heads of six people so I smiled and said, “I’ll tell you when you sit down.” He said okay then turned his back to us and wedged himself through the row plopping down in the empty seat right in front of me. He might as well have been placed in my lap. This was meant to be.

He was wearing DJ Run’s signature black fedora, called The Godfather Hat. This should have been a clue that I was dealing with the rapper and not the reverend but at that point, I didn’t know there was a difference. I waited patiently for him to turn around and listen to my proposal like he said he would six seats ago, but that never happened. Instead, he sat comfortably with his arm around a young girl, totally ignoring me. And now his iconic hat was blocking my view of the stage. Thanks a lot, Run.

After several minutes of stewing, I decided that if he was going to pretend like we’d never spoken I was going to follow his lead and start from the beginning, so I tapped him on the shoulder. He casually turned his ear as if he were driving a car and had to keep his eyes on the road.

Smiling and pleasant on the outside, I said, “Hi.” I paused just long enough to fit remember me and continued, “This is kinda weird, but I have a celebrity photo album.” The cupcake he was sitting with was now interested in an insecurely protective way. I continued, “It’s just a bunch of pictures of me taken by celebrities. Will you take my picture?” He turned his ear to me just a bit more so now he was looking at his friend to the right. They were suspicious.

“You want me to take the picture?” “Yeah!” I said.“You mean, like, you want me to push the button?” he asked. “Mmm-hmmm,” I hummed. He mistakenly jumped to the conclusion that I must be out of my Goddamn mind and responded accordingly, “Nah! Nah. I’m not doing that. Hell nah!” He quickly flashed the back of his hand as if to swat a buzzing fly and turned back around.

I was surprised to hear a Christian minister tossing around such language—and with an attitude to boot. I could only guess that The Lord was not going to be too pleased with this behavior. In fact, I was thinking I should probably move so I didn't get hit by the bolt of lightning that was coming to strike him down. But he carried on with no supernatural repercussions, suggesting again that this had to be DJ Run I was speaking to and not the reverend.

Months earlier, I’d decided that if a celebrity refused to take my picture I’d take a photo of them as they walked away, for example, just to put a cap on the end of our story. So when Run turned away from me, I quickly snapped a photo of the back of his head with his unmistakable hat and Phat Farm branded jacket.

The flash got their attention. Maybe they were on edge about the possible lightning bolt as well. It made his group reevaluate their position and after talking quietly amongst themselves, his friend turned back to me. He actually made eye contact and said, “You said you wanted him to take a picture of you, right?” I smiled.“Right,” thinking maybe now the clouds had parted up in their row. “Nah. Nah. Fuck that! Nah.” He spun back around.

This was starting to get comical.

Just then, the show began. For hours we watched celebrities present awards to other celebrities. And even though people were taking pictures, I sat quietly with my hands folded and watched the show like a good little parishioner.

Run and I did not exchange words between pews anymore that night. At one point, he stood up and waved his ample tush in the faces of the people sitting next to him as he exited his row to go perform on stage with the group Jagged Edge. He had a guest verse in the song Let’s Get Married, and from what I could tell he was wearing a clerical collar for that. It was a great performance, but I would have been much more entertained if I hadn’t just experienced him being so unlikable.

Days later I was surprised to find that, after all that, there was no film in my camera. Apparently, capturing this moment in time was not part of God’s plan. So to complete our story, here’s a drawing of what my photo would have looked like. This is Run ignoring me.

Even though Run was incredibly rude and dismissive, I’m still a big fan of his music. I wish him all the best, a long life, and good health. That said, he might want to see a doctor because I noticed he had a swollen ego and that’s never good. Hopefully, by now he's had that checked.