Since 1985 DJ Doug has been in the DJ business. His roots reach deep into helping each of his clients celebrate a night of a lifetime. He has performed at literally thousands of parties for groups as small as 20 to venues of 10,000. ::more::
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Howard Magazine
Doug Sandler recalls feeling pretty cocky as he boarded his flight to New Orleans for an all-expense-paid weekend as entertainer at an upscale Bar Mitzvah in the nation's jazz capital.
He didn't know many disc jockeys who were flown halfway across the country to work a party. Yes, sir, he thought, he was making a beeline straight to the top.
But then something unexpected happened at the party. He couldn't engage the crowd. Kids started throwing food. THey wouldn't listen to him. It was, in a word, a disaster.
"I retreated to my turntable. Crawled into my own little world. I played music and prayed for it to be over," he says.
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Slate Magazine
I was getting ready for my gig as a "motivational dancer" at a bar mitzvah party when my daughter, who at age 14 has just completed her year on the bar and bat mitzvah circuit, decided to give me some advice. "Don't do this," she said, as she shook her torso in a shimmy. "And don't do this," she said, bouncing to the pony. "And whatever you do, don't do this," she said, passing her first two fingers in a V across her eyes (think John Travolta's dance scene in Pulp Fiction). Banning my entire repertoire was necessary, she explained, "because your old-people moves are going to make everyone uncomfortable." Read more...
Ellicott City Review
Doug Sandler has already acheived one of his life's main ambitions. THe father of two young adolescents, not only is he doing a job he loves, but his work is even considered cool by his kids.
"I know all the music. I'm hip to my daughter, and she's almost 14," he said. "I don't think that I'm an embarrassment to my kids, which has been my lifelong goal."
Most teenagers think that their parents are anything but cool, but Sandler does have a leg-up on other Howard County parents with teens at home.
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On the Cover of the Washington Post
My family knew I was losing it when I started growing grass.
No, not the mind-altering kind. Not even the suburban homeowner kind. I was growing wheatgrass to use in centerpieces for my daughter's bat mitzvah. A bat mitzvah -- bar mitzvah for boys -- marks the entry of 13-year-olds into Jewish adulthood. It has also evolved -- mutated might be more accurate -- into the occasion for a celebratory extravaganza.
Which explains the wheatgrass: Despite my determination to resist, I found myself caught in the iron grip of bat mitzvah mania. Read more...