Yes, yes, Sasha and John Digweed killed at Winter Music Conference, Tisto's parties are great fun if you can get in, and Desyn Masiello and the guys in Deep Dish are hot. These turntablists and many, many others make Miami a DJ mecca. Yet even though these elite are in Miami frequently, they are not from Miami and are just as likely to be in Amsterdam, Los Angeles, or Buenos Aires as they are at Space. You're not going to run into them in the produce aisle at Publix; they're not going to buy you a drink after you fight with your boyfriend at Glass. This cannot be said of Deejay Smeejay, who is in the house and in full effect every day and every night right here in our city (and who will get you that vodka tonic before the first tear smears your Manic Panic mascara). Smeejay has what you might call "residencies" at the Marlin and at Automatic Slim's, and he plays lots and lots of private parties for everyone from jewelry emporium Teno to Ocean Drive magazine. His playlist varies depending on the venue, his clients' instructions, and his mood (he sometimes reads the New York Post during particularly introverted sets). But Smeejay is the real deal, a guy who came up through the days of mixing twelve-inch vinyl of the Barkays and Danse Society with each disc's beats per minute marked in red ink on the label. He has easily segued to digital with nary a second of nostalgia, keeping him a viable player. And Smeejay is happy to share; he regularly dances his ass off at clubs all around town, giving love and appreciation to today's superstar DJs as well as lending a hand to the up-and-comers. Oh, yeah, and he donates his talents each year to the White Party and other charities benefitting those less fortunate. Rock on, Deejay Smeejay.