The Virginian-Pilot
                             THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT 
              Copyright (c) 1997, Landmark Communications, Inc.

DATE: Thursday, January 30, 1997            TAG: 9701290158
SECTION: SUFFOLK SUN             PAGE: 06   EDITION: FINAL 
TYPE: COVER STORY 
SOURCE: BY FRANK ROBERTS, STAFF WRITER
DATELINE: FRANKLIN                          LENGTH:  127 lines

A ROCKIN' JOB DURING THE DAY, WES ALEXANDER WORKS AS AN AGRICULTURAL AGENT. BUT AT NIGHT, HE IS SHORT CIRCUIT, THE DJ.

The Southampton County Cooperative Extension Agent has some sound advice: Balance your farm budget, eliminate crop destroying pests, check peanuts for disease, and dance the Macarena.

Wes Alexander provides the farm information and the dance advice. When the sun goes down he leaves farms and fields for the dance floor, shifting from agricultural agent to disc jockey.

His nom de dance is Short Circuit.

The dancemeister's equipment includes colored lights whose beams twirl, and that old dance hall staple, the mirror ball.

Alexander, a farm agent for 18 years and a disc jockey for two, has a collection of 500 CDs. That's a lot of stepping.

``I have to purchase CDs constantly,'' he said. ``I belong to three music clubs. It's still expensive.''

Alexander needs plenty of music because he stays busy.

``I worked every Friday and Saturday in December,'' he said. ``One job usually leads to another.''

The daytime job gives Alexander the opportunity to ``help farmers make their operations more profitable.''

``I work on crop budgets, on helping keep the cost of production as low as possible,'' he said. ``During the growing season, I identify pests and recommend treatment. I check diseases, usually in peanuts.

``I disseminate information from Virginia Tech, and I write newsletters,'' said Alexander, who also stays busy working on some rental properties he owns.

``He is a workaholic,'' said his wife, LeeAnn, whose job is also farm related. She is an administrator with the Farm Service Agency.

While their employes are different - hers is federal, his is state - their music tastes are similar. Both like country and rock.

How did a nice, clean-cut farm agent become a human juke box.

``It began when I did 4-H and birthday parties for free,'' said Alexander, who does weddings, birthdays and anniversary parties as well as school dances.

Recently, they played before their youngest audience yet - 4th- and 5th-graders at Windsor Elementary School.

About 100 boys and girls, representing about half the grades involved, gathered in the cafeteria for ``Kids Night Out.''

``My favorites,'' Alexander said, ``are 13-year-olds. They like the same kind of music - they're the most fun.''

His wife remembers one middle school that strictly dictated the type of music to be played. ``Only three slow songs were allowed all night,'' LeeAnn said.

Alexander usually tries to follow a format.

``We have a system. We work our way up - increase the beat. Each record is faster than the one before,'' he said. ``We get to about the fourth record and go to slow. Then, we change to rhythm and blues, and country.''

At Windsor Elementary, the format went down the tubes as Alexander constantly honored requests from the eager youngsters.

``It's the hardest dance we ever played. I liked it,'' LeeAnn said.

``They're having a good time,'' said her husband. ``That's the bottom line.''

Alexander usually helps the good times roll by offering prizes to dancers married the longest, working at their jobs the longest, and so on. This time, there were drawings every 30 minutes, the winners rewarded with stuffed toys.

During the rest of the time, Short Circuit works the crowd - urging them to ``get out there and dance.''

Everyone, regardless of age, obeys when he plays a Macarena song.

Alexander has three versions of the song. ``I don't care how slow a dance is going,'' he said, ``but pop in a Macarena and everyone is ready to go.''

The Windsor children also were ready to go when he dipped into his oldies file for ``YMCA'' by The Village People.

``This is from the 1970s,'' Alexander told them. ``It was popular when I was your age.''

It is still popular - the kids crowded the floor, knew every step.

But pop in some hearts `n' flowers stuff and the floor becomes almost as bare as Mother Hubbard's cupboard.

A few boys and girls do get on the floor and dance, braving the stares of their classmates, utilizing a style that is a work of art, a ``method'' that seems to be copyrighted by their age group.

The youngsters move slowly around, almost at arm's length, moving back and forth, back and forth, swaying like soldiers who have had to stand at attention too long.

The Windsor Elementary dance began with the theme from ``Mission Impossible.''

It seemed appropriate. The boys stayed on one side, girls on the other, separated by an invisible wall.

Some boys did get out on the dance floor, but only to chase each other or show off their cartwheel expertise.

Bryce Beale, a rather typical 10-year-old said, ``I like the slow dances. I like dancing with girls.''

Still, like most of his friends, he did more watching than dancing.

``I just like being with friends,'' said 10-year-old Dustin Carr. That explains a good part of the reason for the night's success. It was an opportunity to socialize with their school pals in an atypical school activity.

Ten-year-old Brandy Brinkley summed up the mood of the evening.

``The dance was great. I wanted to dance with boys, but they don't ask me and I won't ask them,'' she said.

``The dance is nice,'' said 10-year-old Patricia Jones. ``The music is romantic.''

There was romance in and on the air when Mr. Short Circuit asked Mrs. Short Circuit for a dance.

``I don't get paid for the work,'' LeeAnn said, ``but I get to dance for free.''

Usually Alexander's patrons have fun, but there are rare exceptions.

``I remember once when no one danced,'' LeeAnn said. ``It was a school reunion. People hadn't seen each other for 20 years so they just stood around and talked.''

Alexander seldom stands still. He works the crowd - sometimes getting on the floor with them, encouraging them to dance, dance, dance.

It's a world apart from farm pests and diseases, agricultural budgets and wordy newsletters. ILLUSTRATION: Staff photos including color cover by MICHAEL KESTNER

Agricultural agent Wes Alexander sorts through his collection of CDs

looking for the right song to play for a group of elementary

students.

Fourth and fifth grad students at Windsor Elementary Schhol sway to

the music of a slow song.

Patricia Jones dances to the music provided by Short Circuit, the

stage name for agricultural agent Wes Alexander when he works as a

DJ.

Wes Alexander said the biggest benefit of his job moonlighting as DJ

is taking his wife, LeeAnn, for a spin around the dance floor.


by CNB