Last week, I got to play with the wondrous women of Missing Mandy at Hotel Andaluz. Every time I play with these ladies, it’s a fantastic time – full of laughter and music and laughter and a little alcohol and laughter. Did I mention laughter?
To help illustrate that, let me tell you a story.
As was often the case when we played at Andaluz, the crowd was made up of two distinct groups of people. The first group consisted of fans. Of course there were fans of Missing Mandy and hONEyhoUSe – folks who are super excited any time these ladies are playing in Albuquerque. There were also fans of Hillary Smith – folks who come to see her no matter which of the eleventy-twelve bands she happened to be performing with that night. And there were fans of music in general – folks who weren’t sure who was playing that night, but they knew someone good would be there.
The other group consisted of random folks… some of whom were staying at the hotel, some of whom were just there to eat at the restaurant or eat at the bar, and some of whom had simply been walking by and heard the music.
All these folks were gathered around us as we played. We were playing groovy music – stuff that made everybody sing as loudly as they could while dancing as hard as they could. As the night progressed, and the alcohol flowed, inhibitions began to go the way of the dodo… always a fun time!
There was one little gang of ladies who belonged to the second crowd. They weren’t necessarily fans of ours – they were fans of partying. Visualize five inebriated forty-somethings who were having a really good time dancing to some groovy 70s or 80s tune. Suddenly, it was time to play “Brick House,” and these women went nuts. Their dancing had already been entertaining – but when this song started, they got serious, bumping & grinding like their lives depended on it.
Then it was time for me to take a solo. I started out fairly gently, but soon the Hammond was screaming – trying to keep up with the crowd. As is often the case when I’m concentrating a little, my eyes were closed… so I was a bit surprised when I felt a hand start rubbing my shoulder. I opened my eyes, and saw that this little tipsy dance party had gathered around the keyboard, and the two or three who were closest to me were writhing up and down, rubbing my shoulder, messing with my hair – basically throwing their best drunken seductive dance moves in my direction.
I’ll admit that it was a tad distracting, but it wasn’t really tempting. I’m in crazy love with my wife, who was just a few feet away, laughing hysterically at my probably obvious discomfort. She wasn’t at all angry or jealous – it was clear that these ladies didn’t even really see me… they were just caught up in a haze of booze & tunes.
However, these ladies didn’t count on Hillary Smith.
Do you know her? I don’t think you could meet a more fiercely loyal and protective person. She saw what was happening, and started watching them like a hawk – and as soon as my solo was over, she stepped up to the mic and gave me props. “Mikey Cunningham on the keys! He’s a bad man, y’all!” Then she turned directly toward the little dance party and added “Oh, and did I mention that he’s married?? And that his wife is right there??” Everyone who had been close enough to see what was happening started laughing – and we finished the song to the accompaniment of a raucous laugh track.
It was a great night! Playing with Hillary Smith is always exciting – never boring!