Friday, June 10, 2011

"Having a Good Time?"

Dances I play have a break around the half-way point to socialize and get refreshments. I try to walk around the floor and ask dancers, "Are you having a good time?" My goal is to shake hands with every single person on the floor. I make another pass at the end of the night.

Mostly, I'm just doing PR, breaking down the dancer/band barrier, and trolling for gigs.

"Do you play weddings?"

"Could you do the Westminster Dance in June?"

To, "You guys sound really good tonight," I say, "Please tell Teri. She booked us." Never hurts to have the dancers tell the dance organizer that they like you.

Once in a while, I hear a specific, useful "No." Folks who're hesitant to come up to the stage with advice will speak right up if you actually ask them what they think.

"I couldn't hear out where the tune started for that last dance."

"The dances are too slow."

The same's true for requests.  They'll ask "Could you do a swing tune at the end of the break?" or "Will you be playing a Hambo?" Knowing what they want is better than trying to guess.


If I can, I'll also meander around the floor while the caller's teaching, to the back of the room, the sides, and up and down the hall between lines, listening to sound levels. If I can't to that, or if something changes, mid-dance, dancers will still sometimes clue me in when I ask.


"We can't hear the caller at the back of the hall."

"Is the fiddler's mike on?"

I hear, "Have you been to these dances before," so often that I've learned to carry my instrument. Some dancers don't even look at the band and wonder why a stranger is coming up to them to ask whether they're having a good time. If I'm holding a mandolin, it gives them a hint.


Sometimes, it's not a big enough hint.

I really hear, "Do you have a partner for the next dance?" a few times a year. I smile and answer something like, "I can't imagine anyone I'd rather dance with, but the rest of the band would miss me so." Scott Mathis tells me he was once asked to dance while he was carrying his guitarron.  Her response is typically an embarrassed, "Oh. You're in the band?"


I could either be indignant that she's not paying attention to who's making all that great music on stage, or be extremely flattered because she thinks I'm so good looking that she doesn't even notice what I'm holding.  I always, always, always choose the latter.