The year was 2004 (or was it 2005 by that time?). I was at a nearly-monthly “open mic” night at a friends house in Murfeesboro. For those not in the know, Murfreesboro is a loud siren’s distance from Nashville, the music city. So, you gotta be aware that the level of talent at this shindig was not-so-amateur.
Being a musician, I went ahead and signed up for a spot on the list that was being passed around. I signed up after a guy named Charlie Murphey. Sounded harmless enough. Shouldn’t be a tough act to follow.
A few minutes later, Charlie lumbered up on stage, but as he was taking a seat, I noticed that the guitar he was holding apeared to just be an extension of his arms. He was so comfortable carrying it through a crowd He didn’t even have to think about it. I soon learned why: he had spent plenty of time with that instrument on his lap.
That’s when I learned a life-lesson. Never sign up at an open mic after a guy who you have not heard play. Especially if you are in central Tennessee.
I’d like to introduce you to Charlie. Seems the marketing folks got ahold of him and “Murphey” is now “Hardin.” Check him out at CharlieHardin.com and tell him I sent you.