The Nashville Full-Moon Picking Party

May 10th, 2012

Chris Henry

There are so many different musical situations in Nashville. Often times I find myself surrounded by the best of the world-class professionals, and many other times I like to jam with folks who just do it for fun. There is an event right outside of town called the Full Moon Pickin’ Party, and it was a continuation of a party that got started in the 80′s by our lawyer friend and bluegrass enthusiast, Ted Walker.

The party is located in a beautiful section of Percy Warner park and is attended by several hundred folks every full moon. They have a stage set up and bands play from about 7-11, but the main attraction for most of the folks that come is the jamming. It costs $20 for a regular adult admission, but only $5 if one shows up with a qualified musical instrument.

I rode with some friends and got to the park about 9:30 and walked in to see a whole lot of people had showed up as it was a very pleasant Friday evening with perfect weather and a huge Supermoon beaming beautifully overhead. I made the usual rounds and took in the lay of the land as it were.

Johnny Campbell, an ardent Bill Monroe style bluegrass fiddler was there with his dad, Bob, and we started off with “The Old Mountaineer”. I rarely get to play those tunes and so that was fun. We then played “The Lonesome Old Farmer”, a tune that I had learned off Johnny’s brother, Jimmy’s album that featured Monroe on the mandolin. Another fine moment.

My buddy Adam Olmstead, my favorite songwriter under 50, is visiting for a couple of months from New Brunswick, and we sang “Sweetheart of Mine”. That was the first song we ever sang together one night at the Station Inn about seven or eight years ago. He usually sings lead, but this night I rendered the verses and sang lead on the chorus. Next, we did the Delmore Brothers tune, “Here Today, Gone Tomorrow”, a good jam number that is easy to follow. Then I saw Ted Walker.

Ted and I visited and reminisced for a while until he said something to the effect of, “you better get back in there”. One of the party’s only drawbacks is that it ends promptly at 11pm and that’s right when a lot of people are just getting warmed up. So I took his advice and came back to assume my position in the jam.

I took a mandolin break on whatever was playing when I got back – I can’t remember. I dug in and played hard and loud and the crowd responded, and that was satisfying. We got through with that number and someone asked me to sing, so I thought quickly, then launched into the most recent tune I have learned, the Stanley Brothers’ “Paint the Town”.

I started the tune out by playing the verse and then I sang a verse and chorus to realize that it wasn’t a number the folks were very familiar with, and so when the break after the chorus came around, I went into “Say Won’t You Be Mine”, which I thought would be more familiar. I’ve had good luck switching tunes at the blink of a hat recently with my band, and I was feeling confident that the switch could be made easily. Wrong!!

At these parties, not only is it a little raucous with jams going on every ten feet or so, but the adults of 21 years have the opportunity to consume four complimentary beers with the price of admission. So, folks weren’t entirely sober to say the least. When I realized that half of the people were still playing the chords to the original song I had kicked off, I thought it would be a good idea to use my hands to show everybody what chords were in the new selection. Wrong!!

The first chord in “Say Won’t You Be Mine” is a G chord. It’s also what we call the “one” chord in the Nashville numbers system which is used on stage in tight spots but mostly in the studio to write chord charts for folks who have never heard or played the song being recorded before. When I raised my hand to communicate the “one” chord, two things happened: I had to quit playing the mandolin for a moment. and also, with my monodigital articulation, I inadvertently communicated to several that what I wanted was for people to stop playing, as in the one finger meant – “Hold on a second!”.

So with half of the people in the jam stopping, the momentum of the song had ceased, the song was awkwardly and uncomfortably ended, and I had earned another lesson in what not to do in that situation. Next time I will most likely, A) Play songs that I am quite certain will be more accessible(Rollin’ My Sweet Baby’s Arms, How Mountain Girls Can Love, etc.), and B) Don’t assume people are going to know what I am doing if I hold up a finger in hopes of communicating the right chords.

These are a couple of lessons that I am surprised I had not fully comprehended and put into practice, but it just goes to show, that in the thick of things, it’s easy to forget simple things that help avoid getting into a jam within a jam!

Harmony Singing Made Easy Trailer

April 20th, 2012

Now, we don’t usually do trailers for our DVDs, but for Harmony Singing Made Easy, since it’s our first foray into vocal instruction, we thought we should do something special:

TMM in Afghanistan

April 18th, 2012

Casey Henry

We received this picture from one of our students, Todd Chisum, who was just finishing up his deployment to eastern Afghanistan. We thought it was cool so we’re sharing it with you. We have quite a few students in the military overseas. (I do Skype lessons with one of them! Eight a.m. here is three p.m. where he is.) If any of you who in the military want to send shots of you with your banjo (or guitar, or mandolin, or what have you) we’d be glad to share them so the Murphy Method community can see our students around the world!

Todd Chisum

Todd Chisum with his banjo in Afghanistan. Looks like he's playing a mean version of "Banjo in the Hollow"!

Announcing: Harmony Singing Made Easy

April 4th, 2012

Harmony Singing Made Easy Cover

The Murphy Method, known world-wide for its “learn music by ear” teaching, now turns its attention to harmony singing. On Harmony Singing Made Easy we teach you to sing harmony by ear. It’s the easiest method ever.

 

On this brand new DVD, Murphy and friends Bill Evans, Janet Beazley, and Chris Stuart join together to sing some beautiful trios and quartets. First you hear the three (or four) voices blending together, then you hear each harmony part sung separately. You learn your part by singing along with us. With three separate parts to choose from, you can pick the one that best suits your voice.

 

One creative approach we have taken is that we sing several songs in three different keys so no matter what your vocal range (female or male, high or low) you can try your hand at singing the lead part. We provide keys to fit high voices, middle-range voices, and low voices. Sometimes the men (Bill, Chris) take the lead; sometimes the women (Murphy, Janet) take the lead. The harmony parts are then worked out to fit the lead voice. With the choice of three keys, you can also find a harmony part to suit your voice.

 

For instance, Murphy sings Will the Circle Be Unbroken in the key of A, while Janet adds the tenor part (above the lead) and Bill adds the baritone part (below the lead).
Then Janet sings the lead to Will the Circle in the key of C while Murphy adds the baritone (below the lead) and Bill provides the low tenor (below the baritone).

 

Finally Bill takes a turn singing the lead to Circle in the key of E (a pretty low key for this song) while Murphy adds the tenor (above the lead) and Janet comes in on the high baritone (above the tenor).

 

We also use this same approach—three different keys—for Bury Me Beneath the Willow and All the Good Times are Past and Gone.

 

For the song Don’t This Road Look Rough and Rocky we use just one vocal arrangement with Chris singing lead in the key of G while Murphy sings tenor and Bill adds the baritone. Amazing Grace and Over in the Gloryland are done as quartets so you bass singers can have a chance to get in on the action!

 

Along the way we offer some helpful hints such as “What key do I sing in?” “How do I find my harmony part?” and “How can I get a good blend?” At the very end Murphy and Bill break out their banjos for a rousing quartet version of Over in the Gloryland. Very entertaining!
If you’ve been wondering how to sing harmony, we’ve made it as easy as possible. Or as we say in Virginia, “It’s as easy as pie.”

 

Order your Harmony Singing Made Easy DVD today and join in the fun!

 

Songs: Will the Circle Be Unbroken, Bury Me Beneath the Willow, All the Good Times Are Past and Gone, Don’t This Road Look Rough and Rocky, Amazing Grace, Over in the Gloryland.

Custom Lesson Update

April 4th, 2012

Casey Henry

I was looking back at past blog posts and I realized it has been seven months since I updated you on what new custom lesson I’ve done lately. (Coincidentally, my son is now seven months old. Hmmm….) The rate I can get these done has decreased dramatically–to about one lesson per week, good grief! But I am working my way down my list very slowly. Here’s what’s new since the beginning of the year:

Of course, all these can be ordered straight from my website.

Earl Scruggs’ Memorial Service

April 2nd, 2012

Chris Henry

We knew that if we were going to get a good seat for Earl’s service at the Ryman Auditorium, getting there early was going to be a good idea. My girlfriend Sarah and I got there a little over an hour before 2pm, when it was scheduled to begin. I saw many bluegrass folks in a line for the friends and family entrance, and so we got in line behind our buddy David Grier and his father, Lamar, who was a banjo picker with Bill Monroe in the 60s. I had never met Lamar, but I have been hanging out a lot with David in the last year, picking and recording, so it was good to meet his dad.

About fifteen minutes later, the doors opened and we filed in and signed the guestbook. The floor was just starting to be filled with the people who were closer to Earl, and the balcony was open to the general public. After saying hello to Pete and Kitsy Kuykendall, and to Dan Hays, we got a seat right in front of the Griers. It was great because we had about an hour to wait, and between the Griers and Barbara Lamb (a great fiddler), there was enough levity to allow the time to pass quickly amongst the excellent people watching. The Griers were really funny to listen to. My favorite exchange was when banjo player Lamar kidded to his son David, “You’re probably going to like this today, it’ll be mostly banjo music.” Guitar-player David fired back, “But when that G-Run comes in it’s going to be like heaven!” On the pew next to the left, was Shawn Camp, and to the right on the next row was Alan O’Bryant and Sam Bush. It was good to see so many musicians there to honor the creator of the Big Twang. There were about ten very nice flower arrangements on the stage and Earl’s banjo was standing up in the middle of the front of the stage while his closed casket was on the floor out front.

Eddie Stubbs was presiding and did a great job of setting the dignified tone of the event. He was playing the parts of MC, preacher, and reminiscer. Earl’s regular preacher had not been able to attend because he was sick, so Eddie had the job of reading some Bible verses on comfort and talking about what a wonderful gift from God Earl was. Since so many of Earl’s career highlights had come at the Ryman, the family thought it would be the perfect place to have his memorial, and they wanted it to be broadcast live on WSM 650, the radio station that had catapulted Earl into international stardom in the middle and late 40s.

Del McCoury and his band were the first folks to come out and sing. He was the first to talk about what an inspiration Earl was to him. They went into Take me in a Lifeboat, and you could really tell the were putting their whole hearts into the music. As Del’s high tenor reverberated into the rafters of the Ryman, we were all beginning to realize the show was going to be special in that all the artists would be wanting to do their very best for Earl. All of the performances received standing ovations.

The next song was sung by Ricky Skaggs and the Whites. Ricky, who is so comfortable talking to an audience, told about when he was eight years old, and picking backstage at the Opry, how Earl had listened to him play and sing, and then invited his dad to bring him down to the television station for an audition to be on one of the Martha White Flatt and Scruggs shows. Ricky said “He didn’t have to do that, but he did.” One great example of a kind gesture that impacted country music in a large way with the beginning of Ricky’s professional career. Ricky asked for a show of hands to see how many banjo pickers were in the audience. As so many hands went up he commented about how God had planted so many seeds with the gift of Earl’s music. They sang Gone Home and I could definitely feel the spirit of the music all over when they sang the harmonies.

Bela Fleck came out after the Whites and did a solo banjo number. It was in a minor key and made use of the tuners in an interesting way. Afterwords, Bela read from his IPad some words he had written about Earl’s influence on him. He talked about “hearing the truth” for the first time as a young kid in Queens. He told a couple of great stories. The first was about Earl driving at night through Atlanta back in the day that there were exactly 90 stoplights going through the city. The rest of the band was asleep when Earl started seeing sparks coming off of a dragging tailpipe. He pulled over and got a tow truck to come. After the tow truck driver asked Earl to get in and steer the car as it was towed backwards, the rest of the band started to wake up. Earl took the opportunity to pretend he was sleeping, and slumped over the wheel! The second was about himself speeding through Nashville one day and getting pulled over. The officer came up to the window and recognized Bela. After a brief exchange, the officer asked Bela who the greatest banjo player in the world was. He answered Earl Scruggs. The officer said, “That’s right, now drive a little slower around here from now on.” The audience roared with laughter.

There was some video played of the Foggy Mountain Boys, demonstrating Earl’s unsurpassed creative and technical ability. It was good to see some clips of those old Martha White shows.

Charlie Daniels came out and spoke very nicely about getting his start in Nashville with the Earl Scruggs Revue. The reverence and respect with which he spoke was delivered with dignity and eloquence.

EmmyLou Harris sang a song and payed her respects.

John McEuen came out and spoke about his experiences with Earl. He said after he got the nerve to ask Earl to record on what would become the Circle album, he couldn’t sleep the whole night because he was so excited. John played a clawhammer version of Soldiers Joy, and then Jim Mills and Mike Bub joined him on the instrumental Carolina Traveler.

Eddie Stubbs delivered a wonderful eulogy that included talking about his love of family; how he attended his son’s baseball games; his religious commitment to Christianity; a wonderful personal memory of Earl telling Eddie he loved Lester; tidbits about Earl’s love for food; and how many medical problems Earl had had, including two bad automobile accidents and a plane crash. Eddie said that one time Earl asked him if he had been playing his fiddle, and Eddie replied that he had not been and was so out of practice he would be embarrassed to play it in Earl’s company. Earl replied “Well I’m the same way, why don’t you come over and we’ll practice!” Just another example of his humility and friendly good nature. After a quadruple bypass, Earl’s diet needed to change, but one time at a party he found some good salty peanuts on the table and he told Eddie as he was in between Louise’s line of sight to the table, “You stay right there, I don’t want Louise to see!” Eddie also related another time at a party that Earl said to him “I better get a piece of that pie just in case someone might ask me my opinion about it.”

Marty Stuart came out and played a little of You are my Flower on the guitar. For my money, there’s no more beautiful piece of music in bluegrass than that tune. Marty talked with his usual good humor and candor about going to do a soundtrack for a movie with Johnny Cash. Johnny asked him who would be a good fit for the banjo, and Marty suggested Earl. The movie company was from out west and so there was some disparity between the two styles of production, in that the westerners weren’t familiar with the Tennessee way and pace of doing things, and vice-versa. At one point while Earl was standing in front of a vending machine with a milk in one hand and a honey-bun in the other, the director flew out of the studio in an extremely agitated manner saying “The banjo player! The banjo player! We need the banjo player!” To which Earl calmly replied “If I see ‘im, I’ll tell ‘im you’re looking.” Again the audience rolled with laughter.

Marty had a great trio singing with him, as well as Del McCoury adding some powerful G-runs on his rhythm guitar. Who Will Sing for Me was the number that Marty led using some classic vintage Lester Flatt style intonation in his voice. He was placing the notes slightly flat in a way that brings out a captivating and dynamic energy – a technique seldom heard in today’s world of auto tune and American Idol. It was great.

The final song was introduced by Vince Gill. He was accompanied by Patty Loveless, Ricky Skaggs, and a piano player. In a very emotional way that brought tears welling up in his eyes, Vince spoke about how he had come to write the song and how the circumstances were similar in that his mom had to “lay down” a son as did the Scruggs family. He was able to pull through his emotions and sing very well.

At this point some closing words were spoken by Eddie, who did a wonderful job with the ceremony. On the ends of the middle pews was a banjo guard: Kristin Scott Benson, Bela, Trishka, O’Banyon, Sam Bush, Vince Gill, Noam Pikelny, Ned Lubereki, Dave Talbot, Charlie Cushman, Mike Bub, Tim O’Brien, and many others held their banjos in front of their faces like bluegrass marines as Earl’s casket was moved outside. As the casket passed, the adjacent rows of guards crossed the necks of the their banjos. It was a beautiful and perfect way for Earl to make his farewell. His banjo was then carried out of the mother church – from the place where Earl had changed the world and brought the five string banjo with “lightning in a bottle” to millions of listeners. It was a true celebration and fitting memorial for a person who picked and sang with grace, brought joy to millions, lived with humility, and was well loved.

Complete List of Custom Lessons Now Available

April 1st, 2012

Casey Henry

Apparently my list has now grown so long that the blog refuses to update it. So instead of putting the entire list here, I will link you to the list on my website. This has two up-sides: 1) I no longer have to update this list as well as the one on my site, and 2) You will conveniently already be on the page where you can place an order. So click the link below:

See The Complete List on My Website.

Earl Scruggs’ memorial service

April 1st, 2012

Don’t forget to listen to WSM at 2 PM Central Time today. Earl Scruggs’s memorial service at the Ryman Auditorium will be broadcast on the air, and also streamed on line!

Red

A Story About Earl

March 30th, 2012

Casey Henry

I wrote this story for Pickers In A Jam, the newsletter of the Banjo In The Hollow bluegrass club back in 1998 after seeing Earl play for the first time. I thought this would be an appropriate time to pull it out of the vault:

 

“Now gather in close here, children, and I’ll tell you a nice story before you have to go to bed,” the wizened old lady said to the brood of young kids she was proud to call her grandchildren. “It happened back in the year of nineteen and ninety-eight, nigh on

to sixty years ago, when I was a mere twenty years old. Rumors had been flying around like mad that the father of bluegrass banjo, Earl Scruggs, would be playing in person at a festival in Ohio. It was the only show he had played in years so all his fans and disciples made plans to make the trek over, no matter what the trouble or expense. People came from all over the United States and the world. Folks from Australia, England, and even Japan flew in for the great event. I went myself, along with your great-grandmother Murphy. It took us ten long hours to drive over.”

 

A little hand tugged at her sleeve, “Grandmother, last time you said it was eight hours.”

 

“Well,” she replied, “It may have been eight, or six, I don’t rightly recall. Anyway, my mother and I drove over on Thursday to enjoy the festival and wait for Earl to appear on Saturday. I set my tent up, like the die-hard festival traveller I was back then, while Murphy got a hotel room, succumbing to the lure of hot and cold running water and a soft bed. Camping was rough because tents back then weren’t air conditioned like they are now days. As soon as the sun hit it in the morning the inside turned into a sauna and

didn’t cool off one but until the sun went down at night. To make matters worse the whole campground was over-run with mosquitoes as big as quarters”

 

Once again a hand tugged at her sleeve, “Grandmother, last time you said they were as big as nickels.”

 

“Well,” she replied, “It may have been nickels, or dimes, I don’t rightly recall. But the point is that they were so brutal it didn’t matter how big they were. I had so many bites by Saturday that I couldn’t tell which were new and which had been there since Thursday. But I would endure anything to see Earl.

 

“There were two good days of music before Saturday and we all enjoyed them, although everyone was clearly waiting for Earl. We got to see the legendary Del McCoury Band.”

 

“The REAL Del McCoury band?”

 

“That’s right. The very one with Del’s sons Ronnie and Rob and Mike Bub and Jason Carter. That was even before his grandson Jake started playing with him. It was the band that people now so often put in the same class with Flatt and Scruggs as some of the best

bluegrass bands ever. We got to see the Osborne Brothers, Larry Stephenson, the Lewis Family, Bill Emerson, the Seldom Scene, Tony Rice–the father of modern bluegrass guitar–and little Ryan Holladay.”

 

“The TV star?”

 

“The same one. Only then he wasn’t but four or five and already singing and picking the fire out of the banjo. There were more banjo pickers at this festival than is safe to have in one place at the same time. Everyone was picking banjos and talking banjos all day and all night. One fellow had a Granada he let me pick. It was just like candy it was so sweet. Then on Saturday someone came up to him and asked if he wanted to buy another old

Granada.”

 

“Don’t be silly, Grandmother,” the kids giggled. “Nobody just walks up and asks you if you want to buy a Granada.”

 

“Well it happened this time. That was more Granadas than I’d ever played before in my life.

 

“So everyone bided their time, picked, and slapped at mosquitoes while we waited for Earl. On Saturday, long about seven o’clock, we were all standing around, flapping our jaws while we waited for the Seldom Scene to finish their sound check. All the sudden the whole crowd stood up and started cheering. I looked over to my right and here comes two shining black busses rolling in, right through the middle of the crowd, behind a police escort with lights all a-flashing. It was Earl. Those busses took their own sweet time driving around to the back of the stage and every soul in the park stood gawking, giving the bus a standing ovation, even the Seldom Scene who stood on stage waiting to play.

 

“They parked right behind the stage, over to the left-hand side so that we could stare at them and imagine what Earl was doing for the two hours until he took the stage. They had set up huge projector screens on each side of the stage and had a person working a video camera up on a platform so that we would all have a clear view and close-ups of Earl’s hands.

 

“As that fateful hour approached, people began filling in their seats until there was not an empty space to be found. You could feel the excitement building as the minutes ticked closer and closer to the appointed hour. At a little past nine-thirty Darrel Adkins stepped on stage to introduce the band, not that they needed an introduction. ‘Please welcome to the stage,’ he said, ‘Marty Stuart, Jerry Douglas, Glen Duncan, Gary Scruggs, Randy Scruggs, and EARL SCRUGGS!’ The crowd, myself included leapt to its feet and

cheered as they kicked off with ‘Nashville Skyline Rag’ and then went right into ‘Salty Dog Blues.’

 

“Earl’s playing was solid and he seemed comfortable up on stage, not nervous a bit after all those years. But, even more exciting than the music was the experience of getting to see Earl in person, the way so many millions have, with the banjo slung over his shoulder, leaning into the mike to catch the baritone part on the trios. He played all his classic tunes like ‘Flint Hill Special.’ I could feel the audience hold its breath as he neared

the end thinking, ‘Is he going to hit the ending?’ We all cheered, whistled, clapped, and yelled as Earl nailed it one more time. ‘Foggy Mountain Breakdown,’ ‘Reuben,’ ‘Cripple Creek,’ ‘Dig A Hole In The Meadow,’ ‘Ain’t Gonna Work Tomorrow,’ the hits tumbled out

one after another. My favorite part, though, was when Earl put down the banjo and picked up the guitar, like he did so often with the Foggy Mountain Boys. I know you’ve seen pictures of Earl with the guitar up to his ear, playing into the vocal mike. Well, I actually got to see it and the moment couldn’t have been more magical.

 

“Earl played for an hour and a half, and then came back for an encore. After the encore Earl, Louise, and the rest of the band came back onto the stage without their instruments so that we could take all the pictures we wanted. Everybody in the audience that night took a story home and told it to their friends and kids just like I’m telling this to you. It is an experience that I have treasured down through the years and I hope that, if you ever get a chance to see a legend in person, you will remember, record, and pass the memory on so that others can enjoy it and learn from it just as you did.

 

“Now go to bed and dream of Lester, Earl and all the Foggy Mountain Boys and next time you’re down at your grocers pick up some Martha White, Pet Milk. You’ll be might glad you did. Good night everybody.”

Earl Scruggs: A Memory

March 29th, 2012

Murphy Henry

When son Chris called tonight, March 28, to tell us Earl Scruggs had died, I knew I would want to write some sort of blog about him, but I had no idea what to write. Then it came to me. Casey and I had gotten to meet Earl and Louise, his wife, one time in their Nashville home. I later wrote about that experience for the University of Virginia alumni magazine. Trusting that I own the copyright for that article, I will reprise a part of it now:

Prelude: Early in the article I mentioned that as part of her application for UVA Casey had submitted an essay about the most exciting day of her life: meeting J.D. Crowe! She wrote that meeting J.D. was the “single greatest day of my life. Until a new single greatest day of my life comes along.”

Meeting J.D. got trumped when Casey and I—all by ourselves— got to visit Earl. In his house.

This is what I wrote:

After we had chatted for a while, Louise asked us if we would like to play Earl’s banjo. Would we? Would a blues lover like to play B.B. King’s beloved Lucille? [His guitar.] Would a fiddler like to play Itzhak Perlman’s Strad? I went first, boldly playing one of my own compositions. I sure wasn’t going to try to out-Earl Earl on one of his tunes. Then I passed the banjo—EARL’S BANJO!!—to Casey. She played a tune or two and then Earl got out the little banjo that he keeps beside his chair and started PLAYING ALONG WITH CASEY!!!

The hardest thing I’ve ever done as a parent [up till that point!] was to sit still and let Casey play the banjo with Earl. I’m sure I earned an extra star in my crown for not wrenching the banjo out of her hands. [I think they played Home Sweet Home and Silver Bells together.] If Casey can maintain her aplomb while playing banjo with Earl Scruggs, I’m sure she’ll do fine facing the rigors of life as a bluegrass musician.

Casey and Earl

Things I didn’t put in the article about visiting Earl: Louise offered us some iced tea, which we accepted. The only problem was, after drinking a tall glass of iced tea, I had to pee. Which meant I had to ask where the bathroom was (embarrassing) and then get up and go there (also embarrassing). And the whole time I’m in there I’m thinking, “I’m using Earl’s bathroom!”

Also when Louise asked us if we’d like to play Earl’s banjo my actual reply was, “I thought you’d never ask!”

Another interesting tidbit: Someone had just donated Mother Maybelle’s guitar to the Country Music Hall of Fame Museum so we were talking a little about her. And this is what floored me. Earl said he’d always admired Mother Maybelle’s playing and had tried to copy what she did on guitar but he could never get his guitar playing to sound like hers! Here is Earl Scruggs, disappointed in himself because his guitar playing—his wonderful, fantastic, gorgeous guitar playing— does not sound like Mother Maybelle’s. (Of course hers was all those adjectives, too.) I wondered at the time, “Does it never stop? Wanting to sound like someone else?”

And just one more thing. Here’s the reason I played one of my own tunes (which was Hazel Creek) for Earl when I had the chance to play his banjo. One year, at the IBMA World of Bluegrass, I’d had a chance to sit at a table in the hotel restaurant with Earl and Louise while they were eating supper. No one else was around. I had them all to myself! And, as part of our conversation, Earl said, “I get so tired of hearing the same old stuff all the time.” Right then and there I vowed to myself that if I EVER got the chance to play in front of Earl I would NOT play one of his tunes, but would play one of my own. And I did. And I am proud to say he perked up, took notice, and asked where that tune came from!

Oh yeah. While we were all sitting there, some man brought over something for Earl to sign. I think it was a license plate, but it might have been a banjo head. Earl graciously signed. The man said to me that he had some of my videos. I thanked him for that. Then the man said to Earl that he was getting all his favorite banjo players to sign. Louise nudged me and said, “You’re a banjo player.” But the man hadn’t asked me to sign! So what could I do? Besides, I knew Louise was just yanking my chain.

And the memories just keep on coming: The year I won the IBMA Print Media Award I got to be in an after-award-show media room where pictures were taken. Earl and Louise were in there too. So, naturally, I had my picture taken with them. But just before MaryE Yeomans took the shot Louise said, “Wait a minute.” Then in an aside to me she said, “I’ve got to hold my stomach in.” I wanted to bust a gut laughing, but of course, I couldn’t. I’ll try to find that picture. Casey also had her picture taken with Earl. I’ll look for that one too.

Murphy with Louise Scruggs

But for now, as you see, we are including a picture of Casey’s son Dalton with the Big Earl poster. The Big Earl was a product of the brilliant yet somewhat twisted mind of the Flint Hill Flash, who wrote an amazing column for Banjo Newsletter for years. Casey’s copy (formerly my copy, I believe) now hangs in her office. I thought it was fitting that we take Dalton’s picture in front of it. I just didn’t know at the time that we would use it in a blog in memory of Earl.

Dalton and Big Earl

Dalton and Big Earl

Rest in peace, Earl. Your banjo playing has inspired so many. Including Casey and me. And perhaps one of these years, Dalton.