Business at East Coast Image started to pick up again. We suddenly got a plum assignment courtesy of Marty O'Brien. As I'd said before, Marty's work with Tigress had made him a major player in the music business seemingly overnight. And he always made sure we were along for the ride. But this time, Chris was having second thoughts about the new assignment we got through Marty. Not because of the subject, or the money, but the location.
"Nashville? Why there? Why did we get that place?" he said in a tone that reminded me of myself at times.
I suppose his feelings were justified.
We would be going there to shoot a group of music stars for Vanity Fair magazine's annual music issue. The locations had been kept largely secret and the photographers chosen only knew where they were going after they picked a city out of a hat. And we got Nashville. And a group of country music stars. I was looking forward to it; I had only been there once before for a family wedding and loved walking around the city, feeling the atmosphere and hearing the music coming out of the clubs and bars.
"I mean, do I look like the kind of guy in a pickup playing, what's his name...Willie Nelson on the eight track player?" he said.
"Well...now that you mention it..." I replied trying not to snicker.
"Very funny!" he said "OK, let's get to work." He said with a resigned tone.
Two days later we arrived in Nashville. Marty was there to meet us and was his usual self.
"There's my boys! Welcome to Nashville!"
Chris was grumpy all morning and I wound doing most of the talking to the record company reps we dealt with. Tim McCoy would be our connection here and we hit it off immediately.
"OK, guys" he started "We'll get started in the morning at Tootsie's Orchid Lounge"
Chris looked at me with an expression that showed how much he was dreading this job. I could tell the idea of shooting photos at a place called "Tootsie's" didn't thrill him in the slightest. Never mind the history of the place.
"Cool, I went there long ago...oh, uh, who are we photographing anyway?" I said
"Well, that's a mystery to me." Tim replied.
"Why?"
"Somebody leaked the info about this shoot and they're trying to keep this as low key as possible. All I know is it's someone big." He replied.
"Oh, uh, okay. I guess we'll know when we know, right?"
"Exactly, see you in the AM boys." Tim went off with some assistants.
"I need a drink." Chris said.
"Man, you're acting like a 5 year old." I grumbled as we headed for the hotel bar.
"Well, wouldn't you? We could've gotten Miami or New York...but noooo...look where we are?" he whined.
I gradually blocked out his whining.
The following morning I was up and ready to go. I was getting my gear ready when my cell rang.
"Dude...I-I-I feel like death now." A raspy voice said
"Chris?"
"Yeah...must've had too much to drink..."
"You had one beer." I replied.
"One...one too many..." he said.
"If you're trying to get out of this you're doing a really lousy acting job." I said.
"Dude...gonna die now."
I looked up at the ceiling.
"Why me?" I said to no one in particular.
I think I now heard snoring on Chris' end.
"You are so dead, Chris!" I yelled.
I now had to be the one in charge of things, wonderful.
I frantically grabbed whatever I thought we'd need and headed down to meet the company reps and our assistants for the day. Tim had assembled a local group of techs he'd dealt with who were just what I needed in this case. It seemed all I'd be doing is snapping pictures.
Hey, Fine by me.
I arrived at Tootsies' with Tim and the crew that early morning. Our plan was to photograph our "mystery star" inside the club. But the Nashville morning had just enough of a chill and the way the sunlight hit the street was giving me an even better idea. Soon after we arrived and began setting up, a large bus arrived. It was bright red with gold stripes and the windows were tinted black. The side door opened and a perky girl with brunette hair stepped out.
"Hey, Tim! Wow, everything looks great!" she said
She was introduced to me as Debbie, an assistant. Before I could ask to whom, my answer came down the steps.
Carrie Underwood.
"Whoa!" I blurted out.
Debbie and Tim turned and looked at me.
"Hi there! I'm Carrie." She said in a sweet voice that just oozed Oklahoma.
"Yes...I-I-I'm Jim." I stammered out. "G-G-Great to meet you."
We both laughed at how star struck I was.
Even this early in the morning Carrie looked like a million bucks. She had on a bright red University of Oklahoma sweatshirt and matching sweatpants. Her golden blonde hair was tied in a loose ponytail. Her smile just lit up the streets. Carrie took an active interest in everything we had planned, before being hustled off to the makeup trailer. As she walked away, she looked over her shoulder and winked at me.
"...Like she needs anything to be more beautiful." I said.
"You said it brother." Tim replied
We both smiled and got ready for the shoot.
To nobody's surprise, Carrie's time in the makeup trailer was short. She emerged in a pair of tight weathered jeans, equally aged denim jacket, and black cowboy boots. A guitar case had emerged and out came a vintage Gibson acoustic guitar with her name elegantly written in mother of pearl on the neck.
"Jim, right?" she said to me as I nodded in reply. "What do you think?"
"Uh, I think you belong be on the stage inside." I said, trying to sound professional.
She giggled in that little girl voice of hers.
We went inside the club and rolled off some shots of her on the tiny stage, then seated at the bar with the guitar positioned between her legs. Then she had the idea of dancing around to music from the old jukebox, these shots looked great, and she looked so hot. The time just seemed to fly by, shooting her was so easy. We took a quick break as I went out to our truck to get some extra gear. I looked up the street and the rising sun looked so great.
"That's it!" I said.
I immediately ran back in the club and told everybody to get out onto the street, there was a potentially fabulous shot waiting for us. Before Carrie's people could question me, she had her guitar in hand and dashed out with me.
"Wow! I see what you mean!" she said excitedly. "What should I do?"
I told Carrie to lean up against the front window of the club. She did so, but I boldly reached down for her leg and bent it up so the boot heel was visible. She looked down at me and my position and she smiled at me, like she wanted to say something else.
"Um, nice boots." I said hesitantly while looking up at her.
"The guy holdin' them is nice too." She replied with a smile.
"Thanks..." I composed myself and got into position.
