One of the things I like best about West Virginia's latest source of national pride is the way he states his name.
"Landau Eugene Murphy Jr.," he says with an engaging smile and as much pride as if he were saying "John D. Rockefeller IV" or, more fittingly, "Harry Connick Jr."
And rightly so.
Week by week this summer, Landau sang his way to celebrity status, surviving round after round of competition on "America's Got Talent."
The NBC show, now in its sixth season, is basically Ted Mack's Amateur Hour with more glitz and higher stakes. Amateur performers vie for a $1 million top prize and the chance to headline a Las Vegas show.
On Wednesday night, Landau won.
West Virginia won right along with him.
He joins the ranks of native sons and daughters who not only excel in their fields, but also project the kind of character that is our state's best resource.
The TV people constructed a narrative for Landau - humble small-town car washer who looks like an Appalachian Bob Marley and then opens his mouth and sings like Frank Sinatra.
From reports out of his hometown of Logan, I gather he left his car-washing job some time ago and has been performing regionally for a while.
Despite the hype, it's impossible to watch him on the screen and doubt he's the real deal.
In his first appearance, he ambled on stage in baggy jeans and flowing dreadlocks.
Piers Morgan, the most critical of the three judges, asked him in a snarly tone if he was chewing gum.
With no backtalk, Landau plucked the wad from his mouth and stuck it in his pocket. He was the otherwise good little boy who momentarily forgot his manners.
From that point on, he displayed nothing but charm and class, and the audience was his. His success stemmed from his stage presence as much as his voice.