Hard to say if he would've been out 'til quarter to three, but there's no doubt that I'd still love him if Jimi Hendrix had made sixty-four. Born November 27, 1942, today would have been that day.
Back in 1969, long before I'd heard of Belltown, or become quite so Bent, I was already very familiar with Seattle's favorite son. I took this picture of Jimi at the third of three shows he did at the Waikiki Shell in Honolulu, on June 1st of that year.
I went to the first show on Friday. He stopped playing after about 30 minutes or so because of a bad hum in his amp - some sort of electrical problem. I don't remember much about Saturday's show, but I'm pretty sure I was there. The third show, a make-good for Friday's buzz-out, was one of those nights. A big moon coming up over the Diamond Head crater, gates open to all comers, Jimi in all his glory, and I had my very first SLR and a cheap telephoto lens.
I thought today would be a good day to break out this old image and remember an extraordinary man who left us too soon. And, as Paul McCartney (the other left-handed cultural icon born in '42 - he turned 64 last June) suggested in his song*, we'll open a bottle of wine and remember Jimi on his birthday. Luckily, like Paul, we got older too.