Benny Jay: Jim Hendrix?

February 24th, 2015

In my long and winding life as a writer, I’ve made enough mistakes to fill an ocean–that’s for sure.

I’ve inverted letters, butchered names, mangled sentences.

I recently spelled a woman named JoAnn as Joann. Heap as heep. And Gerry Goffin as Coffin.

Once again, thank you, Thor, for bailing me out on that one!

Man, there’s probably three or four mistakes in this post alone–at least!

So, generally, I tend to be very understanding when confronted by mistakes my colleagues make. There by the grace of God–and all that.

But last week, I came face to face with a whooper that just blew my freakin’ mind and made me feel like I was 452 years old.

It came in a post I wrote for my beloved Reader, when I mentioned Jimi Hendrix.

Who the headline writer called Jim.

As in Jim Hendrix!

That’s right, the dude called Jimi Jim.

Okay, let me just take a breath and try to calm down…

Look, here’s the deal, folks. Jimi Hendrix is probably one of the coolest dudes who ever existed.

In fact, if you were to create a Mount Rushmore of the four coolest dudes from my generation, he’d be right up there with Paul Newman, Norm Van Lier, Steve McQueen, Joe Namath, Bruce Lee…

Wait, that’s six cool dudes. And I still haven’t named Sly Stone. Or Jim Brown.

I need another mountain!

Part of the reason he’s so cool is that he’s Jimi. With an i. Not a y. Calling him Jim is like calling Marilyn Monroe Mary.

I mean, c’mon, man!


Hey, young people–this is Jimi Hendrix!


Sorry. Time to take another breath…

I can’t be too hard on the editor. He was born in the `80s–years after Hendrix had died. I’m sure that for him, Jimi Hendrix’s probably an ancient relic.

Still. Jim Hendrix? I bet he wouldn’t mess up Justin Bieber’s name!

Calm down, big guy, calm down…

My wife is also taking this Jimi-as-Jim thing hard. Hendrix played a particularly important role in her life as she actually saw him in concert.

This was back in 1970. At the Fillmore East in New York City. She went with her friends Gail & Cindi, and her old high school boyfried and…

You know, if I hear about that fuckin’ high school boyfriend one more time…

Milo’s also taking it especially hard. He’s a Vietnam Vet and it was the music of Hendrix that helped him escape that shithole with his mind relatively intact.

Well, that and tons of reefer.

When I broke news of the headline to Milo, he couldn’t talk for at least a couple of seconds.

“Benny,” he finally gasped, “we’re a bunch of fucking dinosaurs.”

Truer words were never spoken.

Let your freak flag fly!

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