It was the summer of 1991 and Tiny Tim (born Herbert Buckingham Khaury in NY) checked into the Castle Marne B&B. We had the distinct pleasure of spending 5 days getting to know this amazingly talented and tortured musical artist.
A local night club known as Ruby Nightclub booked Tim into the Castle Marne. When welcomed by the owner Jim Peiker, Tiny Tim asked Jim to pick a song from any era and he would sing that song. Jim said "what was the number 1 hit song in America in 1863", Tiny Tim sung out "Eating Goober Peas"! Jim than asked for the most popular song the year the Castle Marne was built back in 1889, Tim sang out "Down Went McGinty" w.m. Joseph Flynn.
Tim proceeded to share his passion for popular music history. He claimed to have extensive knowledge of classical music as well. As we got to know Tim, we learned that he had a very big heart. He was a very gentle soul.
That summer business was very good that year and the Castle was sold out every night that Tim was with us. Not a single guest that week believed that Tiny Tim was sleeping in the same B & B as they were. He performed every night at Ruby Nightclub, slept in late and spent every afternoon at one of Denver's many hospitals singing in the various children's wards.
When performing, Tim would plug his soprano ukulele into an orange construction power extension cord and close his eyes. He never made eye-contact with his audience. It was as if he was playing his favorite music for himself and we just happened to be in the room. He was fabulous! I have never seen someone who loved his music more. It was easy at first to laugh at his outrageous out-fit, (he didn't change his clothes once) but the more you listened the more you realized he was serious.
Was it all just an act? In my opinion, no. Tiny Tim was a quiet, unassuming man who suffered from an extreme form of OCD or Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder.
When we met Tim those many years ago, he was wearing a powder blue tuxedo jacket with a toothbrush in the pocket, white tuxedo shirt with the matching blue piping, and black tux pants. In his hand was a brown paper bag filled with his only other change of clothes (which he took to the dry cleaners), tooth-paste, more tooth brushes, a hair brush and several jars of Este Lauder face cleansers and creams. While he spoke he would stroke his long, shiny curly black hair.
The first night he was with us Jim got a frantic phone call. "Mr. Pike, please get over here quick!" Jim ran up to his room and found Tim on the bed in the Lang room curled up in the fetal position. With a trembling voice he told Jim he was desperately afraid of Miller Moths. That summer Denver was in the middle of one of the worst infestations of Miller Moths ever recorded. Jim got the vacuum cleaner and sucked them all up. Every evening while Tim was performing Jim would check his room for moths.
One afternoon Tim complimented me on how clean his shower was. He said he should know, he took 10-11 showers a day!
My husband Louie asked him what would he be doing if he wasn't Tiny Tim. He told Louie that he'd probably be a messenger boy in mid-town Manhattan.
We have wonderful memories of Tiny Tim. He was a charming and delightful human being. We are grateful for the week we spent with him.
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