Jeff Buckley Lives On - Day 133 - Daily Haiku - Grace for Drowning Part 6, with additional info and another haiku
Jeff Buckley live at Glastonbury Festival Full Show 1995-06-24
Jeff Buckley lives on
in his music, and in the
heart of every fan
Cori MacNaughton
One of the things that has always struck me, is that regardless of who speaks about him, or in what context, people uniformly speak of Jeff Buckley as having been sweet, funny, obsessed with music, and a genuinely kind and nice person.
I've yet to run across any record of someone describing him as a jerk. He was truly loved by those who knew him.
And this is how he comes across in interviews as well. Genuine, sweet, somewhat reserved, not always completely forthcoming, as he was interested in preserving something of his privacy, but always nice to whomever was interviewing him. And funny. He comes across as a good guy.
It has also interested me that, when considering the father who deserted him, people tend to be less forgiving, painting him as uncaring, abusive or worse, and ultimately judging him as less than. And, perhaps, that may have been correct.
And perhaps it may be entirely incorrect and undeserved.
My own take is somewhat different. Jeff himself described his dad as having been systematically abused and routinely beaten by his own father. Tim was also a kid when Jeff was born.
Tim and Mary met in French class in high school, they got pregnant while still in high school, and having left Mary before Jeff was born, Tim was 19 years old at the time. He was, I repeat, still a kid himself.
More to the point, were Lee Underwood's later revelations to Jeff, telling him that his dad had frequently stopped by Mary's house late at night, and climbed in Jeff's bedroom window when he was a baby, just to watch him sleep; he shared this in his book, and it was dramatized in the film "Greetings from Tim Buckley."
This is not the picture of an uncaring father who was uninterested in his son. In fact, it is the opposite; it is the depiction of a man who, feeling inadequate to the task, chose to remove himself from his son's life, in his son's best interests, rather than to risk continuing the cycle of abuse.
What if Tim's real motivation in removing himself from Jeff's life had more to do with his fear that he might repeat the patterns of his own father, and therefore, sought to spare Jeff from the abuse and the beatings he had suffered himself?
What if his "desertion" of his son was, in truth, done out of great love and concern for his welfare?
I don't pretend to know the ultimate answer. I am only seeking to ask at least somewhat informed questions, based on the information I've gleaned up to this point.
And no, I am not giving Tim a "pass" for deserting his wife and child; I am merely suggesting a possible explanation, through which he may (or may not) have justified it to himself.
I do know someone for whom this was the case. A gentleman I knew years ago, who had been horribly abused by his stepfather (whom his mother married after his own father passed), chose to forego maintaining contact with his own daughter after her mother remarried.
His reasoning was that he didn't want to confuse her, but I believe what he may have really meant was that he didn't want to take the chance that he might reenact what his stepfather had done to him.
He wanted his daughter to have a full and loving life, and he was willing to deny himself her company, as he feared that, given ongoing access, he might ultimately do her harm.
I fully acknowledge that I may have entirely misunderstood his own take. He was not forthcoming, and given the information I had, I drew my own conclusions. I completely own the fact that I may be entirely wrong.
One of my regrets is that I never heard Tim Buckley play, and frankly, was never aware of him as a performer in his heyday, despite his being a Los Angeles-based musician. He was playing clubs I frequented, such as my beloved Troubadour, albeit a few years prior to my having the autonomy of my own driver's license.
Which, considering his reputation with young ladies, might have been a good thing.
And the irony , of course, is that a number of my close friends, a few years my senior, were huge fans of his, entirely unbeknownst to me. And, even more ironic, most are entirely unaware of his son, who for my money, was the better (or at least, for me, the more affecting) songwriter and performer.
As excellent a musician and songwriter as Tim Buckley was, and despite his having a vocal range rivaling that of his son, it is still Jeff Buckley's music that speaks to me more strongly, that pulls at my heart, and that makes me wish, beyond logic, that I had somehow found my way to Sin-e and beyond, and listened in on a few of his live sessions.
And been transfixed. And forever changed. And . . .
Jeff's 1983 Fender Telecaster - The ONE
Interestingly, the gentleman in the above video notes that he wished he didn't have to sell the guitar, which Buckley regularly brought in to have it worked on, but that it never belonged to him.
The irony is that, though he played it in the studio and in concert for the last several years of his life, it never actually belonged to Buckley either.
The guitar belonged to St. Ann's Cathedral, where Buckley played at the tribute concert for his father, and where his ultimate memorial service was held. He borrowed it from them after that performance, played it for all those years with their full knowledge and permission, and and it was returned to them shortly following his death.
Tim and Jeff Buckley
father and son once parted
joined into legend
And I would love to hear your take in the comments.
Growing Up in a Fog - Original Poetry
Jeff Buckley's Music - Day 131 - Daily Haiku - Grace for Drowning, Part 4 - Humor and Running Theme
Jeff Buckley's Music - Day 130 - Daily Haiku - Grace for Drowning, Part 3
Jeff Buckley's Music - Day 129 - Daily Haiku - Grace for Drowning, Part 2
Jeff Buckley's Music - Day 128 - Daily Haiku - Grace for Drowning, Part 1
Laughter is the Best - Day 127 - Daily Haiku - and even more Comic Gems
Lovely Hummingbirds - Day 126 - Daily Haiku
Most Charitable Poetry Contest #1 - Speaking My Truth - Original Poetry
Nashville at Nighttime - Day 125 - Daily Haiku
Comic recordings - Day 124 - Daily Haiku - More Comic Genius
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All words are my own.
The images and videos are the intellectual property of Jeff Buckley's estate, his producers and record companies, and all rights remain with them.
I claim no rights, but offer these videos, as I offer all the music videos I post, in the hopes of promoting my favorite music artists, so that more people become familiar with their music, and that they grow their fan base in the process, as they so richly deserve.
Jeff Buckley, absolutely, should be far better known than he is today.
The photo of our dog, Lolo, and our late cat, Miod, I took as they were cooperatively begging at the dinner table, despite our longstanding rule of not feeding them from the table.
You can see how much that deterred them both.
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Abandonment. Why. You raise an issue that haunts me - my mom's brother cut all ties with his family, left the Midwest for California. and never came home again. Mom wrote him letters; he never wrote back. They'd never quarreled. He just... shut the door on his childhood and family. We can speculate, but we don't get to know why. Thanks Cori for your objective and more compassionate look at a 19-yr-old dad (just a kid himself!) who's been maligned for neglecting his son. We just don't know but we just love to judge (most of us)!
Irony yet again. My eldest sister did the same. Left California in her late teens, moved several states away, never called or wrote. We had no contact with her for years, until her first child was born, when she relented and sent us an announcement. No further word.
She did keep in contact with our grandmother in New Mexico, from whom we would occasionally hear that she was okay, but that was it.
I reestablished contact with her as an adult, at which point she said "I'll never let go of you again" . . . and then I never heard from her. Our only contacts were initiated by me, with one exception; a long and heartfelt letter she sent me when my first marriage broke up.
But then, when she discovered how wide a gulf there was between our political beliefs, she first called me naive, then turned me into a "villain," and finally cut ties again. The one semi-funny part was when she accused me of acting like I was twelve, when I called her out for violating her own stated beliefs, and then unfriended me on Facebook. Sigh.
For my part, I let her know when my cell phone number changed, and she texted me to acknowledge it, so that's where we stand. The door is open on my side, and I've let her know it, which is all I can do for now.
For her part, she remembers nothing good about our family or childhood, California was only a nightmare and had nothing good to offer, which is a far cry from my own childhood memories.
But part of life is that we become what we choose to give power to, and I choose (in my best moments) to give power only to the good I remember, and to let the rest recede into the noise.
She appears to have chosen the opposite tack, which she has every right to do. But, still, I miss her.
I choose (in my best moments) to give power only to the good I remember, and to let the rest recede into the noise. - You are wise beyond your years! I keep trying to do this - remember only the good - but my brain starts blocking things indiscriminately, and I forget (total blackout!) stuff I want or need to remember. I'm so sorry you have a sister who is alive and well but keeping the door shut on you. One of my sisters is only one remove away from that. She shows up a few times a year for holidays, but she keeps us all a 10-foot-pole or more away. Sad!