If Jimi Hendrix, his most famous client, was a preeminent symbol of the foreground of 60s art, culture and creativity, Mike Jeffery as his manager and monetizer, full-time womanizer and man-child, symbolized the ever-present background. Actually, Jeffery represented the more Read More …
Mike Jeffery was perhaps Nancy’s first real heart throb…..if that’s not an oxymoron….. “real heart throb!” Haha. The wagging tail of a particularly cute dog can have the same effect! So yes, the story was all too commonplace, even if the Read More …
He, Jimi and I had this deep thirst for life, which we came to from different places, and with different boundaries. Having a deep thirst for life…well…it may be a sufficient condition to bring a group of people together, but Read More …
Nancy had her own way of saying — ‘I was speechless’ — when people told her things that she just wasn’t quite prepared to hear. It seems as if my mind takes notes as it experiences certain things. Instead of Read More …
Nancy, readers may have surmised, was not a terribly good match for Mike. Notwithstanding her traumatic fatherless coming of age, and her cruel arrogant mother with a man for every season, Nancy emerged into adulthood surprisingly lucid and mentally sharp, Read More …
Fame and rumor are frequently joined at the hip. Indeed the rumors about Michael Jeffery, Jimi Hendrix’ business manager, are not flattering. But Jeffery, by nearly ALL accounts, was a calculating and conniving deal-maker and a shrewd businessman who could Read More …
When one gets married, the last thing they want to feel is invisible. I remember that feeling as I walked behind him down that second floor hall. He was taking our suitcases to his childhood bedroom. Not only had he Read More …
Nancy, before she became romantically involved with Mike Jeffery, Jimi Hendrix’ manager, married a man she met her sophomore year at college, at Brandeis University. The year was 1961. It is highly unlikely that she would have already met Jimi. Read More …
The title of this post speaks for itself. My memories of living with my mother in Florida span years, broken up by living elsewhere several times. I remember she was out a lot. With a lot of different men. They Read More …
This post is a sharp turn from the most recent posts on this blog, which have mostly described, in Nancy’s own words, the pain of growing up with no father and a mother who abused her. Sorry if this disrupts Read More …