Born Herbert Khaury in New York on April 12th, 1930, it was 30 years before Herbert (now calling himself Tiny Tim) became known to the public at large. Regular gigs in New York's Greenwich Village in the early to mid 1960s brought his bizarre falsetto, his long straggly hair, his liberal usage of Lily-of-the-Valley cologne and his pancake make-up to the attention of the boho crowd.
With his encyclopaedic knowledge of American music, his ukulele-strumming, duet singing (with himself) and camp mannerisms, he secured a regular guest spot on the high-ratings US comedy series, The Rowan and Martin Laugh-In. Although viewed as a comic aberrance, Tiny Tim nevertheless cracked the US Top 20 with his unique version of Tiptoe through the Tulips.
If he was looked upon as a genuine pop freak at this time, his gob-smacking live television marriage to Vicki Budinger on Johnny Carson's Tonight Show (1969) cemented his cult status. He was, of course, National Enquirer fodder, his professed celibacy and archly moral sexual views creating immediate tabloid copy. (Not forgetting a habit of playing from his 4,000-plus collection of 78 rpm records on a selection of inexpensive children's record players. "The dime store record players come closer to the low-fidelity of old-time ones more than anything else," he explained.)
By the early 1970s, however, the Tiny Tim fad had all but disappeared - as had Miss Vicky with their baby, Tulip. He was dropped by his record label (Frank Sinatra's Reprise) after three albums, thereafter releasing singles on small independent labels well into the 1980s.
By this time, he had moved to Australia, where he hooked up with former Oz magazine illustrator, Martin Sharp. They worked together on Tiny Tim Rocks, a collection of truly strange cover versions of well-known rock songs (including AC/DC's Highway To Hell). He returned to the US in the early 1990s to live in Des Moines, "because it's clean," and once again tiptoed down the aisle, this time with 39-year-old Susan Gardner. (As a 12-year-old, Gardner had posted a sign on her bedroom door saying "Tiny Tim is always welcome here".)
At the age of 66, Tiny Tim died, mid-song, and was buried with a ukulele on his chest and six mauve silk tulips beside him. He left behind a legacy of pop weirdness that was more quirky and charming than threatening - a clean, orderly and gentle man who only owned one pair of shoes at a time and whose memory for detail astounded those who encountered him. "If I fell down dead today," he told US TV Guide in 1968, "I could always say that at one time in my life, for a moment, I stunned them all."
It is, perhaps, no surprise to learn that Jim Carrey is seeking to buy the rights of Tiny Tim's life story.
Further information on Tiny Tim at www.tinytim.org
