Jimmy Buffett (1946-2023)
One of my all-time favorite musicians/singers/storytellers passed away over the weekend. I’m going to take this time to offer up a tribute from one of his many, many fans.
I was not much of music fan when I was a kid. I listened to some of the stuff on the radio, but I was far more focused on the folk music that I heard at home. In the mid-1970s, two things happened – I went away to college, and I discovered that there was a huge new world of music out there. Early on, I came across Jimmy Buffett. His first hit, 1974’s “Come Monday” had nestled itself comfortably in my head, but I had no idea who the singer was. It was the kind of music that has always clicked for me. Story based, folk rock. The little touch of country was intriguing. His rowdier songs, like “Why Don’t We Get Drunk”, and “My Head Hurts, My Feet Stink, and I Don’t Love Jesus” were sure to get some attention from late ’70s college kids. Jimmy was bouncy and funny and a good time. What more could you ask for?
Then 1977 came with “Changes in Attitudes, Changes in Latitudes”. With two major hit songs on it, Jimmy Buffett launched to the next level. I can remember walking through a parking lot in Chautauqua, NY singing the title track that summer. I liked this guy. Little did I know how much.
Jimmy and I had little in common. I was a middle class kid from the last ring of suburbs north of Pittsburgh, PA. I had no connection to the ocean, or Key West or the Caribbean. But Jimmy planted the seed in my heart that made me part of the Parrothead nation. Buffett’s music was about a fantasy life that few of us could live. No pressure that couldn’t be resolved by a beer or three, a walk on the beach, and a gently strummed guitar. Despite never sailing anything bigger than a Sunfish, he had me dreaming of watching the sun go down as I steered a full size sailboat to a tropical island. Hell, I knew in my heart that it was “five o’clock somewhere” long before the song became a hit. Wake up with a new tattoo? Eh, shrug it off, and smile as you down an icy tropical drink. It’s all good if you’ll just let it be all good.
As I grew older and listened more deeply, I realized that there was a lot more depth in his songs than I’d first thought. If you really want to understand him, I think you need to dive into the ballads. Yeah, the bouncy, calypso inspired party songs are a blast, but when it came time to offer a tribute to him, I was surprised to see so many people turn to the same song I had, “A Pirate Looks at 40.” It’s a gentle and somewhat rueful look at the move from youthful hedonism to middle aged whatever. “Havana Daydreamin'”, “Son of a Son of a Sailor”, “One Particular Harbor,” “Stars Fell On Alabama” and dozens more. Here was a guy struggling with love, and life, and all the crap that came with it. There’s a bright smile on that face, but there was some deep emotion behind it. I respected him even more.
Finally, Jimmy had a wild sense of humor. His discography is filled with silly, happy songs. My favorite is found on the 1994 release “Fruitcakes”. I love the title track, it’s possibly a top ten personal favorite. Add in songs like a classic Buffett party tune like “Quietly Making Noise”, then slide in a song about being a father with “Delaney Talks To Statues.” It makes a wonderful offering of who Jimmy Buffett was to me.
This is too much for a blog post. We need a beach with the sun shining down as the blue waters try to reach us in our chairs. A cooler filled with drinks of choice, a couple guitars and maybe some steel drums in the distance. We’ll sit, and talk till the sun goes down. Then we light a fire and talk and sing into the night. Maybe, just maybe that would be enough to cover what Jimmy meant to us. Of all the tributes I saw this weekend, none struck me as more on point than this one from Kenny Chesney (This link has been giving everyone trouble. Go to Chesney’s IG account, and go to the tribute directly. My apologies). It’s as close to perfect as I can imagine. And it’s THAT song, again!
I saw him three times in concert. I wish I could see him just once more.
Stories Are My Life 
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