"If we couldn't laugh, we would all go insane."
Jimmy Buffett, "Changes in Latitudes, Changes in Attitudes," (1977)
Reflecting on the passing of lifestyle icon Jimmy Buffett.
Seventy-six hard charging years at the helm of sand, sail, and a business empire that the man himself said began with the realization he could sing. It has become a multi-billion dollar concern that is still growing.
It began with "Come Monday," a tune he said paid the bills for a long time as his music career took hold. He and his girlfriend - she became his wife for life - drove their old pickup to the beach so they could film a music video of that song.
Jimmy kept working at his brand, blending an ear for storytelling with a showman's gift of gab. Steeped in the Key West island sound, he played the bar scene until the breakout 1977 mammoth Changes in Latitudes, Changes in Attitudes introduced the world to the term "Margaritaville" which, Jimmy said a thousand times, was anywhere you wanted it to be.
The party atmosphere of his concerts promised not just good music and his unique island-style banter, but it stamped one's membership as a "Parrothead." You were part of the scene, no matter the venue. You could have an island lifestyle, whether you were in Fort Myers Beach, Florida, or Fort Lupton, Colorado.
Indeed, all it took was the music, a Hawaiian shirt and a superfood beverage made from distilled blue agave, limes and some kind of orange liquor. Walking into a Margaritaville restaurant in Cozumel, we were greeted by a pirate, who graciously posed for pictures with us...which, I assume, was his job. A seaside veranda table gave us a view of the Yucatan, excellent island drinks in souvenir glasses ("Pour me something tall and strong") and delicious seafood. Pictures of the man hung on the walls, along with seafaring totems - nets, sails... Below us, a swim dock with a slide, an aquatic trampoline and a dozen party-goers enjoying the water. Over the house speakers, of course, the sounds of the man himself.
How pervasive was the man, and his trademark? He appears in the movie "Jurassic World," just another diner in an outdoor restaurant invaded by flying prehistoric carnivores. His moment in front of the camera? He is fleeing in great haste, but not before snagging a couple of frosted margs for the road.
Margaritaville, it turns out, is about sharing. Sharing an interest, sharing a place, sharing moments stolen from an otherwise hectic life. It is sipping a cold marg out on the back deck on a warm summer evening, in the company of the love of my life and the dogs that give us so much. It is sharing an unlikely island bar with a few dozen brand new Syracuse basketball fans during tournament time. It is a laptop, an array of characters and a passion for writing. It's Ubering to our favorite local restaurant on the day I retired - alive and with my dignity intact - to share a meal and a few margaritas with Pat.
It was a restaurant in downtown Denver, Mexican food and the best house marg in town in the company of an adult daughter. It was in the faces we made as we sampled an Oklahoma wine margarita, and how quickly we broke out her Margaritaville frozen drink maker. It's sitting on her back porch in Edmond on a 95 degree day watching her kids play with their dog.
Where is Margaritaville? With Mr. Jimmy Buffett to guide us, it is in the hearts of everyone who sees paradise as a state of mind, a place in your heart. Fair winds and following seas, sir.
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