Losing Jimmy Buffett feels like I've lost an old friend

Like most people, the news of Jimmy Buffett’s passing came a little out of the blue. I saw a post on social media and immediately picked up the phone and rang a friend, with whom I had bonded over Jimmy’s music some twenty years before. Last night I had a drink and played some Jimmy for my daughter.

Like so many people, growing up I had heard his music, and had sung along to it, but didn’t realize that it was Jimmy Buffett, nor did I know who he was. I think everyone who has become a parrot head over the years has had their own journey of discovering Jimmy’s music and words. This is mine.

The first time I made a connection between a song and the songwriter, I was on a trivia team, with a few friends. One of them was the son of a son of a sailor, and he was the only person there who knew the answer to the question “What did Jimmy Buffett get a tattoo of in the song Margaritaville?” (If you’re playing along at home, it was of course a Mexican cutie). When the quiz master was going through that answer, they played the song and I thought to myself “Oh, that’s a Jimmy Buffett song”.

Shortly afterward, someone said to me, “Hey have you heard this song from Jimmy Buffett?” it was in relation to ‘Why Don’t we get Drunk and Screw’. I was about 18 years old, and we thought it was hilarious that someone would say the word screw in a song.

So off I went to buy a Jimmy Buffett Compact Disc that had those two songs on it. It was a greatest hits CD and so many others were there. Come Monday, He Went to Paris, A Pirate Looks at Forty, and Son of a Son of a Sailor to name a few. I had always been a country fan, but this wasn’t country, it wasn’t any real genre that aligned with it. But I loved the imagery of the lyrics, the harkening back to a certain romanticism of the sea, and the enthusiasm with which it was sung.

Regularly, I would put that CD into regular rotation, with all the other music I’d listen to. This was a time before you had a search engine in your pocket, so I didn’t know too much about what Jimmy was up to, but I still enjoyed the older music.

Then I met my friend, Kev, referred to at the start of this story. We both loved Jimmy’s music and when others were listening to a much more modern genre, he and I would instead choose to listen to Fins or Little Miss Magic.

A few more years passed and what do you know, Alan Jackson and Jimmy Buffett released It’s Five O’clock Somewhere, and suddenly everyone wanted to listen to Jimmy Buffett. It was a re-awakening of his music that I relished, and was happy to say, “I knew who Jimmy Buffett was before this song came out”.

Four or five years slipped away, and I had moved when I saw an announcement that Jimmy would be playing a couple of shows at the Sydney Opera House. I rang Kev and said, “Should we go?” His answer was, “Of course!”. I had started dating my now wife at the time and she asked if she could come too. I quizzed her on how well she knew Jimmy Buffett songs and she said she didn’t but was willing to learn. So, in the lead-up to the concert, we played Jimmy non-stop until she knew all the words to all his songs.

Now I’ve been to a few concerts in my life, I’ve seen some big acts perform, but this was a first because I’d never been to a concert at the Sydney Opera House (I’m not a huge opera fan). It was also amazing because it was a show like nothing I’ve ever seen. There were women in coconut bikinis, there were beach balls and inflatable sharks getting tossed around the audience. I met people who had traveled the world to watch Jimmy perform. The demographic ranged from young children in Hawaiian shirts to people in their 60s and 70s wearing cheeseburger hats.

My friend Kev told me that he had serenaded his wife Jo to the song Come Monday. When it came on, I looked at Kev, and in addition to him singing along I saw a tear roll down his cheek. He saw me looking at him and shot me a smile and mouthed the words “Thank you”.

I have gambled at the Margaritaville casino in Vegas, and I’ve had some great food at Margaritaville restaurants, but more importantly, I have so many amazing memories tied to Jimmy’s music. They have the power to make me smile or bring a tear to my eye.

I’m reminded of the line from He Went to Paris

Jimmy, some of it’s magic, some of it’s tragic, but I had a good life all the way.

Thanks for the music and memories Jimmy, we will miss you.