I’ve loved Jimmy Buffett’s music since Come Monday came out. I learned his songs on LP, cassette, CD, DVD (sound tracks), and now through a streaming service. I love his originals and the remakes: James Taylor’s Mexico, John Denver’s Nothin’ But A Breeze, Van Morrison’s Brown Eyed Girl. I’ve read The Jolly Mon to my sons and his novels for myself.
I danced my sons off to bed with Barometer Soup and Banana Wind. I did know by heart all the songs on Songs You Know By Heart. When I heard Fruitcakes on the radio while driving from New Jersey to New Hampshire, I pulled in to the next strip mall that had a record store to buy it [The only other time I did that: Lyle Lovett’s Joshua Judges Ruth].
Were there Buffett songs I didn’t care for? A few. Did I waste away in Margaritaville? No. Did I see in his word and music a troubadour? Absolutely. There was so much fun to his music, with not a little philosophy and a smidge of theology thrown in. Written on album sleeves and written on my heart so many songs.
Blessings and Peace, Jimmy Buffett. And profound thanks for your life’s work.
This is so good, Johnna–I never would have guessed you for a Parrot Head (sort of), and the stories of your early love and devotion–pulling off the road to buy an album–are fun for your readers to know about you. Keep weaving together all these seemingly disparate things with your pen & a prayer.
Thanks, David. I guess Buffett fans come in all shapes and sizes – some without the loud clothes!