It usually takes the beginning of summer to crank up his tunes, but once I do, I am engulfed in the story of my life. Folks, I am a Parrothead. I have been since first time I heard Jimmy Buffett, probably the second grade. My older brother , David, had all his vinyls and the words spilled loudly out of his room and put smiles on the faces of all the family. It was not long before all 6 us were whistling the tunes of Son of a Son of a Sailor throughout the house. His words oozed sunshine and sand, love and heartbreak, and the stories of peoples lives that made you want to meet them.
For those who don't know me, life in the Fletcher household was not often oozing with the happiness that sunshine and sand makes you feel. Oddly, Jimmy Buffett brought us closer. On long trips we would blare him in the car, making a game out of his ballads...Like... Who could list all the items he liked on his cheeseburger from "Cheeseburger in Paradise", or the "stuff" in "This Hotel Room".We also loved to see who could recite "God's own Drunk" verbatim.
He was the first concert I went to with David chaperoning me and my cousin Kara. I remember listening to the words of Margaritaville, and wondering what in the world they were and why you would need a shaker of salt. I went to his summer concert every summer after that , usually surrounded by my buddies. Sadly, time took a hold of me and I quickly found out what Margaritas were. My senior year, in grand style getting ready for the concert, I decided to have a couple of those great drinks.. While walking into the concert I was approached by a policeman , escorted off he premises and thrown in jail for public display of drunkenness. I was really too inebriated to remember the experience (except for the many songs we sang loudly in the cell) but I do know it was a humiliating one. I had some great companions that forfeited the concert and raised up enough money to bail me out, around 1am. The next day, I begged my brother Richard not to tell my father. He found great satisfaction in holding that over my head all summer long, and every night at dinner sang"Swing Low, Sweet Chariot", a song that symbolized wanting to be free from bondage and was often sung by inmates. Although Dad sometimes asked why he was singing that song, to Richards loyal credit, he never did tell him- I did finally tell him, years later.
Jimmy Buffett weaved his way into our family life regularly. Our beloved Labrador's were named after him. My Chocolate lab was named Buffett and my black lab was named "Spooner", the name of an old hound dog in one of his songs. Through the years, David continued to love him. His senior year he used a family favorite, "He Went to Paris" as his yearbook quote.
" He went to Paris, looking for answers to questions that bothered him so.
He was impressive, young and aggressive, saving the world on his own.
But the warm summer breezes and French wine and cheeses,
put his ambition at bay
And the summers and winters, scattered like splinters,
And four or five years slipped away..."
David graduated from UVa shortly after my mom's death and proceeded to head to France as the gentleman did in the song. He often sent me postcards in college with quotes from Jimmy Buffett on them, such as "If we couldn't laugh we would all go insane" . My favorites was, "The weather is here, I wish you were beautiful". That was all he wrote on the card, and I saved it to this day. It still makes me laugh.
When I met Brock he was not a fan. He associated his radio hits for what he sang and was not all too impressed with "Fins" and "Volcano". But a transformation was made and he has been known to play some of his songs over and over again. On summer nights we have danced under the Magnolia Trees to "Stars fell on Alabama"
"I never planned in my imagination, a situation, so heavenly.
A fairyland, that no one else can enter, and in the center,
just you and me, dear.
My heart beats like a hammer, my arms wrapped round you tight,
and stars fell on Alabama last night..."
When David died several years ago we found it only appropriate to have the song "He went to Paris" played at his service. And I ended my Eulogy with a quote from that song that seemed perfectly fitting.
"Some of it's magic, some of it's tragic
But he had a great life all the way"
With the boys I am afraid that the radio station of choice is 20 on 20 XM. We are often cruising down the street with the radio blaring to Lady Gaga, Kanye West or Eminem. But I have managed to intertwine a little Jimmy in there and find great satisfaction when I hear them arguing about which Jimmy Buffett song is their favorite. Oh, they would make my family proud!
I am a long way away from the girl arrested at the concert 23 years ago. And though I can laugh and enjoy songs such as "My head hurts, my feet stink and I don't love Jesus" his songs mean more to me than parties and hangovers. His songs tell my life story, full of mishaps and heartaches, tragedies and laughter. His words keep me connected to people who have long left this "big round ball". In the short time we were given, he brought my family together, and that is a gift that will forever be appreciated.
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