My Sister, Me, and Jimmy Buffett…

Jimmy Buffett was my favourite musician. I had become a fan during my second week of University when I picked up Jimmy’s album, ‘’A White Sport’s Coat and a Pink Crustacean.’’ I found his songs amusing, inspiring and fun. I loved the Caribbean feel and the smart lyrics.

As life progressed I continued to be a huge Jimmy fan. I would get excited when he’d make a late-night appearance and couldn’t wait for the Coral Reefer Band to play. I felt like a member of a small group who supported this guy who nobody knew about. I was wrong. When ‘’Margaritaville’’ blew up, the secret was out, Jimmy was a tremendous talent. Soon, the world was craving his escapist music and buying into his messages and lifestyle.

Over the years I watched him and his brand explode. He wrote brilliant, funny books and kept releasing great albums. Soon, there were Margaritaville slot machines and sunglasses, sandals and hotels, restaurants and casinos, Jimmy had found the masses and they found him.

The whole Parrothead movement was predicated on one thing, having fun. It was something my Sister Susie and I weren’t having a lot of in July of two thousand and eight. Our Dad hadn’t been well. In fact, he had been on dialysis for eighteen years and it was starting to take a toll on his body. My Dad, Joe, never complained. No matter how terrible he felt, he never wanted…