Fredda told me she drove cross-country, from Tallahassee to Los Angeles, listening to “It’s Too Late to Stop Now” and “‘A1A.” I knew the Van Morrison live album, but “A1A”?
You know, the Jimmy Buffett album.
But I didn’t know. To me Jimmy was a sideshow on ABC Records, a one hit wonder with the soft rock “Come Monday.”
But why is it called “A1A”? Fredda couldn’t believe I didn’t know the highway that ran up the Florida coast. And then she started quoting songs like “Door Number Three” and “Life Is Just a Tire Swing” and I realized this was a Florida thing. It became clear that Jimmy Buffett was the patron saint of Florida. But growing up in the northeast, I was clueless.
The Fredda bought “Changes in Latitudes, Changes in Attitudes,” and suddenly Jimmy Buffett was everywhere, with his anthem “Margaritaville.” It turned out the rest of the nation was just a couple of years and a couple of changes behind Florida. Buffett was on his way to becoming an institution.
Then I found “Son of a Son of a Sailor” in the promo bin and bought it for her, and even though the hit was “Cheeseburger in Paradise,” it was the opening cut, the title track, that reached me. And only months later I found Jimmy’s very first live album in the aforementioned promo bin and bought it for Fredda, but that’s when I got hooked. “You Had to Be There” opened up with “Son of a Son of Sailor,” but this take was loose in a way the studio version was not. It lived, it breathed, Jimmy joked about his broken leg, it became my favorite version of the song. But what really closed me was “A Pirate Looks at Forty.”
“Yes I am a pirate, two hundred years too late The cannons don’t thunder, there’s nothing to plunder I’m an over forty victim of fate Arriving too late, arriving too late”
I was too young for the Summer of Love in San Francisco. I was too young for a lot of stuff, and then, suddenly, I was too old. It’s a very strange transition. They ask for your ID and then they just wave you through without looking. You’re dying to be twenty one, but once you pass that threshold no one cares about you, no one is paying attention, you’re on your own.
And by time I was listening to “A Pirate Looks at Forty” it was the late seventies, which were very different from the early seventies. In the early seventies we licked our wounds from the war, we went back to the land. In the late seventies it became about hedonism and money, and I felt lost in the past. I’m still lost in the past. I never bought a leisure suit, my values were embedded back in the sixties and early seventies, I was a man out of time, still am.
Then we went to see Jimmy at the Greek. I had no idea. It was a club I was unaware of. There were routines to certain songs. “Fins to the left, fins to the right”… You either had to disdain the whole thing or join right in, and really there was no choice, I bought every album thereafter.
2
Not long after Irving Azoff summoned me to his office, he called to hire me to help Jimmy have a hit record. It was 1989. Jimmy was doing boffo at the b.o., but was only selling 300,000 records.
So I flew down to Key West and… Jimmy wanted nothing to do with me. I was the enemy. Took me a while to realize this. Turns out Jimmy had already cut the entire album, with a new backing crew, which he played with that night at the very first Margaritaville, and he told me he wasn’t changing a single note.
Hmm… I was paid to do what?
It took two days for Jimmy to find a time to meet me. And when I got in the cab and proffered the address the driver said, “Oh, Jimmy Buffett’s house.” Everybody in Key West knew Jimmy, he was the unofficial mayor, he drove the town via his music and lifestyle, I suddenly realized what I was up against.
So we sat in his living room and b.s.’ed about music and the business and… Jimmy ultimately relaxed, once he realized I was not going to tell him what to do and after a few hours I left.
Then I went to Jimmy’s studio where Elliott Scheiner played me the entire record. I didn’t hear a hit. But I was stunned that Jimmy had laid out all this money by himself, didn’t wait for the record company to cough up the dough. That may happen today, but back in ’89, that was unheard of. That’s how rich Jimmy Buffett was.
3
Took a while for the mainstream to really catch on to Jimmy Buffett. He’d had hits, but they didn’t realize he was building an empire. You had to be there to get it, go to a show, visit Margaritaville, buy into the lifestyle, and once Jimmy started to broaden his endeavors to more restaurants and hotels and ultimately retirement villages, never mind writing books, the script flipped. Suddenly Jimmy was not competing with anybody else. He was in a separate category, above the rest. He may have been selling fun, but there was an intelligent, savvy businessman underneath it all, and when you make that kind of money, outside your own bailiwick, you get recognized, you gain respect.
Buffett knew and hung with everybody. Not only musicians, but politicians, business people… Jimmy was on his own tier.
But it all came from the music.
And Jimmy’s shows were guaranteed sellouts. Peter Grant may have delivered Led Zeppelin ninety percent of of the gross, but Jimmy was getting in excess of a hundred percent of the gross. How can that be, you ask? Well, not only was every seat sold, these attendees drank prodigiously and purchased merch and…that’s the way it was for decades.
I saw Jimmy again. Once at Blackbird Studios, but I didn’t let him catch my eye, I didn’t let on who I was.
And then at a gig down San Diego way.
But a couple of years back Jimmy e-mailed me and picked up like we were buddies, like we’d been through the war together. In a world where everybody forgets they even met you, never mind your name, I was stunned. And instead of keeping his distance, Jimmy was intimate. And I recorded a podcast with him and his long time compatriot Mac McAnally and he held nothing back, little did I know he already had skin cancer.
And the thing about Jimmy is you wanted his lifestyle. It was superior to that of the traditional rock star. He had boats and planes, was living for adventure, jetting around the world. Sure, he had money, but he wasn’t hoarding it, he was spending it. He was always looking forward. Tom Freston told me an amazing story about traveling with Jimmy in Africa and getting in trouble, the kind where what your name is and how much money you have doesn’t matter. They escaped, but it wasn’t clear they were going to. Jimmy wasn’t resting on his laurels, he kept on pushing. Jimmy had two clubs, the parrotheads who went to the shows, true believers, and then his running buddies. That’s the group I wanted to belong to. Honestly, I don’t know a single rock star who played at a higher level with better friends and Jimmy didn’t even boast about it. But if you were paying attention…
And Jimmy gave back. I remember him telling me in Key West that he was flying to Tallahassee the next day to save the manatees.
And now Jimmy Buffett is gone.
4
This is really strange, the changing of the guard, the turning of the generations. It’s been happening for thousands of years, but we didn’t think it would happen to us.
And what united us baby boomers was the music. Many sold out, lived behind gates, but they still showed up at the gig. Look at the grosses for the classic rock acts. It’s a pilgrimage. It’s beyond nostalgia. It’s your life.
And David Bowie died before his time, Glenn Frey too, but now they’re dropping like flies, on a regular basis, and all you can do is take notice and soldier on, and some may live in denial but for me it’s an indication that the end is near. For me, our music, our memories…most of it’s going to be gone.
So you need to enjoy every sandwich, as Warren Zevon said. You’ve got to grab on to life. Because you don’t want to have any regrets.
Meanwhile they keep dying, Jack Sonni, who played guitar with Dire Straits, and Bernie Marsden, guitarist and one of the songwriters of Whitesnake in just the last few days. And at this point there is little hoopla, it’s expected. But Jimmy Buffett?
Jay texted me last night. He thought I already knew. I didn’t. We went back and forth about Buffett and then I went online. It was too early, literally only one hit popped up on Google. It was a weird limbo. Jimmy had passed, but it hadn’t penetrated the public yet. And then there were a few more stories and a bunch of tweets and I didn’t know how I was going to fall asleep.
You see Jimmy was so alive. Really. Not resting on his laurels. Still making new music. And despite some interruptions due to illness, still playing live. Jimmy was a beacon, a god, and then he was cut down like a mere mortal. How do you make sense of this, how do you put it in a slot?
I couldn’t. And it took me a long time to fall asleep, and it was hard to stay asleep, and when I awoke everybody knew, but there were two camps, those who really knew and those who didn’t. Those who had been there and done that, gone to the shows, played the records while relaxing, who knew the whole game, and those who only remembered “Margaritaville.” I’m happy that Jimmy is getting the obituary of kings, with good placement, depth and analysis, but none of that will bring Jimmy back. He’s gone. Another rocker, but like I said above, Jimmy was different, unique, he was more than a musician.
So today, before I went out I put on sunscreen. I was scared straight. But how many more years have I got left? Whenever I say that people laugh and tell me I’ll be here for a long time, but my father died at seventy. And Christine McVie didn’t even make it to eighty. And Jimmy’s death was a reality check, is a reality check. First and foremost, we’re on a conveyor belt, and we’re gonna fall off sooner or later. Everything we hold dear is ultimately irrelevant. The accoutrements, you know, what you strived for in business, the accumulation of property and money, irrelevant. They say Jimmy Buffett was a billionaire, but that didn’t stop cancer, it doesn’t care.
And now what happens? Does the Margaritaville brand survive, carrying Jimmy’s legacy with it, or does Jimmy fade into the rearview mirror, like even the heroes who sold out arenas back in the day and passed away?
But there’s that Buffett pull. Did you read that story about the Margaritaville retirement village in “The New Yorker”?
“Retirement the Margaritaville Way – At the active-living community for Jimmy Buffett enthusiasts, it’s five o’clock everywhere”: https://tinyurl.com/3k4wup77
If you went to summer camp you’ll be more than intrigued. That’s what I always tell people, I’d give up everything to go to a permanent summer camp. That’s what the Margaritaville retirement community sounds like, summer camp. This is not the right wing Villages, many residents living on fixed incomes. No, the people who live at Margaritaville have assets, they may not even live in Margaritaville full time. But they’re active, they have fun, what’s not to like?
That’s what Jimmy was selling. Fun with a brain. Conscious, not mindless. With a wink of the eye. As upfront as Buffett was, he was still sly, still unknown, unpredictable, you never knew what he’d do next. And he kept on doing it. And it was all built on the music.
5
The best place to dive in is “Songs You Know by Heart,” the definitive greatest hits album from 1985. Listen and you’ll get it, but you won’t get all of it.
Read about “Songs You Know by Heart” here: https://tinyurl.com/mryu79ke
Play the album on Spotify here: https://tinyurl.com/2svh47k8
But I still want to single out some tracks.
On the very first Barnaby album there was “The Captain and the Kid.”
“I never used to miss the chance
To climb up on his knee
Listen to the many tales
Of life upon the sea”
Then:
“He died about a month ago
While winter filled the air
And though I cried I was so proud
To love a man so rare”
Jimmy was the kid, the youngster, but now he’s the oldster, the captain, and the lyrics fit perfectly.
1973’s “A White Sport Coat and a Pink Crustacean” was full of gems, the building blocks of the Jimmy Buffett canon and lifestyle. There’s the humorous “The Great Filling Station Holdup,” “Grapefruit-Juicy Fruit” and “Peanut Butter Conspiracy.” As well as the heartfelt, deep “He Went to Paris,” a Buffett classic. And then there’s the piece-de-resistance, “Why Don’t We Get Drunk.”
“Why don’t we get drunk and screw
I just bought a waterbed, it’s filled up for me and you”
Waterbeds aren’t even a thing anymore. But screwing certainly is. And even though “Why Don’t We Get Drunk” was never a hit, it was a regular feature in bars across the land, it played on jukeboxes for the hipsters and the cowboys, you heard it and maybe didn’t even know who did it, but you knew it.
1974’s “Living and Dying in 3/4 Time” had the breakthrough, “Come Monday,” as well as “Pencil Thin Mustache” and “God’s Own Drunk.”
“A1A”? What can I say. It contains the songs I listed above as well as “Stories We Could Tell” and “Trying to Reason with Hurricane Season,” which will give you a glimpse into Florida life, back before Miami went nuclear and the politics shifted right and New Orleans was sinking.
And then came “Changes in Latitudes, Changes in Attitudes,” and Buffett became a star. I focus on the songs from before this line of demarcation because Buffett was hungry, doing it to less than spectacular results, but giving it his all. Maybe if the records had come out on Warner Brothers or Columbia…but they didn’t, but they’re still there on wax, and digitized for modern day consumption.
And then there was “Coconut Telegraph,” the title song delineating how the word spreads, I use the term to this very day.
And Jimmy ultimately returned to the charts with 2004’s “License to Chill,” the cover of Hank Williams’s “Hey Good-Lookin’,” went to number eight on the country chart with the help of Clint Black, Kenny Chesney, Alan Jackson, Toby Keith and George Strait.
But one afternoon on SiriusXM I heard my favorite modern day Jimmy Buffett song, a cover of Hawaiian Henry Kapono’s “Duke’s on Sunday.”
“Music playing happy songs, everybody’s getting along Dancing in the sunshine, sippin’ on that rosé wine Good times will set you free Oh, this is the place to be On the beach at Waikiki, that’s where you’ll find me Here on the southside, Beach Boys paradise
Duke’s on Sunday
Duke’s on Sunday
Duke’s on Sunday”
You can get it just from the lyrics. This is what Jimmy Buffett was selling, music and alcohol and conversation and fun. The weight of the world off your shoulders. Relaxed, free, the real me…and you.
6
I couldn’t listen to Jimmy’s music last night, or even this morning. The feeling was still raw. He’s so alive in this music, but then again he’s gone.
Jimmy is famous for his financial success, a brand with credibility that was well-managed and succeeded. He could do what the Wall Street titans could not, which is why they wanted to be in business with him, which is why they respected him.
And it’s not only the money, Jimmy had his fingers in the literary world, he wrote and recorded the music for the film version of Tom McGuane’s “Rancho Deluxe.” This was the last hurrah of hip literary fame. McGuane was a star. As was Ann Beattie. Those days are through, now people only care about how many books you sell, and so much of it is genre tripe, but McGuane and Beattie were going for reality, they were in search of a truth that no one seems to care about anymore, even though they’re still writing, in near obscurity outside the literary world.
Ultimately Jimmy married Jane and Tom McGuane became his brother-in-law, ergo the connection. And when I was in Key West Jimmy and Jane were separated. But they got back together…
That’s the kind of story we like, one of true love and persistence. Jimmy carried on. He became a star, but did not forget who he was.
Pretty good for a boy from Alabama.
Fins up!
The following responses from Bob’s readers are printed as is and have not been edited for grammar or content. These comments do not necessarily reflect the views of CelebrityAccess or its staff.
In the mid and late-70’s, I did a ton of sessions in Chicago with Steve Goodman. Stevie told me this story about Jimmy Buffett.
In ’69 or ’70, before any of them had recording deals, Jimmy is playing at the Earl of Old Town. After his set he tells Stevie that he has nowhere to stay.
So Steve invites Jimmy to crash on his and his girlfriend Nancy, soon to be his wife’s couch. Then in the morning Jimmy asks Steve for a ride to the Greyhound station so he could get to his next gig in Madison.
At the station Jimmy confides he doesn’t have the cash for the bus ticket, so Stevie buys it.
Starting in the mid-70’s Jimmy covered a Steve Goodman song on most of his first 8 or 10 albums. Including on the Changes.. album that contained “Margarittaville” (his 7th!!).
Back then, songwriters had their own special fraternity.
They knew who was in it.
Hank Neuberger
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Here’s another story from my experience of Irving Azoff’s Front Line Files: In 1983 Irving had the Eagles individually (sans Glenn who went to Elliott Roberts), JD Souther, Steely Dan, Boz Scaggs, Styx, The GoGos, Stevie Nicks (and by extension, Jimmy Iovine), Chicago, Warren Zevon and Jimmy Buffett – apologies to anyone I forgot. As an assistant one of my responsibilities was to to compile the “Artists’ Contact List” for every weekend, telling Irving how he could call any of the artists. Remember it was pre-cell phone.
The list had weekend phone numbers for everyone, including hotel numbers and aliases for those on tour. I can’t tell you how often Jimmy would tell me to write “Sailing to Bimini, no number available”. Pretty sure he wasn’t always sailing to Bimini.
Fair seas and following winds, my old friend. Much love.
Robin Ruse-Rinehart
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…gave Gil Friesen the title for his Academy Award winning documentary…”Twenty Feet From Stardom”
Jim Guerinot
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I did publicity at Howard Kaufman’s HK Management for many decades. It was Jimmy Buffett’s management firm. There are so many wonderful memories that I kept thinking about today. Before I moved to LA in the 70’s, I lived in Boston and worked at WEA Records. Steve Goodman was one of their artists. He penned the great song, “Door Number Three,” which I loved and saw him perform numerous times.
I was thrilled when Jimmy Buffett recorded it, and one of my favorite memories is when Jimmy played it at the Greek Theatre years later. Jay Stewart and Carol Merrill from “Let’s Make A Deal” came up on stage and performed it with Jimmy and the band! It was so much fun!
Backstage after the show, our wonderful photographer for the night, Henry Diltz, was busy getting lots of celebrity shots, but I insisted he stay close by because as soon as Jimmy came backstage, I wanted Henry to get a photo of Jimmy, Jay and Carol. And Henry got a fantastic smiling shot of the three of them to capture the evening. It hangs proudly in my office where I can enjoy it every day, and whenever Jimmy played the song in concert, they would show the photo on the big screen, to the audience’s delight.
I have so many great Jimmy Buffett memories, but that’s one of my favorites. Always brings a smile.
Laurie Gorman
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I first met Jimmy at Corb Donahue’s apartment on Moorpark a few blocks East of Coldwater Canyon. He had just signed with ABC Dunhill and Corb who I believe was the marketing director at the time called me up and said I want you to meet this great new artist we just signed. So I went over to Corb’s apartment and when I walked in there was a 12 man life raft blown up in the living room and they were both sitting in it drinking margaritas and smoking weed. That was the first time I met him. I listened to the record and I fell in love with the song “He Went To Paris”. RIP
Val Garay
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My wife and I live outside Orlando, and she is a longtime Parrothead, and I’m a happy convert. We knew nothing about Latitude Margaritaville in Daytona Beach until we read The New Yorker article. It sounded great, and that Saturday we drove down I-4 to Daytona and took a tour. Loved it! We put our names on a waitlist, 4000 people for the last 1500 lots.
After 17 months, our name came up and we are in contact to live in Margaritaville, figuratively and actually, in about a year!
Fins Up!
Dave Arbiter
Davenport, FL
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To my ears he was more Hank Williams than Glenn Frey, but kept a foot in both camps.
There’s no way to overstate his popularity in Florida. Patron Saint about sums it up. I saw him at The Orange Bowl in ’82. Here’s a 70’s country rock artist who hadn’t had a hit in something like four or five years touring at the height of that first wave of MTV bands (Men At Work, Duran Duran, The Go-Go’s) and packing a football stadium – the same stadium The Police played a few months on Synchronicity and Prince a few months after that on Purple Rain.
Vince Welsh
President
Teacher Education Institute, Inc.
Sanford, FL 32771
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Completely devastated. He was my musical hero. I discovered him late. Around 1993. Oh sure I was familiar with the hit, but my boss came to me one day and, knowing how much I liked music (I was a radio personality at the time) he lent me his most treasured possession, which was Songs You Know By Heart. One weekend and a beer or two, I was hooked. Had most of the lyrics memorized a week later. I’d sing along in the kitchen as I prepared dinner for my wife and kids. The kids had never heard me sing full songs with such enthusiasm. I was all in. I bought A Pirate Looks at Fifty, a great read. I joined the fan club. Never went to a concert though. A big regret. And as the years wore on, and life beat me up, it was his music that kept me centered. I’ll be forever grateful for that.
Keith Michaels
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Bob, thanks for sharing your memories of Jimmy Buffett and capturing who he was. I got to open for him in a Florida coffeehouse when he was still playing solo acoustic and was relatively unknown. I was just another college kid banging out Cat Stevens and Joni Mitchell covers on a cheap 12-string and he already had some great originals, but he was as friendly to me as could be. I guess it helped that I was from Miami and could talk some about sailing and scuba diving, but what a nice man he was. We’ve lost yet another memory maker.
John Paris
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As an Alabama boy myself, his music was omnipresent from my grade school years and first trips to our Gulf Coast beaches, and into my early professional gigs of performing myself in Pensacola, Mobile, and Ft. Walton Beach. I’ll never forget my parents driving me and my three siblings down to Dauphin Island in ‘78 and hearing “Cheeseburger In Paradise” in heavy rotation on multiple radio stations.
His music was never really an influence on mine, but I completely understand it and respect the love his fans have for him and the lifestyle he manifested.
DAMON JOHNSON
(Brother Cane / Lynyrd Skynyrd)
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Saw him open for someone, I forget who, at the bottom line in nyc in 75? Blew the headliner away, big fan ever since…..fins up!
Bruce Lorenz
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I always thought this was funny…. Jimmy was doing a show in his (and my) hometown, Mobile Alabama. Saenger Theater. In the 70s. Someone shouted out a request for him to sing “Why Don’t We Get Drunk and Screw”. He responded in a secretive way “ Shhhh! I can’t do that one! My Mother’s here!”
Patti Martin
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As always, thanks for the memories and eulogy. I first saw Jimmy in a club in Raleigh in 1974 with 150 people. I was in college at Duke managing the concerts. I thought I was going to see just another bar band, but what bar band plays all original songs? He built a following from the ground up, one of the hardest working artists in the business.
I always thought of his songs as either written while drunk or written while hungover. My favorites are the sad songs, like “He Went to Paris”. He may have been the equal of Tom Petty as a writer and no one was his equal as a businessman.
Best regards, Bahnson Stanley
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Beautiful write up, Bob. I’m sure your inbox is blowing up, so sorry to add one more. This news hit me particularly hard. I discovered Jimmy’s music in 1989 when a good friend I worked with at Metal Blade Records (of all places) gave me the Songs You Know By Heart CD. It was a revelation and I never looked back. Through countless shows and thousands of listening hours, his songs became the soundtrack to our family’s life and adventures together. His presence in the world will be missed beyond what words can say. Fins up!
Niels Schroeter
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Thank you for the Buffett tribute. His version of “Stars Fell on Alabama” makes me wish he would’ve recorded an album of standards, a-la Willie Nelson’s Stardust.
My all-time favorite quote is found in Buffett’s autobiography – “I just followed my instincts and kept my sense of humor.” Sail on sailor – you were one of a kind.
Brent Thompson
Birmingham, AL
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Jimmy had Little Feat open up some shed shows— It was just about showtime, yet I could count the amount of people seated in the pavilion.
The thousands of others were elsewhere, milling around the grounds, socializing and whatever.
It was a sold-out show on a beautiful summer evening. Little Feat walks out…
And so does Jimmy Buffett.
He walks up to the mic…
And in so many words says:
“Hey, all you out there, this is Jimmy Buffett. Now I want you to get your ass in a seat.
These guys on stage with me are called Little Feat….
They are a great band and I want you all to see them play”.
I went to see Little Feat…
But left with ardent admiration for the headliner that night.
Marty Bender Sobolewski
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I met Jimmy Buffett in Nantucket in the early 90’s. He was having dinner with Dennis Conner the Americas Cup skipper and for whatever reason common sense left me and I went to their table to say hello. Jimmy politely but firmly told me that I was disturbing their meal.
I was beyond embarrassed and apologized a million times. I went and sat at the bar feeling very foolish. A while later someone tapped me on the shoulder. It was Jimmy. He said that I looked so pathetic that he had to come over to let me know that my transgression was forgiven. He hung out for a little while and took pictures with me and my girlfriend. What an absolute legend of a man. RIP Jimmy.
Kevin Bennett
Sales Director West
Cycling Sports Group
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I saw Jimmy five times between 1979 and 2017. Football stadiums, baseball parks, and amphitheaters. Still, my favorite show was his gig at Harrah’s in Tahoe during a ski trip. In intimate show with just guitar, piano, and percussion. “How many of you showed up because you thought it said ‘Buffet’ on the marquee?” he asked the audience. A consummate performer. Alway self deprecating. RIP.
Steven Leventhal
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That’s a great remembrance. I can’t help but think of one of his lesser “classic” albums. You didn’t mention it. One Particular Harbor. One stanza from the title track stands out to me:
“Most mysterious calling harbour
So far but yet so near
I can see the day when my hair’s full gray And I finally disappear”
Fair seas, Jimmy. Someday we’ll all
raft up at that one particular harbor, So far but so near…
Mike Murphy
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So it’s like this. Buffet was a go-jillionaire because he could make melodies every bit as good as McCartney. My folks played Buffet, Jennings, and Nelson at all their smoke filled, dance hall, poker parties they held while I might have been trying to sleep, just down the hall, in our 3 bed, 2 bath LA suburb house in the 70s.
I never met the guy. But his art was a fu-king enormous part of my pre-10-s, through my mid 20s.
Long after my own introduction to Buffet at home, a friend’s parents bought a sailboat, and berthed it in Marina Del Rey. We were just out of high school, and we would go sail outside of the marina, listening to Buffet, and Everclear (Santa Monica). I haven’t a whole lot of sympathy for billionaires dying before 80, as my dad, as well as yours, died at 70. But I will always appreciate Buffet’s art, as much I do the art of Van Gough and Monet, et. al., and the impact it had on my life.
So I hope Jimmy rests in peace.
Chris Flesher
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Hi Bob,
Since we were in Jackson, MS and since at least one of the jocks at WZZQ-FM knew Jimmy and Fingers Taylor from their time at the U of Southern Mississippi, we played almost every song A White Sport Coat and Pink Crustacean and Living and Dying in 3/4 Time from the day they came out. (Fingers Taylor had additional fame from his work with Larry Raspberry and the Highsteppers out of Memphis; the ill-fated High Steppin’ and Fancy Dancin’ album was in heavy rotation.)
The Great Filling Station Holdup and Peanut Butter Conspiracy (alleged to have been about an event at a convenience store in Hattiesburg, MS where USM resides) were listener favorites. He Went to Paris and Death of an Unpopular Poet were also requested with regularity. In fact, checking the track listing, I know we played every song on Sport Coat except for Why Don’t We Get Drunk. And we would have played that except that was at a time when the FCC might actually do something to the license holder if a station played a song with the famous lyric.
We were already playing Willis Alan Ramsey’s Ballad of Spider John but we were happy to get Jimmy’s cover version on Living and Dying in 3/4 Time. The Wino and I Know and Pencil Thin Mustache were in regular rotation for a long time.
We played several cuts from each of the next several albums and when he blew up with Margaritaville and Cheeseburger, we played them so much I got tired of ‘em. Nothing wrong with the songs but after the first few hundred listens….
I remember your podcast with Jimmy and Mac. That was a good one.
RIP Jimmy Buffett!
Best, Bill Fitzhugh
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Thanks for your wonderful tribute to Jimmy Buffett. My very first concert was seeing Jimmy in Snowmass in August of ‘77 when I was 10 years old. I was there with my Dad and brother and will never forget it. I only knew ‘Margaritaville’ but that was enough. Jimmy and his band showed me the wonder of seeing music played live by talented people who were having fun. And even at 10 I could see that Jimmy was having a ball! I miss those days and have been seeking the joy we had that night ever since. I keep seeing shows to catch that magic. Besides family, what’s better? Take care and fins up! Charlie Howard
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Jimmy’s death has hit me particularly hard, even though I was never a huge fan of Margaritaville and all that jazz. But I knew Jimmy was a good soul and all the stories spilling out now confirm it.
My wife’s uncle was a long time restauranteur on Nantucket. He owned the Club Car for 40 years along with the Ropewalk, which is where he met Jimmy Buffett after he crashed his seaplane in the harbor outside the restaurant. Uncle Joey swam out and saved his life. Joe, like Jimmy, did not crave attention for his good deeds. And while I think the story has been told, the details my family knows were quite a bit more harrowing than is generally known. but the greatest part of the story is it was merely the introduction of a lifelong friendship.
Our uncle was a tremendous flyfisherman, and he and Jimmy fished often, traveling, and having adventures between—or while—Jimmy toured. (We have a shoebox full of Joey’s backstage passes to all these amazing concerts, his name written in sharpie.) But most of the stories we heard over the years were their fish tales as members of the ‘flyfisherman of the apocalypse, a very selec (several famous) bit unassuming group of close friends.
Uncle Joey passed a few years ago, and while I never met Jimmy Buffett, I’ve heard from people close to him that Jimmy considered Joey his best friend. I know that they are bonefishing together right now up in Heaven.
Rick Pascocello
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Hi Bob,
Love your Jimmy piece as it captures the essence of the genius. I was blessed to hang with Jimmy for many years in Jamaica and in the US.
I met Jim backstage at the Greek theater and gave him a song that I had written for him. I never heard back, but when I saw him about a year later on Jamaica, he remembered and said you’re the guy who wrote that song I’m on Jamaica Time!!
He told me that he used to be an altar boy, so he and I together wrote a song called Altered Boy, which is what he had become all those years later!! It’s on his Far Side of the World album.
He asked me to help him launch his Radio Margaritaville on Sirius. So I toured with him for a whole year, experiencing the magic every night, and interviewing him on the radio between sets.
I was supposed to be on his plane with him in Jamaica when the police shot it down, but I had to return to the US the day before!!
We could’ve lost Jimmy and Bono, but heaven was not ready for those two troublemakers yet !!
When I asked Jimmy about it, he said “Listen I used to ship weed, so this is just my karma coming back to get me!” Instead of being bitter, he wrote the song Jamaican Mistaka, and encouraged all of his fans to come to Jamaica to his five Margaritavilles !!
And the plane with all the bullet holes is at Margaritaville at Universal in Orlando.
He was one of the worlds greatest performers, a wicked writer, humanitarian and f*cking amazing human being. All of us in his orbit were truly blessed. We should all be lucky enough in our lifetime to live even one day in the mythical pleasure vortex that he created. He helped us to see the world a little more clearly.
Native Wayne Jobson
Los Angeles
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Hey Bob,
I don’t think I have ever written in (which is hard to believe as I have been reading your work for decades) but I thought this one was worth it:
I’ve been reading the many tributes and stories about Jimmy Buffett — from Brandi Carlile to Paul McCartney — and while he was certainly a friend to many musicians, his generosity extended to strangers – like me – as well. My Jimmy Buffett story is all about our mutual love of two different places: New Orleans, with its rich, funky music and Sag Harbor, NY and its deep nautical history and great sailing vibes.
It starts for me at Tulane where I was a student, working as the Promotion Director for the college radio station WTUL. The History degree I received was nothing compared to the music knowledge I gained in New Orleans, including an introduction to the music of the legendary Neville Brothers. Eight years after graduating I was working as a 27-year-old New York-based local radio promotions guy for A&M Records (RIP Mr. Moss.) where our NY based A&R guy Patrick Clifford signed the Neville Brothers and Aaron Neville to the label. Patrick hired Daniel Lanois to produce the “YELLOW MOON” record and they create a CLASSIC album!
I was determined to help make sure the world heard it and I promised Patrick I would not stop until it did!
Our radio promotion team got the record added on a bunch of rock leaning stations in the country, but the biggest one at the time was WNEW in New York City. The music director: Lorraine Caruso recognized it was a great record but encouraged me to create something special to get the station excited about playing the record early (as normally big NY stations waited until records charted in the national top 10 or 20.)
I pitched the idea of an album release party, but what is special about another album release party. I was at a loss but determined to help break this record. That weekend as we starting to set up the album release for the beginning of 1989, I was spending the weekend at my mom’s little house in Sag Harbor, NY. I was sitting outside the house on the hood of my car reading the paper and I hear two guys talking on my quiet street. I look up.. wait..what…it’s Jimmy Buffett and the CBS TV 60-Minutes broadcaster Ed Bradley walking past my mom’s house!
At first, I was confused as Jimmy “Margaritaville” Buffett was a Key West kind of guy. What’s he doing in Sag Harbor where I grew up? I jump off the car, newspaper in hand and introduce myself to them.
Jimmy tells me he just rented our friend Dave’s tiny home a few doors down from ours and right next to our local radio station WLNG… “Home of the Golden Oldies.”
I tell Ed Bradley that I had seen him jump up for the Neville Brothers final song at the New Orleans Jazz Fest (which I have not missed one of them in the last 42 years) a few months back. He sang the classic R&B song “60 Minute Man” with the band. We talked about his love for the band and I mentioned the upcoming “Yellow Moon” record release and our promotional campaign. I shared my conundrum about getting the needed radio airplay to break the record and spread it out from the world’s biggest radio market; New York City.
Without missing a beat, Jimmy says, “Ed you should host the Neville’s listening party at the Paley Center and I’ll come if I’m not on tour.” Ed looks at Jimmy and then back to me and says back “that’s a great idea Jimmy, let’s do it.” I take out a pen from my dad’s glove box and write down Ed’s assistants’ number on the newspaper and off they go exploring my neighborhood and his future residence.
Not believing my luck that I just happened to be sitting outside my house when these legends in music and broadcasting walked by, I called and spoke to Ed’s assistant on Monday and she gave me a few dates that Ed and the beautiful Paley Center Theatre were available to host.
Lorraine loved this idea and we created the event a WNEW fan and staff exclusive.
Jimmy unfortunately was on tour that spring, where he spent much of his life, spreading joy but the event came off brilliantly with Ed Bradley as the master of ceremonies! WNEW added the Neville’s record which made many radio stations all over America follow suit.
I am SO proud that A&M Records signed a band like The Neville Brothers and even prouder that we got them a gold record for “Yellow Moon, which is still viewed as a classic!
Twenty years later in 2008, I ran into Jimmy backstage in the Newport Folk Fest artist catering area and we sat and talked about our shared love of Sag Harbor, sailing and for the Neville Brothers and New Orleans music culture. Jimmy said he had sailed into Sag Harbor and loved the historic little Whaling village vibe. He, like me could never get it out of his head (I have visited there every summer of my life) and he decided to spend his summers there.
He later bought a much larger home on the water which he passed away in on Friday.
His last in person radio interview was on that local neighborhood radio station WLNG where strangely enough I got my first gig at 8 years old, putting away albums and doing voice overs for a local radio bank commercial.
I was paid in free records and I radio never out of my head. I guess I should not be so surprised that radio was the path that got into the music business a decade plus later.
During Jimmy’s last radio interview this summer he debuted his newest song “My Gummy Just Kicked In.”
The song title was inspired by a dinner conversation he had at his Sag Harbor home with Paul McCartney and his wife Nancy.
Below is a some of that interview from July 9th.
https://www.facebook.com/WLNGRadio/videos/3553304388262413/
Jimmy, thanks for finding Sag Harbor and walking past my house with the 60 Minute Man that crisp fall Long Island Day in1988 and helping the Neville’s “Yellow Moon” record get the proper launch it deserved!
Jonathan McHugh
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Wonderful piece on Jimmy Buffett, Bob. The man went through life at full speed, funny as hell. I do not think I knew a more competent or curious person….he could pilot a seaplane, a jet, sail a yacht by the stars, surf, write, sing, point out the stars in the sky, learn new languages in his 60s and 70s. Who does that? Few people could pack action in more in a single day.
He put nothing but joy out there and the last thing he wanted was for people to feel down and sad for him. That’s why no one really knew. He left happy and at peace. Jimmy packed in a lot of lifetimes into his 76 years. RIP, pal.
Loved your personal take..
All the best, Tom Freston
