My days these days are jam packed. Between work and a new commitment to my exercise program, I'm basically into 12 hour days. Today was no different.
I left the gym and decided to run into the store to grab some chicken (God, thank you for chicken, but chicken 20 different ways is getting old), Landshark, limes and a couple other items. I grabbed everything I needed about as efficiently as a guy in a store can and headed for the checkout aisle.
I put my items on the belt and could tell by the way the younger clerk was eye-balling me I would need to get out my I.D. I was in gym clothes and shaved this morning. I was right. She seemed sheepish about asking so I made it easy and said, "You need to see my I.D., right?" She nodded and I was already ready with my I.D. when I heard the bagger, a younger looking fella singing. I heard him sing, "...now he lives in the islands, fishes the pilings, and drinks his green label each day..." This was so weird, I couldn't process it but immediately, instinctively joined in. We were now singing together - "writing his memoirs, losing his hearing, but he don't care what most people say..." Just then the kid stopped singing and said, "You're singing the song way too fast! I am trying to burn a little time down here bagging and you are singing the song way too fast." At this point, I noticed the kid might be a bit off. Not saying anything bad, really, hell, I'm probably a bit off, but I think he had some emotional problems. I looked at the cashier and said to her and the bagger, "What are the chances that he is singing a song that I know by heart at the very moment I walk up and then he condemns my singing??!!" We all laughed a bit and then I turned to the kid and broke into song again - "...through eighty six years of perpetual motion, if he likes you, he'll smile and he'll say..." I tee'd him up for the best line and he nailed it! "Jimmy, some of it's magic, some of it's tragic, but I had a good life all the way." We high fived.
I said to the young man, "Have you ever seen a Jimmy Buffett concert?" He replies, "No, but would you believe I am a son of a son of a sailor?" I hesitated, pondered the question and replied, "Yeah, we're in Savannah, so that sounds possible." He continued, "Well, I'm from New Jersey." I said to him, "So was Captain Tony." He looked perplexed. I said, "Do you know who Captain Tony is?" "No, sir." I said, hey, when you get home look up the song by Jimmy Buffett called Last Mango In Paris. You're gonna love it! He said, "Okay, can I help you get your groceries to the car?" "No, I'm not old and infirm yet. Next time I'm in, we'll sing some of Last Mango, okay?" "Deal."
Just another weird day in the perpetual Vortex of Margaritaville that I have apparently cultivated.
Wednesday, January 25, 2017
Thursday, November 5, 2015
Margaritaville Moment 11/5/15
The CD player in the work truck hasn’t worked in over a year. I drive the truck so seldom it just hasn’t been worth replacing. Last week, I drove the work truck because my in-laws were visiting and I like them to have the good truck. Keep in mind the good truck’s CD player doesn’t work either. Just the radio.
I took the work truck to the office last week Thursday and when I turned the key to drive to the gym and then home, I heard a noise in the player. I quickly grabbed the stereo face out of the glove box and set it in place. There were two random CD’s on the floor from the house remodel down the street. White Sport and a Pink Crustacean and Dylan and the Dead. I sincerely miss driving around jamming my Buffett tunes, ’cause that’s how I discovered all his songs, so I put White Sport Coat in the deck and voila! It played…
I was so happy. I’ve spent the last week driving that truck around playing that album loudly and singing along. I love playing old school Buffett loud with the windows down. Something in my mind says, “Do you hear this music, people? This is real music. Authentic.”
Tonight, I turned on the Key West MOTM concert and much to my surprise, Jimmy says, “We’re gonna do something special for you tonight. We’re gonna play White Sport Coat and a Pink Crustacean beginning to end.”
I’m just livin’ in the Vortex of Margaritaville and lovin’ it!! Thanks, Jimmy! #FinsUp
I took the work truck to the office last week Thursday and when I turned the key to drive to the gym and then home, I heard a noise in the player. I quickly grabbed the stereo face out of the glove box and set it in place. There were two random CD’s on the floor from the house remodel down the street. White Sport and a Pink Crustacean and Dylan and the Dead. I sincerely miss driving around jamming my Buffett tunes, ’cause that’s how I discovered all his songs, so I put White Sport Coat in the deck and voila! It played…
I was so happy. I’ve spent the last week driving that truck around playing that album loudly and singing along. I love playing old school Buffett loud with the windows down. Something in my mind says, “Do you hear this music, people? This is real music. Authentic.”
Tonight, I turned on the Key West MOTM concert and much to my surprise, Jimmy says, “We’re gonna do something special for you tonight. We’re gonna play White Sport Coat and a Pink Crustacean beginning to end.”
I’m just livin’ in the Vortex of Margaritaville and lovin’ it!! Thanks, Jimmy! #FinsUp
Saturday, June 6, 2015
Vortex of #Margaritaville
Margaritaville. I love the way that word looks. I love the way that word sounds. I love the images that it elicits. A state of mind…
Yes, it is a state of mind. From time to time, we know that the state of mind created by Margaritaville also becomes our surroundings. It happens everyday, to someone, somewhere. For some, it might be in a bar when a great track hits the jukebox and the laughter, company and cold drinks mesh. For others, it might be at sunset on the beach with their significant other after a few hours in the sun. A cold beverage, the sound of the surf and a knowing exchange in their eyes that they are sharing Margaritaville, in state of mind and a state of place. Still for others, they may be in a concert venue, after chilling at the tailgate, soaking in the energy of a live Jimmy Buffett concert when Jimmy sings, “Waistin’ away again in Margaritaville, that’s where this ship is headed!” Between the legions of parrot heads, the excitement of hearing their favorite Buffett songlines live, the exotic island backdrops on the large video screen, it is easy to see how this is the physical embodiment of Margaritaville.
Margaritaville runs hand in hand with our human desire to relax, laugh, forget some things, remember others and in a word so commonly associated, escape. Escape the stresses of the day, no matter their source. It is here that deep within every Parrothead is where Margaritaville transcends the state of mind and the physical reality that it so often manifests. I call it the Vortex of Margaritaville. It’s kind of like the Twilight Zone Tropic Style.
I have story upon story of the neatest happenings. Take, for example, last week. On Gameday for the Dallas show, I had a feeling that I needed to strum a tune and record it. Lord knows, and everyone in my house, that I don’t have the best singing voice so to strum the tunes is what I like to do. I decided upon Cowboy in the Jungle. I strummed it out, took my sacred cell and uploaded it to Youtube. Saturday was a good day to relax and delay my mini party. After having a relaxing evening on the patio, the sun slowly sunk into the horizon and the sky movie started to develop. I have these reclining outdoor chairs that one can lay just about parallel to the ground. A concert under the stars it would be. Karey and I sat side by side in our chairs and I told her that the song I was looking to hear was Cowboy in the Jungle. Just after the Happy Lad from Trinidad finished his featured, beautiful medley, Jimmy B. came back from his break and went right into Cowboy in the Jungle. Made my night. Jimmy said, “I know we’ve got some cowboys listening on Radio Margaritaville tonight!” And he was right. Near the end of the show I told Karey, “I’m going to get up early and go watch the sun rise on Tybee.” She replied, “After drinking tonight? You’re not gonna get up.” “Watch me.”
Well, I naturally woke up at 5:30. After laying in the bed a quarter hung-over for another quarter of an hour, I did remember what I said and I sprang out of the bed. I cooked a bowl of oatmeal to go, fired up the Bunn coffee maker, and let the dogs out. Once the dogs were fed, I took the oatmeal and coffee to go. Grabbed my old radio from my house painting days and headed off. I knew I had left a mixed Jimmy Buffett cd in there from last week when I replaced the batteries so that was good to go. I started the drive in the darkness and coolness of the early morning. The sun was not up near as I could tell, so everything seemed to be on time. The oatmeal cooled and the cinnamon sprinkled on top was pleasing. The drive to Tybee from the island I live on is a pretty one. It’s a causeway that winds throught the salt marsh andit ’s lined with Sabal palms and Oleander trees. As soon as I hit the highway, I turned on the radio as the CD player in the truck does not work right now. A Pirate Looks at Forty was the first song and it only served to set this journey as a spiritual one. Mother, Mother Ocean, here I come. Jimmy’s music takes on different looks for me at different times in my life. I like his analogy of “a new paint job.” He’s usually referring to a new arrangement or a slight lyric change to reflect something current, but for me the new paint job might just be a part of me evolving and seeing Jimmy’s music through a slightly different prism. As I cruised toward Tybee, the songs played and I began to form an idea for a creative project. I would set the radio on the edge of the sea and film the sun rising. Now I needed a song. Just then Wonder Why We Ever Go Home was the next track. Perfect. I got on the island and wondered exactly where the sun was. Did I miss it? If you’ve been to Tybee, there is a curve on Butler Avenue where you first see the ocean up close and personal. I hit that curve and the sun was half on, half off the horizon. Okay, not perfect timing, but pretty darned good. Even the worst of sunrises will never let you down, right? I decided to try to park on the first street leading to the beach that I came to. I took a left and watched a couple get out of their car which was in the last spot available. Just my luck, I thought. Get here at 6 am and it’s still not early enough!! When I pulled back to the main drag, I saw a spot 30 feet away on the right and I swooped in there quick. Dropped the shoes, grabbed the radio and was off at a quick pace. The couple ahead were walking sort of slowly directly to the beach. It might be a 300 yard walk from the top of the beach to the shore and I felt like hiking it out. I went on about a 40 degree angle to my left to give them their space. I got to the edge of the ocean and the waves were crashing, rhythmically and soothingly. I took it all in for a moment, and then cued up the radio. I started filming and hit play simultaneously. As I started filming, I decided at some point I would wind down the volume and let the waves be the wrap. Short and sweet. Just when I was thinking of winding down, something unexpected and wonderful happened. The couple that I passed walked right in front of me, barefoot in the shallows, just before Jimmy sang, “People are movin’ so quickly…” I couldn’t believe my luck. Now my only concern was how the audio would be. Well, I’d find out later. I sat on the beach for a little while longer and enjoyed being there to bring in that Sunday. I headed back to the homestead, but not before stopping by the store to get some fresh sourdough bread out of the bakery and a half dozen eggs. When I reviewed the short video, I was quite pleased. No planning, just trusting my intuition. It was neat to me how the Spirit moved me or used me, however you look at it. Definitely the Spirit of the Great Heart. I uploaded the video to Youtube and went about my day. I was feeling revived now, feeling better from the heart procedure that was performed just days earlier. Modern medicine is impressive. A doctor had two catheters in my heart on Wednesday, and by the following Tuesday I was already back in the gym, treadmilling and lifting. I missed Wednesday, Thursday and Friday work, so I went to the office and caught up in a couple focused hours. After leaving work, I went to the golf course and hit two buckets of balls. I was talking to my Mom on the phone and told her what my morning had been like, and she said, “It’s not even eleven o’clock, Matthew.” Yeah, probably time to slow down.
Had a great rest of the day and on Monday morning got up a little earlier than usual and decided to strum Wonder Why We Ever Go Home out a bit and if I liked it how it sounded, video and upload it. I was pleased with the outcome and uploaded it to Youtube. What I like about social media is that people can get messages across in a way that never existed before. It’s quite wonderful. I stay focused on the positive side, as Eric Clapton wrote, “It’s in the way that you use it.” Anyhow, Tuesday night was the Jimmy Buffett show in Atlanta. I sure tried to pull off driving there and back. All I would need is to leave work by 3:00 and drive back after the show. It would put me home about 3 in the morning, but just one workday and a rest from pulling it off. Alas, my better half told me it was too much, too soon after the week I’d had, and besides, I don’t think I had the guts to ask my boss if I could leave early after having Weds, Thurs, and Fri off the week before. Well, Margaritaville TV it was. What a modern marvel Margaritaville TV is. Us Parrotheads sure have it good. Our Mayor of Margaritaville has always been on the cutting edge of technology and in conjuction has always hired the best crew to help him with his product. Margaritaville TV to me is a union of Jimmy’s vision and the creative, competent crew he has put together. If you haven’t tuned into one of the shows, you should. It’s really well done.
I was enjoying a couple cold beers and watching the Atlanta show knowing that a couple of acquaintances were there. Man, it would have been so much fun. Lots of driving, but definitely stories to tell. Just after Robert Greenidge’s featured steel drum medley, Jimmy walked to his spot on the stage and said, “Well, we’re diggin’ deep tonight, this song goes back to the Rancho Deluxe soundtrack.” At the first chord, I couldn’t believe my ears. “Years grow shorter, not longer, the more you’ve been on your own, feelings for movin’ grow stronger…” Unbelievable. Then I noticed something even more wild…the backdrop on the large screen was the Tybee Pier. My heart surged with gratitude to Jimmy Buffett and the Spirit of the Great Heart. “How does it happen? How do we know? Who sits and watches? Who does the show?”
As I sat and watched the Thursday concert on MargTV, I picked up a songbook to flip through. Jimmy had written a thought out for each song. “A walk on the beach is excellent therapy for all those unanswerable questions. I wrote this particular song originally for a movie soundtrack. When I first saw the film, the lyrics had been cut and a 747 landed over the track. So I decided to try it one more time.” I flipped the page and this is what Jimmy had written about Wonder Why We Ever Go Home. I’m reading this two days after the ATL show and four days after shooting the mini video. But like I stated earlier, I’m living in the Vortex of Margaritaville, and I love everything about it!
Yes, it is a state of mind. From time to time, we know that the state of mind created by Margaritaville also becomes our surroundings. It happens everyday, to someone, somewhere. For some, it might be in a bar when a great track hits the jukebox and the laughter, company and cold drinks mesh. For others, it might be at sunset on the beach with their significant other after a few hours in the sun. A cold beverage, the sound of the surf and a knowing exchange in their eyes that they are sharing Margaritaville, in state of mind and a state of place. Still for others, they may be in a concert venue, after chilling at the tailgate, soaking in the energy of a live Jimmy Buffett concert when Jimmy sings, “Waistin’ away again in Margaritaville, that’s where this ship is headed!” Between the legions of parrot heads, the excitement of hearing their favorite Buffett songlines live, the exotic island backdrops on the large video screen, it is easy to see how this is the physical embodiment of Margaritaville.
Margaritaville runs hand in hand with our human desire to relax, laugh, forget some things, remember others and in a word so commonly associated, escape. Escape the stresses of the day, no matter their source. It is here that deep within every Parrothead is where Margaritaville transcends the state of mind and the physical reality that it so often manifests. I call it the Vortex of Margaritaville. It’s kind of like the Twilight Zone Tropic Style.
I have story upon story of the neatest happenings. Take, for example, last week. On Gameday for the Dallas show, I had a feeling that I needed to strum a tune and record it. Lord knows, and everyone in my house, that I don’t have the best singing voice so to strum the tunes is what I like to do. I decided upon Cowboy in the Jungle. I strummed it out, took my sacred cell and uploaded it to Youtube. Saturday was a good day to relax and delay my mini party. After having a relaxing evening on the patio, the sun slowly sunk into the horizon and the sky movie started to develop. I have these reclining outdoor chairs that one can lay just about parallel to the ground. A concert under the stars it would be. Karey and I sat side by side in our chairs and I told her that the song I was looking to hear was Cowboy in the Jungle. Just after the Happy Lad from Trinidad finished his featured, beautiful medley, Jimmy B. came back from his break and went right into Cowboy in the Jungle. Made my night. Jimmy said, “I know we’ve got some cowboys listening on Radio Margaritaville tonight!” And he was right. Near the end of the show I told Karey, “I’m going to get up early and go watch the sun rise on Tybee.” She replied, “After drinking tonight? You’re not gonna get up.” “Watch me.”
Well, I naturally woke up at 5:30. After laying in the bed a quarter hung-over for another quarter of an hour, I did remember what I said and I sprang out of the bed. I cooked a bowl of oatmeal to go, fired up the Bunn coffee maker, and let the dogs out. Once the dogs were fed, I took the oatmeal and coffee to go. Grabbed my old radio from my house painting days and headed off. I knew I had left a mixed Jimmy Buffett cd in there from last week when I replaced the batteries so that was good to go. I started the drive in the darkness and coolness of the early morning. The sun was not up near as I could tell, so everything seemed to be on time. The oatmeal cooled and the cinnamon sprinkled on top was pleasing. The drive to Tybee from the island I live on is a pretty one. It’s a causeway that winds throught the salt marsh andit ’s lined with Sabal palms and Oleander trees. As soon as I hit the highway, I turned on the radio as the CD player in the truck does not work right now. A Pirate Looks at Forty was the first song and it only served to set this journey as a spiritual one. Mother, Mother Ocean, here I come. Jimmy’s music takes on different looks for me at different times in my life. I like his analogy of “a new paint job.” He’s usually referring to a new arrangement or a slight lyric change to reflect something current, but for me the new paint job might just be a part of me evolving and seeing Jimmy’s music through a slightly different prism. As I cruised toward Tybee, the songs played and I began to form an idea for a creative project. I would set the radio on the edge of the sea and film the sun rising. Now I needed a song. Just then Wonder Why We Ever Go Home was the next track. Perfect. I got on the island and wondered exactly where the sun was. Did I miss it? If you’ve been to Tybee, there is a curve on Butler Avenue where you first see the ocean up close and personal. I hit that curve and the sun was half on, half off the horizon. Okay, not perfect timing, but pretty darned good. Even the worst of sunrises will never let you down, right? I decided to try to park on the first street leading to the beach that I came to. I took a left and watched a couple get out of their car which was in the last spot available. Just my luck, I thought. Get here at 6 am and it’s still not early enough!! When I pulled back to the main drag, I saw a spot 30 feet away on the right and I swooped in there quick. Dropped the shoes, grabbed the radio and was off at a quick pace. The couple ahead were walking sort of slowly directly to the beach. It might be a 300 yard walk from the top of the beach to the shore and I felt like hiking it out. I went on about a 40 degree angle to my left to give them their space. I got to the edge of the ocean and the waves were crashing, rhythmically and soothingly. I took it all in for a moment, and then cued up the radio. I started filming and hit play simultaneously. As I started filming, I decided at some point I would wind down the volume and let the waves be the wrap. Short and sweet. Just when I was thinking of winding down, something unexpected and wonderful happened. The couple that I passed walked right in front of me, barefoot in the shallows, just before Jimmy sang, “People are movin’ so quickly…” I couldn’t believe my luck. Now my only concern was how the audio would be. Well, I’d find out later. I sat on the beach for a little while longer and enjoyed being there to bring in that Sunday. I headed back to the homestead, but not before stopping by the store to get some fresh sourdough bread out of the bakery and a half dozen eggs. When I reviewed the short video, I was quite pleased. No planning, just trusting my intuition. It was neat to me how the Spirit moved me or used me, however you look at it. Definitely the Spirit of the Great Heart. I uploaded the video to Youtube and went about my day. I was feeling revived now, feeling better from the heart procedure that was performed just days earlier. Modern medicine is impressive. A doctor had two catheters in my heart on Wednesday, and by the following Tuesday I was already back in the gym, treadmilling and lifting. I missed Wednesday, Thursday and Friday work, so I went to the office and caught up in a couple focused hours. After leaving work, I went to the golf course and hit two buckets of balls. I was talking to my Mom on the phone and told her what my morning had been like, and she said, “It’s not even eleven o’clock, Matthew.” Yeah, probably time to slow down.
Had a great rest of the day and on Monday morning got up a little earlier than usual and decided to strum Wonder Why We Ever Go Home out a bit and if I liked it how it sounded, video and upload it. I was pleased with the outcome and uploaded it to Youtube. What I like about social media is that people can get messages across in a way that never existed before. It’s quite wonderful. I stay focused on the positive side, as Eric Clapton wrote, “It’s in the way that you use it.” Anyhow, Tuesday night was the Jimmy Buffett show in Atlanta. I sure tried to pull off driving there and back. All I would need is to leave work by 3:00 and drive back after the show. It would put me home about 3 in the morning, but just one workday and a rest from pulling it off. Alas, my better half told me it was too much, too soon after the week I’d had, and besides, I don’t think I had the guts to ask my boss if I could leave early after having Weds, Thurs, and Fri off the week before. Well, Margaritaville TV it was. What a modern marvel Margaritaville TV is. Us Parrotheads sure have it good. Our Mayor of Margaritaville has always been on the cutting edge of technology and in conjuction has always hired the best crew to help him with his product. Margaritaville TV to me is a union of Jimmy’s vision and the creative, competent crew he has put together. If you haven’t tuned into one of the shows, you should. It’s really well done.
I was enjoying a couple cold beers and watching the Atlanta show knowing that a couple of acquaintances were there. Man, it would have been so much fun. Lots of driving, but definitely stories to tell. Just after Robert Greenidge’s featured steel drum medley, Jimmy walked to his spot on the stage and said, “Well, we’re diggin’ deep tonight, this song goes back to the Rancho Deluxe soundtrack.” At the first chord, I couldn’t believe my ears. “Years grow shorter, not longer, the more you’ve been on your own, feelings for movin’ grow stronger…” Unbelievable. Then I noticed something even more wild…the backdrop on the large screen was the Tybee Pier. My heart surged with gratitude to Jimmy Buffett and the Spirit of the Great Heart. “How does it happen? How do we know? Who sits and watches? Who does the show?”
As I sat and watched the Thursday concert on MargTV, I picked up a songbook to flip through. Jimmy had written a thought out for each song. “A walk on the beach is excellent therapy for all those unanswerable questions. I wrote this particular song originally for a movie soundtrack. When I first saw the film, the lyrics had been cut and a 747 landed over the track. So I decided to try it one more time.” I flipped the page and this is what Jimmy had written about Wonder Why We Ever Go Home. I’m reading this two days after the ATL show and four days after shooting the mini video. But like I stated earlier, I’m living in the Vortex of Margaritaville, and I love everything about it!
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