Jimmy Buffett, RIP

[cmac2012]

It’s a somber day in Margaritaville. I am not one of those nearly fanatical parrot heads that followed him like some used to follow the Grateful Dead, but I liked his music, I even perform a couple of songs he made famous. I read some new information in the obit at this link:

https://www.washingtonpost.com/obituaries/2023/09/02/jimmy-buffett-margaritaville-singer-dead/

It’s a little bit surprising, but he was among the very wealthiest of popular musicians. This in large part from his Margaritaville franchises. There was an article in Rolling Stone some years back that showed him on a beach with his really happening twin engined floatplane nearby. He would get gigs at tropical island corporate getaways for six figure paydays.

Mr. Buffett, a frustrated Nashville country artist, found his muse when he moved to Key West, Fla., in spring 1972, leaving behind a failed marriage and stalled career. Surrounded by blue water, he donned Hawaiian shirts, cutoff shorts and flip-flops, grabbed an old blender, and embraced the quirky beach community with his musical soul.

“It was a scene,” he told Playboy magazine. “Everyone went out and applauded the sunset every night. Bales of marijuana washed up on the shore. There were great cheap Cuban restaurants … Key West seemed like the End: East Coast Division — a common reason people wind up there, especially writers, artists, musicians and other interesting derelicts, drawn by the idea that Key West is the final stroke of a great comma in the map of North America, suggesting more to come but maybe not.”

Over the next several years, he helped birth tropical rock, a blend of calypso, rock, folk, country and pop music, and rode its vibe into a five-decade career that married his alluring music with astute business acumen.

His commercial breakthrough was the 1977 release “Changes in Latitudes, Changes in Attitudes,” which featured his only top 10 hit, the mellow and wistful singalong “Margaritaville.” He sold more than 20 million albums, his popularity propelled by such tunes as “Come Monday,” “Havana Daydreamin’ ” and “Son of a Son of a Sailor.”