I was awakened this past Saturday morning with the news that a friend had passed away only a few hours earlier. The news came from my wife by way of a group text from one of my sons. I was shocked and in disbelief. Although I knew my friend had been ill, I always believed he would recover. He had to. So many of us needed for him to. But he didn’t.
It was hard to hear that he was gone. I tried to be strong, but I finally had to shed a few tears. I needed to cry about not only my loss, but my family’s loss, including my oldest grandson, who has grown to love Jimmy Buffett as much as I do.
I have never had a conversation with this friend. I never met him. The only time I was ever in the same room with him was when I sat in an upper-level seat at a concert a few years back. But it didn’t matter. He felt like a friend, nonetheless.
My friend’s name was Jimmy Buffett. You know him, too. And while we never met, he knew a lot about me, just as knew so much about thousands, maybe millions of others. His music was evidence that he understood us. He realized that we were susceptible to getting lost in the rat-race of life. He reminded us that we needed to learn to take life a little slower, to live life a little fuller, and to enjoy a simple song.
We took Jimmy on every annual beach trip. Not literally of course, but in our music and in our attitudes. At other times, I spent hours watching YouTube videos of him in concert, or simply listening to him sing, accompanying himself with only his acoustic guitar. His series which he shared with his fans during the Covid epidemic were some of my favorites.
His music brought a smile as I listened while driving down the road. Some evenings, I would sit in my study, singing his songs, also accompanying myself on an acoustic guitar, Of course, I didn’t sing or play like him, due to my extremely limited guitar and vocal skills. But that was the thing. Most of his songs were simple enough that I could strum them with three or four basic chords. He knew that simple music can be good music.
While his songs were not always serious, I knew he was serious about his songs. Some were stories. Some were irreverent. Some were humorous. And some were simply beautiful reflections on life, on love and on things that mattered.
If I had to pick a favorite Jimmy Buffett song, it would be “A Pirate Looks at Forty”. I also loved the lesser known “When the Coast is Clear”. I laughed at “The Weather is Here; I Wish You Were Beautiful”. I agreed with much of what he sang in “Fruitcakes”. And I just sighed when I’d hear “Come Monday”.
I own and have read all of his books. They were much like his music. Simple, but enjoyable. And well written. You should pick up a copy of “A Salty Piece of Land”. You’ll thank me later.
Jimmy didn’t win a lot of awards. I heard him once say he didn’t care about all that, because he had his fans. I was one of them. I didn’t care that he didn’t win awards either. (Later, he did win a few for his collaboration with Alan Jackson on “It’s Five O’Clock Somewhere”.) The bottom line was that Jimmy Buffett enjoyed writing and singing songs for us common folks and wannabe beach bums. His songs and his perpetual smile indicated as much. He wanted to make people happy, and help them escape into a happy place, if only for a little while.
Jimmy, you did just that. You made me aware that in another life, I could have been a pirate. You showed me that the simple things are the best, or that they are at least good enough. You taught me how to eat a cheeseburger in paradise. You revealed to me that I could work at my desk during the week, and still be a beach bum at heart.
I have avoided reading about you, or listening to your music since I got the news. In a few days I will celebrate your music again. I’ll also read those books again. In a few days, I’ll understand that I can enjoy the gift of your music that will still be ours from now on. But not yet. It’s still too soon for me.
Jimmy Buffet, I could go on and on, but I won’t. I don’t have the words to say what I want to say. But I’m praying for your family. I’m praying for the Coral Reefers. I hope they all will find peace. I hope you found your perfect ship and your perfect island. And since I don’t have the words, I’ll simply say “Thank you.”
Jimmy Buffett, sailor and poet, rest in peace.