Parrothead Forever

 Jimmy Buffet died.   

The Cheeseburger in Paradise Margaritaville guy.

When I am down in the dumps, I listen to Jimmy Buffet songs.

My brother took me to two of his concerts, one in Portland and one way off in Washington D.C.    I don't recall the trip that well, it was so long ago, back in the 90's.  It was the trip of a lifetime for me.  I think we were gone three nights and four days, but I'm not sure now.

My brother was a travel agent and flew all over the world for business and then on trips with his wife or daughter or both or alone.  He had a lot of accumulated airline miles.   

I loved that trip.   Everything about it.  Seeing somewhere else, besides Corvallis where I lived in a shack and rarely had a working car.  I loved staying in a hotel.  Everything about that trip was exotic and exciting.  Flying on a plane!  Eating out!  I was in a state of bliss the entire trip, to experience all these new things.

We toured the White House.  I was pulled out by security when I kept buzzing the metal detector which embarrassed my brother.    But I had a hole in my jeans pocket and had all these buttons crammed into it, from various places like the Hard Rock Cafe and I Visited the White House buttons.  I intended to give them to friends.  One had made its way down below the hole and kept beeping the buzzer.   I'd already pulled out a handful of buttons for security and deposited them in a little plate they had for that purpose.  "Think you got enough buttons?" one of them asked.

Inside the White House a security agent made a remark to a little girl when she asked about Socks, the President's cat.   "Socks, Socks, that's all I hear about it......" and it got meaner.  My brother stepped in and told him no need to be mean to a little kid.  The agent then turned to us and asked where we were from.  "Oregon,"  my brother answered.  He then drew out our state's name in a deliberate mispronouncement and said "We don't even consider that a state around here."    

The Jimmy Buffet concert was outside, in a field.  I can't recall where.   Everyone was doing what they do at Buffet concerts, wearing hats with parrots attached, sporting blow up white sharks (for Fins to the Left, Fins to the Right song), barbecueing Cheeseburgers, drinking Margaritas, singing along.   My sister in law took this photo of me. I'd passed out from a few too many of those Margaritas.   It's a classic photo of a Buffet concert I think, with smoke from barbecues, the white shark, pirate's flag in background.

That photo was taken in the 90's.  Nothing was digital then.   So the actual photograph became torn and stained over time.  I finally took a photo of the photo with my digital camera (no cell phone yet when I did) to try to save it.   

 I loved your song a Pirate Looks at 40.  Rest in Peace, Jimmy.

Parrothead Forever!