The love light is turned way down low at the HQ today. Hell, I don’t care how disgusting my feet are…I’m wearing flip flops today. 

Jimmy Buffett was the first and only concert I ever snuck into. It must have been the first week or two of freshman year when some pals from home showed up saying they knew of a way to sneak into Great Woods for the show. I hadn’t thought much about Jimmy Buffett up to that point but I was away from home and up for an adventure. 

Sure enough, we just walked right around the entire venue, hiked up a hill and climbed a fence – and we were in. My toe clipped the top of the last fence and I fell into the stairs as the crowds were piling into the beginning of the show. I was nose to nose with the pavement when a hand slammed into the center of my back. 

“Shit, I’m caught” I thought. Next thing I know that hand was picking me up and pushing me up the stairs jubilantly saying “You made it man!”. Solidarity in the pirate lifestyle. I was hooked. 

A little bit of what makes me the person I am today died along with Jimmy. I can’t tell you how many Buffett shows I’ve been to since and it doesn’t really matter. If you’ve been to one you’ve been to a thousand. And those thousand all kind of rhyme in the way nostalgia for times go by do. 

As time goes by and life happens there were a core group of people that I saw only at Buffett shows. I suspect most parrottheads have a similar story. Once the news started to spread I heard from people I hadn’t heard from in years. It felt good & bad at the time. Mostly good I guess. 

My head hurts, my feet stink and I don’t love Jesus (or much else) right now