Breathe In, Breathe Out, Move On
Farewell to a Legend…
Photo by the author — Jimmy Buffett in Austin, Texas June 11, 2022
I woke up this morning to the news that Jimmy Buffett had passed away. I’m not normally one to be phased by the loss of a celebrity, but this one hit me hard.
I’ve lived the Parrothead life, nowhere near as vibrantly as Jimmy did, but as best I could to satisfy my calypso poet soul, always setting sail to a tropical coast in search of someplace warm where I could lounge around with boat drink in hand.
When I turned 50 last summer, I bought Jimmy’s book, A Pirate Looks at Fifty. I read it while floating around in my pool. Then I bought a floor ticket to his concert in Austin. A good friend joined me. We donned our Hawaiian shirts and parrot hats, filled a cooler with everything coconut and pineapple and mango flavored, and proceeded to tailgate (inside the $60 parking garage at the UT campus — it was a Buffett concert!!).
Jimmy didn’t disappoint. Barefoot and beaming, he laughed and joked and jammed onstage for hours. He made 75 look young. I wanted to be that alive at his age. His joy was tangible and contagious.
We knew every song by heart. I’ve played his tapes, records, and cds through parties, moves, road trips, breakups, study sessions, you name it. There’s a song for every occasion and every emotion.
I’ve eaten cheeseburgers in paradise and watched the Margaritaville volcano erupt. I’ve strolled along the streets of Key West hoping to run into Mr. Cal Amari (one of the pseudonyms he used). There hasn’t been a day of my life that Jimmy Buffett hasn’t been a part of.
Though I never met him, he made a huge impact on me. He sang to my soul. I understood his need for the ocean, his endless wanderlust. My heart beats in time to his rhythms. He made me feel less alone in a crazy world, and knowing that thousands of other Parrotheads are feeling his loss just as deeply today brings me comfort. They are my people (and we are all the people our parents warned us about).
The big round ball will keep spinning. I’ll keep searching for that lost shaker of salt. There’s no doubt in my mind that I’m the woman to blame.
In the immortal words of the unforgettable Jimmy Buffett, here’s the advice I’ll continue to live by…
“If a hurricane doesn’t leave you dead, it will make you strong. Don’t try to explain it, just nod your head. Breathe in, breathe out, move on.”
