Imagine having the chance not only to meet one of your heroes, but actually to get to know him or her. That's exactly what happened to me with Jimmy Buffett.
It began with a strange coincidence: he was having trouble with his personal computer and I could fix it. His hard drive had crashed with two years worth of his latest book on it and of course he hadn't backed it up. He was desperately looking for a Parrothead who was also a propellerhead. My guardian angel was definitely working overtime that day. His wasn't doing too bad either since I was the manager of the hotline at a major computer manufacturer. I was ready, willing, and able to do whatever it took to help him out. As it turned out, I got to go to his house to deliver him a loaner computer until we could recover his files from his disk and fix his computer.
Before my first meeting with Jimmy, my wife Wendy tempered my over-optimistic eagerness by asking me if I thought I was going to "become buddies or something" with him. As my tender male ego crashed into reality, I changed my tactics from "jam on guitar and drink margaritas till dawn" to "just do your job." It was a wise decision and helped seal the deal.
Since then I have met and talked with Jimmy many times. From debugging Windows applications to riding in his limo to a show, Jimmy has always been the first class person you'd expect: easy-going, fun, friendly, and a genuinely nice guy. But he's also a serious (and successful) businessman and pretty damn good with computers. Because of his passion for computers and my eagerness to do whatever it took to help my hero, I got to go to several shows during his '92 Recession Recess Tour.
The most memorable event occurred when I flew to Chicago to see the show and work with Jimmy on his new color scanner. No big deal, except that we did it while riding in his personal tour bus from Chicago to St. Louis! We worked a little, munched a bit, and shot the breeze as we cruised down the highway.
"When we played Brown Eyed Girl and the crowd went crazy, it really got to me," Jimmy said. That really got to me. It was neat to hear how he really feels about playing his music. Jimmy loves performing for his fans. He will not do anything that might sacrifice the quality of the show he gives us. Sorry, fellow Parrotheads, but that includes not partying to all hours of the night and/or drinking before the show. Jimmy is dedicated to his fans. In fact, at one concert I attended, the crew set up a trashcan for him backstage because he had gotten food poisoning. Total sacrifice: rare in today's world of pampered, temperamental superstars.
Also, unlike most of today's stars, Jimmy doesn't shy away from the public. Quite the opposite. Most people would be amazed at his casual approach to everyday life. He doesn't hide out in secret dining rooms or wear disguises. It's not unusual to see him sitting in the lobby of his hotel, standing in line at his favorite restaurant, or just hanging out in a local bar looking like he's just another Parrothead. But he's not just another Parrothead: he's the Head Parrothead.
And in case you didn't know, you don't simply attend a Jimmy Buffett concert; you join it. Parrotheads can span three generations and often all can be seen joining Jimmy at the same show. Sixteen to sixty is the age group he appeals to, and the festivities rival Mardi Gras on Fat Tuesday. Not only are the fans dressed in the wildest imaginable parrot-phernalia, but I've seen everything from kids playing steel drums before the show to Winnebagos dressed up like sharks in the parking lot. For some reason, people let it all hang out when they go to see Jimmy Buffett.
Backstage, things are a lot less exciting than you might think. The band members usually spend time warming up their instruments, playing basketball, or just watching a movie. Whatever they're doing they are some of the nicest people I have ever met. I've had many an opportunity to talk with Michael Utley, the second longest reigning member of the Coral Reefer Band (next to Greg "Fingers" Taylor). He's a quiet, unassuming family man who has definitely not let fame and fortune get the best of him. I place a lot of importance on this since (like me) he is a small town boy from Arkansas.
Time and again, I heard not only of the respect that all of the band members have for Jimmy but also of their gratitude for having the unique opportunity of performing with this legend. In fact, the only way I knew about the incident where Jimmy was sick was when I was leaving the show with the lead guitar and bass players (with their wives and children) and overheard them discussing "what a pro Jimmy was" by going on with the show that night. They were amazed and so was I.
The night of the St. Louis show, I left backstage early so I could watch from out front. I didn't know when I'd get the chance again, since it was toward the end of the tour, and I wanted to enjoy every second of it. As I watched Jimmy playing before 25,000 rabid fans, my whole perspective changed. He was no longer just my hero; he was also a friend. I will never forget the rush that came over me as he sang "A Pirate Looks at Forty" that night. Jimmy Buffett is one of those rare song writers with so many songs that say it all for us that most of us have a hard time naming our favorite. The key to his longevity is that he's really a poet who happened to learn to play guitar, rather than a guitar player who is trying to be a poet.
I've considered myself extremely lucky to know Jimmy Buffett on a personal level. I've been an avid fan since 1975, and I learned to play guitar and harmonica by listening to his tapes and records. Jimmy represents the alter ego in most of us under-paid, over-stressed lost souls who spend too much time working and not enough time living. His words and music help us unwind and dream of escaping to the Land of Lounge. If you've listened to his music, then you've got a good idea of the man, Jimmy Buffett. If you aren't lucky enough to get to meet him and want a closer look, listen to his CD box set "Bars, Boats, Beaches, and Ballads" and read the Official Parrothead Handbook. It's just like sitting down and talking to him.
As I watched the St. Louis show come to a close, I started feeling pretty good about all that had happened. No doubt about it, I was very lucky to have this experience. And as Jimmy and the band took their bows and said thank you to the roaring crowd, all I could think was, "You're welcome"...
