“Hey, do you want to go to the Jimmy Buffett concert next week? My dad got tickets.”
So said my high school friend to me, on a day that seems not too long ago in my memory, but was way back in that glorious decade of the Roaring 1990’s.
“Who?”
“You know, Jimmy Buffett. The Margaritaville guy. His concerts are supposed to be like nothing else in this world.”
“Ummm, I guess I’ll go.”
And so began my journey into becoming a bona fide Jimmy Buffett fan. I knew little to nothing about him or his music. Sure, I had heard the song Margaritaville numerous times. Who hadn’t? It was a staple on many different radio stations back then. Classic Rock, Soft Rock, Oldies. It was one of those songs I heard, everyone had heard. It was a fun song, but truthfully, I did not give it much thought moments after the song ended and the next song started up on the radio. It could have been Key Largo by Bertie Higgins or Rupert Holmes’ Escape (The Pina Colada Song). Just another fun, drinking song. And I’m not much of a drinker, so I can’t say it resonated too much with that teenage kid getting invited to his first Buffett concert. But I always enjoyed partaking in a new concert to experience, a new adventure.
Fast forward to that August day in the mid-1990’s, as my friend’s dad drove us on the slow trek up I-75 to the hinterlands of northern Oakland County in Michigan. Up to Pine Knob, the beloved summer amphitheater. Traffic was always atrocious heading to a Pine Knob concert, and that day was no different. I take that back, it was different, it was worse than normal. Although, at the time in my limited concert experiences, I’m not sure if I realized that the traffic was so bad. Or if I noticed the plethora of Hawaiian shirts to be found among the passengers in all the cars.
Slowly, we eked our way into the Pine Knob parking lot, to discover a madhouse of summer-worshipping, tropical-loving fandom. I’d never seen anything quite like this before. I’d heard of tailgating in a parking lot before, but nothing quite like this. People dressed in Hawaiian shirts, leis, grass skirts, and coconut bras. Sand imported and quite literally creating a beachhead in the parking lot. Lots of drinking, lots of barbecues. Swimming pools here and there. RVs with people dancing on top of them. Jimmy Buffett music being played everywhere. Words don’t quite do it justice. It really has to be seen to be believed. Lots of people too. Lots and lots of people. I would only realize years later, that thousands of people that don’t even have tickets show up simply to experience the party. And the alcohol. Lots and lots of alcohol.
Perhaps tailgating is not the most unique thing ever, many summer concerts will find people enjoying a parking lot party for hours before the show even begins. But the intensity of this Buffett experience, the passion of his fan base, seemed to be very, very different than a typical concert. I’ve never had the pleasure of checking out a tailgating party at an SEC college football game. I’ve heard stories about the insanity of a University of Georgia tailgate, or an Ole Miss football week. Maybe Jimmy Buffett is similar to those experiences, or maybe it cannot even hold a candle to it. But for this teenage non-drinker, it certainly was an eye-opening experience to behold. The people-watching was very unique.
We made our way inside the venue, the concert began, and I felt a little out of place. As the guy not wearing a Hawaiian shirt, I was probably wearing a Seinfeld or Weird Al t-shirt, I also did not know many of the songs. Everyone else did, everyone else was singing along, hitting beach balls. They were still drinking too. Some had reached their limit and were drifting off to sleep. Others were still going strong. Hey, what’s that, a girl just flashed the crowd! My teenage hormones were on sensory overload at the scene. As the show went on, there were a few other songs I, in fact, did recognize. Change In Latitudes and Come Monday were both songs I had heard on occasion on the radio.
Eventually, the show ended, and we began the notoriously slow trek out of the Pine Knob parking lot, and back down I-75. I wasn’t sure what exactly I had witnessed. It was fun, but I can’t say I was hooked on the scene or the music. It was something I was glad I did, just to say I had gone to and done it. Something you can’t really describe, but it sort of built a comradery with other Buffett fans. Because it is a shared experience, something you can only understand if you’ve been through the wonderful madness. In a way, it reminded me of going to a Star Trek Convention, something I have done numerous times in my life. Just a passionate group of fans. Instead of being fanatical for science-fiction, they just happened to be passionate for something a bit more tropical.
That was that. I liked it, but had no expectation of returning to a Jimmy Buffett concert anytime soon. If I did go again, great. If not, no big deal. Somewhere along the way, I ordered Jimmy Buffett’s Greatest Hit(s) from BMG Music Service. This was pre-internet, pre-Napster, and certainly pre-Spotify. Back then a kid had to fraudulently acquire music by creating multiple accounts with BMG or Columbia House and getting 8 CDs for 1 penny. I slowly built up my music collection. So many CDs! Bob Seger’s Greatest Hits. Journey’s Greatest Hits. AC/DC’s Greatest Hits. Phil Collins, Billy Joel, Elton John, Aerosmith, Bryan Adams, The Rolling Stones, The Who, The Police, Genesis, Frank Sinatra, Foreigner, Tony Bennett, Tom Jones, Janet Jackson, Michael Jackson. You name it, I had their greatest hits. The Eagles, I think by law everyone has to have a copy of their Greatest Hits. Eventually, I ordered Jimmy Buffett. I listened, and I grew to enjoy many of the songs. Many were silly, many were funny. Some were serious. I liked it.
A couple of years went by, and sure enough, the high school friend calls me up and his dad has tickets once again for the Buffett concert. This time, I was a bit more prepared for the adventure. I still would not say I was a Parrothead by any means. Not at all. I liked my Jimmy Buffett Greatest Hit(s) CD, but I also liked Steve Miller Band’s Greatest Hits. It was just one album among many in my collection. But hey, a free ticket to people watch at that crazy Pine Knob party. Count me in. This time around, I bought a Jimmy Buffett t-shirt, and was able to sing along with a few songs. The experience this time around was not as much of an overwhelming tour de force of the senses, but something to relax and just enjoy. Enjoy the moment of watching some crazy people trying to forget about work for a day, forget about their troubles, and enjoy tropical vibes via the musical stylings of Mr. Jimmy Buffett.
High school friend and I went to one more Buffett concert a year later, this time a winter concert indoors at the Palace of Auburn Hills. A rather rare occurrence, for the Jimmy Buffett tour stop to reach the Detroit area during the winter months. That was a strange scene in its own right. Everyone refusing to acknowledge the obscenely cold February temperatures, wearing the same grass skirts, shorts, and Hawaiian shirts of the summer months. This was one of the first times I can remember driving to a concert on my own, borrowing mom’s car. Trying to make my way in and out of the arena parking lot, in the pitch black of an icy winter’s night, with inebriated people stumbling all around.
The Buffett fandom was building up inside me, but I would not say it had reached critical mass yet. Buffett was unique and interesting, but still just another cog in the world of my entertainment. But now we leave the 1990’s behind, and move into Y2K. I now found myself an actual employee of Pine Knob. Another high school friend of mine, one of my closest friends growing up, was a Buffett fan as well, and he would be departing to go away to college in the very near future, many states away from Michigan. I did not have tickets to this Buffett show, as it was always sold out and a tough ticket to secure. Let’s just say I abused some employment privileges to secure entry into that show for the two of us. He would be departing within a matter of weeks, and this was sort of a last hurrah. He still remains a great friend to this day, but this felt like a goodbye to the high school era of my life. It was also a hello to my new friends, my new coworkers, who would grow to become some of my closest friends in the post-high school era of my life. The weather was perfect. Summer. Warm, but not too hot. The kind of days and nights you treasure in Michigan, when summer can be so short and fleeting. We arrived early, very early in the afternoon. I remember it just like it was yesterday. Wandering around the parking, sharing laughs among old friends and new friends. All while the soundtrack of Jimmy Buffett played in the background.
Then we went inside to watch the show, up on the hill, on the lawn. I swear the set list was perfect, and as somebody that at that point was only familiar with the Buffett Greatest Hit(s) CD, I heard for the first time what would become my favorite Jimmy Buffett song. One Particular Harbor. Jimmy sings about finding that one particular harbor, where all is safe within. Safe from the storms of life. Of course, that is not how life works, sometimes those hurricanes will find you. But I have always found the song to be very comforting and peaceful.
The show ended, and once again, the notorious Pine Knob parking lot began its epically slow egress. However, I now had new friends, Pine Knob friends, friends that could sneak me out other exits. High school friend and I quickly found ourselves southbound on I-75. Alas, the Michigan Department of Transportation decided to shut down all lanes but one for nighttime freeway construction. There we were, stuck for hours, eventually getting near home around 1am, on a weeknight. Pulling into the driveway, we made the spontaneous decision to turn around and go to the all-night diner and get a greasy breakfast. Staying out until 3am, even though you have to get up for work at 6am, the sort of thing you can do when you are 20 years old. Saying goodbye to the high school days, and looking optimistically forward to the next set of adventures. Suddenly, that is what Jimmy Buffett meant to me. Suddenly, I guess I was a Parrothead.
In the years ahead, there would be many more Jimmy Buffett shows. Mostly at every Michigander’s favorite summertime venue, Pine Knob. But also downtown at the Detroit Tigers Comerica Park. Even one concert at a very short-term concert venue on the Detroit River, in the shadows of the Ambassador Bridge, which was a way cool thing to experience. With boats dotting the Riverfront, listening in on the show.
Concerts that had great opening acts like Lionel Richie, John Fogerty, Jackson Browne, and Huey Lewis and the News. Concerts that took place as the mercury hit 100 degrees on an obscenely hot Southeast Michigan day. Heat, humidity, and lots of alcohol lead to some very fatigued concertgoers. I’ve run into drunk coworkers from my day job, partying with their shirts off. I’ve gone to a show while a deluge of rain and lightning opened up on us as the show reached its conclusion. I think my shoes are still sopping wet from the long walk back to my car after that show.
Is Jimmy Buffett an excuse to party? Sure. Is he an excuse to play hooky, and take a day off from work? Yes, and why not. Most Americans work too hard and need to take a day off once in a while. I did not choose Jimmy Buffett, the universe chose for me to like him. By giving me so many experiences at these shows. I can look back at all these shows, and remember wonderful little details. This show I went to with this friend. That show with that friend. Randomly running into old friends having a barbecue, and mooching some food. Mooching food and drinks from random parking lot parties. My brother was there to experience the deluge. His shoes are still wet too.
Jimmy Buffett is the instrument, the means, the hub with which I’ve been able to share so many spokes of friendship. A shared experience we can all look back on and remember. I’ve lost track of how many shows I’ve gone to, I was trying to add it up in my head as I wrote this article. It’s somewhere between 15-20. Some friends or family have only gone once with me to a show, others have gone multiple times. Sometimes I’ve gone to a show all by myself, but I was never alone as I was surrounded by my Pine Knob coworkers, my friends. My friends that were exhausted from working this crazy show.
And yet, it’s not really about the party, or the people-watching. Even though those are perfectly nice things. Jimmy Buffett may have come to represent that bit of escape to so many of us working that nine-to-five. For a brief moment, people can fantasize and imagine living a tropical carefree life. It’s not about that either, even though that is a great thing as well. The music, the concerts, are about moments. Moments of friendship and family, brought to life. New friends, old friends, family, coworkers. Coworkers from old companies, and coworkers from new companies. Somewhere along the line, I genuinely grew to become a big fan of the music. I really have come to think of Buffett as a great singer/songwriter. A tropical James Taylor. Yes, his big hits are fun and sometimes silly, but there is nothing wrong with having fun. My personal favorites are not even his biggest hit songs though. Just simple songs about life. Some of them are covers of other artists. A few of my favorites follow this article.
Jimmy Buffett was born on Christmas Day in 1946, a musical gift to all of us. He has one huge hit that everyone knows. And probably a few more that people know, even if they don’t realize he is the one singing those songs. He somehow has multiple New York Times bestsellers. To me though, almost inadvertently, he became the hub in the spokes of friendship. Helping to propel me down the road of life, and to have a little tropical fun along the way.
-MTR