RIP Jimmy Buffett

We’re kicking this up again because Peter Mayer, Jimmy’s lead guitarist since forever ago, posted this on his Mailchimp newsletter:

I got the news, the way our headlines come these days… a message glowing from my phone late night in my car… that Jimmy Buffett had passed away after 34 years of our touring together; writing and sharing music with the world. It knocked the breath out of me, the radio went quiet - a long heavy pause. For at least a week, my days didn’t make any sense, but throughout the static… a clear strong signal remained beyond my dazed and confused and it was you. Call it a sonic bucket brigade, a steady light from a star since gone, but still traveling light years strong, and very much alive. The stories poured in from all directions, some of them factual, all of them true. I realized I had more friends to lean on, sending sympathy, good advice - friends that stayed close by quietly allowing space too… then I ever could’ve imagined or deserved. For that gift that you sent my way, and to an extended family that some Christmas day balladeer from Pascagoula, Mississippi, gathered onto one particular harbor, I say “Thank you.” The journey goes on. Life bursts in the screen door and travels on out the back porch; becomes a legacy to be born again … a refrain worth raising for another round.

Welcome to the first in the “That Reminds Me” - two-minute stories from my life on the road with the Coral Reefer Band (and somewhat related incidents).

After Jim, Roger and I lost our record deal to Warner Bros., we were connected, through our producer Elliot Scheiner, with Jimmy Buffett to record “Off to See the Lizard.” It was the late 80s, and Jimmy was looking for a fresh direction in the Coral Reefer Band to join the foundational members: Fingers Taylor, Mike Utley and Robert Greenidge. Jimmy’s management called us up to New York in winter, and we set up and tuned up that morning at the Hit Factory in NYC, with Elliot Scheiner in the producer’s chair.

Jimmy walked in with a broad smile, hair pulled back, his granny glasses on and said, “So this is my new band!” At the time, I thought he might’ve said, “Good morning, alien midwestern dudes” or “Hey, thanks for joining me on this album.” But he went for the presumptuous, “So this is my new band!” Being a little slow, it must have taken me 34 years to google translate that phrase. But in hindsight I see that every gig we played since that morning, every new album or adventure on which we embarked, he was choosing to enter in as a band, arms open, invitation sent, message clear; we will leave nothing behind tonight and it’s going to be some serious fun. Through changes in the makeup of the Coral Reefer Band - so this is my new band - a guest artist that happened to be renowned slide guitar player Sonny Landreth, or Joe Walsh, Huey Lewis, Paul McCartney, or Lionel Richie, it was always US… we’re the band tonight. Now, Jimmy was clear that he was bandleader, and he was the best at that… but that sense of inclusion was why Jimmy had countless stories and songs come by his door, he didn’t protect his particular DNA; he invited a whole host of thrilling viruses in to make the music happier, stronger, different than any yesterday could offer. Hey Jimmy, have you heard about these three Midwestern guys in their early 30s playing 80’s pop music? Oh yeah but bring the powerful keys of Billy Payne from Little Feat on stage, how about Paul Simon and Dave Matthews to sing some Neil Young in the Big Apple. We tuned up each night not always knowing what the set list would be, but that we were spice for some summer night, the particular crew for the one-of-a-kind roux, always a party where no one was left out in the cold.​

https://mailchi.mp/petermayer/morni...57QhVgMITblIS_6RP0x_hy_M_gGWhCnKS1k_PNNBlWOFk

 

It always amuses me watching Mayer play. The expression on his face is either pain or poop.

 

A bill has been filed to designate part of A1A as Jimmy Buffett Memorial Highway.
Well deserved.


You know what hasn't been said... one word about a funeral, memorial, internment, etc. I can't blame the family for the internment part. You don't want his grave turning into a destination for people. I hope they cremated him and spread the ashes.

 

I like to think he was spread over Mobile Bay. Maybe off Key West, St Bart’s and Montauk as well.

 

Not trying to be a jerk, really… but it’s interment, without the N.

Interment means burial, internment is being confined as a prisoner.

 

I know for a fact that he's been spread all over the Intermets. Can't bury him there!

 

I don't want to land in the New York City
I don't want to land in Mexico
I don't want want to land on no Three Mile Island
I don't want to see my skin aglow
I don't want to land in Camanche sky park
Or in Nashville, Tennessee
I don't want to land in no San Juan airport
Or in Yukon Territory
I don't want to land in no San Diego
I don't want to land in no Buzzard's Bay
I don't want to land on no Ayatolah
I got nothing more to say

(I'm thinking he should be laid to rest on a boat that's set on fire and floated out to sea, sort of like a modern day Viking. Or a pirate, 200 years too late.)

 

That's what I get for using big words and not paying attention what I type after my bedtime. I should have just said burial.

OR, maybe I actually want them to Weekend at Bernie's his ass, lock him up somewhere, and trot him out to tour next summer. We may never know!

 

My family has specific instructions that - hopefully many years from now - half of my ashes are to be spread on a spot of my choosing that is hit by the sun's first rays as it comes up over the Atlantic, and the other half are to be spread in an equal setting overlooking a river where the sun first peeks over the Smoky Mountains.

 

Meeting of the Minds — the annual meetup of Parrotheads in Paradise — is scheduled at the end of the month in Gulf Shores, Ala. I suspect that’s going to serve as a very public memorial.

 

I just watched the Parrot Heads documentary from 2017 a week or two ago, so I have some understanding of the Meeting of the Minds.

 

Had MOTM outgrown Key West?