MMTT4S - Sunday Afternoon Kahanamoku Edition

I've never visited Hawai'i. I've been told by my mother-in-law that I'm not allowed to go - because I wouldn't come back. I should probably heed her advice. This is the same woman who endured me absconding from Abilene, Texas with her daughter (my wife), who was 8 months pregnant, to Columbia, South Carolina. Not only did I take her only daughter, but also the only grandchild on either side of the family at the time...over 1150 miles away. Somehow, she still loves me. At least she's convinced me that she does. I am incredibly blessed to have married into my wife's family. I could not ask for better in-laws. We are able to see each other at different intervals throughout the year - Christmas and a summer trip are nearly guaranteed annual events. So, while the distance is certainly less than ideal, it's somewhat manageable with a little planning and traveling fortitude.

Hawai'i would be a different story.

Logistically problematic, face-to-face visits with family in Texas would be much more rare if one party had to cross the south Pacific. First, it would be over 3x as far mileage-wise. Plus, you can't just hop in your car and go, stopping at a Cracker Barrel for food and a Hampton Inn when you need a quick overnight break. Most of the journey is across the ocean. That typically requires airline travel, and all the money and layovers and money and delays and money and lost luggage and money and rental cars and money and long lines and money and hassles and money that often accompanies it.

Basically, my mother-in-law is saying, "South Carolina is far enough." She's probably right, too.

Walaka

Don't get me wrong. Hawai'i is a bucket list destination of mine, but so is just about any place I've never been. I want to see the world. Still, Hawai'i is...well...Hawai'i. It seems to fit my tropical persona pretty well. Visit there? By all means. Never leave? Likely. Would my extended family love to visit us in the 50th state of the union? You bet! Would it happen often? Nope - not even often enough. It's just not reasonable. My mother-in-law is wise.

Still, I go there as often as I can in my mind. My imagination takes me to the islands in the south Pacific, or at least how I envision them to be. Trust me, it's glorious. While seclusion is high on my list in these tropical destinations, so are local customs, history, and tradition. There are even a few places and events that are popular among tourists that I would like to experience. One of those is Duke's on Sunday.

Image courtesy of HenryKapono.com

Henry Kapono is a legendary Hawaiian singer/songwriter, among other things, who was born near Waikiki. He is a staple in Hawaiian culture and the music scene on the islands. He has garnered fame, acclaim and fans worldwide. He wrote a song about the Sunday scene at Duke's Canoe Club at the Outrigger Waikiki Beach Resort, a place with which Kapono is quite familiar. Duke's on Sunday is an institution. During the week, it's a beachfront tourist lounge looking out on surfriders of all types framed by iconic Diamond Head in the distance. On Sunday, however, locals roll in and actually outnumber the tourists, sometimes quadrupling the venue's population. The party ratchets up a little and Kapono and his band usually entertain the crowd from 4pm until sunset. I've discovered that anywhere locals hang out to be well worth the experience.

It's a party. With outstanding music. On the beach. In Hawai'i. Need I say more?

Image courtesy of Hawaiimagazine.com

I would be damaging my surfer soul if I didn't mention the story behind the name "Duke's." Duke Kahanamoku, a native Hawaiian of royal Hawaiian lineage, pretty much introduced surfing to the Atlantic coast, Australia and New Zealand. He was an olympic gold medalist and surfing and swimming hall-of-famer. He's said to have ridden the longest wave in modern history - a Waikiki monster for 1 1/8 miles. Duke is considered the "Ambassador of Aloha." My kind of guy. Since Waikiki was his playground, a statue of Duke stands on the beach there and his name accompanies the restaurant and bar found nearby.

After pondering all of this, I wonder if sneaking off to Hawai'i might be worth upsetting my mother-in-law after all. Hmm...

In the meantime, I'll enjoy today's tune "Duke's on Sunday" - Jimmy Buffett's take on the Henry Kapono gem - and hang ten and hang out there vicariously. You should do the same. It's a great Sunday afternoon excursion.

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MMTT4S - Hurricane Coping Advice. Part 2

My last post shared a wise, age-old, proven technique from Jimmy Buffett for dealing with catastrophe – Breathe In, Breathe Out, Move On. Simple to say, not always simple to do.

Just because it is hurricane season, however, doesn’t mean catastrophe is inevitable. So, how do we coastal residents handle severe weather preparedness without letting our anxiety spin out of control (in a counter-clockwise motion since we’re in the northern hemisphere)?

Let’s turn to our Sage of Somewhere Hot for a suggestion or two.

In today’s song, appropriately named “Trying to Reason withHurricane Season,” Buffett seems to be briefly journaling about a Key West Sunday spent recovering from a typical Key West Saturday, while “squalls out on the Gulf Stream” are signaling nasty weather on the way.

If you’re one of those old salts who consider hurricane prep old hat and you’re just too old school, and really just too darn old, to panic and leave, then you might subscribe to Buffett’s way of dealing with tropical storms, at least on this particular day. 

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What’s the first thing Jimmy does when he predicts a “big storm coming soon?” Like any Weather Channel-worshipping whipper-snapper, Jimmy hits the hammock. He naps, or passes out more precisely. For a nice-long snooze, too.  Then, just to confirm his lack of anxiety, he heads next door to the bar, probably Louie’s Back Yard (as he refers to it in some of his live versions) for a Bloody Mary. Not a hurricane of the cocktail sort, mind you, but a Bloody Mary. He did just wake up, after all, and I guess hurricane cocktails are rather touristy anyway. As a matter of fact, Jimmy’s only real concern at this moment is if he’ll have to focus on anything outside of his immediate and up-close vicinity. Yep – obvious symptoms of Key West day-after vision impairment. Well, that and the stumbling.

So, it would seem that Jimmy isn’t all that concerned with the possibility of a hurricane. If you’re in the southern Keys, though, there probably aren’t many places to run and hide. Given the state of storm tracking technology back in the 70s as compared to today, Buffett’s reaction is probably a little more commonplace for the time…and place.

Then, Jimmy becomes a little pensive and reflects on his Key West lifestyle, realizing he must slow down at some point. His pace must have been a little fast because he mentions needing some rest and feeling tired more than once. Back in the 70s and even the 80s, Key West was an ideal place to tie one on and the sleep it off. Buffett and his music were heavily influenced by the Key West scene, and vice versa. It seemed to suit his song line. 

Image courtesy of FloridaMemory.com

Well, Jimmy catches a brief second wind while strolling down A1A and knows he needs to take advantage of it. So, in the midst of impending inclement weather, Jimmy pens this song while sitting all alone on the beach. Not a bad spot to write a song. Not a bad spot, period.

Unless it’s storming!

Finally, high winds, white caps, and waterspout conditions send Jimmy in to close the shutters and hunker down. No plywood or duct tape. Just a songwriter with a pen and paper, on the way back from a hangover, possibly working his way into a new one, and dreaming of an upcoming trip to Paris. Much like hurricanes have always cleaned out the land in their paths, Jimmy’s insanely paced moments of wallowing in folly clean out his brain and allow him to move on.

Let’s just hope that catastrophe will not strike this summer, whether you prepare with a Bloody Mary or a weather radio and chart. It’s a given, though, that hurricanes will come and go again at some point. When that happens, turn on a Buffett tune (and maybe The Weather Channel's Jim Cantore, possibly muted) and move on. May I suggest something from Buffett's 1975 album A1A?

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MMTT4S - Hurricane Coping Advice, Part 1

Today is the official first day of summer, my favorite time of year. Maybe I'll have a chance to discuss some of the many reasons why I do so enjoy summertime at some point, but today I'm blowing dark clouds into our bright, sunny skies. Massive storm clouds all gathered up, looming, and rotating. Without further ado, I bid you...

Happy Hurricane Season!

From June 1st to November 30th, eastern and southern U.S. coastal residents have the great pleasure of existing in the official Atlantic Hurricane Season. For those who live or have property along the Eastern Seaboard or along the Gulf Coast, this time of year can be unnerving on occasion. Anxiety levels rise and fall like the tides. A watchful eye is subconsciously and intermittently kept on forecasts.

Image courtesy of www.nhc.noaa.gov

I remember listening to my grandfather's NOAA weather radio when we summered at his house, the Surf Pearl, in Surfside, SC.  Pappy, tan and shirtless, would sit at his spot at the dinner table and check the forecast regularly, and if a tropical depression formed out in the Atlantic, he'd bring out the tracking charts, pencils and rulers. Whenever that happened, I remember being scared and excited at the same time, and thinking, "This is pretty cool." It was cool...until we were chased inland and our summertime quarters declared off-limits. I recall helping my dad board up windows, affix a giant "x" with tape across sliding glass doors, and secure everything we could find that might get loose. Then we'd quickly pack up and head west, back to our ho-hum habitat away from the beach. It's a part of life on the coast.

Nowadays, technology has taken the "fun" out of tracking hurricanes. In the name of convenience and progress, all the work is done for us. No charts, pencils, rulers required. A battery-operated weather radio is still a smart possession, though. While I'm sure we're safer today, and damage and loss has been greatly reduced because of better technology, my child-like wonder and thrill has taken a hit. I felt like I was doing something back then, like I was a part of the process. Now, I just react to experts, trusting their research and predictions.

Dealing with the aftermath of destruction, in this case from hurricanes, can be tricky. Catastrophe can cause hopelessness, despair, anger, sorrow, pain. Do you mourn? Cry? Throw blame around? Give up? Pray? Curse? Do you relocate or rebuild? Do you lend a hand or take care of your own? It's difficult to know unless you experience it firsthand.

Image Courtesy of www.nnvl.noaa.gov

Jimmy Buffett offered up a song after Katrina devastated south Florida and Louisiana's Gulf Coast back in August of 2005. The catastrophic category 5 hurricane left a wake of death and destruction in its path. Homes, businesses, and lives were taken. Some areas simply washed away. When the nation struggled dealing with the devastation, Buffett sang his advice for coping in "Breathe In, Breathe Out, Move On."


I love this song. It's not one you'd hear in concert; It would be quite out of place accompanying a sea of sunburned, grass-skirt adorned, pain-free partyers bouncing beach balls and dropping in and out of makeshift conga lines. That's fine with me. While I do enjoy Buffett's standards, his "Songs You Know By Heart," many of my favorites are his more obscure, less anthemic offerings. This is one of those songs and it can be found on the album Take the Weather With You.

Basically, as the title suggests, Jimmy reminds us to not live in the past - it's "dead and gone," and instead, to live in the present. He introduces his idea with a clever anecdote about buying a watch that seemingly doesn't work. Surely he was duped. After all, it has no "numbers or moving hands." It only says "Now." He realizes that "this watch is never wrong," though, and it serves him well when considering how and when to move on - "the time is now." After all, what doesn't kill you makes you stronger. To complete his counsel on handling tragedy, he suggests not trying to explain or shake it, but rather "nod your head," "bow your head," "breathe in, breathe out, move on."

Image courtesy of noobpreneur.com

I'm reminded of a scene from one of my favorite movies, Castaway, in which Tom Hanks' character, Chuck Noland, describes his mindset after thinking he'd never see the love of his life again because he was shipwrecked on a deserted island, only to defy the odds to return home and find that he'd lost her all over again to another man. All alone on that island and learning he controlled nothing, he discovered that he simply had to stay alive, to keep breathing - and that is what he must continue doing after coming home and losing his girl all over again. He says he must "keep breathing, because tomorrow the sun will rise. Who knows what the tide could bring?"

Truth.

Not bad advice, if you ask me.

If this is just a little too somber for your summer mood, we'll look at another option at dealing with hurricanes next time. Until then...breathe in, breathe out, move on.

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MMTT4S - Fruitcake City

So, we've discussed Jimmy Buffett (MMTT4S - Teacher Edition) and his escapist carnival (the original MMTT4S). Today let's take a brief look at his fans.

Parrot Heads.

Legend has it that the moniker was born from the stage in Cincinnati in 1985 by Timothy B. Schmit, a member of Jimmy's band - the Coral Reefers - at that time. Buffett made notice of the crowd, decked out in grass skirts, aloha shirts, leis, and parrot hats, and how they followed him on tour around the country, much like Dead Heads followed The Grateful Dead. Schmit put 2 and 2 together - Dead Heads in parrot hats - and came up with Parrot Heads, and it stuck.

Parrot Heads come from all walks of life - all ages, backgrounds, beliefs, socio-economic levels, races, heights, weights, countries of origin, planets of origin, types of sailing experience, favorite combinations of Oreos. You'll even find Parrot Heads who prefer waffles arm-in-arm with diehard pancake fanatics. There are Parrot Head clubs all over the world, most of which combine a love of fellowship (and tequila) with civic service - "Party With a Purpose." It may well be the happiest, most diverse group on Earth.

Parrot Heads consider Jimmy Buffett concerts as a summer rite of passage. They flock to their home venues every year and commence to putting on the ultimate tailgate experience. Buffett tailgates are legendary. They shouldn't even be considered tailgates. "Tailgate" is way too tame a word for the insanity and camaraderie found in the parking lots before Buffett concerts. What was a peaceful, white-striped blacktop or grassy field or gravel flat morphs into a tropical island steeped in the frenzy of a carnival and inhabited by a million circus acts and revelers from around the world. Maybe it should be called a Parrotgate. Some venues obviously boast bigger, crazier tailgates than others and rightfully so. I've seen too many Buffett shows to remember, from Los Angeles to Columbia, SC, but I haven't seen him in every venue. Every place has its own vibe - from the tribal togetherness of Atlanta to the...well, Vegas is Vegas. True to the saying "Everything is bigger in Texas," Frisco's tailgate scene was enormous and as wild as it was large. No matter the size or level of insanity, you'll always find happy folks willing to share a beer, a plate of boiled crawfish, and an exaggerated story that will contain a reference to Jimmy Buffett at some point.

You can find plenty of photos and descriptions of Buffett parking lot parties online. Suffice it to say that fun is had, food and drink is shared and consumed, music is played and heard, engagements are launched, marriages are consummated, babies are made, lifelong friends are established, memories are created (and sometimes lost) - all in heaping helpings.

Today's song, "Fruitcakes," celebrates Parrot Heads and those who may be Parrot Heads and don't realize it, and really just about anybody living on this planet. Jimmy calls these people "fruitcakes" - half-baked, crazy humans, struttin' naked through the crosswalks of life toward eternity. And we've all got a little bit (or a lot) of fruitcake in us. He sings his argument with proof from outrageous cinema prices ("I want Junior Mints!") to California (paradise?) to our government ("universal laughter ringing out among the stars") to religion ("there's a thin line between Saturday night and Sunday morning") to relationships ("the difference between lightning and a harmless lightning bug") to the future ("Stanley Kubrick and...HAL don't look that abstract"). To deal with the madness of living in a world full of fruitcakes, Buffett suggests staying in touch with our insanity, to "use the right word at the right time" and "practice what [we] preach," and to simply "have a very fruitful day" as we navigate the "jungle out there."

The song itself is catchy and clever and features a full Coral Reefer band sound, which you'll find often on the album by the same name. Great tune.

So, as you watch the news, look at social media, gather at your favorite watering hole, or gaze at beachcombers on the coast this summer, do so with the somewhat comforting thought that we are all fruitcakes, that "the cosmic bakers took us out of the oven a little too early and that's the reason we're as crazy as we are." Listen to today's tune to help, if necessary. A dose of Buffett can do wonders sometimes.

And keep an eye on those crosswalks...

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MMTT4S - English Teacher Edition

One thing I like about Jimmy Buffett is his clever use of words. We refer to that as "diction" in the biz. English teacher biz, that is. He's a songwriter, no doubt about it. Being able to manipulate words and connotations and symbolism and imagery and theme is a tall task. Doing that and making it rhyme makes the task even taller. Adding in music increases the height of this already tall task to Empire State Building proportions. Being insanely successful at it for decades - that's the Mt. Everest of tall tasks.

Today's tune, titled "If It All Falls Down" is a fun and retrospective glimpse into the aura of Jimmy Buffett, the tropical troubadour. The music is a real treat, starting off with a simple, light acoustic guitar-led melody that changes pace and volume as the horns introduce and accompany a carnival-like chorus, complete with steel drums and a whistle. We need more whistle! It's a fun song. Real shocker there, huh?

The words, though. The WORDS! The words are what sold me on it.

Let's examine this witty wordsmith's lyrics, shall we?

image: here

We start with Jimmy basically giving us the old Popeye line, "I yam what I yam," and throughout the song he continues this theme - "And that's all what I yam," though he echoes this sentiment with a little more sophistication and clarity than the spinach-loving sailor with bulging forearms. Jimmy Buffett has always been hard to categorize. That drives the music business nuts sometimes. Is he folk, pop, rock, country, island? Not only has he refused to stay in his lane, he never really hit a defined lane when he pulled out of his oyster shell driveway years ago (I don't know if he actually had an oyster shell driveway - it's part of a metaphor - stay with me here). Buffett's a shapeless peg that just won't fit into the industry's square hole. Because of that, he traditionally hasn't gotten the radio airtime common to singers of his stature. Nevertheless, he's defied music industry logic and expectations and built a fortune. Not necessarily on purpose. He's just been himself. According to the lyrics of this song, he didn't seek to have some mystique or to be historic. He's simply an "open book," a "beach bum," a "man for all seasides." In a clever fit of humorous self-deprecation, he lets us know that he's really only qualified to be a "hard-drinking calypso poet," an occupation that, according to Jimmy, was experiencing a "shortage" of qualified candidates. Since there are "plenty of doctors, lawyers, people to make us things, and people to sell us these things," why not fulfill your calling in a very obscure career and contribute to society as best you can?

In the chorus, we get the origin of the title, "If It All Falls Down." The "it" here is, of course, the Jimmy Buffet circus. Basically, he lets us know that if Margaritaville crumbles around him, if the powers that be discover that he's simply an entertaining snake-charmer who's good with words and a guitar, if his success disappears, he'll be ok. No matter what happens, Jimmy can still make music, make people dance, and have fun.

It's in the chorus that we are treated to a line that is rarely, if ever, found in music - "I can juggle verbs, adverbs, and nouns." English teachers rejoice! Even grammar has a place in Margaritaville.

An oversimplification of the true nature of Jimmy Buffett? Sure. He may be more businessman than beach bum, truth be told. Still, there's enough honesty in "If It All Falls Down" to thoroughly enjoy the song, enjoy the message, and celebrate not having to win the rat race or be something that everyone expects us to be. If our own houses of cards fall down, we still have our authentic, genuine selves to rely on...and we'll be fine.

"If It All Falls Down" can be found on Jimmy Buffett's Floridays album, which was released in 1986.

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