MMTT4S - Fins up!

Captain's log: 14 July 2019, pretty far inland

Dun dun....................dun dun.......................dun dun.......dun dun......dun dun.....dun dun...dun dun...dun dun dun dun dun dun!!!!!!

Image from back of Buffett's
Barometer Soup CD Info Book

Few animals rival our position at the top of the food chain: Lions, tigers, bears, killer whales, hippos, alligators, crocodiles, Everglades mosquitos, Goliath Birdeater Tarantulas, Insane Little League Moms, fire ants. While we have certainly won plenty of battles with the predators on this list, we've been on the losing end as well. Accept for the Goliath Birdeater Tarantula. No human has actually seen one of these things in person and lived to tell about it. Not because they were immediately attacked and eaten whole (that probably happened later), but because they caught a glimpse of a hairy spider big enough to eat birds and their heart stopped immediately from sheer terror. They do exist, though. We first learned about them from stories passed down from ancient talking macaws. The space station has documented sightings as well, which were then followed by documented instances of crew member deaths by sheer terror heart stoppages.

Whenever you invade the habitat of one of these types of animals, you better be on your toes. Paddle boarding the Nile is not smart. Sitting around a campfire eating cooked meat in Tanzania or a subalpine meadow in North America is risky. You're asking for trouble when you invade the stands at a coach's pitch youth baseball game.

Another animal that makes this list is the shark.

Image courtesy of sharktrust.org

Today is Shark Awareness Day! I searched the area drug stores for a Shark Awareness Day greeting card, but to no avail. I guess I must be too far inland here in West Texas. Not sure who (or what) I'd send it to anyway. Maybe a hippo. Hippos seem like they'd appreciate a nice card, especially since they are the only herbivore on the list. They must really be perturbed to attack humans when they don't even eat us. A friendly note might go a long way.

A day to promote shark awareness may seem to be a little unnecessary at first. I mean, when I'm sitting on my longboard out in the Atlantic I don't assume that the sharks see me and think, "Hold up! Surfer alert! We're outta here!" To the contrary, I know I'm playing in their backyard. If a great white decides to eat me, I'm most likely a meal. I would not go quietly, mind you, but I know the odds would not be in my favor. So, I don't need to be reminded to be aware of sharks while in the sharks' home.

Plus, accept for the occasional SHARKNADO!!!, there's really no need to worry much about sharks unless you're in their home. Unlike gators that can attack on land and water, or the Goliath Birdeater Tarantula that can fly through space, time, and even dimensions to reek holy havoc on life as we know it, sharks are only adept swimmers. Thankfully, pouncing out from a shrub is not their specialty. Being aware of sharks while hiking through the Rockies is extremely low on the checklist.

So, do we really need a day to remind us the importance of shark awareness?

Well, for me the day actually reminds us to be aware of the importance of sharks. I don't need to give you the details of the shark's vital contribution to our ocean's ecosystems when you can find more than enough online. Check this out from Sharktrust.org.

Image courtesy of bog.mtgprice.com

In honor of Shark Awareness Day 2019, today's tropical tune is Jimmy Buffett's "Fins" from his 1979 album Volcano. In concert, this song produces quite an amazing spectacle - tens of thousands of fans sing in unison "...fins to the left...fins to the right," and shift pretend fins created by flattening their hands together above their heads from left to right in sync with the chorus. Having viewed this more than once from the very back of the venue (the seats I can afford), I am always blown away that so many people who have been tailgating all day can pull off such a coordinated maneuver. And everyone does it. Impressive site to see. I highly recommend it.

Buffett's song doesn't really refer to the predators from the ocean, focusing instead on the landshark - those guys that spot a good looking lady (bait) and start circling and schooling around her, waiting to swoop in for the big bite - most likely a cheesy pick-up line that drops like a lead weight to the ocean floor. This idea of the landshark has produced lots of interesting costumes at Buffett tailgates and has even resulted in his beer Landshark Lager. When seen in their habitat, landsharks are sometimes easily recognizable - heavy musk cologne, slick-backed hair, shirt unbuttoned one or two buttons too low to reveal a gold chain or 2 that is nestled in some thick black fur. When they speak, their tongues drip honey like, "Is your name Wi-fi, because we have a connection," and "Did you eat Lucky Charms for breakfast, because you look magically delicious." Unlike the actual shark, landsharks are usually just annoying, and watching their attempts during a feeding frenzy is pitiful and hilarious.

So, instead of hugging a hammerhead or leading on a landshark, kick back today and listen to "Fins." If you're in the sharks' habitat, respect them, appreciate them, be aware of them. If you're not, pretend you are. Maybe have a Landshark Lager to help transport your mind to that tropical locale.

Whatever you do, DO NOT think about the Goliath Birdeater Tarantula. Ever.

Image courtesy of Amazon.com

MMTT4S - How Did We Ever Get Here?

Captain's log: 10 July 2019, In some serious Texas heat

It seems as if life is defined by migration.

According to mnn.com, Monarch butterflies take 6 months to migrate a few thousand miles. That's not the impressive part. Its lifespan is only a couple of months. So, doing the math here tells us that it takes generations to complete the migration. A typical Gray whale will travel over 10,000 miles in a year. Thankfully it will see the entire migration through, multiple times, unlike the Monarch.

Image courtesy of
worldofhummingbirds.com

Unfortunately, the belief that hummingbirds migrate on the backs of geese is just a myth. That's a shame in my book, because it's an awesome visual, isn't it? Still, the fact that these little boogers can hum right across the Gulf of Mexico or the Mojave Desert is amazing.

Animals migrate for a myriad of reasons: food, breeding, weather, habitat loss. The migration of some animals is still inexplicable to scientists.

We humans are no different. While we have a myriad of migratory patterns, many of which are a mystery to scientists as well, we do move from place to place. We move to seek better opportunities, and/or better living conditions, to escape, to start anew, to hide, to find ourselves, to lose ourselves.

Then there's the migration from life stage to life stage.

Jimmy possibly considering how he got there
Image courtesy of Amazon.com

Today's tune is aptly named "Migration" and is found on Jimmy Buffett's 1974 album A1A. It's yet another reflection piece that mixes with opinion on the state of things, advice, and a glimpse into the possible future. If you think Buffett sings about himself a good bit, well...he does. He's craftily created his persona that way, along with the whole Margaritaville mystique and brand. Why not? His is an entertaining story. Plus, he tells it with the flair for adventure, romance, and the poetic that most successful storytellers possess.

When I look back on my life, my migratory patterns are interesting to say the least. As Buffett says, when "trying to figure out how I got here...some things are still a mystery to me while others are much too clear." I tend to believe that there are some things God, in his infinite wisdom, planned as non-negotiables in my life, despite my best efforts to screw them up. I also believe that God, in his infinite wisdom, let my choices dictate some of the aspects of my life. In retrospect, though, my migration fills me with awe and wonder. My physical, meta-physical, emotional, psychological journey has defined me and continues to do so. Our summer migration to Surfside beach in the summers of my youth, our regular migrations to family homes, our migration to 6 different towns while I was growing up, my migration to Miami and then to Spartanburg and then to Abilene and then to Lexington are all physical movements that heavily impacted who I am today. Our migratory patterns now to the coast, to Texas, following our children's own adventures, and escaping on our own happen for various reasons but are both a result of who we are and a cause of who we are becoming.

In Jimmy's song "Migration" he mentions the repercussions of past decisions - being a merchant marine had he not learned to sing, getting married too early being a costly choice - and how to deal with looking back. According to Buffett (and pretty much everyone else) learning from the past is crucial. Indeed it is. It's also educational. He decided that it was time to have a little fun at one point in his life. Boy do we need to remind ourselves of that, huh?

I see some similarities in one verse in which he declares it to be a mystery to him "why some people live like they do," clueless to the wonderful things happening "out there" and my mantra of living ina state of constant total amazement. Often, looking back on our own songlines will help promote this type of philosophy. At least it does for me.

Lyle Lovett image courtesy of
esquire.com

One of my favorite lines comes from the chorus. While it does not completely define me, I can relate big time. Buffett sings, "I've got a Caribbean soul I can barely control and some Texas hidden here in my heart." As is sit here in Abilene, Texas, listening to Latino Tropical music channel on the cable TV, this sentiment is not lost on me. While I'm a Carolina boy for sure, my time in and connections to Texas have placed a permanent place deep in my heart for the Lone Star State. I could easily live here, and as I've mentioned earlier, Lye Lovett has assured me that even though I'm not from here, Texas wants me anyway. Proof that my migration has defined me.

Where my tropical gypsy soul comes from I'm not sure. Maybe its from my time spent in the Everglades or gazing out upon a 3AM orange glow over Miami or strolling along the shores all over the east and Gulf coasts or losing myself in the pages of magazines like National Geographic, Islands, or books like Treasure Island, Hawaii, Don't Stop the Carnival. I know I get some of my wanderlust from my dad and my love of the beach from my mom and wherever they got theirs from. I feel certain, though, that my life's migration has help influence it and vice versa.

So, take a listen to "Migration" and laugh about Buffett's opinion on mobile homes in the keys and what his plans once were if he made it to senior adulthood. Learn a little about his past. Tap your foot. Take some time. Reflect on your own life's migration. See if you can answer the question, "How did we ever get here?"

Aloha, amigos!

MMTT4S - Square Pegs, Belts, and Tully Mars

Captain's log: 8 July 2019, Abilene, Texas

Back in the Lone Star State.

Texas is one of my most favorite places in the world. Lived here for a few years. Made some great friends here. Created some incredible memories here. Most importantly, I found my wife here. I can't argue with General Johnson when he and the Chairmen of the Board claim that Carolina girls are the best in the world. I must say, though, that I'm more partial to Pat Green and Lyle Lovett's opinion on the girls from Texas (they're just a little bit better).

When I arrived here back in 1992, I was a flip-flop-wearin', vinegar-based-pulled-pork-eatin', basketball-lovin' beach bum. Not all that common in the cowboy town of Abilene. I soon realized that not only was my choice of smoked meat, my drawl of an accent, and my sport of choice different than the local varieties, I also realized that I was a little different. Then again, that was neither unusual nor a big surprise. In fact, it's par for the course, no matter where I find myself.

I've learned that I'm atypical in most facets of life on this planet. I don't quite fit in.

Sometimes it's extremely slight, like the pair of Wranglers that require a belt to stay up or the straw Stetson that needs a sliver of foam hidden in the inside band to give a fit snug enough to prevent losing the hat to a West Texas gust. Both the jeans and hat "fit" - just not perfectly. Other times, I'm the mayor of the Island of Misfit Toys. In either case, I've learned to accept it, embrace it, and even use it to my advantage.

Image courtesy of Amazon.com

Not fitting in is the topic of today's Jimmy Buffett tune "Cowboy in the Jungle" from his album Son of a Son of a Sailor. Buffett creates a wonderful character in one of his short stories in his compilation of short stories called Tales From Margaritaville - Tully Mars. Tully is a cowboy with a restless soul in search of a different life than the one he knows well on a ranch in Wyoming. His journey to the tropics is pure entertainment with a touch of introspection. This same character appears again in Buffett's novel A Salty Piece of Land and is inspiration for a character in today's song. Like the title suggests, our main character is out of place, as a cowboy in the jungle would be. Still, he figures out how to "plow ahead come what may" by adapting to his different environments, relying on his hunches, and rolling with the punches.

Image courtesy of
Goodreads.com

Buffett is somewhat of a misfit himself. Take his music. Plug in "Jimmy Buffett" or one of your favorite Buffett songs into a music app like Pandora or Spotify or Apple Music and let it create a list of songs for you. You'll get a mix as varied as the Texas landscapes and climate. You'll hear country, folk, rock, reggae, zouk, beach, surf and more. Not many singer-songwriters have their own brand of shrimp, clothing, tequila, retirement community, casino, restaurant...you get the picture.

Jimmy Buffett is atypical. He doesn't quite fit in. It works, though. Obviously.

After we hear of this out-of-place cowboy's exploits, we get a glimpse of Buffett the Unique as the tune continues. He pokes fun at typical tourists "trying to cram lost years into five or six days," claims to abhor swimming in "roped-off seas," and waxes eloquent about our short stay on this planet amidst the constellations and satellites while sailing alone on a "midnight passage."

Just a little encouragement that not fitting in is ok.

So, while I'm not a cowboy in the jungle, I can relate to Tully Mars. I'm still a beach bum, but I now prefer brisket to pulled pork. I love my cowboy hat, though I may wear it with Vissla shorts and a Hawaiian shirt. My cowboy boots are well-worn (not with shorts - I do have a line) as are my Wranglers (with a belt). And even though I stole away with my wife back to South Carolina, her family still accepts me for who I am. They are the best. Lyle Lovett pegs me when he sings "That's right you're not from Texas. Texas wants you anyway." Thank goodness.

So if you consider yourself a kindred spirit of mine and have wondered why the beat of your drum is a different cadence than that which you hear most everywhere else, kick back to today's tune "A Cowboy in the Jungle" and remember intuition can sometimes make up for blind ambition. It's the square peg/round hole idiomatic expression. Or is it round peg/square hole? Kinda silly either way.

Aloha, amigos!

MMTT4S - Fireworks: My Apology to the Nation

Captain’s log: A day or 2 after 4 July 2019; somewhere in I-20 headed west to Texas

Who would have thought Independence Day would have caused such an outrage? All across social media and news outlets, from talking heads and pundits, celebrities and unknowns, indignation was widespread. What have we, a nation once proud of its independence and freedom, evolved into? This non-issue really shouldn’t be a big deal. To think that the actions of one person could cause such an uproar was unheard of a year or two ago. I guess, that’s where we are in our tech-dependent country. I guess I should apologize for ruining everyone’s Fourth of July.

If I’d known not writing a blog for the most recent holiday would have had such negative repercussions, I would have made a more focused effort to publish some words of wisdom. Alas, I remained silent out of necessity and convenience, not having a clue that no blog from me would send the U.S. of A. into utter turmoil.

My country, please forgive me.

In my defense, I was busy, y’all. I’ve mentioned this before. I figured all of you were too busy to want to read my musings. Well, I was wrong. While I was extremely busy lazing about in the pool, grilling meat, making margaritas, and drinking margaritas (told you I was BUSY), Nike was pulling my sponsorship, Ted Cruz was denying any association with me, Alec Baldwin was appearing on “Jimmy Kimmel Live” in efforts to arrange Hollywood boycotts of my blog. I even heard there was a march or something in D.C., complete with tanks.

Everybody take a deep breath.

Even Betsy Ross took a break from her sewing to enjoy some time in the township’s swimming hole on a giant swan float, a hard cider in one hand and a grilled mutton role in the other.

In an effort to appease the masses and correct our perspective, here you go:

Lots of you still have fireworks left from the 4^th, correct? If not, all those stands that miraculously pop up at the end of June and advertise the "lowest prices, period" still have lots of product in stock, probably at buy 1 get 35 free. If you’re into an amateur, self-created, life-limb-and-property-endangering pyrotechnic extravaganza, then grab a bag full of rockets, poppers, flares, and cherry bombs, a lighter, and your imagination and read further.

Just don’t let this happen. Or this.

If you’re more of oyster than a pearl, and prefer to watch the show, you can read further as well.

If you’re a dog, you’ll probably not appreciate this post.

Image courtesy of Amazon.com

Jimmy Buffett is a self-proclaimed pyromaniac. Not criminally. He just enjoys a good fire, especially if it involves sending rockets soaring through the night sky, exploding into tails and blasts of various colors.

On his 1995 Barometer Soup album, he sings about a time he had the opportunity to be a guest bombardier on the island of St. Maarten with some friends who own a fireworks company in the French Antilles. That song is titled “The Night I Painted theSky.” No cryptic message here. Just a neat way to think about how our lower atmosphere looks at this time of year.

Image from CD booklet from Barometer Soup

So, sneak this tune into your patriotic playlist (maybe replace “Born in the USA” or “Pink Houses,” which are not all that complimentary of the American way) and enjoy the nighttime canvas a little while longer.

Now, can we all just get along?

Aloha, amigos and God Bless America!

MMTT4S - Man or Manatee?

Captain's log: A few days later.

Aloha, amigos!

Just a few short days ago I found myself on an impromptu beach trip with my family to Sullivan's Island. Today, I find myself on the third trip to clean one of my brother-in-law's and sister's vacation rental homes. Among these cleaning trips, I've made 3 official tours of colleges (2 in Charleston!) that my daughter is interested in attending in a little over a year from now and attended a moving Celebration of Liberty at First Baptist Church in Columbia. It's amazing what the tide brings in from day to day.

My wife and I clean houses for a second job. We're both teachers, you see. I just heard a collective "oohhhhh," that indicates you all now understand why we have a second job. We're blessed to have the opportunity, actually. My sister and her husband have five vacation rentals and we clean three of them. We clean the roomy "Lady Bug" mountain home in Bat Cave, NC, near idyllic Lake Lure and scenic Chimney Rock. We clean "Purple Martin" out on Lake Murray in the heart of South Carolina, complete with large back deck and a pavilion that overlooks the boat dock. We also clean a small cabin and large over-the-barn finished loft - rustic hunting luxury at its best - out in the countryside of Winnsboro, SC. There was a time we also cleaned the "Blue Crab" house on the marsh in Coosawhatchie in SC's low country. The drive was a bit much, though, so we gave it up. The fifth rental is a condo in St. Thomas. Ran the numbers and the cost of getting to the islands slightly outweighed the money we'd make on cleaning a 2-room condo. Plus, you know me, we might go down to clean and never return.

I say "blessed" because without this opportunity, we'd be extremely hard-pressed to allow our kids to be on the drum line in the band, play sports, travel with Student Leadership University to Orlando, D.C., France and England, and Israel, go on mission trips, have cell phones, run the AC in the summer, have a working vehicle, eat. My wife and I both have very generous families and friends that have helped us live as fortunately as we do as well.

Life is good. But we're busy!

Image courtesy of disney.wikia.com

Adulthood is filled with unspeakable joy and unshakable terror. With the benefits come the responsibilities. When you throw a spouse and then kids into the mix, it just gets plum crazy. (Side note: don't take that literally - you probably shouldn't throw a spouse or kids.) If you wish to be a good person, you gotta adapt and change as life's seasons come and go. So many parents, I notice, have a hard time transitioning from the glorious freedom of life without kids to a life besieged by sacrifice. You can't be the same people.  And it's WORTH IT! This, I might add, is coming from a hopeless dreamer, a Peter Pan fan. You know, that guy that never quite fit the mold or even fit in. Live and learn - that's what I try to do.

Still, while growing older brings with it additional responsibilities and benefits, new pleasures and pain, it doesn't have to be boring or plain or depressing or even normal. You can't turn back the aging process, but you can determine how you handle it.

Some things you just have to accept.

The other day, my kids beat me in a game of around-the-world on the basketball court for the first time ever. My pride took a momentary hit, but that feeling passed quickly. I guess I realized my main goal was not to beat them, but rather it was to play with them. The older they get, the more I treasure those opportunities. So, I accepted the loss as a byproduct that may accompany spending time playing with my younger, more physically fit kids. Still, I was playing with them. That doesn't sound like a grownup thing. Grownups work, they don't play. We go to work. We work at work. We bring work home. We work in the yard or on the car or in the kitchen. We work at being better workers, spouses, parents. And it does require a lot of work. Maybe, though, we should also play at being better parents, spouses, etc.

Instead of griping at our kids to "just grow up," maybe we should look at the remote control of our own lives, hit pause, and press play.

Don't misunderstand. We shouldn't shirk our responsibilities - we need to be the best people we can be in our moments of life, and that requires figuring out who that is and what's required. Yet, we should retain the wonder and playfulness of our youth. I guess it's a difficult balance, especially when our society and culture of busy-ness, consumption, and egomania often preaches the opposite.

Image courtesy of redvdit.net

Again, I take you to a code I've adopted from Joe Versus the Volcano - to be truly awake and live in a state of constant, total amazement. That sounds more child-like, doesn't it? Well, it's often easier for a child. It's hard to do for us adults. It's definitely worthwhile, though.

Buffett sings a song called "Growing Older But Not Up." It can be found on his 1981 album titled Coconut Telegraph. Jimmy bemoans the fact that growing older keeps us from performing at the same level we once did. Me losing to my kids in Around-the-World, he breaking his leg while rounding the bases. The aches and pains as our bones become more brittle and our muscles, tendons, and ligaments less elastic are a part of growing older. Retaining that flexible mind, though, can prevent growing up - at least the mundane version of it. Constant, total amazement requires mental flexibility. So does being an adult.

This song also features a manatee. Completely off topic here, but manatees are simply wonderful creatures. And we aren't them. In comparison to us, Buffett mentions that manatees are just the opposite - with bodies that are "quite flexible" but a "barnacle brain [that] won't bend." Then again, maybe some of us are more like that than we care to admit.

So listen to today's pleasant tune; love a manatee, but don't be one; grow old (simply requires staying alive, just takes a while); and be careful how you grow up.

For me today, after scrubbing bathrooms and mopping floors to help support our cost of living (growing older), we're going to a baseball game and watching a fireworks show (but not up).

Then, I'm going to get in a few private shooting sessions in the gym...