Workin' and Playin'

 

June 23, 2015

Jimmy Buffett passed on the good, if not faithful, city of Indianapolis this year on his tour with the afore mentioned name in the title.  He did, though, schedule a stop in the southwestern city of Cincinnati in Ohio, along the banks of the Ohio River at Riverbend Music Center, as of yet untainted by corporate renaming.

                                                                       

Pre-Concert Preparation

 

After missing his summer shows last year, I acquired tickets for my hometown concert, and convinced my buddy Mark, a longtime compatriot of Buffett concerts and other various unnamed excursions, events, and shenanigans in general, to accompany me.  By “convinced”, I mean a text saying, “Hey, want to see Buffett in June?”                                                 

Me, my buddy, Mark

A Buffett concert, to me, is a phenomenon that elicits mixed emotions.  I’m a guy that pays close attention to the set list.  I’ve been to Dave Matthews with my daughter, and I understand that you are to expect the unexpected, and leave a DMB concert without regret if he doesn’t play a particular tune.  With Buffett, there are the ‘gimmes’, the Songs You Know by Heart, which are automatics on each and every set list.  For so many, possibly the multitude, a Buffett concert is an event, a time to let loose, an excuse to lose inhibitions for a short time, and certain songs are the soundtrack.  At the given price per ticket, Buffett understands this.

"Cheeseburger in Paradise"-You're going to here this one!

I am a fan of his music, and look for what I consider to be his gems, the heartfelt stuff that doesn’t ring of novelty.  I will not deny that a Buffett concert is a form of escapism for myself.  It is.  There is nothing quite like entering the grounds of the concert property, starting with the parking areas, and studying the brightly attired denizens ranging from gaudy, to redneck, to, often times, just a bit crude.  And I’d expect nothing less.  There is camaraderie in the crowd, but I do tend to stay away from the lawn these days, as staking out prime real estate close to show time should be a young man’s sport, or burden.

As for the concert, I will not bore you with a song by song replay, since I can include a link for the set list, but I will mention that Buffett has a talented band, his Coral Reefers, whom add a level to the musicianship and quality of each song.  Buffett understands what he has, and is quick to show his appreciation.  In this show, he put his steel drummer of many years, Robert Greenidge, on display with a solo medley of songs including traditional Caribbean fare like Paradise Garden, and lesser known Buffett songs such as King of Somewhere Hot, of which Greenidge has co-songwriting credits.  Mac McAnally’s songwriting expertise was highlighted as well with him and Jimmy performing a duet on Mac’s beautifully stated It’s My Job, which always entices me to think about my own role as an educator.  Buffett is still sneaking in creative surprises, like the Allman Brother’s chorus from Midnight Rider into the early country conundrum of The Great Filling Station Holdup.  I felt the power of the audience most strongly during the last song of the regular set, One Particular Harbour, as Jimmy sang,  

 

I can see the day, when my hair's fully gray, and I finally disappear...but not yet!

 

Lastly, I pay attention to the final song of the encore, which generally involves Jimmy and his acoustic guitar.  I was pleased to hear Defying Gravity, a tribute to his late song writing friend, Jesse Winchester.

 

Earlier, I mentioned mixed emotions about attending Buffett concerts.  It pretty much comes down to this.  I go, drink the juice, listen to the lyrics, see the palms and blues of the ocean in the scenery behind the stage, yet, when the concert is over, I’m not in Key West.  No, still here in the Midwest.  But, I think of the lyrics of a song that I don’t think I’ve EVER heard in concert, Lucky Stars.

I got a roof over my head,
Someone to love me in a four poster bed,
And I can play this here guitar
I thank my lucky stars.



Am I in Cincinnati?

Or Havana??

Well, heck, I’m a pretty damned lucky guy to be able to go to a concert at all.  Let alone Jimmy Buffett.  Even as I walk back out into the parking lot of a Midwest city.

By the way, Buffett played Island tonight, one of the most heartfelt songs about meeting and experiencing land surrounded by water, chock full of metaphors about love and lost opportunities.  Worth it.

See the complete set list.

Images from Key West # 4: The Green Parrot

After starting my day in Bahama Village, with lunch at Blue Heaven, I continued my walking trek, finding and photographing street signs and telephone poles advertising Emma Street and Amelia Street, for certain sentimental reasons.  With my bike parked and locked securely at the afore mentioned restaurant, I continued my journey by foot inside the Truman Annex for the Little White House, which I hoped to see and tour.

With no luck, and a stubbornness to ask, I continued walking, and suddenly, at 601 Whitehead, with a thirst brought about by walking within a location at 24* N, 81 * W in late July, I saw a bar arise in front of me, like an oasis in the desert, and it was called The Green Parrot.

When thirst is a priority, Coca Cola may alternate with the house amber, and that's o.k.  Upon finding a place at that bar, which was no huge deal at that time of day (2:30 pm), I had the opportunity to take in the atmosphere, which welcomed tourists (like, oh my, myself), and locals, alike. 

The Green Parrot is a beautiful bar, and if for no other reason, its slogan, No Sniveling.  Of course, there's the horseshoe shape, and the music that is played live. 

I must say, I enjoyed talking with the woman in the separated gift shop as much as the bar tenders, who were amazingly attentive.

I will, in the chance I land again upon this key again, frequent this place of business again and in numbers more frequently than times past.

 

A Note to Emma from Key West (7-20-14)

Emma,

I am in Key West
making use of my favorite gift.
Pen on paper,
sweating in its most favorable sense,
as I reflect on the day,
searching for suitable words.
Today I am a Hoosier Beachbum,
in a land where my phone
rebels against humidity.
Where my notebook is my
conduit to expression.

 Daddy

Images from Key West # 3: Captain Tony's

I went down to Captain Tony's

to get out of the heat.

When I heard a voice call out to me,

son, come have a seat...

from The Last Mango in Paris by Jimmy Buffett

 

 

 

I will admit that the opening lines to that song are what drew me to this iconic bar the first time I walked the streets of Old Town in 2005.  Captain Tony was making appearances a couple of times a week, and Laura and met him and chatted.  He reminisced of some "hookers from Kokomo" he once knew when we told him that Indiana was our home.  He may or may not have had hold of Laura's backside when we took a picture with him.  He was 84 or 85 at the time.

Tony is gone now, but I made sure that my first drink would be at the bar that bears his name.  Little has changed over the years.  It's still dark and cavernous, relying on the large open doors for sunlight during the day, and dimly lit at night.  They offer several beers on tap, including a house amber, as well as a Pirate's Punch, available in a large sized souvenir cup if desired.  A Budweiser always seems appropriate in this place.

I've found the bartenders extremely friendly.  Ask them about the bar, or Captain Tony.  It's also a good place to break out a journal, because they'll leave you to yourself as well.  Check out the walls.  You can learn quite a bit about the man that way.  I enjoy the mayoral candidacy signs, endorsed by Jimmy Buffett himself.  Look at the pictures of featured guests, like Shel Silverstein.

As you take in the atmosphere, your senses will be bombarded by the sounds of live music, usually a one man (or woman) show with acoustic guitar.  You'll take in the dollar bills on the walls, or possibly the bras, of endless colors and sizes.  Maybe you'll gaze at the "hangin' tree", which grows just beyond the horseshoe shaped bar in the center of this little piece of history.

Yes, this is a biased piece on a little bar on Greene Street in Key West.  Stepping into its confines lightens my heart, however already lightened by being in the Conch Republic.  But just remember, this is the original Sloppy Joe's!







Images from Key West # 2: Blue Heaven

Located within Bahama Village, you walk inside to discover that you are actually outside.  The 20 minute wait for a table for one on an early Tuesday afternoon lets you know that despite the laid-back ambience, this is a place to be.

After checking out the rooster cemetery against the far wall and listening to the gentleman on the steel pan, a bloody Mary seems obligatory.

It's not just likely, but pretty much guaranteed that a fowl will take passage underneath your table, searching for an easy handout.  Remember, this is Key West.

A mahi sandwich provides fuel for the afternoon trek on the bike, parked outside on the rack.

Images from Key West # 1: Schooner Wharf Bar

Located in the historic seaport area, it's casual even by Key West standards.  Open air, low key, and good music.

 

Gulf oysters, Key West pinks, and beer.  Dinner.

Guitar player had the vocals and the funk.  His partner accompanied on the flute and 3 saxophones:  alto, soprano, and tenor.  Impressive.  Good music.  Good first night.  And where else do you get a kiss on the cheek from your waitress before leaving?

For My Daughter, A Love Song to Emma

You had me the day you were born,

I am putty in your hands.

I am constantly amazed by you.

In a short 17 years,

you know more about music than I ever will.

Unless you count singing along to an iPod.

I can do a mean Avett Brothers,

and a more than sufficient Mick Jagger.

But you actually play.

You’ve built your reputation on the French Horn,

and I love it and wonder about the difficulty

and the beauty of such an instrument.

I’m a sucker, though.

A sucker for those moments when

I catch the sounds of you playing

your guitar and singing lyrics

to a song I may or may not know.

In your room, in secret.

But I hear, and I listen.

I think of the time you played

You and Me

at Arts on the River,

and I fell in love with you all over again.

And now I have these songs

etched in my heart because

when I hear their melodies

and sing the words,

it’s you I see in my mind,

my heart heavy with adoration,

and words I wish to express

to my daughter

who is beautiful in person,

and song.

 

And the words to this song...

Wanna pack your bags, Something small
Take what you need and we disappear
Without a trace we'll be gone, gone
The moon and the stars can follow the car
and then when we get to the ocean
We gonna take a boat to the end of the world
All the way to the end of the world

Oh, and when the kids are old enough
We're gonna teach them to fly

You and me together, we could do anything, Baby
You and me together yes, yes (x2)

You and I, we're not tied to the ground
Not falling but rising like rolling around
Eyes closed above the rooftops
Eyes closed, we're gonna spin through the stars
Our arms wide as the sky
We gonna ride the blue all the way to the end of the world
To the end of the world

Oh, and when the kids are old enough
We're gonna teach them to fly

You and me together, we could do anything, Baby
You and me together yes, yes

We can always look back at what we did
All these memories of you and me baby
But right now it's you and me forever girl
And you know we could do better than anything that we did
You know that you and me, we could do anything

You and me together, we could do anything, Baby
You and me together yeah, yeah
Two of us together, we could do anything, baby
You and me together yeah, yeah
Two of us together yeah, yeah
Two of us together, we could do anything, baby

?? to reach the end of the world

 

      -DMB