At our latest Jimmy Buffett experience, during our pre-concert warmup, we were standing in the Nashville Margaritaville, and with me dressed in my full Flamingo and Palm Tree suit, I met a woman from Ohio, who saw my Indians jacket I was forced to wear because of single-digit temperatures. As we talked, the conversation got around to asking each other how many Buffett concerts we had each attended, and she explained that Jimmy Buffett played a huge part following a near tragic happening in her life, and she’s been a huge fan of his music even more since it happened. She told me that her husband was involved in a very serious accident and she, and their children, almost lost him. She said there was a calmness and serenity to Jimmy Buffett’s music and lyrics, and that she listened a lot to his music and it helped her get through the long recovery period, which I got the feeling went much better that they expected it to go.

I have often referred to many of Jimmy Buffett’s musical stories as great lessons for life, and the atmosphere of visiting various Margaritavilles in different cities (Nashville, Las Vegas, Syracuse, Cleveland), and having now attended ten Buffett concerts, just adds to the enjoyment of the “Parrothead” Experience, above and beyond the life lesson stories his music offers. The whipped cream atop the sundae, though, is the people with whom we’ve shared concerts, the people we have encountered at concerts, and the friends we have met at concerts and have continued those friendships. Two years ago at the Pittsburgh Buffett Concert, Sally and I met Amy and Dan from Fremont, Ohio, near Sandusky, Ohio, and since sharing that first experience together, we’ve attended two other Buffett concerts and a Billy Joel Concert together. Four people, now friends, brought together by Jimmy Buffett, and Jimmy probably doesn’t even know it. We’ve shared experiences too, meeting strangers at each concert who became friends for that night, with whom we’ve shared food and drink during pre-concert celebrations, and those we’ve sat, stood, and sang with during concerts.

We’ve shared Buffett concert experiences with friends Gina, Steven, Mary Jo (who now watches Buffett concerts from heaven), and Buzz, with our son Jon and a couple of his friends (Kim and Jack) in Virginia, and most recently with our daughter Chasity and her good friend Richard, and we have never curbed our enthusiasm (craziness?) at any of our Buffett experiences. We dress the dress, we loudly karaoke along to the songs, we do the tailgate experience at the summer events, and we join everyone else there, everyone appearing to be the same age as they, and we, all share the Buffett Experience. I’m sure we have widened the eyes of (embarrassed?) our children some, though I don’t think they’ve ever us pegged as saints in parental garb. At the New Year’s Eve event in Nashville, there were five (including me) of various ages, that I saw wearing the same flamingo-palm tree suit, and I have to say, I was flattered to have received many compliments and photo-op requests from fellow Parrotheads throughout the evening.

All of this, the pre-concert conversation with the woman from Ohio, the inspiration Jimmy Buffett lends to this column, the memories with, and lengthening of, our list of special people we’ve met (briefly and long term) in our lives, the special times sharing with family and friends at Buffett events, and the same calmness and serenity of Buffett’s music we feel, the feelings my new Ohio acquaintance shared with me, along with the “craziness” of Buffett Experiences, has made me think about what we need to do to keep our sanity in lives. I’m talking about lives packed with responsibilities, worries, hustle, bustle, bills, expenses, medical issues, repairs, and unexpected bumps in our roads, and just trying to get through each day with as few headbangings as possible, which now brings me to some sage advice I heard, where else, in a Jimmy Buffett song.

Buffett has a ditty in his repertiore titled, Growing Older but Not Up, where the lyrics open up talking about trying to keep hanging onto our youth playing baseball/softball and age creeping up resulting in a broken ankle and the realization that the mind may want to stay young but the body doesn’t always cooperate. Those lyrics in that opening are:

“I rounded first never thought of the worst

As I studied the shortstop’s position

Then crack went my leg like the shell of an egg

Someone call a decent physician

I’m no Pete Rose, I can’t pretend

While my mind is quite flexible

these brittle bones don’t bend.”

The song does offer some good advice though, to help listeners from just breaking out the rocking chair and covering their knees with an afghan on the front porch. Buffett goes into the chorus of the song which opens with the title mentioned earlier in this piece. He sings:

“I’m growing older but not up

My metabolic rate is pleasantly stuck

So let the winds of change blow over my head

I’d rather die while I’m living then live while I’m dead.”

The next set of lyrics talk about the approach of the golden years, which is where I am at in my life presently, nearing sixty-five years of age, but not ready to concede that I can’t do things anymore. (I still feel I can still do what I did when I was in my thirties, just slower, and with a few more aches and pains now.) Those lyrics are:

“Sometimes I see me as an old manatee

Heading south as the waters grow colder

He tries to steer clear of the hum drum so near

It cuts prop scars deep in his shoulders

That’s how it flows right to the end

His body’s still flexible but that

Barnacle brain don’t bend.”

But the song doesn’t want us to fear, or be too worried about the future, as so long as we are still here there is much to experience and still be a part of, and experiment, and experience if we just let the winds of time blow over our heads, and choose to live like we are still alive and not like we are dead but still breathing. That part of the tune sings:

“So now don’t get me wrong

This is not a sad song

Just events that I have happened to witness

And time takes its toll as we head for the poll

And no one dies from physical fitness

That’s how it goes, right to the end

As the days grow more complicated the night life still wins

I’m growing older but not up

My metabolic rate is pleasantly stuck

So let the winds of change blow over my head

I’d rather die while I’m living, than live while I’m dead

Let the winds of change blow over my head

I’d rather die while I’m living then live while I’m dead.”

So another lesson learned emanating from the pen, guitar, and microphone of Jimmy Buffett, one telling me to keep donning my Flamingo suit (next up … March 31 … Charlottesville, Va.) and Parrothead hat, continue driving my “Tribemobile” Jeep, decorating it with a shark fin, and painting palm trees, volcanos, and margaritas on the windows. It tells me to continue wearing my wardrobe of Cleveland Indians clothes (highlighted by my Indians argyle shorts), to continue to light my fake candles to Jobu’s Shrine in our living room, to keep subbing, coaching, writing, mowing my own lawn, snow-blowing my own driveway, and just being myself, in other words, to live while I’m living, and not live like I’m dead. Great advice!! Thanks, Jimmy!