Jimmy Buffett Laments the Fouling of his Paradise

Well, it took a monumental natural disaster to get me off my ass and start posting again. And for this post I'm cancelling my moratorium on cussing. You might have noticed that the title of this blog is "Jimmy Buffett Laments the Fouling of his Paradise". Oh Thank YOU, JIMMY! Read further along on the Margaritaville site and you will see that Jimmy is actually lamenting that the opening of his new hotel in Pensacola might be delayed. In the words of the Great Man Himself, the fucking fucker is fucked! Jimmy, your songs used to be the anthems of my life. Then I watched you singing at that TYCO party in Greece ($250,000 is probably small change for you). Cancel your Vegas concert and get your ass down to Mobile and hold a free concert for those eleven men that lost their life on that rig, the rig workers that are now out of work, the shrimpers, the oystermen, the waiters, the hotel housekeepers, the guy with his guitar case open on Bourbon Street.

Start being the man you sing you are.

Until then I'm holding a personal moratorium on anything "Jimmy Buffett" I will no longer drink from a Tin Cup Chalice, I will never buy anything with the Margaritaville logo including the mixes and the mixer(Hello? Who were you marketing to? The people who are rich enough to buy this shit would never wear that logo and the people that do buy it are probably up to their eyeballs in debt. I've been there. You?). I will never again coax bar crowds to go search for lost shakers of salt, I will never again win every trivia question having to do with you at the Schooner Wharf Bar in Key West. Do you remember that place and that bar? I think you used to have a studio right behind there. I went through a hurricane with my sailboat tied to the docks there. You? Your books sent me off on an adventure. I've lit the fresnel lens at the Elbow Cay Lighthouse, I've seen G.E. doing its best while sitting at anchor at Cane Garden Bay, and I've skated for 14 hours during a Labor Day Jerry Lewis Marathon when I was 12 years old and "Come Monday" was on the charts.

I will not be buying " A Pirate Looks At 70" because I don't see you as the same guy that bought his Dad an Oyster Po'Boy at the Mobile docks.

My friend, your Grampa has his hand on the starboard rail and he is just shaking his head at you. He doesn't recognize you. Neither do I.
Ever so humbly, Mary Kay

P.S. Always a PS. The cap'n only has two requests for his funeral: One is that I play "It's been a Lovely Cruise" the other is that I don't bring a date to his funeral. Of course, I will honor one request. Which one?