It happened one day a few years ago that I was working in the shipping department at Fast Buck Freddie's and I'd just come in from the alley in the back of the store when one of my co-workers came up all in a lather and said; "Did you see Jimmy back there?" "Jimmy who?" said I, "Jimmy Buffett,of course, someone said he's out back." "No," said I, "but there was some bald dude back there." Which it turned out was the person I had exchanged pleasantries with while I was taking a break from humping stuff into the store. That's as much as I know about the mythical Jimmy Buffett, a singer who inspires a following, some people describe as cultish:
Jimmy Buffett's public story is all American and it's tied tightly into Key West, where he washed up years ago with a guitar and a desire to sing and those modest beginnings turned into a worldwide following and fortune and all the trappings. Everyone wants a piece of him and now that the Parrotheads are in town you can overhear guides telling and retelling the myth all around town, his first drink here, his first song there and so forth:
I am really vague about all this, but I believe it's called the meeting of the minds or some such and the acronym MOTM can be seen all around downtown this weekend:
Buffett no longer lives in Key West but he has a music studio on the waterfront and he owns part of the building where Fast Buck's is located, so my meeting him in the back wasn't exactly an outrageous coincidence. That's the building wherein his restaurant is located:
Margaritaville is where Buffett fans show up year round. Frankly if all cults were like the Parrotheads I'm thinking the world would be a better place. The music is easy to listen to, the theme of the gatherings as far as I can tell is a bunch of people hanging out drinking until they collapse whereupon they all go home and plan and scheme to do it all again. Mothers need not fear for their daughters when Parrotheads are in town and the police department doesn't call for back up either. Perhaps they should:
The "nuns" who descended on Officer Fernandez brought out all his latent shyness as they crowded round and demanded their picture be taken with him.
"We're drinking to save your soul !" they cackled at him as they shoved bystanders aside to get their pictures taken. I could well believe it, the bit about his soul; it was barely one o'clock and they were tanked. These cultists are all about being cheerful and they exuded happiness as they stood around in the 500 block of Duval waiting for the music to start. The street had been blocked off since morning with a crew of workers feverishly assembling the band's platform: 
Early in the day there were the unmistakable signs of a Buffet gathering on the streets of Key West:
And then Duval got blocked off, always a sign something's about to happen:
And they wheeled out the food stands and the barbecue and the beer and the party began. 
It seems you need never be too old to be a Parrothead:
Or too young:
Michael the Palm Weaver was doing a land sale business in his usual spot:
And the evidence was there on the street:
They don't call them Parrotheads for nothing:
There was one dude walking around looking sinister in a top hat. I don't know why but they do give a person a sinister air:
And pirates, who failed miserably in the sinister looking contest, appeared to have taken over La Concha, the hotel whose balcony overlooked the proceedings:
And a final thought as winter closes in, from the bus of the band that played to the crowd:
Which would be, of course, Key West.
And a final thought as winter closes in, from the bus of the band that played to the crowd:Which would be, of course, Key West.
3 comments:
Indeed, it is the Meeting Of the Minds crowd that descends annually on Key West hoping against hope that the man of the hour himself, Jimmy Buffet, will show up at Margaritaville and perform a surprise, impromptu mini concert for his adoring followers. And sometimes he actually does appear, magically, to the delight of his organized cultists, somewhere in town, if not at Margaritaville, with a guitar in hand and a few of his band members in tow.
The MOTMs group is harmless enough, but they have a reputation among the service industry employees of Key West as being bad tippers. I don't know about that, but they seem to be a very benign crowd compared to those who just left the Southernmost city a weekend ago after Fantasy Fest.
The Buffett types always creep me out, but I don't really know why. I feel the same way about the Poker Run crowd.
Are there any similarities between these groups? Overlapping memberships?
I noticed a lot of big bellies and double chins. I take it physical fitness or avoiding fried foods isn't part of the membership requirements! Fins Up? Looks more like "Bellies Out"!
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