I was putting some light tackle in the skiff Saturday morning when I got a text from a buddy in Austin that Jimmy Buffett had died.
Note that I made that lead a little self-indulgent to illustrate that for decades now it's been a thing for people to see themselves as a piece of what Buffett was -- or at least what he represented in all those songs.
Those references I made -- to a boat, a geographical name-drop and even technology -- were Buffett go-to topics, along with beaches and bars and other forms of escapism. And when he started making all those albums in the 70s he couldn't have realized just how many of us were willing to jump into one of his characters and become sailors, pirates, fishermen and drug runners.
Or a Frank or a Lola chasing each other with a box of Junior Mints.
Parrotheads, the fans of Buffett's music, span geographical regions and generations. That base has grown as he's become among the most prolific singer-songwriters of our time. Even if you're not a fan of the music, there's little question that as a character writer, he was Hemingway with a guitar and a Whaler boat.
The official website JimmyBuffett.com reported that Buffett had been fighting Merkel cell carcinoma for the past four years. It's a rare and aggressive skin cancer.
Buffett was born in Pascagoula, Mississippi, but grew up in the Mobile area and attended Auburn for a spell.
AL.com's Shauna Stuart reports that the USS Alabama Battleship Memorial Park in Mobile announced over the weekend that two aircraft it has on display had been anonymously donated by Buffett last year.
Many folks know he also enjoyed flying. For a true story about that, you really ought to listen to the song "Jamaica Mistaica."
It's at least a "Semi-True Story."
Jimmy Buffett was 76 years old.
