I will start by giving a very helpful hint--His name is not Roger Miller, Ray Stevens, or Jim Stafford. That actually narrows the field quite a bit.
He's the son of a son of a sailor (that means his grandfather was a sailor--that is not to say that he is his own grandpa!) and he's always sympathizing with another man as he tells about a pirate, as a pirate looks at forty. He's wasting away (again) in Margaritaville, searching for his lost shaker of salt, while unashamedly listening to the gossip on the Coconut Telegraph.
When he's sailing, he's always on the lookout for that one particular harbour. He wishes he had a pencil thin mustache and he chews grapefruit-Juicy Fruit when he wants to get the flavor of a cheeseburger in paradise out of his mouth. You know, the onions and all.
The weekends of his life are pretty crazy, but come Monday, he'll be talking about those changes in latitudes, changes in attitudes. This man is always Havana Daydreamin' on the coast of Marseilles. While the waitress serves boat drinks on a boat, he makes lewd statements like "Why don't we get drunk and...(it's a love story from a different point of view.)
He winks a lot while he tells people "the wino and I know". He went to Paris lookin' for the last mango in Paris and saw fins circling a woman. Actually, they were men who looked like sharks closing in on an attractive young lady. They just looked like fins, on a feeding frenzy, to him. You had to be there!
While overseas, he left some trusted people back home to take care of his house. They turned out to be gypsies in the palace and took advantage of his misplaced trust.
While visiting an island and telling his stories about Jolly mon singing (this story was quite a whopper) as well as the one about the captain and the kid, he worried about a volcano blowing. When asked where he would go when the volcano blows, he said "I don't know!" He repeated this same answer many times over and over.
What kind of a warped man would tell someone "if the phone doesn't ring, it's me" and "the weather is here, wish you were beautiful?" The same kind of a man who while innocently watching the stars on the water late at night, would get mixed up with a strange blonde girl on the beach, with some rum, and later ask the naive question "who's the blonde stranger who entered my life."
It is reported that his wife didn't buy it. From the Coconut Telegraph it was also reported that on that same night, his wife sort of had a blonde stranger encounter herself. Some guy named Dan.
As far as I know, this man has never claimed to be king of the road or talked about having a do-wacka-do. He has never made obscene phone calls to a lady named Margaret, whispering to her "it's me again, Margaret". And to the best of my knowledge he has never made any public statements about not liking spiders and snakes or talking about his girl Bill (remember--"she's my girl,...Bill").
If the reader has not guessed it by now, I'm talking about the singer Jimmy Buffett. Mr. Buffett has an unusual way of expressing himself in verse with the lively musical background of the Coral Reefer Band. He has the voice of a Roger Miller and the imagination to create crazy lyrics like Ray Stevens sings. He can sound as playfully deceiving as Jim Stafford, while mixing in his own sense of irreverence.
Many radio stations refuse to play his sometimes risqué songs. But his followers, known as Parrot Heads, listen to his catchy music and find the experience a refreshing temporary escape from the troubles and evils of the world. I've done my research.
As long as we have stuffy people who take everything they do so seriously and make themselves appear smug and pompous to the rest of us, we will have people like Jimmy Buffett who are able to see the funny side of life and put their own irreverent thoughts to music. Maybe a little comic relief is good for the soul?
If anyone reading this has never heard of Jimmy Buffett or heard any of his music, don't feel too bad. I just discovered it all, myself, a couple of months ago at our twenty-fifth high school class reunion. I got smart this year and talked to my classmates about the music they listen to rather than about politics. It made for more interesting conversations and we had a nice class reunion. Thanks again Carol.
For all you Parrot Heads out there, I listed twenty-seven of Buffett's song titles in this letter (also included are the titles of his two "live albums"). See if you can find most or all of them. If you find them all, then go to the head of the class in Margaritaville and reward yourselves with a big juicy cheeseburger in paradise. Some of the rest of you need to laugh more.
--Kenneth J. Wolf #59 (10/11/97)
The solution--Look at the 27 song titles and two live album titles
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