music, obits

Come Monday… a little tribute to Jimmy Buffett…

The featured photo is a screenshot of a photo I took in Key West, Florida, over Labor Day weekend in 2010.

I was pretty surprised the other day to read about Jimmy Buffett’s passing. I didn’t know that Jimmy had been ill. I get the sense a lot of regular people didn’t know he’d been ailing, although the singer-songwriter Stephen Bishop had posted on Facebook that he had a friend who was dying and he was going to pay him a last visit. Someone asked Stephen, who is very engaging on Facebook, if it had been Jimmy he’d gone to see. He confirmed that he did visit him on Friday and sang him a song, but he also had another friend (it turned out to be Gary Wright, of Dream Weaver fame, who died yesterday morning at age 80) who was dying that he planned to go see. Sir Paul McCartney also reportedly visited Mr. Buffett and sang for him one last time.

We sure have lost a lot of music legends this year. It’s reminding me a bit of 2016, when a whole host of amazing performers passed away in a short period of time. As a music fan, it’s sad for me, but I imagine it’s worse for those who know these luminaries in person, especially if they’re around the same age.

But yes… lots of great singers from my growing up years are moving on to the next big thing, whatever it is. I’ve been reading so many tributes to Jimmy Buffett, some from fellow celebrities who knew and loved him personally, and some friend my friends who loved him from afar. I have quite a few friends who were devoted Parrotheads and were genuinely distraught at the news that Jimmy Buffett’s rare skin cancer (Merkel cell) had turned into lymphoma. In Gloucester, Virginia, where there are many boats and people are decidedly southern, Buffett’s music was a natural soundtrack.

I always enjoyed Jimmy’s music, although I never managed to make it to any of his shows. I did have the chance to go a few times, but I think I was overwhelmed by the idea of so many people partying when I’m focused on the music. I’m not one for big crowds. However, so many of my friends went to his concerts and had a marvelous time. My college suitemate was born in Pascagoula, Mississippi, which is also where Jimmy was born. She happened to be there this week, as her beloved aunt who still lived there passed away. Apparently, my friend’s family lived in Jimmy’s old neighborhood and knew his family. She was really gutted to hear that Jimmy Buffett had joined her aunt on the other side.

As for me, whenever I hear Jimmy Buffett’s music, I’m reminded of being a student at Longwood University, a small school in a rural area, where, at least in the 90s, there wasn’t much to do but party. We played a lot of drinking games with Jimmy Buffett’s music in the background. It always reminds me of being in the South, which is, like it or not, my home… even if it is overrun with MAGA cretins. There was a time in my life, though, that I loved the South very much. I equated it with good times, southern drawls, laid back fashion, fattening food, fun music, and easy living. I still have those nostalgic memories, and Jimmy Buffett’s music is the perfect soundtrack for it.

Maybe it sounds strange to mention this, but when I heard of Jimmy Buffett’s skin cancer turning into lymphoma I was reminded of our last two dogs, both of whom had mast cell cancer (a type of skin cancer in dogs) that eventually turned into lymphoma. In fact, both dogs were diagnosed at this time of year– and one died just a week later on August 31, 2019, while the other got chemo for five months and died in the spring of 2023. I don’t know if skin cancer becoming lymphoma is a common thing in people, as it is in dogs, but it did cross my mind.

I guess Jimmy’s death from skin cancer one more reason to be very careful when you’re out and about in the sun, especially if you’re fair skinned. Bill had his first dermatology exam this year, because of some suspicious looking stuff on his skin. It turned out he’s okay. I probably should break down and get an exam, too. Maybe encouraging people to use sunscreen and get checked for skin cancer could be one more thing Jimmy does for humanity, besides writing gentle, poignant, funny, and comforting anthems for the world.

Anyway… I did enjoy a Margarita on Saturday, remembering Jimmy’s music, and how it made my youth better. Some of his songs never fail to make me smile, especially the live versions. I know it’s not the same as being there in person, but I can tell by the roar of the crowd on those live albums that Jimmy was one hell of an entertainer. He wrote books and ran restaurants, too. In fact, Bill and I had the chance to visit his Key West Margaritaville outlet, over Labor Day weekend in 2010. Naturally, I enjoyed a Margarita there.

From our trip to Key West, ages ago…
Of course I had my Margarita in a hurricane glass…

And below is one of my favorite Buffett songs, ever… This one always makes me laugh.

Jimmy says he wrote this song with Glenn Frey… and now they’re probably partying up in the heavens.

And no tribute would be complete without this infamous song… 😀

I heard this so many times when I was in college… but I didn’t heed the suggestion until 8 years after graduation. 😀

I do like the music, but those crowds are insane! He made so many people happy, though! It just seems like the world is a dimmer place without a little Buffett in it. He had such a tremendous gift for spreading the fun to everyone. That is such a rare thing. So I can see why so many of my friends are so sad to lose Jimmy. He was one of a kind.

All weekend, I’ve been thinking about whether or not I wanted to do a musical tribute. I decided today I would try one of Jimmy’s songs… So here it is. I hope a few people like it.

I figure it fits, since today is Labor Day…

As a child of the 70s and 80s, it’s hard for me to see so many great singers from my youth passing on. It’s a grim reminder that I’m no longer a spring chicken myself… especially as my sister, Sarah (who is 8 years older than I am), and I have both seen members of our high school classes pass away recently. In her case, the person was her first boyfriend when we moved to Gloucester County in Virginia, back in 1980. In my case, it was a guy I knew because we shared a lot of classes. I don’t think he liked me very much back then… and probably never thought of me again once we graduated. But I was sure saddened and surprised to see that he’d been ill and passed away at just 51 years of age. I guess these things are just a reminder not to sweat the small stuff or take things for granted. Because, before you know it, it’s time to move on to the next big thing yourself.

Somehow, it seems fitting that Jimmy Buffett would pass away on September 1. His music has always epitomized summer and good times to me… and especially Labor Day weekend, which is also special to me, because that was when Bill and I realized we were in love, back in 2001. So, wherever Jimmy is, I hope he’s at peace. His music will always bring back golden memories for me… and remind me of home. May God bless his soul.

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Bill, marriage, memories, music

Repost: My husband hates the song “Dream Weaver”…

I have a touch of writer’s block today. I’m having trouble coming up with a good topic for the main blog, although I wrote one about our Thanksgiving for the travel blog. When this happens, I typically go to the original version of The Overeducated Housewife and mine for a repost. Sometimes doing that will spawn a fresh topic. And sometimes, I simply find another chestnut to share again… Today is one of the days I’m going to share an oldie. Word to the wise… this is a weird story and may be too TMI for some people. Proceed with caution. This was originally written on November 21, 2018.

Yesterday, one of my Facebook friends shared this video of the song “Dream Weaver” by Gary Wright.

This song was made famous in 1976, when I was a wee lass of about 3 or 4 years old.

In 1976, my dad was the base engineer at Mildenhall Air Force Base in England.  This song was popular, along with a lot of other great songs from the 70s.  I’ve always liked it, although I was a small child when it was a hit.  It still sounds pretty good in 2018, at least to my ears.  I also like Wright’s other big song, “Love Is Alive.”

This video includes the version of “Dream Weaver” I know best.  It says this song comes from 1972, but that’s incorrect.  It was released in 1975 and was a hit the following year.

When Bill and I met, he told me there are a few songs he hates.  For instance, he doesn’t like the songs “Strong Enough” by Sheryl Crow or “Have You Ever Really Loved a Woman” by Bryan Adams, mainly because his ex used to play them as a means of demonstrating to Bill what kind of man she thought he should be.  

If you know my husband (and a few readers do), you know that he is one of those people who bends over backwards to please others.  He’s got a really kind heart and does whatever he can to make other people happy.  To hear that his best efforts weren’t enough for his ex wife was shattering.  The fact that she used music to drive home that point was especially cruel.  She ruined some good music and a lot of children’s books that way.  She was also fond of using books by Dr. Seuss and Shel Silverstein to make her points about Bill’s alleged shortcomings.

So, although I do like “Strong Enough”, I never play it when Bill is around, because I know it reminds him of dark times.  Fortunately, I don’t really like Bryan Adams’ love ode, so we have no problems, there.  For a long time, I avoided playing anything by The Muppets or Kenny Loggins’ wonderful children’s album around Bill because I knew they would make him sad.

Another song Bill hates is “Dream Weaver”, but that’s because of another person in his life– his first stepfather.  When Bill was about ten years old, his mother decided to remarry.  I think remarriage of a parent is hard enough for most youngsters, but it’s especially difficult when the new spouse turns out to be abusive.  The guy Bill’s mom married was a very handsome fellow and talented artist I’ll call B.J.  Actually, B.J. was the name he went by.  Come to think of it, it was probably an inspired nickname.

At least on the surface, B.J. had a lot going for him. He was tall, blond, athletic and very physically attractive, and he was legitimately and generously blessed with artistic gifts. Although I never met the man myself, I have seen a beautiful portrait he did of my mother-in-law. She kept the artwork, although the marriage was mercifully brief.

Bill and B.J. didn’t really hit it off very well. Evidently, B.J. used to do things like blow cigarette smoke in Bill’s face and tell him that he was “emotionally unavailable”. B.J. once said that talking to Bill was like talking to a brick wall. Bill really took that comment to heart, and it made him feel great shame. I don’t understand where B.J. got the idea that Bill wasn’t easy to talk to. I find him very easy to talk to… but then, B.J. was probably a bit resentful that Bill was around. Bill took away attention from his mother that B.J. probably thought should be directed solely to him.

B.J. was a big fan of Gary Wright’s music, and he especially liked the song “Dream Weaver”. He used to play that song a lot. B.J. also liked wearing women’s clothing and, in fact, was probably transgender. The whole reason B.J. wanted to be married was because he was hoping to learn how to be a woman. He thought maybe Bill’s mom could teach him that. This was not something B.J. had disclosed before he and my mother-in-law tied the knot. Once she found out what his agenda actually was, she made plans and eventually got a divorce. My mother-in-law and B.J. lost touch after that.

I try to be open-minded about most things. I don’t know anything about what it’s like to be transgender. I can only imagine that it’s extremely difficult even today, and was almost certainly much more so in the 1970s, when people had much less understanding and consideration for those who are different. I’m sure B.J. had some traumatic issues that caused him to be the way he was… not necessarily transgender, but mean and abusive. There was some reason B.J. found pleasure in being disrespectful to Bill and saying cruel things that he knew would upset him. Hurting people tend to be hurtful to others. It’s a vicious cycle. B.J.’s status as a transgender person is not what made him mean, although it’s possible that the treatment he received from others, possibly because he was so different, is what led to him being so abusive.

I didn’t know B.J., although I’ve heard some stories about him over the years.  He wasn’t Bill’s stepfather for very long, which is a good thing.  However, even though B.J. was Bill’s stepfather for only a few years, he did leave a lingering calling card, besides that beautiful portrait of Bill’s mother.  Now, whenever the song “Dream Weaver” plays, Bill is reminded of that guy– a man he hasn’t seen in well over forty years.  And although I never knew the man myself, when I hear it, now I’m reminded of the stories I’ve heard about him.

It’s amazing how the most innocuous things can leave a lasting impression.  It might be a piece of music or art.  It might be certain foods or smells.  I have written a few times about how much I hate mushrooms.  I have always hated them.  When I was a child, I was literally phobic of them.  I’m still a bit phobic of mushrooms, though not nearly like I was when I was a young child in England.  In those days, whenever I saw a mushroom growing in the yard, I would freeze and start screaming hysterically.  Today, I still kind of cringe when I see them, but I don’t scream anymore.

My sisters were kind of mean spirited teenagers at that time. In our English backyard, there were a lot of toadstools that grew wild. Sometimes, my sisters would pick them and chase me with them, all the while laughing hysterically at me as I screamed and ran away. One of my sisters went as far as reinforcing the phobia by drawing mean faces and shark teeth on any mushrooms in my coloring books. To this day, when someone posts a picture of a dish with mushrooms on social media or I smell them cooking, I’m reminded of that time when I was a child. It still makes me cringe, even though it’s been years since anyone chased me with a mushroom (one of my cousins did years later, to the same effect). Those experiences are imprinted on my brain, much like certain songs are imprinted on Bill’s.

I thought I was alone in my hatred of mushrooms until one day, I was watching Montel Williams’ talk show, and the topic was phobias. Montel had a guest who was phobic of mushrooms. I watched in amazement as she reacted the very same way I used to when I was very young. To be honest, if someone tried to force me to eat a mushroom or touch one, I’d probably react the same way I did when I was a child. I wrote an article about mycophobia on Associated Content. It generated a lot of hits and was even noticed by the woman who was on Montel Williams. She sent me an email about her experience on the show. Although Montel did get her to touch one and, in fact, kissed her with one between his lips (that would not have worked for me), she said she’s still a bit phobic.

I once entertained the idea of becoming a chef, but abandoned that notion when I realized I couldn’t be a chef and have a mushroom phobia.  Maybe I could have been a pastry chef, but even then, I’d probably still have problems.  And then I worked at a restaurant for awhile and realized that lifestyle wasn’t one I wanted for the rest of my life.  It’s too stressful.

I understand why Bill hates the song “Dream Weaver”, although I like it and probably always will.  He understands why I hate mushrooms, although he loves them and truffles and always will.  He respects my idiosyncrasies and I respect his.  When Bill is around, our house is a Gary Wright free zone.  And when we go out to dinner or eat at someone’s house, Bill is supportive when I have to explain why mushrooms are verboten.  I’m sure more than a couple of waiters have filed away memorable stories about me telling them about my irrational fears.  I guess these things make us more interesting people.

Below are the comments that were left on the original post…

AlexisAR

November 23, 2018 at 11:15 PM

BJ sounds like a real douche. being transgender is surely a difficult way to live, but that obviously doesn’t give him a valid excuse to mistreat anyone. I know I’m preaching to the choir here.

knotty

November 24, 2018 at 5:36 AM

Oh yeah. Both Bill and his mom are such nice people that they attract abusive narcissists. Both have gotten better about telling those people to fuck off, but it never comes without a price.  

I think B.J. is probably dead. My MIL said one time he called her for help after they split up. He was in actual physical danger when he called. I think he was dressed as a woman and about to be beat up or something. So she helped him and then asked him never to contact her again.

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