"He Went to Paris" Jimmy Buffett-You Had To Be There

There was a time when I listened to Jimmy Buffett almost constantly,  this was before Land Shark Beer, Margaritaville chains and the popularization of Gulf Coast Rock/Country.  I don't want to sound like a hipster but rather the takeaway is that I also used to think there was nothing better than games of manhunt in the park and a box of Everlasting Gobstoppers from Carlson's Corner when my grandfather would give me a dollar after a shower and a day at the beach.  Some things you grow out of, maybe with some things it is impossible to grasp that innocence years later.  I think it happened to JB as well.  From the very late 70's on his albums took a rather nasty turn towards more bullshit pop, away from the craftsmanship of songwriting and honest times.  He became a caricature of himself, a money making one at that which will surely leave his family well off for generations but leave fans like myself hollow and in poverty with only memories of a illustrious past.

And there was a time when my life could have very well ended up being a story in one of his old songs.  I had a beard, sailed a lot, drank a lot more, was always tan and even with a college education and good prospects in life lined up decided that I would rather wander around the world as an expat somehow finding my way.  The plan was to take my knowledge of the ocean, fishing and most thing nautical, find work on a sportfishing boat and live the life of a captain.  I'd listen to his first three albums, dress mostly like he did on the cover of A1A with the same bottle of beer constantly in my hand and while high on red wine dream about the lands, people and events that would unfold before me, in the end it all somehow working out.

That innocence bled away quite quickly when my captain friends who worked 70' Vikings and other fine steeds would sit at the bar, they were in their forties or fifties, usually divorced and for the most part seemed unhappy.  Around that time I started thinking about how much better it could be to be the owner of said Vikings and have the economic freedom to jaunt away at will while still retaining a normal life, possibly a wife and a home and not drinking at a bar with a wide eyed 17 year old every other night, picking up barmaids and using the boat as a hourly motel.  By chance the men who owned those boats and I became friendly and I was given offers in their line of work forty miles north and up the Hudson River, close to the battery in rooms with elevated floors, swirling fans and intensity that would drive most people mad.  It did for one of the owners who had a 61' Buddy Davis (if you don't know boats, well, know that a BD is a Saville Row bespoke suit of a boat) and who also had a massive heart attack at 37.

It was still a good option though and one I was close to pursuing.  Instead, a part of me still wanted to be a bit more free and I played a simple Hedge and joined the Navy, more stable but not as stable as a desk job.

In the very twilight of my career now I look back at that decision and realize that just like Gobstoppers, realize how good it was at one point and how over them or it I am right now.  Because I am.  Totally.  But I know that if I spent the same eleven years at the desk, if I made it that long, I would have been terribly wealthy but never have the experiences I had, the ones people write songs about.

That isn't to say that the song is over, merely a coda at this point and just like the song mentioned here I will be heading to Paris in a short few months, a man who still has a lot of questions, still rather impressive, aggressive and yes, still pretty young.  For me the wars took place in the east, both the middle with trips to the far, I never saved the world and a decade slipped away.  I come back to this song, a song that Bob Dylan actually claims as a favorite and am reminded how great it was, how good it still is and how even when you think the time has passed that piece of candy can still satisfy even with now a more sophisticated palate.


-The history of the song as described by JB (so he says) corresponds with the title photo and is a story worth reading.

dwightyoakamacoustic.net

Ever try to draw a circle, a perfectly round, equal circumference circle? It is pretty goddamn difficult, actually quite impossible. Sometimes the most simple things are the most difficult to craft, whether it is surfing, dancing or a fluid golf swing. It takes years of practice to reach that level of effortless proficiency.

People have always commented on my ability to hold drink, rarely sloppy, saying the wrong thing or even seeming as though I was intoxicated. Practice makes perfect. So when I put on Dwight Yoakam’s Acoustic Album, which for some reason is actually titled dwightyoakamacoustic.net I naturally wanted to be at a bar, by myself, perfecting my craft. In this pure acoustic, almost single track album it sounds as though while sitting at the bar Dwight is sitting in the back corner, barely visible through the smoke; cowboy boots on the bottom rung of a stool with a Miller Light sign behind him, white cowboy hat and an ashtray sitting on the rail behind his picking hand. Twenty Five songs all which sound the same and still unique. There isn’t one song on this album that can’t stand alone however they are much more preferable to listen to in full as an album. 

Each one, nothing but a simple six string full body with medium strings (or at least that is what I hear) and a lonely voice shaped by long nights of loneliness and whiskey. Funny enough it makes me miss the days that I used to do the same, usually alone, sitting at a bar smoking second handily just wishing that the pain would go away. Hopeless is sometimes a nice position to be in for a while and self loathing and pity can be fantastic friends who always have your side. They tell you it isn’t your fault, tell you the thing you really need is another drink and maybe that old beat up looking girl at the end of the bar, they tell you she is a better catch than she appears. “Hey buddy, you are here doing the same and look at what a great person you are? She is probably just the female version of you right now.” Of course you always believe them, I mean how can you not, he’s they are last people who stuck by your side.

Around twenty years ago Eric Clapton performed a gig on a little known and watched show called "MTV Unplugged".  With it, a whole generation found out who he was while the older generation who had grown tired of his name realized, “Holy Hell this guy is insanely talented.” The rest is history and the show itself became a massive success which influenced future shows on other music channels that are successful to this day. This album is exactly the same. Maybe one day you’ll walk into a bar in Bakersfield and hear it, maybe I’ll be sitting there at the bar and you’ll witness two masters practicing their craft effortlessly for just as though Dwight usually stays electric in large venues and I have stepped back on the wagon there are times when it is always fun to go back to your roots.