Song played to death

I'm a huge Jimmy Buffett fan, but I've heard the song "Margaritaville" enough. He's recorded 200 better songs. Apparently, these guys in Colorado feel the same, albeit a bit more to the extreme. They allegedly killed a Special Forces soldier for playing "Margaritaville" on the jukebox. That's gonna probably seem like a pretty dumb idea as they spend the rest of their lives in prison.

Read about it here.

Satanic/Islamic dolls??

I was forwarded an e-mail yesterday from one of my right-wing acquaintances here in Columbus (everyone I know, it seems, is on the left or right ... not in the lonely middle with me.) She's on a lot of TV and radio commercials that start with "Hi, y'all!"

Basically its an e-mail making the conservative rounds about how this cooing, giggling doll sounds like it says "Islam is the light" at some point and later says "Satan is king" or something like that. I, however, think it's a case of hearing what you want to hear or seeing what you want to see. People hear dirty words in "Louie, Louie," hear Satanic messages in Beatles records played backward and see the Virgin Mary in cupcakes. If you're looking for problems, controversies and things to get worked up about, you'll find them. And the e-mail points out that while the Snopes Web site discredited this story, Snopes is run by two people who are "Jewish -- very Democratic (party) and extremely liberal." Oh my God! Jews are on the Web now! First Hollywood, now the Internet!

And these right-wingers are mad about this doll. Never mind that Muslims don't exactly praise Satan. In fact, their version of hell is gruesomely and repeatedly depicted in the Koran, much worse than the description of Jesus' descent into hell in the Christian book of Nicodemus that they edited out of the modern Christian Bible. So if this doll is praising Satan and Islam, it's probably gonna need therapy when it grows up. Or it'll get beheaded by the Taliban or something. I don't believe all religions are created equal and some are more evil than others, but a doll is a doll is a doll. Unless they're inflatable.

As for the doll, I'm going to keep playing with mine despite its efforts to convert me to Islam and Satanism at the same time. I once had a Godzilla "action figure" and I somehow managed to resist its urging me to crush cardboard Japanese villages. And my Darth Vader "action figure" could not lure me to the dark side of the force. However, my Jimmy Buffett "action figure" did manage to talk me into a frozen margarita or two.

Judge for yourself in the video at the top of this post. I once sat through a 15-minute videotape when I worked at the Americus paper in which a reader kept showing us how you could see the Virgin Mary in the trees in his backyard.

"Um, yeah, right."

Thoughts from Atkins' memorial

I was glad to see that Wednesday night's memorial service for old buddy Steve Atkins was nontraditional. Just as he was. There was no formality. No religion. Cool music. Lots of photos. Stories. Tears, but plenty of laughs, too. It's also the first funeral I've ever been to where the F-word was part of a eulogy.

For the record, I want my death to be marked with a luau-style fun party. I want folks to get up and tell stories like they did at SA's service. I want Jimmy Buffett and party music played. I want folks to leave and say they had fun at my memorial service. And, like Steve, I want to be cremated because I don't believe you should be taking up valuable space on this planet if your soul has moved on.

There are lessons to be learned from Steve's death, but there are greater lessons to be learned from his life. SA lived in the moment. I don't mean in the present -- I mean in the very moment. Steve's life was always now, not yesterday or tomorrow. There's something to be said for planning for the future and learning from the past, but we should do more living in today. I'm guiltier of living in the past and fretting about the future than anyone I know.

Speaking of living in the past, one of the speakers was Amy Barker, whom I wrote a column about several years ago, prompting a nice e-mail from her. I can't find that column now, but the gist of it was this:

As a sixth-grader in junior high school, I decided to earn points by telling all the guys that my new girlfriend was the hottest girl in seventh grade ... yes, Amy Barker. I learned a valuable lesson I would apply later in life -- when you decide someone is your girlfriend, you should probably tell them about it. When my "friend" Clete Price got a little suspicious and informed Amy about this, she spoke her first words to me, "Get lost, you creep!" I swear those are the exact words. If Clete could have just kept his big mouth shut, heck, Amy Barker might still be my girlfriend.

After the service, Amy had to have her picture taken with the sixth-grader whose heart and reputation she shattered. It's amazing how something so horrifying at age 11 is so funny at age 38. Also amazing how I remember that and she doesn't. Of course, she didn't get her heart broken.

Attn: Christmas-loving Parrotheads

This info comes courtesy of fellow Parrothead Pat Mitchell of Columbus:

Peter Mayer, guitarist/singer/songwriter for Jimmy Buffett's Coral Reefer Band since the very late 1980s, will be performing a Christmas concert Dec. 18 at North Highland Church in Columbus ... you know, the one with that massive prayer tower.

Mayer, whose brother Jim also is a Coral Reefer, does a good bit of Christian music in addition to folk and rock. His song "Suzannah" off the 1996 album "Green-Eyed Radio" is one of my all-time favorite tunes. His Peter Mayer Band had a hit with "Piece of Paradise" in the late ’80s, too.

The show, which is sponsored by Columbus Hospice, will, of course, feature a love offering, and Columbus Hospice is a very worthy cause indeed. I'm not exactly sure what my plans are for that night, and organized religion ain't exactly my cup of tea. But it would be interesting to see Peter Mayer perform in a setting quite different from the drunken debauchery of a Jimmy Buffett concert.

For bios, discography, tour schedule and to sample pretty much every song he's ever recorded, check out Peter Mayer's Web site here. His music is light and sometimes folksy or spiritual, so if you're expecting Parrothead-type music, you'll be disappointed. Although, many of the apparently close-knit Coral Reefers show up on each other's albums so there may be some familiarity.

Interview with Jimmy Buffett

The latest edition of USA Weekend has a good article on my man Jimmy Buffett. At 61, the man has no intentions of slowing down as a performer or a businessman. There's also a good bit about being a father of three kids and how he's managed to stay married for 30 years (to the same person). Always good to see another nonconformist find success and happiness. Guess there's hope for me, too. Maybe.

You can read the article here.

If ya got it, flaunt it!

Normally I wouldn't post a picture of someone getting their breasts autographed, but this one just seemed a little different from most such autographing sessions. I'm not sure why. I took it during the Summer Side Show on Saturday where 50-something bands played in 175-degree heat, which set a high temperature record for Columbus.

It's not really my kind of music. For my kind of music, I went to the Jimmy Buffett concert in Atlanta two days earlier. (See next post.) We kinda swayed and hula danced Thursday as one big happy tacky tipsy family. On Saturday, they slam danced and slung their fists around like they were on "Jerry Springer." And it was an alcohol-free event. I felt old. OK, I am old, but at least at the Buffett show there were old and young alike. At Summer Side Show, there were hundreds of teenagers ... and me. I was there to see Dirty Dirty (pictured below), whose bass player Cody Peaster is a young friend I was corrupting, er, I mean mentoring during his last bit of high school.

Parrothead pilgrimage 2008

Just returned from the holiest day on my calendar, Jimmy Buffett's annual appearance in Atlanta. Here are a few of the pics from the tailgating area where my wife, my friend Bass (now known by his street name "G-Dawg" given to him by a thug on the street, though we just call him "Truck" ... long story) and I parked the truck Thursday. Unfortunately, not a lot of photos from the area are fit to be published here, but it was an awful lot of fun and everyone was just one big, happy, tacky family as usual. For a video and slideshow from the much tamer official Lakewood Amphitheatre parking lot, click here. We preferred the more untamed tailgating area.

Me and Bass, a couple of nuts. Mmm, coconut milk.

Alternative mode of transportation

Multiply this scene by 100 and you get the idea.

Parrotheads finally phlock into the amphitheatre.

The lawn people, of which I was one.

My wife with some Columbusites.

I think this guy likes Jimmy Buffett.

Multiply this by 4,000, and you get the idea.

I think my wife took this picture. I hope my wife took this picture.

More Buffett gals.

Coming to my defense,sort of

There's an elderly blind man who calls my work phone before 7 a.m. almost every Sunday morning to comment on my column, praise me or criticize me. He goes to a special Web site to have the paper read to him. How that Web site even knows what some of my made-up words mean, I have no idea.

Anyway, he left me a long message about my latest column yesterday, concerning my upcoming pilgrimage to the Jimmy Buffett concert in Atlanta and how my boss, Pork Chop, is more excited than anybody because she knows I'll be in a good mood for a while. (You can credit the onset of summer for that, as well.) The message began with:

"I disagree with Pork Chop. I don't think you're an idiot. I think you're a bloomin' idiot."

Sucks when you really have no defense for that.

One more week

Exactly one week from this very moment, I'll be on the Lakewood Amphitheatre lawn with thousands of other Parrotheads for the Jimmy Buffett concert. So, expect me to be in a pretty good mood for a few weeks after that. Nobody's more excited about my going to the Buffett show than my boss, Pork Chop, because she knows it's my religious holiday and I come back from Buffett shows a changed man ... at least for a little while. That's exactly what this Sunday's column will be about.

Every now and then you need to escape to paradise, even if that paradise is a parking lot in metro Atlanta. See this slideshow from The Gulch, where my friend Bass and I tailgated last year. If you've never been to a Buffett show, well, I consider you a heathen. And here's an idea of what you're missing:

Sweatin' to the Gospels

I never go to the gym without my MP3 player. The first few times I went to a gym without my own music, I had to hear repetitive hip-hop or songs that may be good but just aren't workout material, like "My Girl" by the Temptations or stuff like that. My MP3 player has one audio track for meditation purposes and several jazz tracks when I need to chill, but all the rest are songs for working out. And they are quite varied, from softer stuff like Sade and Michael Franks; to old disco acts like KC and the Sunshine Band and Kool and the Gang; to hard-rocking stuff from AC/DC and Drivin' and Cryin'; to more modern workoutable-acts like Shakira and BuckCherry. There's even a hard-driving blues tune from Taj Mahal.

We joined a new gym, Snap Fitness, on Saturday. While working out there on Sunday, I took off my headphones for a moment and noticed they had Sirius satellite radio playing. Unfortunately, it was on a gospel/inspirational station. Guess it was somewhat fitting since it was Sunday in the South, but who can work out to that kind of music? Maybe it's because my spiritual views are less submissive than so many "inspirational" songs, but that channel just didn't work for me.

If there were other people in the gym, I'd have just slapped my headphones back on and went about my business, but I was the only person in there at the time. Despite my searching, I couldn't find the Sirius tuner so that I could change it to something more aligned with my spiritual views as a Parrothead ... Sirius 31, Radio Margaritaville.

Then again, as much as I like Jimmy Buffett's music, I can't work out to it. It's music for sipping a margarita and sticking your toes in the sand, not bench pressing and lateral raises. Aside from "Livingston Saturday Night" and "Pascagoula Run," not much of it works for me in the gym. But it darn sure is inspirational afterward.

News for Parrot Heads

Tickets for the June 5 Jimmy Buffett concert at Atlanta's Lakewood Amphitheatre go on sale at 10 a.m. Monday. They're $36-$136. (Guess which end of the range I'll be shooting for.) You know the drill: Go to your local Ticketmaster outlet or to Ticketmaster online and hit reload over and over. They sell out in just a few minutes. I've seen him at Phillips Arena and Lakewood, and the outdoor venue is the way to go for this show.

If you can't wait to get your Buffett fix, the newest Margaritaville bar/shop/restaurant opens today in Panama City Beach's huge Pier Park shopping and dining area on the west end of Highway 98. To learn more, click here.

Still trying to decide whether I should finally wear a coconut bra and grass skirt June 5.

Get Dirty Dirty

My young friend Cody Peaster and his band Dirty Dirty from back home will be playing in Columbus on Saturday night at Caliente, an 18-and-over club near Columbus State. Nightlife diva, friend and colleague Sonya Sorich plans to check them out with me. Show should start around 9 p.m., but has any 9 p.m. show in Columbus ever started at 9 p.m.? Some other friends may join us. You should, too. Now, this ain't Barry Manilow music or even Jimmy Buffett. It's Southern metal, or something like that, so don't expect to mellow out.

Here's a picture of me and Cody taken last weekend at his parents' home. I'm also his mentor for his senior project, which should scare the heck out of every teacher at Schley County High.

Return to Angel City

My friend Gregg and I went to Angel City, the motorcycle haven in Unadilla, Ga., for the fall rally this past Saturday. Gregg rides a Yamaha. I ride a Mazda SUV. Yes, I'm born to be mild.

Of course, while I'm at this rally with thousands of bikers, a biker legend came to the Ledger-Enquirer during my vacation: Erik Estrada, who played motorcycle cop Ponch on the old TV series "CHIPS." Read my co-worker Brad's blog to learn about that visit.

While I'm not a biker myself, I do enjoy mingling with the biker crowd. They have a sense of unity a lot like you find among Parrotheads at Jimmy Buffett concerts. Only they prefer beer and Jack Daniels over margaritas and the revving of engines over the revving of blenders. I didn't have my camera with me this time, so Smitty and the gang from back home won't have to worry about incriminating photos on the Internet. I imagine photos from this latest rally will be going up soon on the Angel City site.

Cheesebuger in Paradise

Boy did I commit a little mortal sin this weekend. No, nothing like that. Get your mind out of the gutter. In my Sunday column about newspaper songs, I had a major typo: "Cheesebuger in Paradise."

Yeah, I know, that Jimmy Buffett song has nothing to do with newspapers other than the terrible dietary habits of print journalists, so you'll have to read the column to see how it relates. Fortunately, that typo won't be found online ... I fixed that. Unfortunately, I can't fix the tens of thousands of Sunday papers with the typo. I've already gotten in trouble with the Margaritaville police once this year. Even though I'm not fond of this Buffett song, this screw-up could very well result in capital punishment.

Newspaper songs

Hey, in this Sunday's column in the Ledger-Enquirer, I'm going to write about some great newspaper songs, some obvious, some not so obvious. Although, unlike my colleague Brad Barnes, who's liable to throw some obscure bands at ya, I'm fairly mainstream outside of my religiously following Jimmy Buffett. So I'm sure you'll recognize all the songs I list, assuming you're over the age of 12. Allow me to go ahead and get one stuck in your head:

So while she lay there sleeping,

I read the paper in bed.

And in the personals column,

there was this letter I read:

"If you like Pina Coladas,

And getting caught in the rain.

If you're not into yoga,

if you have half-a-brain.

If you like making love at midnight,

In the dunes of the cape.

I'm the lady you've looked for,

Write to me and escape."

Parrotheads in The Gulch

With the help of a hitchhiker we picked up in the bowels of downtown Atlanta, my friend Gregg and I finally found the tailgating spot for Parrotheads known as "The Gulch" before Wednesday's Jimmy Buffett concert at Philips Arena. From makeshift beaches to hula skirts and tiki huts, Parrotheads managed to turn the parking lot into a bit of paradise in the urban jungle. Everybody talks to everybody else, and there are no strangers in Margaritaville.

But I got in trouble with the police in the parking lot. OK, it was the "Margaritaville Police," and they issued me a written warning citation for not wearing a lei. The citation noted that it wouldn't go on my "permenant record." When I pointed out they misspelled permanent, they issued me a second citation for being a nerd. I did purchase a $3 lei and the police later struck my first offense. As punishment, they also ordered me to go to wicked Wanda's trailer and have an upside-down tequila shot, which I passed on. I'm still upset that they didn't check the "too sexy" box on the citation, but then again it was two guys patrolling the parking lot, so that's OK.

Parrotheads are fairly normal people most days of the year (perhaps I'm the exception to that rule). But when Buffett comes to town, let's just say they let it all hang out, figuratively and literally as you can see in this slideshow from WSB TV. If you're offended by folks drinking mass quantities of alcohol, you may not want to view it.

Oh, a bonus during the show: Jazz great Earl Klugh played guitar during "A Pirate Looks At Forty."

I survived the mayhem and am fully functioning today, despite the tailgating, the show, a friend's cell phone beeping every 10 minutes all night long, and getting up at 7 a.m. in downtown Atlanta and getting to work by 10:15 a.m.

It was the third Buffett concert experience I've had, and I can say that Wednesday will go down as one of the most fun days of my life.

A "Hoot"

One thing that bugs me about a lot of movies aimed at kids is the three or four cuss words that they toss in there for no apparent reason. In most cases, they do nothing to advance the stories or the characters and just leave parents shaking their heads. Really, even going back to my youth, would "Smokey and the Bandit" would have been any worse without all the cussin?

Don't get me wrong: I'm no puritan. And I've seen my share of movies with vulgarity, nudity and graphic violence. I'm not against them. I don't think some of my favorite movies, such as "Harold and Kumar Go to White Castle" and "Sideways," would be as funny with G-rated words. And it wouldn't have been in line with the characters. But 10-year-olds weren't their target audience.

Which brings me to the movie "Hoot," which my 7-year-old son has wanted to see ever since we saw the trailers a year or so ago and he noticed Jimmy Buffett was in it (he also produced it), and Saylor knows I'm a huge Parrothead (which is another word for Buffett fans for those of you without advanced vocabularies).

So we got the movie through the cable's "on demand" service, and it turned out to be what a kids' movie ought to be. Kids standing up for a good cause. Good guys win. Bad guys lose. Silly jokes. Cute animals. Cute kids. Positive message. And not a single dirty word or even the slightest sexual innuendo.

For an adult, it was predictable, but tolerable. I enjoyed it just for the mix of music (provided mainly by Buffett and friends, including a reggae-style revamping of his mid-1980s song "Floridays") and the Florida scenery. It's based on Carl Hiaasen's book of the same name, and when nonconformists like Hiaasen and Buffett team up, good things usually happen.

There's some stuff Hiaasen has written that I wouldn't want Saylor to read. And there are plenty of Buffett songs I won't let him hear. But it's nice to know some folks know that there's a time and a place for everything. If only everyone else were as reasonable.

Anyway, if you've got kids in the 5-13 age range, check out this movie. And when the kids go to bed, watch "Harold and Kumar" for the umpteenth time. It's get funnier every time.

Phlocking to Atlanta

I'm sick, so I kinda missed out on the Buffett tickets frenzy that began at 10 a.m. But early this afternoon, when it finally hit me, I logged on to Ticketmaster for the heck of it and actually landed 2 tickets for just $38 each. Of course, they're behind the stage and so high that I'll actually have to be lowered into my seat by helicopter.

But as every Parrothead knows, Buffett shows aren't about the view (unless you're right at the stage with the dancing hula girls). Buffett shows are just a big party before, during and after the show. And since I'm the kind of guy who sort of hangs around in the back of a party anyway, it's no big deal to me. I'm just glad I'm going. I know some other folks from around here will be going, as well. Let me know if you're Buffett-bound.

And, if you can't make the April 25 show, you can always listen on Radio Margaritaville. All his concerts are broadcast for free on the Internet and Sirius.

Fins up!

I hope my posting this doesn't mean someone scoops up tickets before me, but since I just started this blog, maybe too many folks won't catch on. Anyway, tickets for Jimmy Buffett's April 25 show in Atlanta go on sale this Monday, March 19, at 10 a.m.

I've gone through this ticket buying mess for Buffett shows several times, and it's a little like playing the slots. Every show sells out in about 10 minutes (must save a bundle on marketing), and each time I go to a Ticketmaster outlet, such as at a Publix, it's always different. There's always confusion, and the workers never hurry as they don't seem to see the urgency in this situtation. They also look at all the Parrotheads in the stores and look a little scared.

OK, maybe disturbed is a better word.

I'm gonna stay at home this time and hit reload 8 million times in 10 minutes. Maybe I'll get lucky again. If you do get lucky and snag tickets, and have never been to a Buffett concert before, you should know that the tailgating is really the show before the show. Actual working volcanoes, palm trees, a lot of margaritas, hula girls, hula guys, you name it. Doesn't exactly fit in the ATL, but oh well. Just thought I give a few folks a head's up on the fins up.