Margaritaville
"If I make strong enough margaritas and serve dinner late enough, anything will taste good." That's a tip from my friend, Marianne, who is having "foodies" for dinner this weekend. I make great margaritas, so I'll be sure to serve them if I ever decide to make the infamous cheese goop again.
Many years ago when I lived on a 46' sailboat in the Virgin Islands, Jimmy Buffet was a neighbor at the Yacht Haven Marina in St. Thomas. He had a sailboat too. This was probably right after his Margaritaville joined the ranks of all-time favorite, best-selling summertime party anthems. I worked for the Virgin Islands Charteryacht League and my office was on the dock - a little "closet" with a desk, typewriter and phone. I liked the commute - a one-minute walk from our boat.
Jimmy was often on deck, and although he kept to himself, he was friendly and would always wave at passersby, like me. I made a point of passing his boat several times a day and humming Margaritaville, but he never invited me aboard. Little did I know then that I would become an ardent parrothead just a few years later. When we drove a rented convertible from Miami to Key West a few years back with niece Lindsey and her friend, Sydney, in the backseat, I insisted on blasting Jimmy's greatest hits incessantly to the point where Gary said he'd rather hitchhike. These days, Gary is the one listening to classic Buffet in his truck, his fave being "Wish I had a Pencil-Thin Mustache" (or any mustache that didn't make Gary look 10 years older).
Jimmy's from the South. Maybe he might like some cheese goop in paradise...Now there's a thought.
Many years ago when I lived on a 46' sailboat in the Virgin Islands, Jimmy Buffet was a neighbor at the Yacht Haven Marina in St. Thomas. He had a sailboat too. This was probably right after his Margaritaville joined the ranks of all-time favorite, best-selling summertime party anthems. I worked for the Virgin Islands Charteryacht League and my office was on the dock - a little "closet" with a desk, typewriter and phone. I liked the commute - a one-minute walk from our boat.
Jimmy was often on deck, and although he kept to himself, he was friendly and would always wave at passersby, like me. I made a point of passing his boat several times a day and humming Margaritaville, but he never invited me aboard. Little did I know then that I would become an ardent parrothead just a few years later. When we drove a rented convertible from Miami to Key West a few years back with niece Lindsey and her friend, Sydney, in the backseat, I insisted on blasting Jimmy's greatest hits incessantly to the point where Gary said he'd rather hitchhike. These days, Gary is the one listening to classic Buffet in his truck, his fave being "Wish I had a Pencil-Thin Mustache" (or any mustache that didn't make Gary look 10 years older).
Jimmy's from the South. Maybe he might like some cheese goop in paradise...Now there's a thought.
posted by Shannon Ingram | 8:29 PM
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