In its story about his death last month, The New York Times called him a “Roguish bard of island escapism” who “became a folk hero to fans known as Parrot Heads. He also became a millionaire hundreds of times over.”
While he was best known for his hit songs like “Margaritaville,” Jimmy was also a sailor, pilot, novelist, restaurateur, and very successful businessman. He even did some acting, appearing on seven episodes of Hawaii Five-0 as well as other television shows and feature films.
I first saw him perform in the early 70’s when some friends took me to see him play for my birthday. It was what they called a “low dough show” because the tickets were dirt-cheap. (As they say it’s the thought that counts.)
The venue was the Orlando Civic Center, a large metal building that was not the best place for acoustics. Local musician Vernon Hall, who was best known for playing a cover of Led Zepplin’s “Stairway to Heaven” on his 12-string acoustic guitar, was the opener.
Jimmy and his band came out and just a few seconds into the first song experienced problems with the low-rent sound system. There was terrible feedback ringing through the arena and assaulting our ears. Jimmy stopped the show and took off his guitar. He then proceeded to stride back and forth across the stage personally repositioning the big black speaker cabinets to eliminate the irritating noise. He returned to center stage, strapped on his guitar, and spoke into the microphone, addressing the stage crew and not the audience.
“Now, nobody touch anything.”
The remainder of the show went on without any technical hitches.
That incident is evidence that Jimmy was a down-to-earth guy. Despite his success, he never was known as a prima donna. He didn’t hesitate to take matters into his own hands when necessary. It reminds me of the line in his first hit song “Come Monday.”
“I’ve got my Hush Puppies on I guess I was never meant for glitter rock n’ roll.”
While being a prolific songwriter and producing more than 50 albums, he leveraged his success in the music business to pursue other interests. He became a best selling novelist and licensed his laidback persona for restaurants and even retirement villages.
While dining at a Buffett-themed restaurant in North Florida I struck up a conversation with the manager. He told the story of how Jimmy came to a business meeting but let his
attorney do all the talking and negotiating. He was apparently savvy enough to amass a fortune estimated at a billion dollars when he died this month at the age of 76. In his song “A Pirate Looks at 40” he lamented that he was born 200 years too late. But I think he came around at just the right time.
The music he created, recorded, and performed will certainly endure. His lyrics are funny, clever, heartfelt, and joyous. I have to believe that somewhere he’s still strumming his six-string or at the very least enjoying a cheeseburger in paradise.