I had a great trip down to Orlando last week for performances co-sponsored by the ultra-awesome City of Orlando Puppettroupe and the equally awesome Ibex Puppetry. It was a blast doing "A Show of Virtues" there as well as catching up with friends in the hopping Orlando puppet scene.
My trip took me from Charleston to central Florida. It was a beautiful ride through South Carolina's Ace Basin, Georgia's endless coastal savannas on into Florida's billboards. I was excited to pass the Wienermobile on 1-95. The Wienermobile has some power, maintaining a solid 75mph on down the road. That's one fast Wienermobile.
I stopped at a swanky "McCafe" for a Java McGrande. While climbing back into my rig, I noticed a raven-esque blackbird in the parking lot. The bird was eyeing a fry, baked to super-crispy in the warming Florida sun. As I looked closer I was amazed to see the bird had only one leg. How curious. The bird seemed to handle the handicap in stride. I watched as bird and fry ascended to a power line and marveled how he or she landed and steadied on the single appendage with little trouble. Ahh, life's little dramas.
My constant companion on this trip, as often is the case, was the music of Jimmy Buffett. For years I've waged a quiet crusade for this man's body of work; over 30 albums, novels, short stories, a kick-ass musical! My heart falls when people equate him with such pablum as "Cheeseburger in Paradise." Leave this silly fun to the escapist parrotheads that flock to his concerts in grass skirts and coconut shell bras. It's the deeper cuts of the album where I find solace.
I feel buoyed enough to openly share these comments here after none other than Bob Dylan recently tagged Buffett as one of his favorite songwriters, naming Buffett's "Death of an Unpopular Poet" and "He Went to Paris" as specific gems in the repertoire. What an affirmation! Long overdue!
So, I leave you with the lyrics from a Buffett masterpiece, inspired by the above-mentioned Mark Twain. Twain wrote in his classic "Following the Equator" about the tragic Remittance Man who was paid by his family to stay away from them. So, here's a little "mental floss" for you, to use another classic Buffett image:
THE REMITTANCE MAN, by Jimmy Buffett
Sinner on the mainland
He's a sinner on the sea
He looks for absolution
Not accountability
How many destinations
Oh God he's seen them all
He collects his precious pittance
Never a port of call
Remittance Man
Blacksheep of the family clan
Broke too many rules along the way
Remittance Man
So far away from home
No they'll never understand
The Remittance Man
A man of empty pockets
From jingling his change
The idleness and grieving
For all that he retains
By the harbour lights of Sydney
Or the Bora Bora moon
He recites his sad confession
To the seagulls and the loons
Remittance Man
Blacksheep of the family clan
Broke too many rules along the way
Remittance Man
So far away from home
No they'll never understand
The Remittance Man
Well you can claim that you were born a prince
But you're the only one you can convince
Survivor with no livelihood
That you could ever make it good
But still you dream of what you can pretend
An unexpected passenger
Boarded in Marseilles
An angel full of tenderness
She gave her heart away
She was but a gypsy
He was just a stray
They almost made a miracle but it slowly slipped away
So he follows the equator
With a wish to run aground
It's a very vicious circle
Goin' round and round and round
And he watches from the fantail
As the mainland disappears
Just like the Flying Dutchman
He's a prisoner of his fears
Remittance Man
Blacksheep of the family clan
Broke too many rules along the way
Remittance Man
So far away from home
No they'll never understand
No they'll never understand
No they'll never understand
The Remittance Man
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