My World Travels Lost Treasure

by Jonan Keeny

My first recollection of Jimmy Buffett, at least outside of the song “Margaritaville,” was through a high school friend of mine. He was absolutely obsessed with Jimmy’s music. I, on the other hand, was obsessed with Metallica, Pearl Jam, Nirvana, and many other bands nowhere near the same vibe as Jimmy. As it turned out, that friend and I roomed together our first year in college. You might think that that was a perfect opportunity for Jimmy to grow on me, and it probably was. But he didn’t.

A few years later, while I was in grad school, I was gathering supplies for a road trip that would take around 20 hours one-way. As I was finishing up my caffeine and sugar gathering, I realized that I had been listening to the same CDs in my car for quite some time, so I allowed myself to splurge on one new album to throw in the player. For some reason, the album I chose that day was Jimmy’s “Songs You Know By Heart.”

As I began my trip, new music blasting, I chuckled to myself for making that disc my new music purchase. But I quickly got pulled in by the wonderful sentiments Jimmy was so eloquently able to convey through his lyrics. It didn’t take me long to realize that the man was an absolute lyrical genius and I had most definitely been missing out for years. Before too long, I became my former friend/ roommate and insisted people stop and “listen to this line, it’s amazing!”

Despite my formal studies being in classical music, Jimmy stayed with me pretty constantly. He became my go-to, rather than the previously mentioned bands. When I started buying his live albums, my love for his music grew even more. And I think that is when/where I realized his additional genius: He surrounded himself with world-class musicians, many of whom didn’t need to be anyone’s side person. But they were. And when I first saw him/them in person, I saw the love they all had for the music and for each other. And the crowd?!?!? What an incredible, positive spectacle; a sea of humanity that was as diverse as the fishes in the ocean. I was in awe of the “Parrotheads” and their commitment to the ridiculousness that was a Jimmy Buffett tailgate. I was in awe at the varying ages of the fans. I was in awe of the energy that the fans, as a whole, exhibited. The buzz when we were instructed to get our “Fins up!” We hung on each word of every story he told. What was each of us outside of the show? It didn’t matter. During that time we spent together, enjoying the artistry of that tropical troubadour and the Coral Reefers, we were family. Exuberant? Yes. Dysfunctional? Probably. Blessed to be there? Absolutely.

I’m proud to be able to say that Wyatt’s first live concert was Jimmy Buffett and the Coral Reefers. Despite the religious fanatic at the entrance assuring my wife and I that we were horrible parents and despite Wyatt costing me an additional $30 due to the beach-ballversus-the-Jimmy. I hope that one night in Charlotte is enough for Wyatt to maintain a lifelong connection to Jimmy’s music.

Jonan Keeny was born in Topeka, Kansas, he got older in Berwick, Pennsylvania, and then he lived a bunch of other places. A lifelong learner and a full-time dreamer, the prospect of grand new adventures gets him out of bed in the morning, with some additional assistance from his two blonde-haired, blue-eyed alarm clocks, of course! Jonan recently discovered his passion for photography, which keeps him quite busy tromping around the woods, stopping at random places on the side of the road, and uploading photos to his website, www.myworldpics.com, and his Insta, @dude4disnet. When he isn’t wrangling two little boys, he’s likely hanging out with his wife, Mary Lauren, reading a book to learn something new, or dreaming of life’s next adventure and Walt Disney World. Regardless of the activity, he’s probably participating in it while wearing funky socks and a cool hat.

Long before Labor Day weekend 2023, I often wondered what I would say to Jimmy if I ever ran into him randomly, or if I somehow managed to score backstage passes to a show. I’m fairly confident I could manage to say “thank you” before descending into a bubbling/babbling mess of tears and nonsense syllables, and I think that might have been enough. But now it’s too late. All I can do is hope that maybe, just maybe, someone sees this and says “Jonan isn’t always a complete idiot. Maybe I should check this Buffett guy out for myself.” So, what are you waiting for?

To me, Jimmy embodied love. The stories I’ve heard and read, particularly in the past few weeks, all seem to be demonstrations of his love for humanity. All humanity. His albums are a decadeslong love letter to his friends, to his fans, and to the world. I hope that love endures.

Sail on, Jimmy. Bubbles up. And thank you.