Blame it on Buffett
by Heidi-Ho

I’ve been a music mutt my entire life, but in the 80’s I was turned on to this calypso poet named Jimmy Buffett and was forever lost in his music. It wasn’t long before I realized I was born a Parrot Head, and his songs brought me back to the life I longed to return to.

I was born and raised in the Northwest suburbs of Chicago, but during the mid 70’s, my family moved to southern California. It was on the shores of Newport Beach that I discovered where I belonged. I’d often sit on the beach near the pier and gaze out into the ocean, talking to myself on many of those occasions (which is why “When the Coast is Clear” is my all time favorite Buffett song). In the salt water was where I felt most at home. After all, “I was born in the sign of water, and it’s there that I feel my best” (not Buffett – but a lyric from a great song by The Little River Band). At a young age I felt one with the ocean and I loved living in California. Unfortunately, we moved back to the Midwest in 1978 and I had no choice but to learn to adjust. We did live near a lake and in the summer I was at the beach or on a boat as often as I possibly could be. That was my only solace. Though born and raised there, it did not feel like home and I knew one day I’d make my way back to the coast. Little did I know Jimmy Buffett’s music would take me to the “right” coast.

The majority of Buffett’s songs are about Florida, a place I’d never been, but his songs magically took me to those places I dreamed I should be. Then, in 1991, I was given the opportunity to go to the Florida Keys. My friend’s parents, Bob and Liz, have a place on Marathon Key and offered it to me for two weeks if I would drive their car down there for them. I jumped at the chance and what a time I had! I arrived in the Keys and immediately knew I had found me a home. I took it all in, living the music as I visited every place Buffett sang about. Since my days in California I had never felt as comfortable in my surroundings as I did in the Florida Keys. Amor a primera vista. From that point on it was my goal to one day move to Florida and live my life like a Jimmy Buffett song. In fact, when I later told my family exactly that, they said I lived in a fantasy world. Well, as the man says, “what the hell’s wrong with that?!”

My kids were young and I knew I wouldn’t be able to make the move until they were on their own. So for the next ten years I endured the winters, escaping to my own Margaritaville as often as I could. Then, in March of 2001, my then 17 year old son, Clinton, joined the Marines. It was just my daughter Shantelle (then 16) and me, and she knew it was just a matter of time before I would head south to live my dream. She was struggling in the small farm town where we lived, so she said “Mom, let’s go to Florida”. That was all I needed to hear. We spent spring break in Clearwater Beach and she loved it almost as much as I did. So during our vacation we hunted for a place to live. We found a great little apartment, put down a deposit, headed back up north and started planning our move. In July of 2001 I sold just about everything I had and left the Midwest behind for good. My move was met with much skepticism. After all, I was a single mom, I knew no one in Florida, and I had no job lined up. I don't think many people thought I'd make it. But I couldn’t ignore the gypsy blood in my veins. It turned out to be the best move I ever made.

It was not long after I settled in that Bubba was in town, and of course I was right in front of the line for tickets as soon as they went on sale. The concert was at the Ice Palace in Tampa, an indoor arena. Kind of odd that I was seeing Buffett in Florida and there was no lawn, no sunset as he played, no wind and no rain. But as always, he made us all feel like we were in paradise from the first note to the last. I never even noticed the skyscrapers and traffic as we tailgated in the parking lot across from the arena before the concert. It was business as usual – grass skirts, cheese burgers and margaritas. And though I was new in town, I was among friends. It was that day, in that parking lot, that I learned about the Tampa Bay Parrot Head Club. Yes, I am a Parrot Head, but I had no idea there were clubs. I was told about the good times and great things the club did in and for the Tampa Bay area, and was encouraged to check out their next “meeting”. And that is where our story begins.

I walked in to Storman’s Palace on Ulmerton Road in Clearwater, and it was like walking into a tailgate party. Buffett music was playing throughout and the Parrot Heads there were as colorful as on concert day. I was greeted by the Queen, (who later became my Moma) I was laid (oops, I mean leied), indoctrinated, I promised to cleeeeeeeeeean the beaches, had sex on the beach (the drink), and learned what it meant to join the circle dance.  But what really got me was when Capt’n Harry, the co-founder and president (a/k/a Captain) of the club, stepped on stage and captured the attention of everyone as if he were Buffett himself. He had a charisma like no one I’ve met. There he was, this handsome barefoot man – Prince of the Parrot Heads. It was not unusual for the women in the club to become captivated by him, but for me, there was something else. I wasn’t enamored by the Captain; I was enamored by the man. As the night went on and I watched him making his way around the room, it was like I was watching myself. There was something about him that reminded me of me. I had always said I needed a man who was just like me, because no one else gets me but me. And here he was. I actually called my sister that night and said “I found him”. It was two years before we would be together, and well worth the wait. Hey babe, while you’re down there…

We've been together for over six years now, all of which have been aboard a boat.  We have never lived on land together, and don't intend to until mother nature dictates otherwise.  And now, we are about to embark on an adventure of a lifetime, living a dream that we both share with passion.  So, not that “blame” needs to be placed anywhere, but if it weren’t for Jimmy Buffett’s music, I may have never found my way Florida, there would have never been a Tampa Bay Parrot Head club, and I wouldn’t be living the dream with the man of my dreams. Thank you Jimmy.

July 14, 2009