Back then, Denver was a dusty old cowtown. It felt like a small town. Hell the total population of CO couldn't have been more than 1 million.
Red Rocks back then was somethin'. The stars would light up the sky, because there wasn't the light pollution there is now. You could see to Kansas.
It was a great show. Jimmy's songs about fishin', smuggling drugs, drinking, women, and sailing connected with the West and the hippie cowboys in the audience including yours truly. I remember leaving the show thinking how cool it all was.
Jimmy sang about paradise and adventures. Kicking back under the stars on a boat or white sandy beach. He might as well have been singing about Colorado. Back then Denver and Colorado were the coolest places nobody had heard of. I listened to Jimmy so much I think I wore out my Jimmy Buffett records.
A few years later I went to see Jimmy again at Fiddler's Green in Denver. My date was an accountant who drank too much. We met up with some of her accountant friends.
Parrotheads had become a thing by then. I remember looking around at the crowd of yuppies thinking, who the fuck are all these people and why do they like Jimmy Buffett? How on earth could Jimmy's songs ring true for them?
Years later it occurred to me that the accountants and yuppies heard the same thing I did in Jimmy's music - escapism. Jimmy's songs got us to a place in our minds where life was simple. His lyrics were soothing, and therapeutic.
Like Trying To Reason With Hurricane Season off of A1A, my favorite Jimmy Buffett record:
And now I must confess
I could use some rest
I can't run at this pace very long
Yes it's quite insane
Think I hurt my brain
But it cleans me out, then I can go on
I'll be playing Jimmy's music on repeat today.
Thanks for all the trips Jimmy - real and imagined. Your music helps get me through the storm.
James William Buffett (December 25, 1946 – September 1, 2023)
tty next time,