I loved Jimmy Buffett. Loved his music, loved the easy-going island life he sang about. And I loved his persona, his apparent perpetual cheerfulness. He seemed like a guy I would enjoy drinking a margarita with. Of course, I never did. The closest I ever got to him was a concert back in 1994. It was close enough to see that this guy had an amazing gift for connecting with his audiences, and with people in general. That experience made me, if not a full-fledged Parrothead, at least an enthusiastic fan.
In the wake of his death, I’ve seen a lot of pixels spilled about his Catholic background and the Catholic “themes” in his music. Of course, everybody acknowledges that his lyrics were never explicitly Catholic, but that the themes of work/life balance, enjoyment of God’s creation, and personal responsibility (“It’s my own d@mned fault”) hearken to a Catholic worldview, and must be reflective of his upbringing in the faith.
OK, I guess I can buy that to a certain extent,…
