My Letter To Jimmy Buffett

Dear Jimmy Buffett,

I’m on a crusade on your behalf. I have been one of the few people who has always hated the bastard lyrics crowds love to add to your song “Margaritaville”. You must know them and may have even attended therapy because of them, and I don’t blame you. I have heard the horror from bad karaoke and cover bands’ performances of this song, and can only imagine the drunken crowd chants at your concerts are worse.

I don’t consider myself a good singer, nor am I daring enough to advertise my lack of vocal-chops in front of fairly large, although drunken, crowds. However, my new campaign has given me some motivation; I want to perform your song, karaoke-style, in front of a large, drunken, and enthusiastic crowd. It would be worth struggling through the pains of my embarrassment just for the moment the crowd chooses to strike with the classic “Where’s the salt!?! Where’s the mother-fucking salt!?!”, after which I would address the crowd with a stern reprimand: “That’s not part of the song you damn fools!! Shut the fuck up!!” My reprimand would surely be met with shocked confusion and possibly a tomato or two, but I feel this would all be worth it. As you can tell, I am a strong believer in the sanctity of your music.

Here’s my dilemma, though: I can spread this message but limited distance, whereas you could express your disgust globally. Nevertheless, I will try as hard as I can to combat this rogue lyric by joining forces with other people who know exactly where the salt lies. You could be a big part of the campaign, though, if you would release a song explaining in detail exactly where the salt is, and how it’s not in Margaritaville, so people should pack up shop and move on. Together, we can make this world a better place, Jimmy.

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Published:
07.27.04 / 4:54 pm
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My Favorites, Personal
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