We never did find that lost shaker of salt. I’m not hurtin’ this morning, but I sure am tired; when the show ended, it was way past my bedtime. I didn’t close my eyes on the way home in the limo, but only because the Rajah entertained us all with Seinfeld trivia for the hour-long ride home. If the Rajah is involved, you know you’re gonna be laughing. He still owes me $100, though, for thinking that “the Fat Pineapple,” aka Israel “Iz” Kamakawiwo’ole is still alive. Sadly, the Hawaiian crooner died of a heart attack in 1997, but his music lives on and is particularly pleasant to drunken concertgoers at the end of a show. His rendition of “Somewhere Over the Rainbow” lilted through the speaker system at the end of the show last night and like the Pied Piper, led the Parrotheads out of the Pavillion and into the night. As melodious as his music is, sadly “Iz” is dead.
Pay up, Rajah.
Never having been to a Jimmy Buffet show, I didn’t expect to see quite as much of a spectacle as we did. Lots of people in the later stages of adulthood consuming a lot of alcohol while dressed in outrageous outfits makes for some pretty good people-watching.
At least this guy had the decency to wear a t-shirt over his grass skirt. Saw a couple of hairy men in grass skirts and coconut bras. Yikes! I’d heard that these things happen at a Buffet show, and now I know it’s true.
There’s a tie for best costume, neither of which I got a photo of so you’ll have to use your imagination. The ladies with the straw hats decked out with all manner of beach paraphernalia, including light-up margarita glasses, share the honor with the senior citizens riding matching Rascal scooters with 2 stuffed parrots on their baskets each. Parrotheads cruising in style.
One of the funniest things of the night was when we were waiting in line for drinks and Staci, in her usual charming fashion, started to chat up the person behind us. He asked a few questions, and she told him we were at the show as guests of a radio station, and that I was the on-air personality. The man thought he was meeting a local celebrity and wanted to know which station. I told him I wasn’t at liberty to say, but Staci told him KILT (a local country station). I know nothing about country music. Nothing. So I was hoping he didn’t ask me any work-related questions. Luckily, he just wanted to know if I’ve met “Bob the Singing Cowboy, ” who I gather is another local celeb. Staci nudged me and said sure we have! He’s great! The fella told me that Bob lives across the street from his dad, Cletus (I am not making that up). I told him it must be great to have the Singing Cowboy so close to home, and that I’d be sure to mention it on my show in the morning.
Luckily, it was time for the show to begin, so we scooted off to our seats before Cletus’s son could ask me for free tickets to the upcoming tractor pull.
The show was nice and mellow, and even after all these years, Jimmy can still sing. He seemed to have a great time, and entertained the crowd not just with music but also photo slide shows and banter. He did the entire show barefoot, which made my feet hurt just looking at him.