Breeze on the Soles of Your Feet

After my whinefest on Friday afternoon, I ended up falling asleep on the couch Friday night at around nine. But on Saturday, the babysitter came! And she hadn't been here since it was freezing cold! Even though she had hurt her back! And we thanked her and thanked her and toddled off to see Jimmy Buffett in the Power & Light district of Kansas City.

It was a gorgeous night, and the P&L was packed with an older crowd sporting grass skirts and hats shaped like flamingos, and everyone was happy. As Beloved and I sat listening to the cheesier songs by Jimmy, I found myself thinking how much I love him (though I really love his ballads more than Cheeseburger in Paradise).

Why do I love him when he drives so many people crazy?

Because he loves life. This is a guy who made an entire career of pointing out how nice it is to be outside when it's warm. How little you actually need in order to relax. How to live in the moment. When I was anorexic and cold all the time, I became a bit obsessed with Jimmy Buffett music, traveling in my head to a beach free of self-induced pressures and mental anguish and problems. When I was in college, I got a tattoo of a sun on my left foot so even if it wasn't in the sky I could still see it and think about what warmth and light means to me. 

Jimmy Buffett makes me go through my list of tastes and sensations that make me happy, things that are so easy to accomplish it's ridiculous. I love flowers. At Walmart right now, you can get a plant for less than a soda. I love the feeling of wind on the soles of my feet. All you need for that is a warm day. 

I needed old Jimmy so bad this weekend, and hearing all that old music pulled me out of my slump. He reminded me that as an adult, I have been true to my love of sunshine. I didn't wait for someday. I married my also-beach-loving husband in St. Pete Beach, Florida. Even as not-rich, family-in-the-Midwest people, we have managed to get air in our hair. We bought a bank foreclosure near water. We have Vicki, the 1997 Sebring convertible. We have a 1974 AMF Puffer sailboat we bought from my friend's dad for a dollar. We eat outside almost every night in the summertime.

I listened, Jimmy! I am reaching for the sunshine! Onward! (I'm barefoot.)