I love the beach, but Rande does not. He cannot stand a vacation where he sits around, soaking up the sun, reading books, and listening to waves. So, we don't get to go very often, and when we do, I worry about him being miserable. 


However, one thing that we both love is Jimmy Buffett. He represents the promise of a beautiful life (or vacation) on the beach. So, for a few hours at a Jimmy Buffett concert, I could escape to the beach (or my Margaritaville, as Jimmy would call it) and have a good time with my husband and tens of thousands of other people. 


Alas, we lost Jimmy last Labor Day weekend. As Labor Day weekend approaches this year, I am really missing Jimmy. No, I didn't know him personally. But our annual trek to a concert was always the highlight of our year. At each tailgate party, we dressed like parrot heads, drank like parrot heads, and sang like parrot heads. In effect, we experienced our own Margaritaville. Jimmy told us to keep the party going, but it is hard without our captain.  


I will try hard not to get sad this weekend, Jimmy. In fact, we planned an outing to a winery. We will have a glass (or two) in your honor. Bubbles Up!

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