A Fond Farewell to Jimmy Buffett, and a Warm Hello to an Old Purple Friend
The passing of the great Jimmy Buffett this week coincides with the beginning of another NFL season.
From every ending, a beginning. I’ve only been a casual Buffett observer and, if I’m being honest, never have I been a “Parrothead” despite a lifetime of appreciation for beaches, kettle drums, margaritas and easy living. The man was perhaps the greatest promoter of the “chill” lifestyle to appear on our planet in our lifetime.
A Vikings Fan Looks At 60
By contrast, as a fan of the Minnesota Vikings I have signed up for stress, drama, alternately high levels of the Joy of Victory alongside the Agony of Defeat. Looking at it from this perspective, I’m left to wonder what self-respecting man of a certain age with a License to Chill would choose purple over parrots? Frankly I’m shocked that I never gave up on the frustration of Viking fandom and move to some Carribean beach town where Buffett cover bands play into the night and the living is easy.
And yet, I’ve made my choice. I can’t make a claim on the Buffett lifestyle, but I am an appreciator of it. Likewise, his music never became a centerpiece of my album, then CD, then MP3 collections, nor my Spotify playlists. Nevertheless, I’ll always tell you that “Come Monday” belongs on anyone’s Top 250 list of greatest songs of all time. It’s an aching ode to love, to homesickness, to having someone waiting for you—someone who belongs by your side, and you by theirs. It’s a 3-minute masterpiece. And it’s almost as catchy as “Skol Vikings”.
And so I’m about to seriously mess with perfection. How, you ask? Well, this is, after all, a Vikings blog, not a Jimmy Buffett blog. And after listening to “Come Monday” a few dozen times in the week of Jimmy’s passing, knowing that all things are born anew with the Opening Kickoff, I found myself humming the tune while contemplating what it means to be a Viking fan.
I’ve been on this earth 59 years now, and for 52 a Vikings fan. Jimmy Buffet has left me feeling wistful about my remaining years, about how many more chances I might have to watch my team advance to (and win??) a Super Bowl, and about the shamefully low amount of tequila I consume on a weekly basis.
It’s also got me feeling downright poetic. And so, the contrast between Parrothood and Viking fandom inspired me to rewrite Buffett’s classic song as an ode to Viking fandom at the dawn of the new season. Hum along, you know the tune…
With Apologies to Jimmy Buffett….
COME SUNDAY
It’s been such a long, hot summer
Kinda feels like I’m missing a friend
I got my purple hoodie on
I guess I’m ready to go through the ringer again
Good or bad, I know my favorite team
Is about to start making me scream
Come Sunday, it’ll be alright
Come Sunday, I’ll be watching the Vikes
I spent hundreds of days in a post-playoff haze
And I just want a Super Bowl ride.
Why do I keep on believing?
Einstein might say that I’ve gone insane
I think this time is gonna be different
Don’t know why, I just can’t explain
I keep wishing for some new result
Am I a fan or am I in a cult?
Come Sunday, it’ll be alright
Come Sunday, I’ll be watching the Vikes
I spent hundreds of days in a post-playoff haze
And I just want a Super Bowl ride.
I can’t help it honey,
Feel like I’m Charlie Brown
Lucy keeps pulling that football
Yet still I believe with each Viking touchdown.
I remember when Anderson missed left,
Darren Nelson’s muff at the one,
Brett Favre’s interception in ‘09
And forty-one nothing wasn’t much fun
So many times, so close yet so far
With every failure, a deepening scar
Come Sunday, it’ll be alright
Come Sunday, I’ll be watching the Vikes
I spent hundreds of days in a post-playoff haze
And I just want a Super Bowl Ride.
I spent hundreds of days in a post-playoff haze,
And I just want a Super Bowl Ride.
Raise your margarita glasses. Here’s to Jimmy Buffett. Here’s to kicking off another Vikings season. Here’s to keeping it chill. Here’s to taking the good with the bad. And here’s to that Super Bowl Ride – Skol Vikings!
