Meeting Jimmy Buffett
On knowing what to ask, and making the ask...
Meeting my Heroes is an occasional essay series from Matt Carmichael.
I appreciate people who do what they do, do it well, give the people what they want, and seemingly live the life they want in the meantime. Jimmy Buffett was one of those people. Dude only famously only played shows on Tuesday, Thursday and Saturday, to the point that he titled one of his live records that. As he wrote in the liner notes, “When our ship comes in, the party begins. If angst is your diet and serious thought is your idea of recreation, then PLEASE DON’T BUY THIS RECORD. But, if you like the beach, need some escapism and like to laugh, stomp and dance, then you have come to the right spot. And, YOU ARE NOT ALONE.”
There’s that phrase again: You are not alone.
Music brings people together. Those people can form communities. Loosely, or tightly. For a couple hours or a couple of decades. Buffett’s fans were the Parrotheads. There were a lot of them. He reliably sold out the large venues where Pam worked, and where I was house photographer, and probably did ok on the concessions gross for the day, too. He was a VIP in the concert business, a profit juggernaut on the scale of better-known artists like The Rolling Stones or U2.
I… was not a Parrothead. But I’m glad I had the chance to see the carnival in action in the same way I’m glad I saw the Grateful Dead, especially when Jerry Garcia was still around. Or Insane Clown Posse. Or Gwar.
And sure, Jimmy Buffett wrote a lot of good songs. He played an interesting role in promoting the Chicago Old Town scene. But really at the end of the day he made a lot of people happy. For the Parrotheads, a Buffett show was an annual bacchanalian festival of liver-function sacrifices, ceremonial (shark-fin) headdresses, revelry and offerings of cash to their patrón, Saint Jimmy. His shows were like prom night, or maybe more like a furrycon.
I didn’t actually meet him. I got pretty close. But there are a couple stories I want to share that I think fit into this framework.
One of the reasons I was hired as house photographer at Tweeter Center (currently the Credit Union 1 Amphitheater) was to decorate the backstage area and catering dining room. For years it was just bare cinderblock. But what, they thought, if we put photos of the bands who’ve played here on the walls. This was not a novel idea.
I started shooting and printing and framing and pretty quickly decorated the joint. It was a pretty cool gig and I should note it’s one Pam hooked me up with, partially because it was the only way we would see each other during summer. She had to be there for pretty much every show, which was pretty much every weekend and then some. By becoming house photographer, I would be there too and we could run into each other from time to time and maybe even grab a quick bite in catering.
It was also a ton of work and driving and running around (I wish I had a step counter in those days).
Buffet played Tweeter toward the end of that first summer. I’d hung a bunch of prints as the summer progressed and pretty quickly made the backstage look presentable. He was playing Thursday and Saturday and I shot the Thursday show, then Liz Phair at Metro the next night and headed up to Radiohead at Alpine Valley (where I was also house photographer) the following night.
While we were at Radiohead, Pam got a panicked call from the house manager at Tweeter. Buffet’s people were mad that his photo wasn’t on the wall. What was the hold-up?!?
It was explained that the photo project had just begun that season and that I’d just shot him for the first time on Thursday and hadn’t gotten to print it yet. But when someone is a VIP they get VIP treatment and Buffett was no exception. There wasn’t any way to get something on the wall before the show that night. As a compromise, they printed a “reserved for Jimmy Buffett” sign, framed it and hung it on the wall as a placeholder. Everyone was grudgingly happy. Jimmy could ask for things, and didn’t really have to care how big of an ask it was.
All of that earned me some brownie points with his management so over the next couple of years I was invited to get exclusive shots of him and some special guests who joined him on stage like Martina McBride and Jack Johnson.
Then Buffett was announced as the inaugural concert at Wrigley Field. This was a big deal that they were going to start hosting non-Cubs events there and Buffett was the perfect opener. It also turned out to be a poignant show, as it took place days after Hurricane Katrina hit Buffett’s New Orleans.
At the time I was doing a project for Pam’s work to document the size of the crowds during an especially big couple of weeks with sold-out shows for Farm Aid, U2, The Rolling Stones, and this opening night at Wrigley.
That meant I had the run of Wrigley Field for the day to try and capture the feel of being there for this unique show. I showed up early and walked every corner of the stadium looking for the right angles and vistas. It occurred to me that one shot worth exploring was from behind the stage overlooking the crowd, but elevated so you could get a good enough view. It was hours until the show but I was already in full scout mode.
“Hey,” I asked one of the staff, “I’d like to go up in the scoreboard and check that out.”
Guy looked at me, and shrugged. Sure, I guess. There was likely some radio conversations as people conferred. And then like it was no big deal he walked a group of us over to the scoreboard and let us climb on up.
Into. The. Wrigley. Field. Scoreboard.
Pam and a couple of her colleagues also needed to scout this clearly, too.
The scoreboard was fun and I appreciated the privilege of being able to go there. However, it turned out the stage blocked most of the crowd so it wouldn’t be the shot I needed. Still. I got to go in the scoreboard. And walk the warning track. And touch the ivy. And and and.
And shoot the Buffett show. And grab a candid of him with polarizing Cubs super-fan Ronnie Woo Woo. [Off course there is video of this. You can’t really see it, but Jimmy is coming over to hug Ronnie in this shot. I’d forgotten about Jimmy’s body guard, but man that guy was huge.]
And I also did my job, which is important to note. I really did think there might be a cool shot from up in the scoreboard. Sometimes the shots you hope for don’t work out, which is why you make sure you have lots of other options going in, and stay open to things that happen organically (like the Ronnie Woo Woo hug).
It’s also important to not be afraid to ask for things. Know what things are big asks and what things aren’t. And by that I mean what are big asks for the people you’re asking them of. It was no big deal for the guy at Wrigley to pull the ladder down and let us in the scoreboard. It just happened to be a really really big deal for me.
Finally, whether you’re a Deadhead, or a juggalo, or a parrothead or a Swifty, or a poi pounder or whatever… find your people, and find the reasons and occasions to gather with them and celebrate.
[You can watch the entire show, with some fun b-roll of Buffett biking around Chicago (and probably catch me in a shot or two) on YouTube as it was released on DVD.]