A.D. Amorosi Beloved beyond his “Parrothead” majority for the plush, tropical island vibe of 1977’s “Margaritaville,” the music and words of Jimmy Buffett forever had a lonely, laissez-faire literary éclat.
Yes, there was a ready sense of escapist humor to his smartly snarky turns of phrase, touched by the scent of cannabis and the taste of Mezcal.
However, just below his hazy clouds and boozy romanticism laid the heart of a ruminative, cuttingly counter-cultural short story writer.
Think Hemingway’s “Hills Like White Elephants” laced with sinsemilla topped by a cocktail umbrella and accompanied by a loping, country-ish musicality or a chanson’s lilt, and you’re there.
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