Last week’s Country Music Television broadcast of Jimmy Buffett and Friends: Live From the Gulf (DISH 166) was a fun fizz of a broadcast which featured a thoughtful concoction of Buffett’s not-so-famous, but Gulf-related selections: “Pascagoula Run,” “I Will Play for Gumbo,” and “Biloxi.” The concert was a smashing success, but the road to the final product was a reflection of the emotional and political upheaval the Gulf area has experienced since the Deepwater Horizon oil spill.
Originally conceived as a televised invitation to the area’s still-lovely beaches, hometown boy Buffett brought in the Zac Brown Band and Kenny Chesney for a free July 1 blowout. Tickets were distributed via TicketMaster, which waived its fees for the occasion. A few thousand tickets were available, but the nation stormed the electronic queue, and they were gone as soon as they winked into existence. Some went to condo owners to entice out-of-towners to visit the Gulf; others appeared almost instantly on eBay. Although TicketMaster pointed out that the bulk of the tickets went to the Gulf area–thus undermining the tourism angle of the event– immediate accusations of fraud and favoritism ripped through the Internet. Even Buffett wasn’t immune from the slings and arrows of local comment sections.
And then, a literal storm: When a tropical depression threatened the Gulf, organizers decided to move the concert. That meant Chesney and Brown could no longer attend, but Buffett, eager to soothe the exhausted beast, surprised citizens by keeping his appointment anyway with an impromptu concert at his sister’s Gulf Shore’s restaurant.
Oh, but we’re not done yet. In an interview with CNN’s Anderson Cooper, Buffett walked barefoot on the beach, showed off an app for reporting tar balls, and carefully avoided saying anything politically incendiary. But at last even the Mayor of Margaritaville lost his cool, telling the AP that the policies of the Bush administration were to blame for the disaster. He was above the fold on the Drudge Report within hours. You may guess what happened next.
Thus was sultry, sulky atmosphere when the concert itself finally took place. The “official” gig, broadcast on CMT, was a big-hearted party and poignant tribute to the people of the Gulf. But once Buffett took a break and the cameras turned off, the tone of the concert’s second half, streamed on Margartiaville.com, turned sharp. Buffett changed the words of several selections to reflect his exasperation, most notably his encore, “When the Coast Is Clear.”
In the planning stages, Buffett also noted that he just wanted to throw a party to take everyone’s mind off the mess. The long road to Margaritaville wound through plenty of drudgery. A disaster bred a favor, which could have become another disaster–but since a cold beer and strong gumbo will always triumph in these parts, it became a tumultuous soiree.
