What would you show someone if they asked for America? One thing that could convey the most about this nation. Is it a place, or a person? A book or painting? Maybe even a time period? If that’s the case, then perhaps The New Deal era says something about us. A sloppy gesture to New York would capture all the varietal highs and lows of this country well. George Washington would be a trite choice for the face of America but for good reason. If you’re of a cynical deposition, you would choose gun violence figures or the Wikipedia page for CIA-backed coups. There are a million ways to answer this question; A million mind-numbing attitudes to take.
Is the question worth asking? Aren’t there more pressing matters to consider? Such as my homecoming date or what my mom’s making for dinner? Well, the usual answers of either a) the Constitution or b) something related to being a ‘nation of immigrants’ don’t suffice. They’re far too meaningless or kitsch. I want something I can point to that extends in some way to every American life, and to every aspect of life in general. Love and hate and family and food and sex and dreams. What’s the American take on the human condition?
After many expletive and useless drafts, I have come to a discovery. America is Jimmy Buffett. A Greenwich village poet type who decided it was easier to drink and sing than fight the man. A man whose concerts consisted of middle-class, middle-aged couples on vacation. He gentrified Key West from an outlaw watering hole to tourist trap. He made a lot of money selling out, and well, nobody cares he sold out. His image wasn’t a beach bum, it was a beach bum businessman. Everyone wants to be Jimmy Buffett in the U.S. Be artsy, but not too artsy. Be ascetic, but extra Triple-Sec please. Be ridiculously rich, but never touch a tie. He typified rags-to-riches and was the national anthem of Summer.
Jimmy Buffett had his moments. There were songs of pure mediocrity, there were times when he shamelessly sold a faux-image of happiness being a margarita. At some point he became a caricature. But still, he brought a lot of people a lot of joy, all while drinking, singing and getting rich. He worked up from a college drop-out New Orleans busker to a very successful, happy man, doing what he loved.
Buffett’s songs and his life capture the American insistence on individualism and turning dreams or passions into a way to get filthy rich—something every American dreams about.
