Post #169508 by Rum Demon on Sun, Jul 3, 2005 4:37 PM

Having just this week sold my beloved sailboat and given up the salty ways of my youth for warm and cozy lubberly homesteading, I can finally bid farewell to the parrotheads.

Having lived aboard for several years, I was constantly bombarded with JB from the Parrothead bar at my marina. Not so much JB music, but "Margaritaville". They apparently had only one CD, a live JB concert and it was rare they played any song but Margaritaville. So I'd be sanding teak in the hot sun for hours on end, and like clockwork, once every 20 minutes or so, they had to play THAT SONG.

I'd blast my own music, but inevitably my CD would end and I'd laugh aloud at the distant strains of JB and his adoring fans singing along from some concert of years past.

My friends were always amazed when they'd come down and see that I wasn't exaggerating.
"Good god. It's that song again, isn't it?"
"Yep.""How many times is this?"
"I think this is #8"
[followed by an awed and perplexed silence]

To top it off, the only thing the damn place ever served?: Cheeseburgers, and not even good ones.

Maybe I'm bitter because I was usually working or reading or trying to watch TV or getting ready to go sailing while these yahoos were perfectly content to get drunk on $4 bottles of Corona and eat greasy cheeseburgers and TALK about sailing while listening to the same damn CD over and over.

Partly as a result, I'm more than content to build a little tiki bar in the darkest room in the basement, sit in it all day drinking Mai Tais, and listen to Martin Denny's greatest hits over and over and over and over...

to each his own,
-Joe

...and over and over...again.