Bar Belle: Long live the Parrotheads!

Two questions arose Saturday night as I found myself in the mix of 15,000 self-proclaimed Parrotheads worshipping at the feet of Parrot Master Jimmy Buffett: 1) These people are onto something — how have they kept the secret of a happy life for so long? 2) Was anyone at Jim Porter’s?

Of course I’m kidding about the latter. I’m sure there were a few bartenders and bouncers on the job waiting for the after-show crowd. But the former is true. These people — the Parrotheads — are always happy and always have a drink in their hands. They wear funny hats and celebrate sharks and sun and margaritas and cheeseburgers and sponge cake. They put in their time at a 9-to-5 and save their money for a trip to Key West or New Orleans or … wherever they can dip their toes in the sea and saddle up to a tiki bar. They truly believe it is 5 o’clock somewhere and live their life by that mantra. They prefer flip-flops to heels and dole out more lays than the state of Hawaii. I’m wondering if these Parrotheads are accepting new flock members, because I’d like to apply. (The Derby City Parrotheads have 643 friends on Facebook!)

The Buffett show was a party in every sense of the word — except maybe for the long bathroom lines and $8.25 beers at the Yum! Center. But if you were smart and drank before, then you felt no shame singing along and throwing up your fins all night long. I’m sure this man could perform these concerts in his sleep — but he seemed genuinely excited to be back in Louisville, and his fans never stopped cheering as scenes of our fair city flashed on the screen behind him.

Perhaps we all should be more like Jimmy Buffett and his Parrotheads. I’m not sure of the average lifespan of a Parrothead, but from the looks of his band, they live a long, long time. For a second during the show, I thought I was watching another sequel to “Cocoon.” We should strive to get to the ocean whenever possible. It will mellow our soul and melt our stress. We should live like we’re on vacation — after our day at the job is over, of course. I saw a SomeEcard the other day that said: “When work feels overwhelming, remember that you’re going to die.” Sure, it’s a little morbid, but it certainly puts things into perspective.

Forget the Ten Commandments. Next time I get in a bind and have to make a life-changing decision, I’m just going to repeat the following mantra: Pour me something tall and strong, make it a hurricane before I go insane. It’s only half past 12, but I don’t care — it’s 5 o’clock somewhere!

Repeal Day reminder
Remember that we gotta celebrate the 80th anniversary of Repeal Day tomorrow, and I’ll be co-hosting a class at Moonshine University on the topic of Prohibition. You’ll learn all about the notorious players of the time, and we’ll make our own bathtub gin. And since I’m halfway in charge, we’ll be drinking during class, too! There are still slots available, so sign up if you’re interested. The class runs from 6-8 p.m., and more details are at

Drunk Texts of the Week
• Jerky Man’s Jerky: Don’t bite off more than you can poo
• I think second should be spelled secent
• Bull Tide!
• Michigan’s motto: Didn’t we almost have it all?
• Do Jagerbombs counteract tryptophan?

Send your drunk texts to [email protected]. My blog is at Word.