I took off for a weekend last month just to try and recall the whole year
All of the faces and all of the places wonderin’ where they all disappeared
Changes in Latitudes, Changes in Attitudes
Written by Jimmy Buffett
Happy New Year!
I started this postcard section on my blog back when I was on the road more working on various productions around the country. It was a way to keep the blog going without having to write full posts. But here’s a photo I took back in high school before I knew that it would lead to career. (And I’ll unpack its significance below.)
My dad bought me my first 35mm camera (Konica TC) the Christmas of my senior year of high school. A month later I drove over to Tampa with two car loads of fellow Lake Howell H.S. students to see a Jimmy Buffett & Eagles concert. (Best $12.50 I ever spent. I’ve seen single ticket stubs alone from that concert on Ebay for $50.) I found the above photo I took in 1980 while doing some after Christmas cleaning. It’s not a technically great photo so I ran it through the Prisma app to gloss over its imperfections. I was only 18–and only had the camera a month— but I think captures Buffett’s onstage personality. That camera was a gift that turned into a career. You never know when a gift you give today will bless someone well into the future.
Rewind a few years to 1977 with the release of the Eagles album Hotel California and Buffett’s Changes in Latitudes, Changes in Attitudes. What a one-two punch for a 16-year-old just starting to drive and see the world open up. (I only discovered a few weeks ago that parts of both of those albums were recorded in ’76 at Criteria Studios down in Miami.) I had two years of listening to those 8-track tapes over and over again, as well as their previous albums, before I went to that concert with 50,000 other people. Some days are just better than others.
But it didn’t make me want to be a rock star—I knew that my musical abilities peaked playing the triangle in kindergarten. But I was pulled in by so many of their lyrics—and stories— even if I didn’t (and still don’t) understand them all.
Last thing I remember, I was
Running for the door
I had to find the passage back
To the place I was before
“Relax,” said the night man
“We are programmed to receive
You can check out any time you like
But you can never leave”
Hotel California
Last year, I listened to the audio book Rock Me on the Water by Ronald Brownstein and it helped give a context to what was going on in the cultural landscape of Los Angeles in the mid-70s with the Troubadour and Hollywood crowd in particular. And the ripple effect it caused throughout the post-Vietnam United States.
The early 1970s was the moment when all three of these industries [music/film/TV] simultaneously reached a creative peak—and 1974 stood as the absolute pinnacle of this cultural renaissance. For Los Angeles, those glittering months represented magic hour.”
Ronald Brownstein
What I didn’t know at that Eagles/Buffett concert in January 1980 was the ’70s were over. Gone. (News traveled to Florida slower in the pre-internet days.) I was infatuated with something that was history. I still moved to L.A. in 1982 to find it. I can listen to Jackson Browne’s ’70s songs now and believe that he saw the sun setting on that California utopia.
I want to know what became of the changes
We waited for love to bring
Were they only the fitful dreams
Of some greater awakening
—Jackson Browne, The Pretender (1976)
By the late ’70s, disco had largely replaced folk rock in pop culture. Hair bands, rap, Purple Rain/Thriller/Material Girl, and grunge followed. A few months after that Tampa concert, the Eagles broke up. The hippies that once repudiated materialism, prospered in the computer culture they helped create and became even more materialistic than the post-WWII generation they were protesting against.
But Buffett just keep doing his thing. Being a singer/songwriter. Somehow keeping his fan base all these decades later in a way that most of his contemporaries haven’t. For those of us drawn to Buffett’s literary lyrics more than his liquor lyrics there was still plenty to ponder. A course to sail.
And there’s that one particular harbour
Sheltered from the wind
Where the children play on the shore each day
And all are safe within
One Particular Harbour (1983), Jimmy Buffett
When I look at that photo of Buffett in Tampa smiling, I can’t help but think of my 18-year-old self and all the adventures he’s going to have. All the places he’s going to go, all the people he’s going to meet, and all the images he’s going to capture. Here’s a couple photos from my home office to remind me of his influence.
I found that 1980 photo on Christmas Day, which just happened to be Buffett’s 76th birthday. Happy Birthday J.B.
My hope is if I make it to 76, some filmmakers or content creators say something like, “I stumbled upon this Screenwriting from Iowa blog when I was in high school….”
P.S. And after 15 years of blogging this month, I think I’m finally ready to stick my toes into the YouTube waters this month. More about that in the coming days.
Related posts:
Jimmy Buffett in Iowa (Part 1)
Jimmy Buffett in Iowa (Part 2)
Jimmy Buffett in Iowa (Part 3)
Highway 61 Meets A1A
Magic vs. Grit
Scott W. Smith is the author of Screenwriting with Brass Knuckles
Screenwriting from Iowa 