PARROTHEADS > COCONUT TELEGRAPH > ARTICLE ARCHIVE > Box Set

Boats:

SON OF A SON OF A SAILOR I saw a picture of my grandfather after he had come back from a trip to Nova Scotia. He was born there but left when he was a young man and didn't return until he was 84. He was standing on dock staring at an old sailing schooner, and the look on his face told the story of where he had come from and where he had been. I have always been very proud of my heritage as a sailor and wrote this for the men who taught me the skills.

HAVANA DAYDREAMIN' I read Far Tortuga by Peter Mathissen and fell in love with the description of the men on the turtle boat. I used them to create my own boat and my own destination. Five years after the song was written, I was singing it in the La Bodega Del Medio in Downtown Havana with the KGB, CIA, and Cuban secret police crowded around the bar trying to look normal-which goes to prove you better not dream too hard or long; your dreams just might come true.

MANANA I spent a winter living on my boat in the British Virgin Islands. One night , I was anchored in Jost Van Dyke in front of Foxy's Bar and was staring out at the lights of St. Thomas in the distance. All of a sudden the electricity went out, and the stars were the only lights left. I imagined the panic at the power plant while the stars smugly shone on into the dawn, and then the song became a chronicle of things I had done and seen that week. Better than notes on a calendar.

TREAT HER LIKE A LADY This was written for the whales-animals in danger of extinction the way I thought I was at the time. Music changed on us almost overnight, and the singer/songwriter breed who populated the music scene of the seventies seemed to be headed for the proverbial "elephant burial ground." James Taylor added his distinctive voice to this track and made the lines I cherished come alive. As it turned out, a lot of us old elephants are still alive and kicking and happy to be here. Good songs tell stories, and good stories seem to last longer than video tapes. Thank God.

STEAMER There is something terribly romantic about the old passenger ships that used to comb the oceans of the world before concrete runways and jet planes made them obsolete. I spent a night once on the Queen Mary in Long Beach trying to imagine what that era must have been like. Even with her decks full of people from bus tours, even parked next to the Spruce Goose in a jungle of oil terminals, I could still feel the ship talk to me. When I heard this song, it reminded me of the good old days.

JOLLY MON SING Dolphins gliding along beneath the bow of the ship, effortlessly crossing the wake and doing flips, set off a big wave of jealousy. If we are supposed to be such smart people, why can't we do that? It just goes to show that talking isn't everything. I wrote the picture book version with my daughter, and we wanted to make it clear that humans can learn from animals, and the natural world has room for all of our needs-not just mans.

NAUTICAL WHEELERS When I first arrived in Key West, it was still a wide open town where artists, straights, gays, shrimpers, sailors, criminals, and politicians all frequented the same bars. In the middle of this nest of vipers, a group called the "Nautical Wheelers" every Friday night under a big orange-and-white parachute at the old City Hall, next to the Salvation Army outlet where I bought my clothes. It was a change of pace to sit and watch the square dancers perform with such precision before I stumbled back out onto Duval Street where there were no rules.

TAKE IT BACK I got a call one day to write a song for the Stars and Stripes challenge. The Americans were trying to win the American Cup back from the Australians. Soon after that, my first trip to Australia came together, and we opened the tour in Perth at the time of the race. For me, it was the party of the 80's, and I think of this as the background music for an incredible stay down under.

SLOW BOAT TO CHINA These darn songs that take me off to china. I am hooked on the place. I guess Marco Polo started to whole damn thing. One day, I will get there and I hope there is still a slow boat to take me there.

CHANGES IN LATITUDES, CHANGES IN ATTITUDES Rhyming unusual words is something I've always tried to do. Anybody can rhyme cat and rat. I look for things beyond two syllables-like attitudes and latitudes.

LOVE AND LUCK "Zouk" is a popular form of music from the French Antilles, the kind that makes you dance without knowing what the singer is saying. Since the songs are in patois French, this helps. I once received a request for permission to write new lyrics to the melody of Margaritaville by a very famous European singer and thought it was great and was interested to hear their interpretation. Well this is the melody to a song called "kole Sere," written by my friend Joecely Beroard, the lead singer for a great Zouk band names Kaasav. The lyrics are mine and I hope that they like the way I interpret their music. This was the first song ever recorded at Shrimp Boat Sound in Key West and Steve Winwood is the guest organist. I thank him for taking time out from his fishing trip.

THE CAPTAIN AND THE KID This song is obviously about my grandfather, and it means a lot to me. It was written shortly after he died. I like to tell the story about this song and why I don't "pitch" my material to other people. I was living in Nashville, trying to eke out a living, and I spent a brief time trying to peddle my wares door-to-door to record producers. One day, I was playing a batch of new songs for this guy, and he stopped the tape at the end of this song, which I took to mean that he had more than a casual interest. He said, "This is a great song, but you have to change the ending. It's too sad for the old man to die." I was shocked. "I can't do that," I told him. "Why?" he asked incredulously. "Because he did," I answered and walked out. I never pitched another song to anyone again.

TRYING TO REASON WITH HURRICANE SEASON My second house in Key West was tucked away under fichus trees near the old Casa Marina Hotel. From my beach I could see the flashing red and green lights that marked the ship channel and ended at the Gulf Stream. Clouds used to gather over the the warm waters and spill out the rain and thunder. It was quite a light show. My front yard was my "thinking spot" in those days. I had a rocking chair and a hammock. When you come to think of it, you don;t need much more.

BOAT DRINKS It was February in Boston, and I was cold and wanted to go home. Rum and tonic was the antifreeze, and the newspaper was full of ads for warmer climates. I was in a place owned by Derek Sanderson, who was a very famous player for the Boston Bruins in the 70's. I came out of the bar and couldn't find a cab except for the one that was running in front of a nearby hotel. There was no driver in it, and I was too cold to think about the consequences. There is an old Navy expression which says, "Beg forgiveness, not permission." I hopped in and drove the cab back to my hotel, I did leave the fare on the seat.

ONE PARTICULAR HARBOR I had my sights sets on Tahiti a long time ago and connived my way there through my good friend Tom Moffatt in Hawaii. We went there to play a show to an unknown audience, but that didn't matter. I still had made it to Tahiti. At the airport we were met by an old expatriated American named Hugh Kelly who had run away from home a long time ago. We became instant friends, and he took me to his home on Moorea in the mountains above Cook's Bay. When I looked down at the vista, the song came out as if it had been sitting inside of me waiting for the moment.

A PIRATE LOOKS AT FORTY The real pirate's name was Phillip Clark. He was one of the most unforgettable characters I met when I first lived in Key West, back in the days before it turned into a boutique. When I finished the song, I knew I had done him justice, and it is a fitting eulogy to an old friend. He died a few years ago under an alias, washed up on a beach near San Francisco. They flew his body back to Key West where some of his ashes were scattered at sea, and some still sit above the cash register in the Full Moon Saloon.

LOVELY CRUISE This song was brought to me by a young man named Jonathan Baham. It was one of those songs that just fit the mood, and I put it on the record. I like the story and the image. It has stood the test of time.

Beaches:

MARGARITAVILLE This song was written about a drink in Austin, Texas, and the first huge surge of tourist who descended on Key West almost two decades ago. What can I say? People ask if I ever get tired of playing it. The answer is no. It has paid the rent for a long time and seems to put a few minutes of joy into this troubled world when sung by fans at a show. I feel very lucky.
GRAPEFRUIT-JUICY FRUIT The place was the Islander Drive-in Theatre, and the movie was Payday starring Rip Torn. The girl was from St. Petersburg, and she was running away from a bad boyfriend. the popcorn was salty, and the beer was cold.

RAGTOP DAY My mother was thought to be a little crazy by our neighbors when she bought a gold Ford Fairlane convertible instead of the standard housewife station wagon. I loved it. It started my convertible "thing" which still infects me. I've owned a long list of convertibles since that one, and I just don't think cars look right with tops on them.

FRANK AND LOLA Lola is another tough rhyme. Sometimes when you're trying to find it, the rhyme is right under your nose. Pensacola was across the state line, and it rhymed. See? There's nothing to it.

TIN CUP CHALICE This was my first Key West song. I was running from a bad marriage and a trail of debt, and wound up at the end of America. Nobody cared about either there, and they took the time to applaud the sunset at the end of the day. It was a place for me to hang my hat for awhile.

KNEES OF MY HEART Borrowed this line from a letter Sir Walter Raleigh wrote to the Queen of England begging forgiveness for some practical activity. It sounded more like a title of a Motown tune, and I couldn't pass it up. I hope Sir Walter didn't turn over in his grave.

MONEY BACK GUARANTEE When I was working on Bourbon Street as a teenager, the big trill on my day off was to ride out St Charles Avenue on the streetcar to the Audubon Zoo and back. I kept that image and when we got together with the Neville Brothers a few years back, I combined that and the silly ads on television into the lyrics of this song. I do own a bamboo steamer and use it a lot. I never had to use my money back guarantee.

COAST IS CLEAR I grew up on the Alabama Gulf Coast, and it has been a source of a lot of my music. I always like to go home after school is back in session and the crowds have left the beaches. The amusement parks are closed, and one straw covers the artificial turf of the miniature golf course. The tidal pools are once again the domain of the shorebirds, and the water changes it's darker green, signaling the approach of winter. This is the first song Mac Mcanally and I wrote together, and I think it paints the image the way I like to see it. Painting with words can be as much fun as painting with oils.

BILOXI Biloxi was the town I got my start playing music in a place called Trader Jon's. It blew away Hurricane Camille, but the memories of those days along the Mississippi Gulf Coast are still as vivid as the sunsets off toward new Orleans. Jesse Winchester got it right. All I did was sing about something I could relate to.

DISTANTLY IN LOVE Distance and love; this sounds like an oxymoron. The song was written on the beach of Huahine as I watched the sun drop into the Pacific Ocean. Love songs have never been easy to write. Somehow pain and regret seen to be the only things that can trigger my feelings, and songs are the only way to say what I feel-but once your feelings become a song, they don't belong to you anymore. They belong to all those people who identify with them.

COCONUT TELEGRAPH The Coconut Telegraph works as well as a cellular phone or a fax machine and has been around a lot longer.

STARS ON THE WATER This is one of those songs I always wished I had written. Rodney Crowell got it right when he described these great little honky tonks and seafood shacks that sit on the northern edge of the Gulf of Mexico.

WHO'S THE BLOND STRANGER? The good people of Texas kept me alive for a long time when I was not known or could not get work anywhere else. I used to commute from Key West, flying across the Gulf to play my shows-and then I'd go home again. In a two-week stint I'd start in Amarillo and wind up on Padre Island, always amazed that I was still in the same state. There was a bar down there where cowboys tied their horses to the seawall and ate oysters. That image always stuck with me, and I got together with my Texas professor Will Jennings and penned this song.

I HAVE FOUND ME A HOME I bought a red bike shortly after I decided to stay in Key West, and it served me well. Key West has changed drastically from the days when you didn't have to lock up your bike, but it's still the best place I know to ride. The streets are filled with the fragrances of exotic trees and aromas from Cuban and Bahamian kitchens. In all the traveling I have done and all the places I have lived, it still feels like home.

CHRISTMAS IN THE CARIBBEAN I guess since Christmas is my birthday, I should have written at least one Christmas song. This certainly won't give "White Christmas" a run for its money, but it proves the point that snow isn't everything.

VOLCANO One of the wildest times I've ever had in my career was an expedition to the Caribbean Island of Montserrat to record an album. The events which took place could fill a book, and one day they just might. The whole time we were there, the volcano above the studio seemed to be waiting for us to do it justice. One day Keith Sykes came into our house strumming his little Martin, singing the chorus. I took it from there, and the gods of the volcano appeared to be satisfied.

BROWN EYED GIRL This has been one of my favorite songs since the early days in New Orleans when it was first a hit. Rumor had it that Van Morrison was a student at LSU and the stadium in the song was Tiger Stadium. Van's supposed attendance at LSU has been proven untrue, but the song is a summertime anthem. Our addition to this anthem is the great steel drum arrangement written by Robert Greenidge. He thought Van Morrison was from Trinidad and wrote it about the soccer field in Port of Spain. That Van sure got around.

Bars:

FINS I was in a bar somewhere up near Daytona Beach and saw a group of guys crowded around some girls who were obviously in town for a beauty contest. I sat back and listened to there conversation and took notes. For a moment I pictured that these guys had fins coming out of their backs as they hit on the girls. It was a pure feeding frenzy, and I scribbled down pieces of their conversation and wrote the song. Now it seems the "land shark" population has increased tremendously.
THE WEATHER IS HERE, I WISH YOU WERE BEAUTIFUL Graffiti in the bathrooms of good bars has always been a great source of material. I think this one either came from Captain Tony's or the Napoleon House in New Orleans.

TAMPICO TRAUMA The name Tampico has always held a sense of danger for me. I guess it comes from watching the opening scene in Treasure of Sierra Madre when Bogart and Tim Holt won the lottery. Instead of cowboys, I put a couple of rock'n rollers in the coastal town and let my imagination go.

LIVINGSTON SATURDAY NIGHT One day my old friend and now brother-in-law Thomas McGuane came over to my house in Key West and gave me a movie script he had written. He asked me to read it and said he recommended that I write the music. The script was entitled "Rancho Deluxe," and the rest is history. Yes, I am in the movie: in the bar scene, along with Tom and the late Warren Oats. I think it has a lot to do with what I learned that summer in Montana.

CUBAN CRIME OF PASSION There used to be a piano player in Key West named Billy Nine Fingers who told me stories about playing the ferryboat that once ran from Key West to Havana. It made me jealous that I hadn't been around during the wild days of Havana. One day I was reading an article in the Miami Herald about a murder that had taken place in Hialeah in which a love triangle had ended in bloodshed. The reporter called it a "Cuban Crime of Passion."

FIRST LOOK I ran away from home a lot, from the time I was twelve until now. On this particular occasion, my wife and I were separated, and I took off for Rio to go to the carnival. I went for six days, and stayed three weeks. On Mardi Gras morning, I was standing on a hang-glider launching platform, looking at Rio below me as the sun came up. That is where I started the song, and I finished it after being taught the Portuguese by my friend Angela Brum who lives in Leblon.

THE WINO AND I KNOW This was a song I wrote after listening to Gordon Lightfoot, who has been a great influence on my style. Gordon takes uncommon subject matter and turns it into lyrics that make you listen to what the singer is saying. With all the passing trends of the last two decades, I still haven't changed my style of writing. A good story is never out of fashion. Thanks, God.

THE GREAT FILLING STATION HOLDUP Before convenience stores and crack cocaine became popular, filling station holdups were the big crimes in much of the rural South. I got the idea for this song from an actual newspaper article that described the recovered property from one such holdup. For some reason it just struck me as funny.

WHY DON'T WE GET DRUNK This song was written as a piece of total satire when I did my first album in Nashville. I was hearing a lot of very suggestive country songs-in particular, Conway Twitty's "Let's Go All The Way." I figured I would write a song that would leave no doubt in anybody's mind. I thought back to a late night in an Atlanta diner where I was eating and watching this out-of-focus businessman trying to pick up a hooker. That's all the inspiration I needed.

ELVIS IMITATORS This song was written my Steve Goodman and John Prine. Elvis is still dead or alive, and this song has remained locked away in the vaults of Margaritaville Records for years now, just waiting for the perfect time to be sprung on an unsuspecting public. So against a lot of people's better judgement, I broke it out. So far I have not heard from Elvis, so I don't know if he likes it or not-but I wouldn't
be surprised if he's seen at one of our shows this summer.

PENCIL THIN MUSTACHE The thing about writing a song like this is that the older you get, the more people there are who need an explanation of the characters in the song. I shudder to think how old Sky king's niece Penny is today. It all started with that two-toned Ricky Ricardo jacket. I can't wait for them to come back.

KICK IT IN SECOND WIND This came out of those days at the Troubadour and the famous "third show." I don't remember too many of them, as you can imagine the state of a band that takes the stage at two in the morning. The third show at the Troubadour was sort of the "Pork Chop Hill" of rock'n roll-some of us made it, some of us didn't. I guess I was lucky.

DESPERATION SAMBA I wound up in Mexico one day, passing through Tijuana on my way to Rosarito Beach. I was passing through the bizarre streets of this border town listening to the radio from San Diego when the DJ mentioned that it was Halloween. I looked around and realized that none of these people needed a costume.

WHEN SALOME PLAYS THE DRUM Salome and her band played one year at L'Ananas, a restaurant in St. Barts, and she filled the place with tourists and locals who watched her seductively play the drum she held between her legs. Just for the record, Salome was not thrown out of town.

THEY DON'T DANCE LIKE CARMEN NO MORE I loved Carmen Miranda before I knew her name. Her hat was filled with fruit piled up to the sky. I guess this song came out of my "Cuban period" when I first got to Key West and came in contact with the Latin passion for fun.

PASCAGOULA RUN Billy Buffett was the best worst influence in my formative years. He was a sailor through and through and lived life to the fullest. The day he pulled into our driveway in that Jaguar, my heart skipped a beat. And when he asked me to drive him to New Orleans, I didn't realize it, but I had crossed the wild meridian. My alter boy days were done, and my eyes were open wide. Thank you, Uncle Bill.

SENDING THE OLD MAN HOME This song literally came out of the blue. I was in traction on the top floor of Cedars Sinai hospital with my leg broken for the third time, wondering what else could go wrong. I mean, I had done a few bad things, but nothing to deserve three broken legs. That's when the earthquake shook the hospital as if it were a cardboard box. I ordered more painkillers and drifted off. There was a movie on TV called The Gallant Hours starring James Cagney as Admiral "Bull" Halsey, and I flashed between the movie and images of my grandfather and the Officers Club at Pearl Harbor. The collage of images stayed with me the next day when I checked out of the hospital and flew home to Alabama where the ground was flat and didn't move. There I wrote this song. It is still one of my favorites.

DOMINO COLLEGE One of those winters back in the early eighties, Dan Fogelberg showed up in St. Barts, and we took off south aboard that grand old yacht Escapade. The night before, my guitar had been stolen out of my car, and of course we had been inspired by events of the week and wanted to write songs. Now our trip had a mission. We picked up some leads in the marketplace in Charlestown, the main city on the island of Nevis, which led us to the hills to Butlertown, where we met a man who made guitars. On the way to his home, we passed a roadside shed with a cold beer sign and the words "Domino College" painted on a piece of driftwood. I sat in for a few games and was given a quick education by the old men seated around the table. That night, as we lay at anchor under the cliffs below Brimstone Hill listening to the monkeys jabbering in the trees, we stared this song. I have often thought I might like to go back down to Domino College and get my master's degree.

Ballads:

COME MONDAY This was the first hit record I ever had. I was working in London, far away from the brown L.A. haze, when I heard it on the radio and called the states and got the good news. I guess that was when I realized that I might be able to keep my phony baloney job for awhile.
DEFYING GRAVITY Like a solid relief pitcher, Jesse Winchester is a source of songs I return to again and again. I love the message in this song, simple and to the point. I never do dream I may fall-and if I do fall, what the hell.

SURVIVE There are some days on the road when you have the blues and nothing will get rid of them. You just have to ride it out like a bad cold or a storm, and things will eventually get better. This song came out of one of those spells, and I did survive.

INCOMMUNICADO The day John Wayne died, I drove to the top of Independence Pass above Aspen and walked along the Continental Divide. Somehow Travis McGee crept into my mind as I pondered the incredible vista. After a Mexican meal in Leadville, I wrote this song on the way back to Aspen.

I HEARD I WAS IN TOWN I'm amused by the rumors that crop up out of nowhere about me and what I've done. I have been spotted at parties by drug agents when I was actually two thousand miles away. I have bought ocean liners. I have been seen on stage in countries where I have never set foot, and have played golf on courses that I have never seen. Word just seems to get around.

BALLAD OF SPIDER JOHN Willis Alan Ramsey is one of the great Texas troubadours who has built a musical legacy. I think he is one of the best writers I have ever known, and I hope to one day hear that he has made another album.

LITTLE MISS MAGIC When Savannah Jane was born, my world was definitely altered. Once, when she was very small, she pointed to a spot on the globe and told me she had been a princess in China. Before she could speak I would watch her follow the blades of the ceiling fan with her big brown eyes, and I couldn't help but to be a proud father. Besides, if you don't write a song about your daughter, you will go to hell.

CALIFORNIA PROMISES Steve Goodman came to the studio in L.A. when we were just about to finish the One Particular Harbor album and played this song for me. I had always wanted to try to get Earl Klugh to play one of my records, and I guess the God's were smiling on us. My dear friend Rita Coolidge was singing background vocals and somehow got in touch with Earl, who was playing a gig in L.A. He came to the studio. Earl was a true gentleman and was taken back by Robert Greenidge's steel drum parts and the chance to meet Jack Nicholson-I'd called to let Jack know Earl was playing. Jack was an even bigger Earl Klugh fan than I was, and it was fun to watch them give each other compliments. Just another magic night in "show bidness."

IF THE PHONE DOESN'T RING, IT'S ME This phrase sort of sums it all up: "Good days' bad days, and going half mad days." We all have them. This is as close as I can get to a sad song.

AFRICAN FRIEND For the amount of shit that the Haitian people have had to endure over the centuries, they are the warmest and friendliest people I have come across in my travels. This song was written after a trip to Port-Au-Prince and a wild night in the old casino that made me feel as if I were in a Bogey movie. Those damn Bogey movies
have put me in some tight spots as I've tried to create fact out of fiction.

EVERLASTING MOON You have never heard this before unless you were at the lives shows in Atlanta or Cincinnati in the summer of '90. Matt Betton and I penned this. I love the idea that somebody steals the moon and moves it to a better place. Who but a bunch of baby boomers could conceive such a notion?

PRE-YOU I never learn much from listening to myself, but other people are a wealth of information. This title came while I was riding an elevator at the Hotel del Coronado in San Diego. A sailor was telling his buddy that he had run into an old girlfriend on the beach in Mexico while he was on his honeymoon. "What did you tell your wife?" the buddy asked. "I just said, 'Oh baby, she was pre-you.'" By the time the elevator hit the ground floor, I had the first verse, and I took the roots of this tune to New York and finished it with Ralph Macdonald and Bill Salters. Ralph produced this track and got
Grover Washington Jr. to play the solo (in case you think you've heard this style of horn before).

MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT Back in prehistoric times (the sixties) when I was working on Bourbon Street, I used to go to the Ivanhoe Piano Bar on my break and listen to a couple of local singers called the Neville Brothers. Needless to day, we have all made it off Bourbon Street and on to better things, but I still don't think there are too many bands around today who can compare to Art, Cyril, Charlie and Aaron when they harmonize. It was a thrill to work with them on this song which was one if three that I wrote with Art, Will Jennings, and Mike Utley one summer in New Orleans. The other two songs eventually made it onto Neville albums, but this one did not. It was inspired by late-night television ads and the St. Charles Avenue streetcar in New Orleans.

COAST OF MARSEILLES I believe that this is one the best songs I have ever heard. Keith Sykes wrote this years back when he was hanging around Key West, and it felt as if it had been molded for me. I ever get tired of singing this song.

ISLAND I wrote this with David Loggins. I thought back to a time when I had been holed up in San Salvador in the Bahamas waiting for the weather to break, watching how simple island people live and wondering if I could ever really slow down that much. I am still wondering.

HE WENT TO PARIS Chicago is where I truly cut my teeth as a performer, working as the opening act at the Quiet Knight. I opened for a variety of people from Neil Sedaka to Bob Marley, and when I got frustrated with the crowds, the old one-armed clean-up man with the big German shepherd always consoled me. It took me a few days of asking to find out Eddie was more than a janitor. He was a gifted painter and a wonderful pianist. We would stay up after the club closed, and he would sing me songs from the Spanish Civil War where he had fought as a member of the Abraham Lincoln Brigade against the Fascists. Eddie Balchowsky was indeed an inspiration. He was larger than life, and as Mark Twain said "he'd gone out into the territory". This song is a tribute to his spirit.

STARS FELL ON ALABAMA I have been called a cornball and a hopeless romantic. I appreciate those labels, and I don't apologize for my feelings. I have always loved the Tin Pan Alley kind of songs that came out of writing teams in the forties. This one, of course, was known to me as a kid, and I like to play it at shows now. It's fun to see teenagers mouth the words to a song they might never heard if I hadn't been such a cornball.

CHANGING CHANNELS This was written for Isabella, the imaginary heroine of my short story " I Wish Lunch Could Last Forever". I miss her and catch up with her life in the next story. I assure you she is still changing channels.

TWELVE VOLT MAN Michael Nesmith once told me a story about a man he ran into down in Baja who is the unknown inspiration for this song. During the Baja race, Michael had broken down somewhere near East Jesus and went to a small village to wait for his repair team. He ran into an American, a fisherman who lived in a small hut with what he called his "essentials". He had a collection of my albums, packaged margarita mix from America, an old Waring blender, and a tape player hooked up to a peculiar power system made out of a Honda generator and a Sears Die Hard battery. It seems he would fish all week, and on Friday night, he and his friends would hook up the blender and tape player and make margaritas while they sang along to my songs. This ceremony would last until the gas for the generator dried up. I got the inspiration to write this when I was in Isla Mujeres, a small island near Cancun, where life had escaped most of the twentieth century. The tough part was rhyming Die Hard, but with a few inspiring margaritas, the word came. This is one of my favorite songs.