Here's to my brother Billy Joe and his Brilliant Strategy.
This morning is a cold, cold winter day; the temperature is in the teens. As I sit here at my computer occasionally cupping my hands around my steaming cup of tea, I feel cold seep through the windows. The local classic rock radio station is playing in the far corner of the living room, when all of a sudden I hear the strains of Jimmy Buffett’s ‘Margaritaville’. I immediately hit the remote to pump up the volume, sit back and let the music wash over me. I am suddenly transported to a hot summer day walking along the white strand of Fort Morgan’s beach. I cup my tea and almost taste the margarita and hear the sounds of surf off the balcony of the house we rented every year on that peaceful beach just down from the Preserve.
Why do I thank my brother for this? Simple. The whole time we were at the beach all those summers ago, he would play Buffett’s music over and over again. One day in exasperation, I asked “Billy, can’t you play anything else?”
He said “Nope, I only take Buffett to the beach. And some day, you’ll thank me for it. Some cold winter’s day, when Buffett comes on the radio, you’ll flash to the beach and it won’t seem quite so cold. It’s like magic.”
He’s right, so here’s to Billy’s bit of magic, warm memories and a nod to Buffett.