So, here is my Jimmy Buffett story. There was a highly disrespectful and questionable Carnival Krewe called the Krewe of Clones. It was mostly made up of French Quarter residents- with lots of artists and degenerates like myself thrown in. (it eventually morphed into the Krewe du Vieux after the Krewe of Clones was made the target of an attempt to clean up carnival for the tourist by the city…to no avail I might add) Anyway, It was either 1983 or 1984 that our theme was “Apocalypse New Orleans”. I was costumed as a giant cockroach accompanying our Krewe’s King on his Royal Float. That king was Jimmy Buffett. I was very familiar with Buffet, as in the early and mid-70s at the University of Florida Jimmy Buffett played a large number of concerts at UF put on by the student government. We heard Jimmy so much people were complaining that he always played. His music always evoked 1970s Florida to me, and I was a big fan, and very happy to be a royal cockroach on his float. About two in the morning for reasons unknown, Jimmy, the queen of the Krewe, two uptown debutantes who were fellow cockroaches, and myself, all got in a limousine and went to the French Quarter bar - Cosimos - with what was the best jute box in the Quarter. At some point there was a dance and lip-synch contest to Darrin’s Mac the Knife between Jimmy and myself. According to the bartender, I won. According to the wanna be groupie debutantes, Jimmy won. But those hoes were like Soviet era ice-skating judges as the arbiters on the contest. I wish I could say I went home with one of the debutantes, but apparently I was over-served to the point I passed out But it was carnival, so a person dressed like a giant cockroach laying in the gutter passed out was not really an unusual event. Rest in peace, Jimmy