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The Bay to Buffett
Race
Caught up in the
feeding frenzy of the first of two Jimmy Buffett shows.
My wallet is soaked with rum, my sunglasses
are lost in the parking lot having never made it to the front gate and
where my backpack wound up, I haven't a clue.
But my head doesn't hurt, my feet don't stink and I still love Jesus.
So if that's all the damage I did to myself and my belongings after
successive weekends at Bay to Breakers in San Francisco and two Jimmy
Buffett concerts in Los Angeles, then I deserve a toast.
In fact, my permanent reminder of those temporary feelings is one of
euphoria. These are two great events, and experiencing them within a
span of less than a week was a natural (and otherwise) high.
I'm a true Parrothead, I must confess, a man whose Caribbean soul
is stirred by the sound of a Jimmy Buffett song. That's why I went to
both of Buffett's shows, which were sandwiched around Memorial Day weekend.
I've been to something like 30 in my life. My B2B number is three (and
counting).
The centerpiece of both is a social feeding frenzy. There aren't many
occasions during a year when drinking before noon is mentally acceptable,
but here were two pressed right up against each other.
At B2B, it's a bit ridiculous how early this begins. Let's just say
it's a frightening few short hours after the previous night's conclusion.
At Buffett, we were able to hold off until just before noon when the
bus PubClub chartered arrived to pick up our group of 55. Of course,
we all met at a bar.
Frankly, it's amazing how similar the two events are to one another.
About the only difference is that while Breakers is a mobile party,
Buffett is pretty much stationary.
Each attracts thousands, and while the B2B crowd is five times that
of a Buffett performance and would overwhelm an amphitheater, it's also
conducted in a much more wide open space and thusly feels like it's
about the same size.
Both are open-air affairs, where strolling with a drink and walking
up to strangers to share a toast is the reason for being there. Bay
to Breakers takes place through the streets of San Francisco while Buffett
shows are in the parking lots of concert venues (in our case, Irvine
Meadows). I could not begin to estimate the average number of beverages
consumed by each person at either. Let me just say that Breakers lasts
about four hours while Buffett goes on well into the night. During this
time, there is never a moment when the drinking hand is empty.
Meeting the owner
of the tiki bar was a Breakers breakthrough.
Well, for some, Breakers only lasts a few hours. For us, it is "only"
the beginning. It's our tradition to continue the day at Pier 23, a
waterside bar that is pretty active on any given Sunday. Few people
from the event actually make it there, too exhausted and partied out
to continue. But our group finds it difficult to suddenly shut down
the system without a final release and a few other diehards obviously
agree. Those of us that go there are as spiced as a bottle of Captain
Morgan's, and it doesn't take long for Breakers survivors to take over
the bar.
Breakers was the weekend I was introduced to a drink called the Irish
Car Bomb. It's Irish whiskey dropped into a pint of Guinness and is
to be consumed as a shot. I should have seen this coming; earlier in
the week I received an e-mail from a reader asking me if I knew of such
a concoction. I thought he was nuts.
So of course I wound up at a party on Friday where car bombs were going
off like fireworks. We were at our friend Rick's house in Santa Cruz,
and his roommate was hosting a party for his Ultimate Frisbee team.
This is a coed sport that requires some measure of athleticism and,
apparently, a heck of a lot of teamwork. Rick, my other friend Chris
Cox (who had traveled with me from L.A.), "Breakers" Bob and
myself were tolerated though not really accepted by this very cliquish
group.
Things got intriguing when the girls started sharing body shots with
one another in all manner of places and guys starting pairing off with
gals other than whom they had arrived. It was a free-love kind of experience
(although stopping short of actual sex), all conducted in front of our
very eyes without the slightest acknowledgment of our presence.
An interesting way to start the weekend, to be sure.
The next day, we somehow managed to drag Rick out of his favorite local
watering spot – Margaritaville in nearby Capitola Beach –
after a couple of killer "super" margaritas. Living in a scenic
but remote area of Northern California, Rick doesn't get many visitors,
so when people do come by, he's like a puppy dog who brings out all
of his toys so you will want to stay and play. But we had to get to
the City in order to meet up with another friend who was giving us couches
for the night. Breakers breaks ground on Sundays.
It was exactly a week later that we were in the "real" Margaritaville,
the parking lot party prior to the first Buffett show.
If you are looking for a personal highlight from all this revelry,
it's as easy to find as a margarita: having front-row seats for Buffett.
It meant so much to me that, despite the numerous libation temptations
available throughout the day, I maintained enough wits about me to really
appreciate the experience.
Getting the phins up again for another Buffett show two days later
required a bit of motivation, but Jimmy only comes once a year and the
inspiration was provided simply by turning on the CD. My group was much
smaller the second time around and the seats were nowhere near as good
as the first show, but the day was no less fun
Now, I think I'll take a nap.
The Bartender can be reached at bartender@pubclub.com
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