Hell, I wish I could grown any facial hair right now; however, this is about the song by Jimmy Buffett. My love of his music (specifically his 70’s stuff) is my dad’s fault. Most will think he’s all about being a beach bum, cruisin’ women and drinkin’ until puke into some hooker’s tits — and you’d be right; however, you’d also be missing a songwriter who can lay down a song so melancholy grown men have been caught crying in their closets. “Come Monday” is a well-known example, but if you want feel sorry for someone else make sure you listen to “He Went To Paris”.

Jimmy has gotten me through a few chemos of late. I’ve been feeling extremely nostalgic and in need of comfort music, so this post comes on the eve on my next to last round and the night the iPod decided to play “Pencil-Thin Mustache” randomly. This isn’t one of his melancholy songs. In fact, it’s quite the opposite and always manages to put a big ole grin on my face as Jimmy looks back at innocence through the eyes of a wiser, much older man. Go fig’.

Listening to: “Comfortably Numb” - Scissor Sisters