How Jimmy Buffett is America’s Bhagwan
I’ve watched Netflix’ blockbuster documentary “Wild Wild Country” 2.5 times. You can watch it (I can’t recommend it enough) and decide for yourself who the “bad guys” are and who has merit. I’m not interested in doing that here. It’s easy to look at the Rajneeshees and laugh at their philosophy and lifestyle but I believe that’s one, unfair and two, hypocritical given that we have similar cults here in the United States that people find perfectly acceptable. Mainly, Jimmy Buffett.
Sorry to break the news to so called “Parrot Heads,” but yes, you are in fact in a cult. Now, that’s not necessarily a bad thing. Bhagwan Buffett obviously provides his followers with joy and pleasure and no one is a member against their will. But I have to ask myself which is more egregious, moving to Oregon to join a self-sufficient sex commune or willingly paying over $100 a pop to hear “Cheeseburger in Paradise” 35 times? That’s a tough one.
Bhagwan Buffet convinces people to cough up their hard-earned cash so they can live in his imagined island paradise wherever he goes. Wisconsin in the dead of winter is just like the Abacos if the Bhagwan’s in town. God forbid they save their money and go to the actual Bahamas. Instead, they choose rotten music, beach balls, plastic parrots and a $30 giant pink rum drink as their vacation. The best part is that seeing the Bhagwan and going to the Bahamas costs about the same. $5000. Jimmy has a yacht staff with families to feed for goodness’ sake.
The Rajneeshees came under fire when they supposedly poisoned salad bars in The Dalles, Oregon in order to sway an election. Their theory being, get enough people sick and they can’t vote. Well, that certainly was an act of bioterrorism. Which brings me to Bhagwan Buffett’s restaurant, Margaritaville. Margaritaville is like the vacation you get after a few decades of good behavior in Hell. Just thinking about the kitschy names on the menu makes me want to run to the toilet in agony. I found out that the Bhagwan has recently released a cookbook in case you can’t get to Margaritaville and want to poison your family at home.
Also, like the leader of the Rajneesh, Bhagwan Buffett has released several books that, depending on who you talk to, contain an endless flow of drivel or the absolute keys to full existential consciousness. His most famous book is titled, “Tales from Margaritaville,” in case you forgot he also wrote a song called “Margaritaville,” and opened a chain of restaurants called “Margaritaville, and opened a chain of hotels called “Margaritaville.” I haven’t read the book but I imagine the “tales” are all about laying in a hammock on a beach drinking a Corona knock-off wondering how to turn a talentless wanderer into a multi-millionaire.
The Rajneeshees were most certainly a sex-based cult. Free love and all that, into the night with indiscriminate partners so loud your neighbors in the tiny town next door can hear it, kind of thing. I’m not saying that the Parrot Heads practice orgies like the Rajneesh. But I wouldn’t stay at a Red Roof Inn for a few weeks after a Buffett show if you catch my drift. It’s 5’oclock Somewhere and old people are screwing.
I respect the original Bhagwan and I respect Buffett because they both built multi-million dollar empires based on baloney. That is the true American dream. Bhagwan Buffett is worth $550 Million according to Forbes magazine. He has a song called “Why Don’t We Get Drunk.” Well, I’d definitely be getting drunk if I was worth half a billion dollars partly because I wrote songs called “Why Don’t we get Drunk.” The point is I’m certainly not anti-Bhagwan or anti-Buffett. I believe you should do whatever makes you happy. Whether that means having funky-ass sex in a red robe in the desert in Oregon or snapping your fingers to “Margaritaville” (in case you forgot, Buffett wrote a song called “Margaritaville”) in a Hawaiian shirt with a plastic parrot on your shoulder. If either of these things gives you pleasure, then by all means enjoy. And if you’d like to make me the next Bhagwan and hand me half a billion dollars, count me in.