The Lure of Margaritaville
A Whiteheadian Appreciation
I am in a band that sings Jimmy Buffett songs at a country restaurant overlooking the Arkansas River. It's called Toad Suck Buck's Restaurant, and it's in Toad Suck, Arkansas. Favorites like "Margaritaville," "Cheeseburger in Paradise," "Five O'Clock Somewhere," "Son of a Son of a Sailor," "Come Monday," and "A Pirate Looks at Forty" always get the crowd singing along. It's not just the melodies that capture them, but also the mindset, the vibe, and the worldview encapsulated in the lyrics.
What is the mindset? A 2018 profile of Buffett by Taffy Brodesser-Akner in The New York Times offers an image:
"What if you didn't work that hard?" he dared to ask. "What if your ambition was not for success or money but for the in-betweens: the vacations, the frozen cocktails, and the joint in the evening? His emphasis was on the essentially Buffettian notion that we'd all spend our lives on the beach, splayed out on a towel, our lips caked with salt, if we could. In his songs, Mr. Buffett imagined himself as a pirate, always plundering toward treasure. The treasure wasn't wealth, though; it was a destination; it was the 'ville' in Margaritaville." (By Taffy Brodesser-Akner, Feb. 8, 2018)
It's this notion of Margaritaville, I believe, that inspires listeners. The lure of Margaritaville is the idea that the goal of life, the appropriate destination, is not success or money, but something more elemental and uncomplicated. "We'd all spend our lives on the beach, splayed out on a towel, our lips caked with salt, if we could." In addition, the Margaritaville vibe is the idea that we are all pirates, searching for the pleasure of a place where we can be ourselves, sometimes hustling, day by day, to get there. His songs, according to his website, are for "the hustlers, the beach bums, and the pirates from all corners of the world." That's the vibe.
Admittedly, some people see days on the beach, splayed on a towel as perks of an ambitious life. It does take money to indulge in such a day if it is a private beach. But not so on public beaches, available to anyone and everyone who lives close to a shoreline. When enjoyed by people from all walks of life, these days on the beach are fun, and they are an alternative to a money-driven existence where everything is about status and upward mobility. At least for a day, they - we - have arrived in Margaritaville, with or without the margaritas.
On this view, then, the lure of Margaritaville is the possibility of grounded perspective, emphasizing relaxation, genuine enjoyment, human connections, and a carefree spirit - free from the trappings of money, power, and success. Margaritaville is a place where people can be together and feel at ease, unfazed by societal pressures. Some may happen to be wasting away and suffering from disappointments of their own making. "It's my own damn fault." But on the beach, on that day, they - we - are all on the same level.
Was Jimmy Buffet himself on the beach? There's irony here: Buffett, with his multiple homes, private planes, and affluent lifestyle, commercialized the Margaritaville ideal without wholly living it. He was ambitious and very rich: a multi-millionaire or, as some say, a billionaire. He knew many a private beach and yachts as well. He would not be the first prophet whose lifestyle was in tension with his message, although he did not see it as such tension. We can forgive him this sin and be thankful for the songs.
How, then, to further understand Margaritaville in a more philosophical way? I can think of three perspectives: social activist, Nietzschean, and Whiteheadian. The first two are critical and the third appreciative. I prefer the third.
The social activist approach challenges the Margaritaville worldview, positing that life's purpose isn't merely personal enjoyment but service—especially to the vulnerable and the Earth. From this stance, the Margaritaville ethos is quite shallow compared to the profound goals of compassion, love, and justice. It is self-indulgent and "wasting away" the opportunity to truly help others.
The Nietzschean lens interprets Margaritaville cynically. Nietzsche believed that the true purpose of life is the will to power. He critiqued Christianity for its emphasis on humility and service, seeing it as a reaction of the powerless against the dominant. By extension, those drawn to Margaritaville might simply be making virtues out of their own limitations. The valorization of pleasure over "success" and "money" arises out of jealousy for those who are successful and have lots of money.
The Whiteheadian perspective offers another view. In "Process and Reality," Whitehead posited that existence is a series of moments, with the aim of each being the maximization of enjoyment in relation to others. Indeed, Whitehead sees the value of each moment as, in his words, "self-enjoyment," where the subject of the experience enjoys the vitality of being alive in ways that are harmonious and intense. Ethics plays a role, as our actions today shape the future.
A Whiteheadian outlook interprets Margaritaville as a recognition of the value of the moment, offering respite from a high-paced, consumer-driven world. And it matches a deeper and more profound point that social activists rightly make: namely, that the high-paced, consumer-driven world, where the very rich are isolated from the rest of us, shut off by their privilege, misses the real point of life. The point is to live simply, in uncomplicated ways, being with others in loving ways, and not being so driven by the gods of ambition.
The music of Buffett, understood in this way, is escapist in the best sense of the word. It allows people who are overwhelmed by the world of money and success to escape, at least momentarily, into something more real and honest, more egalitarian, where people are honest, unpretentious, and non-elitist. And yet, the music is also a critique of activist perspectives, which so emphasize social transformation that they cannot smell the roses or taste the margaritas in the present. Or be honest about the way that we are all wasting away, sometimes joyfully but always humanly. There is a pirate in each of us.
Buffett's music invites us to reject the world of pretension, avoid stuffy do-goodism, celebrate the temporary, honor human connections, and embrace our inner pirate. Such a worldview is, in its own way, deeply Whiteheadian. In an age of so much meanness, so much cruelty, so much hatred, would it not be good if we all wasted away in just this way?
- Jay McDaniel
What is the mindset? A 2018 profile of Buffett by Taffy Brodesser-Akner in The New York Times offers an image:
"What if you didn't work that hard?" he dared to ask. "What if your ambition was not for success or money but for the in-betweens: the vacations, the frozen cocktails, and the joint in the evening? His emphasis was on the essentially Buffettian notion that we'd all spend our lives on the beach, splayed out on a towel, our lips caked with salt, if we could. In his songs, Mr. Buffett imagined himself as a pirate, always plundering toward treasure. The treasure wasn't wealth, though; it was a destination; it was the 'ville' in Margaritaville." (By Taffy Brodesser-Akner, Feb. 8, 2018)
It's this notion of Margaritaville, I believe, that inspires listeners. The lure of Margaritaville is the idea that the goal of life, the appropriate destination, is not success or money, but something more elemental and uncomplicated. "We'd all spend our lives on the beach, splayed out on a towel, our lips caked with salt, if we could." In addition, the Margaritaville vibe is the idea that we are all pirates, searching for the pleasure of a place where we can be ourselves, sometimes hustling, day by day, to get there. His songs, according to his website, are for "the hustlers, the beach bums, and the pirates from all corners of the world." That's the vibe.
Admittedly, some people see days on the beach, splayed on a towel as perks of an ambitious life. It does take money to indulge in such a day if it is a private beach. But not so on public beaches, available to anyone and everyone who lives close to a shoreline. When enjoyed by people from all walks of life, these days on the beach are fun, and they are an alternative to a money-driven existence where everything is about status and upward mobility. At least for a day, they - we - have arrived in Margaritaville, with or without the margaritas.
On this view, then, the lure of Margaritaville is the possibility of grounded perspective, emphasizing relaxation, genuine enjoyment, human connections, and a carefree spirit - free from the trappings of money, power, and success. Margaritaville is a place where people can be together and feel at ease, unfazed by societal pressures. Some may happen to be wasting away and suffering from disappointments of their own making. "It's my own damn fault." But on the beach, on that day, they - we - are all on the same level.
Was Jimmy Buffet himself on the beach? There's irony here: Buffett, with his multiple homes, private planes, and affluent lifestyle, commercialized the Margaritaville ideal without wholly living it. He was ambitious and very rich: a multi-millionaire or, as some say, a billionaire. He knew many a private beach and yachts as well. He would not be the first prophet whose lifestyle was in tension with his message, although he did not see it as such tension. We can forgive him this sin and be thankful for the songs.
How, then, to further understand Margaritaville in a more philosophical way? I can think of three perspectives: social activist, Nietzschean, and Whiteheadian. The first two are critical and the third appreciative. I prefer the third.
The social activist approach challenges the Margaritaville worldview, positing that life's purpose isn't merely personal enjoyment but service—especially to the vulnerable and the Earth. From this stance, the Margaritaville ethos is quite shallow compared to the profound goals of compassion, love, and justice. It is self-indulgent and "wasting away" the opportunity to truly help others.
The Nietzschean lens interprets Margaritaville cynically. Nietzsche believed that the true purpose of life is the will to power. He critiqued Christianity for its emphasis on humility and service, seeing it as a reaction of the powerless against the dominant. By extension, those drawn to Margaritaville might simply be making virtues out of their own limitations. The valorization of pleasure over "success" and "money" arises out of jealousy for those who are successful and have lots of money.
The Whiteheadian perspective offers another view. In "Process and Reality," Whitehead posited that existence is a series of moments, with the aim of each being the maximization of enjoyment in relation to others. Indeed, Whitehead sees the value of each moment as, in his words, "self-enjoyment," where the subject of the experience enjoys the vitality of being alive in ways that are harmonious and intense. Ethics plays a role, as our actions today shape the future.
A Whiteheadian outlook interprets Margaritaville as a recognition of the value of the moment, offering respite from a high-paced, consumer-driven world. And it matches a deeper and more profound point that social activists rightly make: namely, that the high-paced, consumer-driven world, where the very rich are isolated from the rest of us, shut off by their privilege, misses the real point of life. The point is to live simply, in uncomplicated ways, being with others in loving ways, and not being so driven by the gods of ambition.
The music of Buffett, understood in this way, is escapist in the best sense of the word. It allows people who are overwhelmed by the world of money and success to escape, at least momentarily, into something more real and honest, more egalitarian, where people are honest, unpretentious, and non-elitist. And yet, the music is also a critique of activist perspectives, which so emphasize social transformation that they cannot smell the roses or taste the margaritas in the present. Or be honest about the way that we are all wasting away, sometimes joyfully but always humanly. There is a pirate in each of us.
Buffett's music invites us to reject the world of pretension, avoid stuffy do-goodism, celebrate the temporary, honor human connections, and embrace our inner pirate. Such a worldview is, in its own way, deeply Whiteheadian. In an age of so much meanness, so much cruelty, so much hatred, would it not be good if we all wasted away in just this way?
- Jay McDaniel