I loved Jimmy Buffett. Loved his music, loved the easy-going island life he sang about. And I loved his persona, his apparent perpetual cheerfulness. He seemed like a guy I would enjoy drinking a margarita with. Of course, I never did. The closest I ever got to him was a concert back in 1994. It was close enough to see that this guy had an amazing gift for connecting with his audiences, and with people in general. That experience made me, if not a full-fledged Parrothead, at least an enthusiastic fan.