Introduction to Jimmy Buffett's songs by Herman Wouk
Jimmy Buffett landed in my Palm Springs hermitage like a long-haired
Peter Pan in denim. During our talk under the Lucky Tree I asked him,
"With all the strings to your bow -- rock star, composer, lyricist, novelist,
short story writer, sailor, aviator -- why on earth do you want to make a
musical of my "Don't Stop The Carnival?" Reply, with an impish grin, "It
might be fun." Well, as a relief from writing vast panoramic war novels, my
work with Jimmy on this musical has been wonderfully refreshing fun --
with moments of exasperation, to be sure, because this is an ever-smiling
collaborator, who appears and vanishes like Alice's Cheshire Cat,
leaving just the smile.
Here are some notes on Jimmy's songs, from the show's six-week
first tryout in Coconut Grove Playhouse, where it broke house records and
won the south Florida Carbonell for the best new musical of the year.
Jimmy Buffett explores new creative ground here, putting the two-hundred year history of Amerigo, a fictitious Caribbean island, into a Calypso number, and framing it into another song, The Legend of Norman Paperman, the theme of the show. The principal singer is the Governor of the island, and the key characters of the show sing verses about the history.
Narrator
Kinja was the name of the island when it was British. The actual name was King George The Third Island, but the islanders shortened that to Kinja. Now the name in the maps and the guidebooks is Amerigo, but everybody who still lives there still calls it Kinja. The United States acquired the island peaceably in 1940 as part of the shuffling of old destroyers and Caribbean real estate that went on between Mr. Roosevelt and Mr. Churchill. The details of the transaction were and are vague to the inhabitants. The West Indian is not exactly hostile to change, but he's not much inclined to believe in it. Meantime in a fashion Amerigo is getting Americanized. The inflow of cash is making everyone more prosperous. Most Kinjans go along cheerily with this explosion of American energy in the Caribbean. To them it seems like a new harmless and apparently endless Carnival.
Sanders
Have you ever dreamed of escaping from your dull existence to a new life on a tropical island? Our story is about a man who did it - a real person, whose true adventure has become a legend here in the Caribbean. Welcome one and all to THE LEGEND OF NORMAN PAPERMAN.
Ensemble
Dis is the legend of Norman Papuhman
Tale from the islands we'll share
Chasin illusions can get quite confusin'
Is it a dream or a nightmare
Women
Dis is the legend of Norman Papuhman
Tale from the islands we'll tell
Men
Chasin illusions can get quite confusin'
Cause heaven can turn into hell.
Sanders [Sings]
Kinja's the name of the island
It's been Kinja for over two hundred years
But remember paradise
Doesn't come without a price
Let me make that abundantly clear
Kinja, our beautiful island
In a windward archipeligo
We've been English, French and Dutch
Never seemed to matter much
Now we're officially Amerigo
Ensemble
We're Kinja
Still Kinja
Our Kinja
Sanders
(Sheila, chef at the Gull Reef Club)
Sheila
Our ancestors came in the slave ships
To work for the privileged few
Who wore Paris fashions
and lived in pink mansions
While we huddled in shacks of bamboo
Den da sugar beet bring us our freedom
With the help of our God we got through
Insurrection, beheadin's, funerals and weddin's
Hurricanes and a World War or Two
Chorus
Hurricanes and a World War or Two
We're Kinja
Still Kinja
Our Kinja
We're Kinja
Still Kinja
Our Kinja
Sanders
(Gilbert, gondolier of the Gull Reef Club)
Gilbert
Mr. Churchill had to get some destroyers
To put old hitler six feet below
FDR he pulled a nifty
Got our island for just fifty
And do limeys dey pack up and go
We dance through the streets in celebration
Da fireworks dey light up da sky
We got hotdogs and highways
Got Fords and Chevrolets
Not to mention the Forth of July
Ensemble
Not to mention the Forth of July
We're Kinja
Still Kinja
Our Kinja
We're Kinja
Still Kinja
Our Kinja
Sanders
(Senator Pullman, the island's big enchilada)
Senator Pullman
Now the Yankees, they come wid der dollars
It's a beehive of activity
Sell dem crawfish and rum
Keep dem dizzy and numb
Oh we're liken' this prosperity
We got new holidays for celebration
We got new laws, but no one complies
We got crawfish and mangos
Calypso and tangos
Ahhh, but we short on our watah supply
Ensemble
Mighty short on our watah supply
We got the Carnival
We love the Carnival
The Kinja Carnival
Carnival
We got the Carnival
Don't Stop The Carnival
We love the Carnival
And our story begins
Dis is da legend of Norman Papuhman
Tale from de tropics we'll tell
Chasin illusions can get quite confusin'
Cause heaven can turn into hell!
The legend of - NORMAN PAPERMAN
I was bowled over when I first played the tape of this song, whitch Jimmy sent me very early in our work. Who on earth, I thought, could write such a song with such a title, and how could he make it come out so melodious and amusing? The hero of the novel, Norman Paperman, is indeed a Broadway press agent, and Public Relations is what he is escaping from after a nasty heart attack, to start life over on a tropical paradise. That is a dream that many peaple have, and Don't Stop the Carnival tells the funny and sad tell of Norman's awakening.
Spoken:
I was born on an island
The island of Manhatten
Dreamt all my life of a career on the
Great White way
Producer Norman Paperman
Director Norman Paperman
And I made it!
In sort of an off the wall way I found my
Calling-Listen
Singing:
Up every morning, out every evening
Hustling for headlines, that's what I do
Table at Sardi's, grappling for gossip
Working the press for a mention or two
[Paperman Cont.] I never acted like some nervous rookie
Right form the start I was hot as a cookie
I was a numero uno
What a debut
Chorus:
Public Relations, Public Relations
Boozing and schmoozing, that's what I do
PR's my vocation
And I'm a sensation
Public relations
Such hullabaloo
But I went full throttle
Never could slow down
Then out of nowhere a mild heart attack
Middle age crisis
Face the big questions
Had to get off of this foolish fast track
It all started out
As an add in the paper
Now it's turned into
A tropical caper
But it's only public relations
And thats what I do
Chorus:
Public Relations, Public Relations
Ego inflation, that's what I do
Isn't it wonderful, isn't it fabulou
Public Relations, such hullabaloo
Iris:
Give this some thought Norman
Things can get sticky
Here in the tropics
Wine turns to glue
Norman:
I've never seen such a beauitful ocean
Iris:
Holy sweet Jeues, he's got no clue
Norman:
I'll buy this place
I am expatriating
Iris:
You as a landlord
Sounds intoxicating
Both:
It's only Public Relations
Who's screwing who
Chorus:
No, not that old PR
Of the yacking and quacking
Making folks happy
That's what I'll do
Sun shine and sea air
Palm trees, martinis
That's what I yearn for--like you, you, and you
Just give me some time
And I'll make it come true!
Chorus:
Calaloo, Strange Calaloo
Mysterious curious roux
Try as you might to avoid the hoodoo
Sooner or later we're all in the stew
>From here in my kitchen
I watch the whole seen
Life on dis island 's
A unique cuisine
It simmers and bubbles
And looks quite routine
Till somebody spill all da beans
Chorus:
Calaloo, Strange Calaloo
Mysterious curious roux
Try as you might to avoid the hoodoo
Sooner or later we're all in the stew
Night after night
On dat terrace out der
Plays a melodrama
Could equal Shakesphere
Dey may tell theirself
Dat somehow dey are not
Best take it from me,
We're all in the same pot
Chorus:
Calaloo, Strange Calaloo
Mysterious curious roux
Try as you might to avoid the hoodoo
Sooner or later we're all in the stew
Bridge:
Hey Hey Sheila, Hey Hey Sheila
Hey Hey Sheila, what's in dat calaloo
Hey Sheila tell us, Hey Sheila tell us
Hey Hey Sheila, What's in that calaloo
We got Crab and pig tell
Squid ink and fish scale
Okra and dasheen leaves
Chitchat and chatter
Fill up the platter
With a garnish of pure make believe
Chorus:
Calaloo, Strange Calaloo
Mysterious and curious roux
Though some might think somehow they are not
Make no mistake we're all in the same pot
Take it from me this is no Camelot.
I never thought of life as being breezy
I never thought of time as time to play
I never thought that I could take it easy
But all those feelings changed for me today
Layers and layers of spices and flavors
Are finding their way to my brain
Layers and layers of costumes and players
That make my whole life look insane
Palm trees and views I can't believe
Why would I ever want to leave?
I think I'll take my shoes off and go walking
Down beside the Caribbean Sea.
I like the funny sounds of parrots squawking
I think I hear a hammock calling me.
Layers and layers of spices and flavors
Could this be some kind of charade?
Layers and layers of costumes and players
I think I will join the parade
Layers and layers of spices and flavors
Could this be some kind of charade?
Layers and layers of costumes and players
I think I will join the parade
I think I've got a touch of island fever...
It took me a while to get used to the slow smoky style of this number. Iris Tramm's first song. It's now one of my favorites. Iris has a dog, a German shepherd named Meadows, who is an important character in the story. She sings to him about her disillusionment with men, hence the refrain " That's why I live with my dog." The song hints that nevertheless falling for Norman Paperman. At Coconut Grove Iris sang to an amazingly lifelike puppet dog, whitch all but upstaged her, and won the audience affection all though the evening.
Shelia says the heart is just a muscle
Shelia says the heart is cooled by time
Hiding out for years down in these trade winds
In the land of coconuts and limes
Chorus:
I've played this game for too long
My life's just one same old song
Now marooned for a time on this island
I go into and out of the fog
And that's why I live with my dog
Instrumental Bridge
Men oh, men oh, oh men I've known to many
Deceivers cloaked in clumsy vanity
What men lack in love and understanding
They make up in stupidity
Chorus:
But now and then one comes along
And lights up my world like a song
I am tempted to unleash my interest
Yet I put it to you man's best friend\
There's just one sad old way it can end
Bridge:
We have our faults
But men have only two
All that they say
All that they do
You're a joy and a friend and a guardian
Never bored with my sad monologue
You're better off with a dog
Sheila says the heart's just a muscle
Sheila says the heart's just a muscle
Lester Atlas, a crude, very rich corporate raider, traps Norman in the Caribbean dream by offering to buy the hotel for him, and then welshing on the deal when Norman can no long back out. He is a despicable but somehow lovable rogue, who in his own mind is a magnanimous, misunderstood benefactor of humanity. What other people call corporate raiding, he explains, telling the truth in business matters. Why Jimmy decided to give him a song with a tango rhythm and a klezmer trill I don't know, but it works.
I'm just an old truth teller
I'm your candid friend
I'm not some daydream seller
I do not pretend
I've a sense of survival
And screwing my rivals
That's labeled me crossed and uncouth
But I can't help it I just tell the truth
He can't help it, he just tells the truth
I'm just an old truth teller
Brutally direct
I see it eye for eye
I'm rarely incorrect
Why call me a sharp trader
A corporate raider
I'm a role model for today's youth
It's so simple, I just tell the truth
He can't help it, he just tells the truth
Bridge:
Why was I born to be right all the time
In deal after deal after deal
Foiling those sharks that are circling my penthouse
Hoping to make a meal
No good deed goes unpunished
Nothing goes as planed
My ingrate family left me
I don't understand
Where's your wife?
In Alaska
Any sons?
In Nebraska
And my daughter milks cows in Duluth
I can't help it, I just tell the truth
Ohh he can't help it, he just sells it
he can't help, he just tells it
I can't help, I just tell the truth
Notes: Henny is Norman's wife of many years. She knows that his move to the Caribbean is a midddleaged fantasy, fraught with potential disaster, but she means to stand by him. Though she to is snared by the island's charm, she's smart enough too know it's an illusion. She's not quite smart enough to perceive that Iris Tramm is a threat to their marrage. Henny sings this song at the Kinja airport, as she is returning to New York to close up their apartment. Off and on Jimmy and I talked about having a "Married Love Song" for Henny. During rehearsal Jimmy wrote this lovely song almost overnight.
I find myself between two worlds
Bewildered all to hell
Up north I have my mid-town life
Down here my new hotel
What kind of a dream is this
Ion't know where I will land
It's a Caribbean fairy tale
The snow has turned to sand
Chorus:
But he's happy
I understand
And thats the key
To my man
Bridge:
I'd like to have a clearer view
And listen to my hunches
Without the rum-lined Kinjan fog
Of a thousand planter's Punches
Iguess I'll have to let it go
And simply tag along
Just let myself get all caught up
Forget what's right or wrong
What kind of dream is this
That's causing me this strife
My husband's chasing windmills
And I'm still the nervous wife
Chorus:
Cause he's happy
And he's my man
What good's this key in my hand
Oh he's happy
I understand
And that's the key
To my man
Sanders
Mr Paperman, go home. Listen to me. Pretend you had a nightmare, and woke
up. This island is a hoodoo, there's death in it, and this is just the beginning. Give it up. Whatever you've invested, forget it and go back to New York. Go home.
Norman
I felt the ground shake
I'm out of water
Critical picture
But things ain't that bad
We could be living
In Communist China
Wearing pajamas
And shouting comrade
I'll fix the Gull Reef
It will be my salvation
We're only talking
A few renovations
Goodbye to public relations
It ain't what I do
Goodbye forever to public relations
Public relations no longer my fate
This is my life and this is my island
Starting life over is never to (sic) late
[Speaks, to Sheila]
Get Hippolyte!
The Gull Reef Club's former handyman, Hippolyte Lamartine, could fix everything and keep the place running no matter what. Sheila knows Hippolyte, and she gets him to come back and take over. Hippolyte is solving all problems and things are looking up, so Norman sings this jolly song about his wonderful handyman. Then it turns out that Hippolyte is a homicidal maniac, which creates difficulties.
Ensemble
Hippolyte, Hippolyte Lamartine
Handiest Frenchman in the Caribbean
Got the Gull Reef Club sparkling and clean
Bravo bon travou Mr. Martine
Who patch the hole in the cistern wall
Hippolyte
Who solved my problems one and all
Hippolyte
A genie in a bottle twenty feet tall
Hippolyte, Hippolyte Lamartine
How come mine host is sitting pretty
A cistern full of water and shekels in the kitty
A million miles away from nasty New York City
Hippolyte, Hippolyte Lamartine
Hippolyte, Hippolyte Lamartine
Hippolyte, Hippolyte Lamartine
Get back to work
Or he'll chop you like sardines
Merci Hippolyte
Lamartine
A little parody of God Rest Ye, Merry Gentlemen, which I wrote at Jimmy's bequest, disclosing the real reason the rich folks live on this "forsaken rock in the sea" - tax avoidance.
The Hill Crowd
God rest ye merry gentlemen
Let nothing you dismay
With Kinja as our domicile
There's so much less to pay
We pay our taxes here
The IRS is far away
Domicile is our comfort and joy
Comfort and joy
Domicile is our comfort and joy
To long ago chances,
To all the long stances,
To strange circumstances,
An Island review.
Green flash at sunset,
Young love recaptured,
Just an illusion,
Would it were true.
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