Today we hate the song "Margaritaville" by Jimmy Buffett.
This is one of those cases in Song Hate where the song itself isn't all that terrible. The tune is pleasant and memorable but WAY corny. It's essentially a country song, when you think about it: Guy on the beach lamenting about a lost love. Simple rhyming structure "cake, bake; salt, fault." Then after pondering all his troubles, the beach bum realizes it's his "own damn fault." Yay.
But all in all, it's an average song, not terribly offensive. But here's the deal: the people who LOVE that song really make me HATE that song. I believe they refer to themselves as "Parrotheads." They're the ones at a bar who get excited as soon as they hear those first five xylophone notes and raise their Coronas. Then they sing it out loud like it's the greatest drinking song ever. They also adopt this "aw shucks," "why can't we all just relax and hang loose" approach to life. But instead of truly being cool and hanging back, they foist that shit on YOU and confront you with why you're the uptight one, because suddenly they've got a license to be a drunken asshole.
True, I've personally been a drunken asshole A LOT. But we're not talking about me, so suck on it. I'm a straight up, traditional drunk. But this here is inexcusable:
So we retire "Margaritaville" to the rafters of time. Take it off the radio forever, take off the grass skirts and let's get back to getting stuck in traffic on the overpass. Amen.
If you really wanted to, you could buy the song here.
