Jimmy Buffett dreamed up the Island of Lost Laundry, and it was a perfect example of his extraordinary creativity.
He mentioned the mythical island in a 1985 article in the Coconut Telegraph, the combination fan newsletter and mail-order catalog for his brand-new Margaritaville Store. I know this because, when Jimmy and his business partner Sunshine Smith opened the store, they hired me to edit the monthly Telegraph — a job that still ranks among my all-time favorites.
For the August 1985 issue, Jimmy contributed a piece titled “Lawyers and Laundry” that touched on the challenges of getting laundry done while on tour. It contained one of the first public mentions of the Island of Lost Laundry.
“Many a poor sock never returns from this fearsome place, which also attracts cigarette lighters and guitar picks,” he wrote.
That’s what I mean about Jimmy’s creativity. Instead of getting irritated over socks lost in the laundry, or rushing out to buy new ones, he conceived a quirky concept that elicited smiles — and wrote an article about it.
His ability to draw inspiration from mundane happenings was the genius behind his songwriting. I mean, who else could turn the craving for a cheeseburger into a hit song that has endured for decades?
“Lawyers and Laundry” had completely slipped my mind — until I rediscovered it while rereading early Coconut Telegraph issues on Sept. 1, the third anniversary of Jimmy’s death.
But Jimmy’s article wasn’t the only touring tale we published in the early newsletter. His longtime Coral Reefer band member Fingers Taylor, a harmonica wizard without equal, contributed lively post-tour wrap-ups that we dubbed “Dirt From the Road.”
Fingers was a faithful correspondent with a wonderfully understated sense of humor. His articles contained behind-the-scenes scoops and “dirt,” though some tidbits were tamer than others. For example, in his chronicle of the 1985 tour, he admitted that the Coral Reefers had slowed down a bit — or possibly even matured.
“The fact that the ‘End of Tour’ party, a get-together traditionally characterized by wanton acts of abandon and serious debauchery, was highlighted by a domino game this year makes some sort of statement,” he wrote for the November 1985 issue. “Could this be the legendary party band that used to drink 14 cases of beer for starters, before the two bottles of Chivas and Mount Gay arrived? This year nobody trashed the room, and the cops never even showed!”
Fingers also wrote about the friends and personalities who joined Jimmy and the Reefers for various shows — including famed television newscaster Ed Bradley, “Miami Vice” star Don Johnson, actors John Candy and Harry Dean Stanton, musician Glenn Frey of the Eagles … and Godzilla (or at least a blow-up representation of him), who apparently loomed large during the 1986 tour.
Like Jimmy, Fingers reported on the challenges of doing laundry on the road. “Our Holiday Inn in Evansville, Indiana, was definitely a contender for Motel of the Tour,” he wrote in 1985. “It featured not only a basketball court, but two sets of washing machines — clearly some sort of road oasis. It’s the little things that mean so much when you’re out of clean socks.”
That, of course, brings us back to Jimmy’s Island of Lost Laundry. Despite his description, I never thought it was a fearsome place. To me, it was sunny and tropical.
I can still envision it today: shirts waving empty sleeves in welcome as new arrivals drift across blue-green water, pants running to meet them as they land on a tranquil shore. Rather than mourning socks and other garments that inexplicably disappear in the dryer, I imagine them joining a happy colony of other vanished attire.
Even now, some 40 years after Jimmy dreamed up the fabled island, the vision makes me smile.
Thanks for the memories, Jimmy.
