That's the ringtone on my phone....has been since college.

Only I've never really felt Margaritaville was Key West, having been there in various seasons. Margaritaville the main street in Marsh Harbor, best walked after a long day of slacking in a hammock strung beneath coconut palms. It's stumbling from Sapodilly's over to the Sand Bar where they close the vinyl window flaps on the tent-of-a-place when the storms roll in. They have good conch fritters and horrible karaoke. There really are pirates still in the caribbean too. My co-conspirator crewmember and I met one named Johnny "Fried" Cash and he explained the finer points of living on a boat, conch fritters and hunting boars in the salt marsh with a 5-gauge shotgun. (I think that was the Jack talking there...) We got invited to a gang fight scheduled for the following evening. We politely agreed, but secretly planned to vanish.

Next to Cap'n Johnny was a Kalik-plastered guy peeling shrimp...found out he was ex-management for Gulfstream Airlines.

That, my friends, is Margaritaville.

All of this was actually on a charter trip and we actually got per diem that more than covered the beer and fritters.

Bottoms up!