Jimmy Buffett and Ernest Hemingway?

Yesterday, I listened to Jimmy Buffett belt out several stanzas of his most famous song. He was doing a charity benefit for the Gulf Shores. It was a sold out event. He was in yellow shorts, colorful tank top, no flip flops and having a great time. I wanted to be there, but I was home watching him sing and philosophizing in my favorite red chair with my dictation machine’s red light for go - on.

Now, what was the question? The question was whose fault is it?

There are four stanzas to the ubiquitous 1977 song Margaritaville. Buffett proceeds in these stanzas, known to millions of people around the world, to move from, it was her fault to finally admitting it was all his fault. And he was not the only famous person to make the confession transition.

As the story is told, Ernest Hemingway had many problems throughout his life, which he blamed on everyone but himself. However, on his death bed, he proclaimed he now knew it was all his fault. Buffett and Hemingway, from a popular singer to a legendary author, have shown us a real life principle. It is our fault.

What is our fault Mr. Webtalk? It is all our fault. That is the point. Many of us, blogger included, spend a Hemingway life-time or several Buffett stanzas blaming others for all the stuff that happens. It is a waste of time because it is our own fault. Now I am not suggesting that we put thorns on or head, lay hot ashes on our back and horse whip ourselves for our lack of “fessing” up. I am merely suggesting that “fessing” up would save a lot of time and headaches.

If you are not happy with your job, personal life, where you live, how you look, it is your fault. Okay, I hear your objection. Certainly, there are circumstances that are beyond our control. Some people are born with disabilities. That is not there fault. But how they deal with their circumstance is. I have witnessed few individuals that some rain did not fall on. It happens.

Listen to Margaritaville or read Ernest Hemingway. Do not wait until the last stanza or the last hurrah in which you assume the embryonic position in a nursing home to fess up. If you have a problem, it is most likely your fault. Admit it, then do better. It is a stress reducing event.

Follow me. It will be a memorable and thought provoking journey.