I have often said in conversations about sales, marketing, business strategy, and music that the greatest entrepreneur of the 20th century and now 21^st century is not Steve Jobs, Bill Gates, Elon Musk, Donald Trump or anyone else who regularly graces the pages of the Wall Street Journal, Forbes, or the NY Times. No, the greatest is Jimmy Buffett. Bar none and hands down.

Jimmy was born on Dec. 25, 1946. The exact day as my father. My father was, in fact, the man who introduced me to Buffett when I was still in the single digits of life. I still remember it. On Nov. 3, 1983, he appeared on Austin City Limits, which at that time we watched regularly on PBS. In fact, that and Ken Burns were the only reason I ever watched PBS, I guess. That night though my life changed course forever and I don’t think I even realized it. He played songs like “Son of a Son of a Sailor,”“A Pirate Looks at 40,” and “One Particular Harbor.”

Jimmy sang of life in the most romantic sense. No, he didn’t croon like Sinatra, or have the silky smoothness of Van Morrison. He sang of the romantic past, of men who didn’t fit and wouldn’t conform ina society of overwhelming consumerism. He sang of pirates, ramblers, black sheep, and of daring men who smuggled and fought in mercenary wars. I mean, what wasn’t to envy at 8 years old?

Listening to Buffett gave me the escape I so desperately desired from the small town I grew up in. So much so that I have spent the rest of my life pursuing that dream much to the misery of my wife and family sometimes. In fact, on social media on Saturday when news of Jimmy’s death spread, I posted my own tribute stating that I once confessed to my therapist that I made my decisions based on Jimmy Buffett songs. She passed out. Well, not literally, but the little lady couldn’t talk for a while she was so stunned. Honestly, it sounds funny, but it is the truth.

Now, if your favorite Buffett song is “Margaritaville” this all may go over your head or you may think I’m nuts. And maybe I am. But Jimmy was so much more than an entertainer to meand people like me. Yes, I saw him in concert and it’s one of the wildest things I have ever seen live. Keep in mind I have spent a lot of time on the water in some wild places, too. He was a spiritual guide, a friend we never met, a stranger in a dive bar we shared a beer with and may have confided our sins and shortcomings to. Jimmy was the ultimate self-made man to us. Keep in mind Nashville rejected him in the 1970s and upon the advice of a friend he took off to Key West to regroup. Well, that changed everything. Since then, Nashville has come crawling to him with the like of Paisley, Jackson, Chesney, Brown and many others dying to take a pathetic spin at island life and music dipped in the aroma of saltwater while never actually living the life that produced the music Buffett so effortlessly put forth.

In the end Buffett amassed a fortune of more than a billion dollars — yes, that is a ‘B.’ Through music, tequila, beer, margarita mixes, T-shirts, casinos, hotels, restaurants and an empire only few could grasp — the Pirate won. The beach bum rocked flip flops, baggiesand Ray-Bans into the stratosphere. The way I see the world was shaped by a sailor from Alabama, the dreams I chased so many times were seeded by a guitar player who sang of life, freedom, and love in such a way that as I sit here today and think of a world without him, I cannot be too sad. Few will ever have the impact he did. So, in the end, I think all we can do is say Thank You, Bubba! 
Oh, and my favorite song of his changes depending on my moods but it’s probably either “Savannah Fair Thee Well” or “Tin Cup Chalice.” And my favorite cover he ever did was “Southern Cross.”

Tight lines and following sees y’all.

Jimmy, you will be missed.

—Outdoors columnist James Pressley can be reached at jameskpressley@gmail.com .