Jimmy Buffett performs at La Cigale n Paris, France, on Sept. 26, 2014. Photo by David Wolff-Patrick/Redferns.

I’m not a huge fan of Jimmy Buffett’s music. I mean, I don’t hate it. Finding a Jimmy Buffett song is like finding a raisin in a cookie. It’s fine, it’s not offensive or anything. They taste pretty good – kind of a fun surprise, if you’re in the mood.

Rendering: Adam Pardee/STAFF.

It doesn’t alter my life. I’ve already worn Hawaiian shirts and drank big drinks containing chunks of fruit.

But Jimmy Buffett as a businessman?

Jimmy Buffet as a gimmick?

Jimmy Buffet as an attitude?

I’m a huge fan of those Jimmy Buffetts. Especially the attitude … the fun, the laughs, the kindness. The world needs more Jimmy Buffetts.

Buffet died Friday at the age of 76 of undisclosed causes, hopefully of relaxation, with a little sand in his bed and a just-finished fruity drink on the nightstand.

He made a lot of people discover their inner beach bum, and the world would be even more uptight without him. Even Republicans. My straightlaced Republican stepdad, who drives a gas-guzzling car the size of an airplane hangar and has had the same landline phone number since Barry Goldwater was a contender, LOVES Jimmy Buffet.

I was a kid when “Margaritaville” was a hit. That was before we made fun of yacht rock, when everyone was still recovering from Vietnam and Watergate and needed escapism. The country needed to have some fun and not everyone was coordinated enough for disco lessons.

We needed something to send us to the beach, and Brian Wilson took the decade off. “Margaritaville” was so timely and, really, such a good song for its genre, it started a grand trend.

By the way, “Margaritaville” was Buffett’s only top-100 hit. And it, eventually, launched a movement that made him a billionaire.

Yes … with a B. We’re talking Jimmy Buffett, not Warren. Though they were friends.

If this weekend’s tributes are a good indicator, he was friends with everyone. Paul McCartney’s tribute was the most heartwarming thing he wrote since “Hey Jude.”

Jimmy Buffett sold a lifestyle: records, concerts, resorts, restaurants, books … a brand. He wrote songs called “A Pirate Looks at Forty,” “Cheeseburger in Paradise,” “Why Don’t We Get Drunk” and “My Gummy Just Kicked In.” His fans call themselves “parrotheads.”

No, I’ve no idea how they got that name. But I’m sure it involved many, many margaritas and a large, friendly bird.

Buffett had a responsibility to have enough fun to keep his legions happy. Can you imagine living a life devoted to having fun and making billions from it? I think I said it about Danny Trejo last week after he celebrated his 55th anniversary of sobriety (ironically), but Jimmy Buffett may have the greatest American success story in history.

Buffett may be gone, but I’m hoping the attitude remains, because we need it more than ever: Relaxing with the cadence of the surf, warm sand, bright skies, cool ocean, a few acoustic guitar strums and smiling friends all around with nothing but Mother Nature’s beauty between them and the horizon.

That’s nice. And Jimmy Buffet sold it effortlessly. Because that was him.

I used the word “gimmick,” which is just my inner cynic making a brief appearance. Because it probably wasn’t a gimmick. There’s nothing wrong at all with commercializing the laidback beach lifestyle. Especially when it comes from a guy for whom it came so naturally. He had a big smile, scraggly hair, loud shirts, shorts and he strummed a guitar while singing clever songs about a life to which so many aspire. And the lifestyle was for everyone. He made getting old look cool.

Which beats the hell out of so many making a living selling separation and fear that doesn’t exist until we make it up.

Everyone wants to be that person Jimmy Buffet said we could be.

Most go to the beach thinking it’ll just happen … then look at their watch too much, get out their laptop, worry about what’s happening at the office without them, yell at their kids, complain about sand and get mad at the sun for being warm.

It’s still technically summer. Go to the beach, a lake, an irrigation ditch … whatever. Light a tiki torch and drink rum from the bottom half of a pineapple in salute to Jimmy Buffett. And take it easy. We need more easy.

Follow music critic Tony Hicks at Twitter.com/TonyBaloney1967.