Thursday, December 28, 2006

A rogue and peasant slave

A too-close flash on Christmas night. I don't know who I was or where I was, but I was wearing a Santa hat that did not belong to me. The beach: without surfing, a dull place where sand meets water. Most beaches are fundamentally the same, but I have to admit that these particular beaches really don't suck. This was me at Grand Turk Island, which left me... A shadow of my former self.
Singer's night out in Ft. Lauderdale, the first escape fromt he ship after our hellish monthlong drydock. We sit here at CHILI'S, which if you know my love for such chain sit-down restaurants says something of my desperation, and afterward we went to Wal-Mart. We know how to party. That's Joe, Corinne, Mallorie, and some jerk.
A couple of pop show pics here... the above from the Mrs. Robinson number, and the below from the number that surely makes all my male ancestors roll in their graves. My Elton John costume. I place this here by request, for my enemies to use against me later.

Monday, December 25, 2006

The Son of God v. The Godfather of Soul

Today is the anniversary of the Roman festival of Saturnalia, which was co-opted by the Christian church under Emperor Constantine in an attempt to merge the major religions of his time into one - his. It celebrates the anniversary of an event that occured (according to most historical sources I've found) more likely around early September.

Today is also the day when we learned that, sadly, Mr. James Brown passed away at the age of 73. Shortly before his passing he was heard to observe, "Suddenly, I don't feel so good."

(rimshot)

Sorry, sorry, had to do it. Have nothing but respect for the man and what he did for music, himself, and for Rocky Balboa.

This morning we all got together and made Christmas decent and as lovely for one another as we could, all things considered.

Another year over, a new one just begun...

Merry Christmas to everyone. I miss you... all. No, really.

Saturday, December 23, 2006

Don't Go Chasing Waterfalls

I wish I were the kind of person who wrote Christmas letters. Actually, I don't, but sitting here I think of writing a Christmas entry for the blog and I thought it would be funny to try to sum up my year in the manner of a suburban housewife circa 1960. It was funny, but depressing. Not what I was going for. Shouldn't have been so honest.

Now, though, things are pretty good. I think. My Christmas will be spent onboard, at sea, with the cast.

It doesn't seem like Christmas here. It's the same as ever, plus garland. Maybe the next two days will be different. Guests tonight were complaining and saying things like "This is a great Fourth of July cruise."

Speaking of guests, we had dinner tonight with a lovely couple from Florida, Dr. Lewis and Mrs. Carol Lash. They are truly nice, genuine people and I hope we'll check in with one another from time to time.

Today was a great day... I woke early in the morning and had coffee while finishing a couple of songs I've been writing, backstage in the theatre. We were docked in Roseau, Dominica (not the Dominican Republic) and we grabbed a ride to near Trafalgar Falls, where we hiked up to a beautiful viewpoint. Beyond that, we blatantly ignored the "Proceed Beyond This Point At Your Own Risk" signs, hiked in a good bit, and climbed rocks at the base of the waterfall. Our goal was to get directly under it, but... well, photos to come, but... once we got within a certain range we realized the water was too powerful and we found a very warm pool between some rocks and enjoyed that for a while. Then we tried to climb back down, which led to several questions about "how exactly did we get up here?" before we made our way back to our hidden pile o' stuff. Then we got a ride back into town and ate at a recommended but questionable upstairs restaurant off the beaten path. We got back to the ship and I fell asleep for two hours. Top that off with dinner with the Lashes and it was a really pleasant day. Until now, as I sit in the crew mess and every time the door to the crew bar is opened I'm blasted by Filipino karaoke. Yes, it is Karaoke night in the crew bar, and that is a circle of hell within a circle of hell.

You haven't lived until you've heard Kenny Rogers' "Lady" interpreted in Tagalog, except for the chorus, which is in English.

Have a bit of a restless feeling lately. Need to shake that. A little homesick because of Christmas and recent, typical seasonal recollections of the past year. Ho hum. Typical.

Pictures will be added soon.

Soon?

Soon, soon, you're a balloon.

Thursday, December 21, 2006

...all I do is keep the beat and bad company

So this is Christmas, and what have you done?

I am sitting here in the crew mess using my laptop because I am stuck on the ship waiting for a safety meeting for my muster station. Bah. Anyway, St. Barth is a fairly generic place - a pricey Caribbean island with sand and water and expensive shopping. I bought some Cuban cigars for the humidor my good friend Luis gave me, and some Christmas cards that I'll give people I see every damned day anyway. Maybe.

I decided to do some of my own laundry today, since I'm here and have some TFD (time for Don)... I just returned from lunch to find that some jerk had taken all of my wet clothes out of the washer and placed them on a nappy ironing board rather than into a dryer, which would have been available at the time my clothes finished. I hate this person and I will find them out. When I do, I will subscribe them to the Dirty Sock of the Week Club, which delivers horrid, fetid, reeking sweaty, discolored socks to people with or without their consent, on a convenient weekly basis. I will develop the technology to travel into the future, and I will get their children to marry people they would not approve of. This is how we advance our technology, through bitterness and revenge.

You have no idea, laundry man, of the subtle revenges I am capable of. Is that drink you got just a little weak? That was me. Did you wake up feeling a little sluggish? That was me. You just sneezed three times? Well, only two of those were mine. You must have other enemies.

Okay. Off to my meeting.

Things are good. Some things very, some things not so, but on the whole they balance to good.

Deciding right now who here might understand my traditional gift of the "Reggie Mollott's Christmas Carol" I wrote some years back...

Wednesday, December 20, 2006

on the way to st. bart's

So here I sit aboard the Seven Seas Voyager enjoying the second of our first two sea days on this Christmasy cruise. By “enjoying” I mean going apeshit stir crazy, further evidence of which is the fact that I used the word “apeshit” in my blog. Is that really just one word? Should it be hyphenated? Ah, the beauty and intricacies of our beloved language.

Anyway, there is much to tell but little to be told. The ship’s halls are decked for the holidays in ways that are sometimes elegant and other times our theatre and the crew bar. A team of decorators came on a few days before the Christmas cruise and erected huge trees, giant gingerbread houses, strands of greenery festooned with red and gold ribbon, and… a couple of tiny electric menorahs you can find if you look hard enough.

The trees in the theatre were initially placed directly in front of the proscenium on the floor in front of the stage. These are somewhat large trees, and this effectively covered about 15 to 20 percent of our stage until they were moved. These trees are well decorated, but somehow seem unfinished. During our really rocky day at sea yesterday, they wobbled more interestingly that the act we watched onstage.

The tree in the crew bar… well, it doesn’t feel like Christmas here, really, and that’s a good indication. It looks like they had an extra tree and needed a place to store it. It’s just sort of randomly placed in the bar, in no particular place, kind of in the middle, and has no topper or anything. It may have at one time smelled of artificial pine, but now, like anything that touches our crewbar, it probably smells like an ashtray.

Tonight we finally “open” with our classical show, and I’m actually kind of excitimapated about it. It’s a very good cast that I really enjoy and they even made “Fabulous Places,” our horrible first-night show, a fun crowd-pleaser the night before last. I don’t count that as our “opening” because it’s terrible and isn’t really a full-scale show.

I am constantly amused by people who come on board and transparently attempt, through legitimate or illegitimate claims of entertainment industry clout, to win favor with members of the cast or cruise department. By “win favor” you know what I mean. I find these antics so horrifically ridiculous – when you break it down its “hey, wanna be in a movie?” – and I am doubly dumbfounded by those people who play directly into it. It’s a sociologist’s dream, life on a ship.

New words I have recently coined: Skankercycle. Famtaculous.

Saturday, December 16, 2006

An entirely heterosexual cruise ship cast?




...possibly.

It's Christmas in the Bah-frickin'-humbug-hamas

Drydock. Since November 20.

Tomorrow, we leave drydock, headed for Ft. Lauderdale. Assuming we do not sink between here and there, we will once more begin cruising in earnest on the 18th. Many cast members have never been on a ship before and are in for a culture shock.

I am looking forward to eating decent food on a regular basis, enjoying the level of "class" associated with this loverly ship (missing of late), and even socializing with guests. Those of you who've been here or know me realize what that indicates about my state of mind.

It doesn't feel like it's almost Christmas. And yet, here it is. Humbug.

Send cheer... not the detergent, I mean, but the conveyance of good spirit. Actually I could also use the detergent. Send both.

For those who have written that I have not written back to, you are not alone. I am a bad friend. I will remedy it sooner, with a great many back payments included I assure you.

See? I wish I was doing Christmas Carol somewhere right now. In fact, I'll go do that in my room. By myself. To my pillow.

Saturday, December 09, 2006

Against convention wisdom, I am waiting for my ship to go OUT


I am currently enduring what has become the longest installation period in the history of maritime performance. We are still in drydock, and every blog entry I've tried to put up has been eaten by the internet, except for the heading of the previous one. Odd. Anyway, perhaps this one will work. Please, send aid, send us technicians and cattle prods for all the increasingly swarthy types who populate our vessel. Drydock does not seem to bring out the best in them.

At least the AC is back on. Most of the time. We are here until the 18th. Yup. The 18th. More news to come.

Bah. Humbug.

Tuesday, November 21, 2006

All my bags are (over)packed, I'm (not) ready to go...

I am sitting in an empty gate are of the Atlanta airport, awaiting a flight to Freeport.. in the Bahamas. I am trying to be as excited about where I'm going and its' eventual travel around the world as people act like I should be when I tell them about it. I'm working on it.

So since I landed at this airport, I heard that Robert Altman passed away. Now there's a guy whose work I really liked, without notable exception. I just remembered... I actually got to work with him a tiny bit back in (geez) ... well, I was still in school, it was in 1995. It was in Kansas City. I was supposed to play a very "white" young jazz singer in a club that Harry Belafonte's character owned. He discussed it with me, we shot it, and he was very nice and encouraging. Then the scene was cut. Or recast with some name cameo person, if I remember, shot later, then cut. I wound up being a kid helping his grandmother in the train station. I did, though, have the experience of "working with" Robert Altman, for all of 20 minutes. If you don't know the guy's filmography, check it out. He directed so many GREAT movies, including one of my great guilty pleasures, Popeye with Robin Williams.

Well, it's almost time for them to call my flight. Then I will schlep all my stuff to the big ol' ship and sit in the Bahamas in drydock for 9 days before starting any cruising.

Now listening to: Brian Posehn's Nerd Rage. I highly recommend it. Very pfunny.

Sunday, November 19, 2006

Irritate the Powerful with Alan Moore

http://www.givemeliberty.org/RTP2/UPDATES/Update2006-11-18.htm

Check out that link. It intrigues me. At first I thought it was inspiring. Then ridiculous. Then inspired. Then laughable. Then I thought... if this keeps growing... if it becomes a "movement" (heh... "movement" - Peter Griffin) ... it might actually be really powerful. It would be, at least in an artistic sense.

Thoughts?

Friday, November 17, 2006

I hereby copyright the word "Christmanukkwanza"

-This is one of the most absurd things I have ever seen. Here's one for your Christmanukkwanza(TM) lists, kids.

-In 2007, barring unforseen circumstances, I will spend time on five or six of the seven continen... wait, I'm reading some news... sorry. Make that five or six of the eight continents.

It will take me far away from my biggest current vice, Triple-shot eggnog lattes, yet within arm's reach of stronger vices like incredibly cheap or outright free drinks on the ship.

I will also be removed from the world where "You, Me, and DuPree" is considered a commodity worth pouring millions into.

What? That's just crazy! They just got married, DuPree can't move in with them, he's a disaster! Look out, America! Better hold onto your plates, there's a big helping of comedy coming your way!

(gunshot)

Thursday, November 16, 2006

If you have nothing to say...

BATMAN, 1989, a little film that you might have seen? The last heading is a Jack Palance line from that movie, later repeated by Jack Nicholson creepily impersonating Mr. P.

I will not say who or how many quizzically referred to that heading
. I understand normal people not getting the reference, but I could probably say horrid, offensive things in this blog and get less feedback from you people than I did about that one random header. Strange.

Then again, according to my tracker info, there are those of you I find consistently lurking about that I've yet to hear from... but that's okay. I understand. Hell, I don't care - I'm amazed anybody reads this.

Random notes...

-Feeling better. Gradually.

-My iPod officially died last weekend. It's been in a coma for some time; the decision was made and its' family was near when the (usb) plug was pulled. I was very sad (angry) when it died (crapped out) but I now am glad it did. See, I replaced my iPod yesterday with a brand new, just released Microsoft Zune. Buy one. I don't get a cut, but I'm sure when Microsoft and China combine their forces to rule the world, I can point to entries like this to aid in my selection for a higher position in the new Sino-Gatesian society.

-I've just made a deal that will keep the Empire out of here forever. I also got a new coat. It's very spiffy and looks a lot like this. Actually, it is that coat, one exactly like it, made to my measurements. I'm happy to have a coat finally long enough to fit me properly. Why should you care? Well, for every purchase of one of those coats... a person... in a factory... is paid a salary to... I got nothing. There is no reason for you to care. Come on, I've been recovering from an injury for a month, doing very little, I have nothing of substance to blog about! All my writing energy has been focused on my book... ... well, cat's out of the bag there.

I WILL have much to blog on very, very soon. Or at least one thing. Not the book.

I would like to make one proposal. no, declaration. See, 2006 was pretty much a bad year for me. I had a lot of great times, sure, met some great friends I will hope to hold onto for years to come. On paper, though, the minuses have outweighed the pluses by an unprecedented margin. That's not melancholy, I'm basically fine, it's just analysis. A lot went down in '06. Anyway, I've spoken with the board of directors, and we are ending 2006 as of November 21. 2007 will not end on that date next year, it will end as scheduled, it will just begin early and be longer. It will HAVE to be a great year. It will have two Thanksgivings, two Christmases, two holiday seasons! Please adjust your clocks and calendars accordingly. 2007 is going to be great.

And long, apparently.

Friday, November 10, 2006

"Jack... You're my number one guy!"

"One of the most important reasons for living is to do something - live outside of yourself and put together an idea, an idea that you want to explore and then complete... Awaken your creative sensitivities."
The Man. 1919-2006.

"Donald, for lack of a better word, is good."

Sometimes you just need to hear something like that. Click on the heading to go the the random insert-your-name-into-a-movie-quote generator that told me that.

Or click here.

Thursday, November 09, 2006

Why I am worried about LOST

This is an entry about a TV show. Yes, it's come to this.

Okay, I just saw the last episodes of LOST I will see before... probably May, based on a number of factors. One major factor is that they're holding off on airing new episodes again until February.

Anyway... I'm not a huge TV watcher. Based on the fact that when I'm at home (in the USA) I tend to work during "primetime" and that I am a huge hater of reality television, I tend to catch a lot of things only when I am introduced to them via DVD, when friends record, or somehow other go out of my way to get them. Such is the case with one of two shows that not quite one year ago breathed life back into my faith in contemporary television... LOST.

Yes, I was late jumping on the LOST bandwagon, but I watched season one on DVD ...all the episodes... one after the other in short order. I caught up on season two, and I was engrossed. The other show? You're going to laugh, but if you haven't seen it don't you dare - Sci Fi Channel's Battlestar Galactica. Again on DVD, I caught up with it. Now they're both into their third seasons, and BSG continues to be strong while LOST is... well, losing me.

The strength of both shows has always been a strong ensemble of very human characters placed in difficult, unimaginable circumstances but dealing with everything in very human ways. Both shows have very large, strong casts. LOST tends to paint its characters with broader strokes, while BSG doesn't rely as much on archetypes as letting the actors do their work. This is not to besmirch the work of the actors on LOST or the writing - it's just a bit more over the top, in that way. There are many similarities, but strangely, now that I think about it, BSG in its more fantastic setting is somehow less of a melodrama than LOST.

Back to the point - LOST, this season. I don't know what's changed. I don't know if the writing staff has changed or if there is pressure from the network to focus on certain things. Since the strength of LOST has always been your concern for the characters and the fact that there are so many plotlines to follow. This season has been, pretty much, dull. They set up so much in the season two ending cliffhanger, and they've touched on almost none of it. They've ignored huge plot elements they introduced only to focus week after week on "They are still in cages! They could get out, but they don't! There's sexual tension!" I'm trying to say all I can without giving anything away to those who aren't caught up. Or don't care. Anyway, I hope that when the show returns, it returns to form. The big "mid-season ending" cliffhanger left me caring very little what happens next.

One strength of LOST's first season, even its second to a lesser degree? You have no idea who will survive from one week to the next. They were absolutely unafraid to knock off a character you knew and loved, unexpectedly, and without leaking it beforehand to Access Hollywood or some other outlet. It was truly unpredictable. One sign that LOST has grown its cajones back? Let the guy kill Sawyer. Don't let us see it coming. Of course, that might be too predictable.

I fear that the show may have lost its way, but I still think it's very well-written and a step in the right direction for television. Problem is, well, I've been hurt before. I watched THE X-FILES. I was so done with it by the end of the series that I had long ago stopped making the effort to record or watch it in years. I have the DVDs, somewhere, up to season 8. and my fear now is that, ike the showrunners of X-Files, the creators of LOST did not have a full overall story arc... just a great premise. One thing X-Files continued to do well, though, even after you knew its "mythology" was going nowhere, was to keep producing good episodes that were unrelated to that. Up to a point, only 5 or 6 episodes a year would deal with the "conspiracy" in any major way, the rest were just damned good spooky and/or supernatural detective stories.*

I have to admit, having to sit around for nearly a month in a place with a DVR has helped me catch some good stuff. If you are like me and usually have limited ability to catch TV, I have to recommend two shows... one of which has the potential to be an all-tie favorite at this point. HEROES, on NBC. Seriously, get it on itunes or find it online somewhere and catch it from the beginning. It is on track to be REALLY good.

And.. JERICHO, on CBS (I think) I have no idea what shows are successful and what aren't, but I'm afraid this interesting little show might not last. Look into both of them -

Okay, my disgustingly stereotypical blog posting which includes my long-winded opinions on television shows is over. You can safely read my blog again, this will not be a habit. For your patience, here is a picture of a monkey smoking a cigarette.

Sunday, November 05, 2006

Tell Me What I Am

A friend just turned me on to this site, which offers a very thought-provoking, in-depth, hyphenation-inducing quiz that offers to help you figure out which "faith" best suits your actual personal belief system. This is not one of those "which _____ character would you be" kind of quizzes that have five questions that all obviously point to one outcome or another... this impressed me. I've always been of the mind that a person's spirituality is a very personal thing, but a very important thing. My specific beliefs draw from many religious influences, and while I have a distaste for organized religion in general I do believe it can be a beautiful thing. That's about as much as you'll get out of me on that subject here. The site is beliefnet.com, and you'll find the quiz by clicking here. Take it - you might be surprised where you fall in. Those that fall in the lower half of the list, or below the 50th percentile, they say, you wouldn't do too well with at all. Apparently I'd be 100% at home with one of these... My results were:

1. Unitarian Universalism (100%)
2. Reform Judaism (93%)
3. Liberal Quakers (92%)
4. Neo-Pagan (87%)
5. Mainline to Liberal Christian Protestants (83%)
6. New Age (81%)
7. New Thought (81%)
8. Bah?'? Faith (76%)
9. Scientology (71%)
10. Orthodox Judaism (69%)
11. Sikhism (67%)
12. Mahayana Buddhism (66%)
13. Islam (61%)
14. Jainism (59%)
15. Secular Humanism (58%)
16. Hinduism (56%)
17. Christian Science (Church of Christ, Scientist) (56%)
18. Theravada Buddhism (56%)
19. Orthodox Quaker (50%)
20. Taoism (47%)
21. Nontheist (41%)
22. Mainline to Conservative Christian/Protestant (39%)
23. Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints (Mormons) (38%)
24. Eastern Orthodox (34%)
25. Roman Catholic (34%)
26. Seventh Day Adventist (28%)
27. Jehovah's Witness (19%)

Friday, November 03, 2006

My name is Inigo Montoya, you killed my father, prepare to buy.

Sitting here on a Friday night with some ibuprofen and Braum's coursing through me, I ran across this seriously expensive but seriously cool item. Click here.

Tuesday, October 31, 2006

HALLOWEEN!

A few short notes...

Saturday night, I was very happy with my "Greatest American Hero" costume. You can only get it at one place in the world, a relatively obscure little website based in PA or MA somewhere. "No one else will be this," I thought. The costume was a big hit everywhere we went on Saturday night, and we saw a lot of other awesome costumes... more on that to come. Anyway, we were crossing the street in Oldtown ato one point when across the street appears... The Greatest American Hero. Same exact costume, wig and all. My doppelganger and I both shouted a surprised expletive, then discovered we'd both bought them at the same place with the same idea, that no one else would.

It was the Saturday night before Halloween, and however I may've been feeling I wasn't going to miss out on the pre-Halloween revelry. At least to some extent - at least I could make an effort join some of my friends.

Thing is, it was like 70+ degrees in Oldtown Saturday night. Now, I'm not up to doing THAT much, but we do plan to at least go to a party or out to eat tonight. As much as I like the costume, the tights... not very warm. Wearing a coat over my costume and wearing that wig... I'd look like Harpo Marx. So I have a backup costume and you get a huge no-prize if you have any idea who I am. Really, drop me a line if you think you know. There IS a hint in this paragraph... nearby...Yes, it's another costume I'm probably going to have to explain and not nearly as good as TGAH and it doesn't even really look like much of a costume. *Shut up.

So the other night... you might remember I was already a sort of Clark Kent/Superman for the superhero party on the ship. Nevertheless, I was thinking about getting one of the very available, really nice Superman costumes that are out this year and going as Superman. Again. Yes, some of you remember I was already Superman in 2004. See *, above. I reconsidered when I realized everyone and their dog is either Superman or a pirate of some kind this year. On Saturday, I saw a guy in (what I thought was) one of the really nice Superman costumes, the higher-end sculpted ones. This was at Liquid, the same place we ran into the Boba Fett guy from last post. A group of ladies got this Batman guy, the Superman, and I together for some pictures, and at some point Batman quietly pointed out that Superman wasn't wearing a costume, really. I had no idea what he meant until I saw... that's not a costume, that's body paint. Really well done body paint, plus a red speedo, Superman belt, long red cape, and red Superman boots. You couldn't even tell up closem at first, that it was paint. Needless to say, the dude won the costume contest.

For those who've written, thanks very much for your concern - this is a minor thing and according to all accounts will have no long-term effects. I'm knocking on wood as I write that. The whole thing is healing up nicely - the pain in the arm is much mellower and I'm no longer taking a destructive amount of painkillers and/or muscle relaxers. I can now sleep through the night with no problem and the doctor says I'll be fit to get back to work... "good as new..." around the 20th of November. Thus, it looks like some turkey with the fam on Thanksgiving and then I head out once more into the great wide open.

Saturday, October 28, 2006

Believe it Or Not, I'm Walking On Air


The Greatest American Hero and The Most Fearsome Bounty Hunter In the Galaxy.
Happy Halloween!

Injury update: Last night, for the first time, I slept through the night, and once I did wake up I didn't immediately have to take something for pain. I am actually mending.

Wednesday, October 25, 2006

In MySpace, Everyone Can Hear You Stream

Yes, as some of you have noticed, I have given in. The links on the sidebar indicate my having joined... MySpace. I have a professional page I haven't spent much time on (here) and a plain old personal page (here.)

Still recovering, and getting frustrated with that. It is getting noticeably better, though.

Wednesday, October 18, 2006

ebay is not freebay

So I'm laying here. Staring at the TV and watching things that have been DVRd by DG for my R&R. Knowing my pinched nerve is getting better, slowly. Ordered pizza for the first time in months. Exciting.

Reading. Finished my book. Bought some comics. Read them.

Bought a couple of DVDs. Watched them.

Wrote a good bit - letters, worked on ...something I've been working on...

Went online.

Puttered around on myspace. Yawn.

Thought, hey, I'll look around on ebay. I did... and I spent some money. See, I have this amazing tricked-out xbox I magically acquired last year. It contains thousands of games - really - every game in every language for every system made up til and including the Genesis, and it can backup DVDs and Xbox games to its harddrive as well. It's smarter than the average xbox. I.... left it on the ship. I played it so much with people in the cast, and Jamie played it so much, well, I figured I could get it back later or whatever. I think in my mind I was preparing to do what I did a few days ago. See, remember when the Xbox 360 came out last year, and you couldn't get them? I would look at them on ebay then and think, wow. People are fortunes reselling these things. I almost bid on a few of them, just because they were going cheap and I thought I could resell them for more. I didn't, though. I couldn't justify paying RETAIL for something like that, much less a scalper's price. So in the intervening year or so, they're more commonplace. You can walk in almost anywhere and buy one. I went on ebay and found a good one with some extras for a really good price, and I won the auction. Paid far less than retail. I can justify this... It will,,, assist me in my convalesence, that's my excuse.

So I bought an xbox 360. Some of you will roll your eyes at that, others will be envious, others still don't read English and can't comprehend any of this. Then there are those of you that I know HAVE this little machine in your homes already, and I am here now to ask... do you have any recommendations as to games / etc. i should get?

UPDATED: "Your Mom" is not actually a game. It should be, though.

Tuesday, October 17, 2006

Discovery

I forgot to mention this, some short time ago. I'm going to be on the Discovery Channel, but there's a catch...

See, I was interviewed and filmed a bit in the shows, along with another singer, about the demands of performing for "demanding, six-star audiences" on such a high-end venue. Ooo, ahh... blech. The host of the program is named Angus, I think, and the episode itself will focus on the Voyager being named as the top luxury ship in the world. I should get a nice spot, and some good exposure, but, thing is...

I don't rememeber the name of the show. It could be "World's Best" or something like that. If you happen upon it, anytime in the not too distant future, please let me know. I have no idea when it's going to be on. I'm a moron. Thanks!

Monday, October 16, 2006

The Journey, Not the Destination

Finishing the hat

I am repatriated.

My next entry, maybe I'll even do it today, will include lots of stuff about the arduous nature of my trip home. For now, though, suffice to say that I am doing exactly as I've been instructed.

I stepped off the final plane of the trip last night around 11:15pm, and luckily one of my best and oldest friends in the world, Dusty, waited for me at the airport when my flight (like most during my 20 hour journey) was an hour late. Who'm I kidding, he's more brother than friend - we've been best friends since we met at the pre-kindergarten "round-up" at age 4. Anyway, he helped me with my luggage and he's graciously allowing me to crash at his funky bachelor pad. Of course, I will reciprocate with copious amounts of delivery pizza and... well, they don't deliver beer, but we can find that. I'm very excited about my first delivery pizza since May. That's later tonight.

There are a myriad of reasons why I'm resting here rather than at the farm, and none of them are familial estrangement. It's just easier in many ways and I think I'll recoup quicker. The trip was a big strain on the whole injury, which had fairly well settled into a pattern of waking me up at night, saying hello, subsiding, hen being mostly fine aside from the numbness until the late evening when my arm would get sore. Yesterday I stayed dosed up with ibuprofen and was okay, considering all I was having to do, except for once on the initial trans-atlantic flight and then on the drive from the airport to here.

By all accounts, doctors and my own online research, all signs point to it healing up on schedule and my being ready to work again by Thanksgiving. That's my goal.

For now, I take it easy. More on the trip, with photography to prove I DID wear Sup's silly hat on the journey, in my next entry. . . at which point I'll probably truncate this one severely.

Friday, October 13, 2006

"Hear this now: I will always come for you."

In 24 hours the ship will have left me behind in a hotel room in Nice. I have already said goodbyes, so longs, and a few see you soons to several of my friends here as a matter of needing to not do it all at once.

I'm flying out at around 11am Frenchy Standard Croissant Time, I think, on the 15th. It's a long trip to make on my own. I think tylenol PM will be my best friend on the plane.

Don't worry, anybody, I am hopeful the doctors are correct and I'll be fine with rest and I'll be back to work within a month or so. Thanks for the emails and the concern, it really does help.

Wednesday, October 11, 2006

Medically Disembarked

UPDATED: Okay, the earlier version of this post was a cheap ploy akin to the 11 o'clock news teaser that tells you "Three things with you in the room right now could kill you... find out which later. Now, here's Berf with Sports!"

So here's what's happening... or first, what happened, in screenplay format:

FADE IN ON DON, PARTNER DANCING TO "OH WHAT A NIGHT" WITH SCANTILY CLAD FEMALE DANCER, FLANKED BY DANCER COUPLES MIRRORING ON EITHER SIDE.

THERE ARE APPARENTLY SOME MINOR BUMPS IN THE SEA, ALL OF WHICH ARE EASILY DEALT WITH AND CAUSE NO PROBLEM.

CLOSE UP: AS DON'S PARTNER TURNS TO DO A QUICK DIP, THERE IS A MOVEMENT OF THE SHIP WHICH CAUSES HER TO FALL. A PIT OF POISONED SPIKES AND DEADLY LASERSNAKES OPENS IN THE FLOOR BENEATH HER.

DON SWOOPS IN AND STOPS HER BEFORE SHE HITS THE FLOOR, KICKS AN ERRANT LASERSNAKE BACK INTO THE PIT, THEN CONTINUES THE PARTNERING DESPITE THE GUNFIRE AND EXPLOSIONS. THE HELICOPTER ARRIVES AND ALL ARE TAKEN TO SAFETY. DON PULLS A GRENADE FROM WITHIN HIS TIGHT BABY BLUE POLYESTER PANTS, PULLS THE PIN WITH HIS TEETH AS HE HANGS OUT THE SIDE OF THE DEPARTING AIRCRAFT.

DON
And that's how they do it in NORWAY, Senor Texiera.

That is entirely true, sans the added element of civil war on the ship. It's for dramatic effect, you understand. See, that happened, nothing was wrong, didn't hurt, but the next morning... twinge. Morning after that, yewoch. Following morning...good lord. Went to ship doc, got injections and pills. More injections each day following doing seemingly nothing. Lots of pain. Cancelled show last night because "THE BARITONE IS DOWN."

Finally a shoreside doctor today. This is an entry to come later, an entry of its own - being sent, alone, to a doctor in France. I had a taxi to take me and a taxi home, but in between - on my own. Fun. Only the doctor spoke English. He sent me for x-rays in another place, which I had to find, and again with no reciprocal English. I returned, he checked me out, and sent me back to the ship with the diagnosis: 15 days of rest, herniated disc. The ship decided to send me home rather than lay me up confined to my cabin for 2+ weeks. More to come, but... I'm heading home.

This is not (knock wood) a major injury and I will be fine, I'm told, in 15 days, a month at the outside. All is well, except I'm leaving many good friends behind. That sucks.

Monday, October 09, 2006

Why am I still hurting?

Today's mood: itchy.
Today's news: injury. Seriousness yet to be determined. Thought it was nothing, but it's gotten worse.

Friday, October 06, 2006

Concert "highlights"...

I put together a little video reel of my recent concert for friends and family, and you can view it here. It's a small file, for ease of the dial-up crowd and those bandwidth-hogging Dutch.

Today's mood: Hrmph.

Sunday, October 01, 2006

My Little Pony, The Acropolis, and My Pants

I have taken to quickly writing posts, then coming back a day or two later and rewriting them a bit. Not editing, just rewording, adding missing details, and maybe making them less offensive to specific religions, ethnicities, or nationalties. Except the French, to whom I say "Où est la soiree? La soiree est dans mon pantalon."

Vive la revolution, indeed.

The above photo was taken from video shot during my headlining show of a few weeks back. I was floored by all the work so many people went to help make it a success. I am truly humbled and thankful for the efforts of Phil Torres and his band, who worked with my charts and made me sound great, to Scott, Chris, and Randy, our tech guys who helped make it look great (and then went above and beyond to help us add all the previously-mentioned effects at the Hero Party a week or so later), and to my really supportive cast and other friends from around the ship who came out and shouted and were generally just ...smurfy.

Below is a photo snapped of me yesterday, in front of the Parthenon at the Acropolis in Athens. Or it might be the Temple of Athena. Or, the Temple of Athena might be IN the Parthenon. Or it might be the Hall of Justice from the old Super Friends cartoon. I don't know, and apparently it's the only place I've ever been I think I actually know LESS about, having visited, than I did before I was there. Last year, we hit Piraeus/Athens, but we never made to the Acropolis because of time and schedules and miscommunication as to how far away from the port it was... so this time it was a priority to get there.


The other night the spa folk threw a party, whose theme is too generic to mention. It was nice, but was of course nothing approaching the party that Jamie and I threw. They did hand out squirt guns filled with various shots, which is a bad idea with Jamie and I around. FYI, do not shoot mixed vodka drinks from a squirt gun into someone's eye. On a ship, that's what's called a "code blue." Kusadasi again tomorrow... and I haven't written about Kusadasi the first time yet. Santorini today.
Oh yeah... This morning, I heard some exciting news:
Yes, Robert Downey, Jr. will be playing Iron Man.

That's not it. True, and I heard it this morning, but not nearly as exciting as:

An Australian scientist with too much time on his hands discovered that Neil Armstrong was misquoted on the moon landing, and his actual first words upon the moon landing were "Though it's cold and lonely in the deep, dark night, I can see paradise by the dashboard light."

That's not it either, and is only partially true.

Ths news is: My good buddy Matt Jones has started a blog. No, this one will be good. See, he has recently accepted a yearlong gig on the MY LITTLE PONY LIVE National Tour. His blog will chronicle his adventures in and out of L'Equus Petit. Click here for Matt's blog. Personally, I think that could be a book in the making.

Friday, September 29, 2006

There was no tomorrow; we packed up all our sorrows and we saved them for a rainy day.

aI have no particular reason to quote Tom Waits right now other than that he's always worth quoting. That's Tom Waits, not Tom Jones, and though both have the distinct and different merits I don't think the wry, pithy, cynical wisdom of Tom Waits is really part of the appeal of Tom Jones.

Anyway... off track. That last post... well, funny how in moments of brow-furrowing funk you can read something like that and think it patently ridiculous. I guess you have to acknowledge that for such moments to exist they have to be shaded by their occassional opposite. I don't mean that to sound melancholy - but when those feelings have come along, lately, it helps that step upstairs and see a sight like this, big as life in front of me:That's off the coast of Capri, by the way. Damn.

Sunday, September 24, 2006

Singular moments

There are singularly perfect moments, which you can only recognize after the fact, because to note them as they are happening will make them self-aware and lessen them instantly . I say “singularly” because these moments are apart from other things; you cannot judge them in context of surrounding life issues or events or problems. They are simple and honest and probably dull.

I realized few minutes ago, as I journeyed the nine or ten stories down to my cabin, that I just had one of those moments.

Mere hours ago (minutes fromt his writing, hours from when I'll get online to post this), I was sitting in the not-too-warm morning sun on the open top deck of a luxury liner anchored outside Sorrento, Italy reading a few chapters of “The Fourth Hand” by John Irving and drinking wonderful coffee in pleasant solitude. That’s my real, honest to God life, and sometimes I get a reminder that it d

Sorrento, Italy is a unique place, visually; especially seen from the sea. It’s one of my favorites and has a lot of happy memories for me. John Irving is probably my favorite author, and this book – while not my favorite – is really growing on me. Anyway, while there are conditions my mind can conjour that would make it “more perfect” or flaws I could identify in my overall life situation vis a vis my even being on this ship right now or my misuse of phrases like “vis a vis,” this was, I feel, a

Singularly Perfect Moment

…and who doesn’t need one?

Friday, September 22, 2006

Kryptonite, magic, and champagne headaches.

So, the other night, after Jamie and I spent a couple of weeks planning, bribing, buying, and a full day decorating the crew bar, we hosted the previously mentioned "Greatest Party In The History of Everything." Originally, this was just going to be a big party thrown by us with no real theme except that it was our party. On the posters, we told people to come dressed as their hero, because parties here seem to work best when people have to get into it to begin with. People took that to mean it would be a superhero party, and we just gave into that idea. Any idea we had in that direction, we did. See that picture above? That's a full-on Bat Signal at the edge of the dance floor, next to the DJ booth where I ran the music. It was attached to a spotlight and people could throw the signal all over the room. Next to this...
Was a four-foot tall ice sculpture of Superman. The flash doesn't do justice to the lighting we set up (with a good deal of help)... and we had a video projector silently running "Superman Returns" in a loop on the wall behind me, which was the opposite end of the dance floor from the Bat Signal. One end of the room we walled off into the "VIP Batcave" which contained couches, champagne, flowers, candles, and a 30-inch video feed of the rest of the party from a camera we mounted in the ceiling. Two other video projectors lit the room with crazy random music-following light shows from my laptop, and the bar was covered by this crazy skyline thing Jamie made. The walls were made into several giant comic book panels people could take pictures in, and a lot of people who never dress up for parties dressed for this one. Of course, the cast always dresses...

Jamie's hero? Ron Burgundy. He was going to be Batman, but good luck with that... so Ron it was. Below - Trey (from the lounge duo), Jamie and I pose for a picture early in the party, before I spilled champagne all over my S. The ultimate tribute? Two of the dancers in the cast came as... me and Jamie. They asked to borrow our pipes, and we didn't know why... we thought ... I don't know what we thought. I think they look just like us, don't you?
I don't have the right pictures to do justice to this party... but ask, and I have stories. Here's a view inside the VIP room. We got a LOT of good champagne, and though it is not my favorite I was responsible for guzzling a good bit of it. If you can't read the wall, it says "Don and Jamie welcome all of you to CLUB WESTERDON's VIP Lounge...especially the ladies..."

Giggity, giggity, giggity, goo, indeed. Yesterday, when we were both awake in our beds silently nursing champagne hangovers, we agreed that we had done well. Now, to avoid the crew bar for a good long while. Today was Sorrento, and more pangs of last year.

Monday, September 18, 2006

We, The Six-Star Luxury Cruisers; We, Who Save Lives.

Much has happened aboard the intrepid Seven Seas Voyager, led by her adventuresome Captain Dag Dvergastein with his motley band of miscreants and... several hundred of the world's wealthiest people. We have been to several different countries, held an unusual kind of bomb drill, been planning for The Greatest Party in the History of Everything, taken up pipe-smoking as a group affectation, and rescued a band of shipwrecked Algerian refugees. I also did my first full on, mainstage, headlining show... which is a real step in the right direction. More on that to come in a later entry.

Actually, right before I last wrote, we were in London for two days.

I hate posing for really touristy photos, especially those such as the above with Big Ben, or with the leaning tower of Pisa, the Eiffel Tower in Paris, or the Rily Byg Phallik Monument in Thailand. It makes one feel... oh, I don't know... somehow insignificant and... challenged. Anyway, we saved the touristy, see-the-sights stuff for day two. Day ONE was running around like mad, trying to see a show and enjoy Covent Garden.
That first night in London, we four singers went to see BLOOD BROTHERS. We settled on it because it's the "original" production, it's not a big corporate show that you can see just anywhere, it's particularly English, and Jamie and I have played the opposite brothers in productions in the US. It was very good, and I now realize the Narrator is the role to have.The next day, first thing, we toured the rebuilt Globe Theatre...
It was impressive. I have no words. It really lit my fire. Then, on to L'Orient, then Bordeaux, Santander, Vigo, Lisbon, Cadiz, Barcelona, and other places guaranteed to give me a bit of a twinge for last year. Then Nice. Today is Corsica, which is supposed to be beautiful. On the ship, we continued to pass time as best we could, with exhibitions of bare-knuckle Irish boxing.There was a party to send off the very popular Safety Officer, and all the guys in the cast wore our muster station vests. After the boxing match, things were much happier.

The fight was undecisive, and we remain friends. THEN... after Spain, and France... we rescued nine Algerian refugees who'd been adrift on an overturned Zodiac for three days on the Mediterranean. They'd set out with provisions and water and ten people. We found them with nine people and the clothes on their backs. I'll add a picture of this later.... Anyway, gotta run. Crew drill in ten minutes.

Friday, September 08, 2006

Spies In The Night


Last night, the travel concierge department (formerly "shore excursions", now even further fancy-schmancified to fit the Regentization of the line) hosted their crew party... James Bond Night. They had asked Jamie and I to be the "official" James Bonds for the night. We figured there would be many Bonds in attendance, but we were wrong... we were the Bonds. We definitely represented two very different aspects of 007... but the martinis did flow and we posed for a lots of pictures. As with all crew parties, the drinks were free. The tour ladies were behind the bar, each mixing a specialty martini of their own. Jamie's drink was poisoned by an agent of SPECTRE, but I think it was just a roofie.I learned one interesting thing last night, and some of you who remember Superman III will know what I mean: Gin is officially my red kryptonite. Hey... a big fat no-prize to the first person who can tell where the title of this post comes from... Next up, in a few weeks, Jamie and I have talked the crew welfare people into letting the two of us throw a crew party. Not our department, just us. Here's our "teaser" poster... we haven't quite nailed down a theme, except "hey, come to our party!"

Monday, September 04, 2006

Le Morte d'Irwin

Steve Irwin has been most sadly killed off
Australia's coast by the foul stingray's barb
His crikey call shall never 'gain be heard

Rest in peace, Crocodile Hunter.

Thursday, August 31, 2006

Goodbye, Irish!

A few more random pics I didn't get on the last entry... First, me and Aiden, whom we call simply "Irish" in the crew bar on the night before Belfast. He leaves in a few days, and he's my second favorite hobbit on the ship. No, he's not as short as he appears in this photo, nor am I so tall...From the same night, a bunch of us enjoying Fass (?) beer night in the crew bar...
Last but not least, me standing outside some tourist trap in Edinburgh that I'll wager does not provide as complete a whisky experience as Jamie and I had... as you can tell from my apparent concern for my own well being...

More new pics below...

Wednesday, August 30, 2006

Here we are, born to be kings

Finally freed from the Baltic, I have spent the last few days in Scotland. Today was Portree on the Isle of Skye, yesterday was Inverness (and Loch Ness!), the day before that was Leith/Edinburgh. That's pronounced something between "ed'nberg" and "ed'nburruh" but not either one exactly. You will be corrected. Now, for photos:

To begin, some pics from my first day in Scotland. Jamie has a friend from college, Ashley, living in the city, so she shepherded us around for the day. It was a wonderful day in a city I absolutely could love living in. Some pics: First of all, Jamie, Ashley, and I on the bus in Edinburgh with an empty bottle of Laphroaig we were given by a friendly pub owner. As we travelled around the city all day, we sampled whiskys (not "whiskey" and not "Scotch", you'll find) and more... this pub owner recommended this and then couldn't pronounce it herself. Suffice to say my guess of "Laughing Frog" was not correct but stuck better than the true name, "Luh-froyg."














Next, again from Edinburgh, it seems Dr. Who built on to his home... and he needed a coffee... I include this for those of you who I know would take the same photo.

Next is a horrid picture of me taken atop the National Museum of Scotland, with the storm whipping me about. Behind me? Edinburgh Castle and the city. I may look like hell but the city is majestic.


Next, me at Loch Ness. We have seen the monster, and it is us. We started on a first-ever full cast expedition, to Loch Ness. We left Invergordon for Inverness, then found a ten quid taxi tour to the loch. As we went along we gradually lost everyone. It wound up with just me and Jamie... we planned to hunt the beast, punch it in the neck, and return with it as a trophy to the others who didn't make it all the way there.


This is taking forever, and I am running out of time... I don't know how many more of these I can do right now... but... here we are on the Isle of Skye, quite predictably battling to prove there can be only one...

How did that end? Atop Portree Tower... Strangely enough, unlike in "Highlander," there were no lightning flashes and winds of change, no apparent "quickening" whatsoever. Just dead, beheaded bodies. In fact, I'm probably wanted for multiple homicide, and that NEVER seemed to be an issue for the tragic immortals of said film series. Anyway....I love the fact that, while walking around this quaint Scottish island town, I'm with a group of people who see toy swords in a shop window and decide we need to go find a castle grounds on which to battle. The field we fought on was a story unto itself... but I've been working on this entry for three days on and off, stealing bits on internet time here and there, and... well, write me if you want that story. NEXT: We few, we happy few... we who wear brown coats...




Thursday, August 24, 2006

This Trumps Everything

From now on, whenever anyone makes a big, tough boast, I can probaly trump them. "You once beat up seven guys? Yeah, well, I'm not allowed back in Russia."

No, really. Okay, truthfully, their immigration isn't organized enough to make this a truly permanent state of affairs, and it likely wouldn't remain this way with much of a challenge, but for now...

Jamie, Sup, and I are barred by the authorities from getting off the ship in a Russian port. We tried to smuggle plans for their new caterpillar submarine drive back to the US in hopes of... no, that was Hunt for Red October. Surely what WE did was equally heinous, an equal threat to Soviet... oops, I mean Russian security.

In the case of Jamie and I, we were trying to go to a Jazz Club and one of the authorities at the gate, a large woman who obviously wanted money, would not let us pass because we somehow had the wrong credentials. We were luckily with the only person on the ship who speak fluent Russian, and while we watched them talk I lost my motivation to go to the stupid bar. Jamie, on the other hand became visibly incensed that he wasn't being allowed to do what he wanted to do. He began shouting and puching at the air. This didn't help. I told him he wasn't helping, and the woman who was barring our way out of the port gate called and put an alert out for us. We didn't really know that. Basically, it meant that everyone would be on the lookout for us.

We went outside and tried to get a cab to take us out - in which case we could just go through, no having to walk through the checkpoint. Even the cabbie knew we were persona non grata, and offered instead to drive us back through the port and back to the ship. We did that. Then we hopped on one of our tour busses right in front of our ship, and thought we could get out of the port that way and grab a cab. I did not think this was a good idea. I was saying that when the immigration authorities came onto the bus and made us get off. They asked for our passports - even the Russian's - and Jamie continued to mouth off. Though the woman in charge there couldn't understand what he was saying, he was pissing her off. I was telling him to stop it and our friend to tell the Russians that he didn't speak for us, but it did no good. They were resentful idiots, and they tried to actually do worse ( I learned later) but reached the limits of their power at barring us from re-entering Russia and had to let us go back onto the ship.

The next day, our friend Sup had a similar but much less dramatic run-in that resulted in him also being banned. They've been really ridiculous this year, the Russians, and I'm glad we've made our final stop there. Last year was a lot better there. It's actually become much more of a pain, dealing with the authorities there.

Anyway, the next morning - our last day - I thought to try to get off the ship to see what happened. there were two lines - one where they checked names and passports against our crew list, one where they didn't. We didn't know that, and I happened to go through the line where they didn't check. One of the people I was with saw Jamie's and my name on the list, circled in red and x'd out. So, I got into Russia to go to the port CD shop's end of season clearance. I returned unscathed with a couple of CDs, some postcards, and some free chocolate the shopgirls gave us.

Or, to put it another way, I snuck into Russia, retrieved the documents, romanced the locals, and returned to tell the tale. I'm a regular James Bond.

Self-aggrandizment 101.

Thursday, August 17, 2006

A flick of the neck

A couple of stories - one very recent, one not so recent...

Apparently, there's a gesture here in Russia used to indicate association with the mafia, and it gets you out of everything from waiting for traffic to paying for vodka. A few of my friends onboard here were headed out for a guys night and their taxi became stuck in traffic, waiting for an accident to be handled by the police and ambulance and whatever. The driver decided not to wait - he pulled out of the lane and drove up and through the scene of the accident. When he got a look from police, he made this gesture involving a flick of the neck. When asked what was going on, he explained in one word - "mafia."

Once the guys were at their destination bar, one of them approached the bar and, mimicking the gesture used by the cab driver, said only "vodka." Keep in mind this is a place notorious for tricking unknowing foreigners into paying hugely inflated sums for drinks... well, when the bartender saw this gesture, he nodded and reached under the bar. He came out with a large full bottle of some of the best vodka they had, and simply handed my friend the whole bottle without a word. No payment, no nothing - just matter of fact. I figure they're lucky no actual mafia was there to see this take place, because I imagine some ...um... hurt feelings may be involved at this posturing.

Yesterday I was reminded of a story from last year, in Lisbon. I know very little Spanish. Enough to get me back to the ship and around a little bit in Spain. Here is an example of how Spanish is NOT Portugese. We were out in Lisbon one night and trying to get back to the ship - the driver was not getting it. I cannot spell anything in either of these languages correctly, but suffice to say that the words for "ship" are similar if not the same, but the Spanish word for "cruise" is apparently VERY close to the Portugese word for... well, that comes later. The driver kept giving me strange looks every time I said this. We wound up being dropped off about a mile from the ship down a long wharf street because though we could see the ship we couldn't get it through to the driver that we didn't want the terminal, we wanted that ship. The cobblestones were not a good walk for someone in heels... and no, that wasn't me. I think. It was over a year ago.

Anyway, the next night I was asking a Portugese maitre'd friend of mine what I'd said wrong, and he explained to me that as repeated what I was saying time and time again inhopes of maybe getting the driver to understand "cruise ship"... such repetition being the very definition of insanity ... apparently I had been over and again insisting that we be taken to the crucifixion ship, the ship on which they crucify. The Spanish word I knew for "cruise" is apparently closer to the Portugese word for "crucify" than anything else. Spanish is not Portugese. Obregad.(o).

Friday, August 11, 2006

Bright light city gonna set my soul, gonna set my soul on fire

I'm posting with astounding regularity lately, but only because I have specific things to communicate... for instance, in the past couple of days, I have gotten a number of hits from Las Vegas. I cannot for the life of me figure out who that could be, but I don't think it's anyone I know. I'm really curious, Vegas person, if I do know you - drop me a line if I do.

Lately I have been thinking a lot about the temporary illusion that is ship life. I have blissfully remained outside it this time around. Last year I was lucky in that I found something remarkable with the potential to be a very real, lasting thing while out here, but I didn't acknowledge how ship life and "real" life eventually intertwine and... yeah.

Now I know this, and in trying to deal with "real" and "ship"... there's no difference. You have to know that whatever petty dramas or anything that concern people here aren't lasting; only rarely are they anything but problems built from boredom or conveniences of proximity. You have to be very lucky to find something lasting and real, to have anything other than what some call "single serving friends" even. This cast is great about this - we're all good friends, and we're mostly fairly aware of the transitory nature of all of this and that we all have lives and issues we left on shore that we'll return to come the end of our contracts. Things like what I found last time I was on this ship.

Thursday, August 10, 2006

Info

My cell number is working again, and so my regular voicemail works again. It's been a mess getting that straightened out.

Also, I noticed that for the first time since I put it on the site my terror alert level has changed - notice on the right there.

Monday, August 07, 2006

Overdue photografia

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Here are a few photographs, none of which are that significant, but given that I have yet to take one picture since I left Florida, I'm lucky to have these. Come to that, I don't even think I took any in Florida. Considering the vast archive of photography I took last year, apparently I'm having a backlash. Anyway, the first photo is Diversity, which I believe is an old, old wooden ship used during the civil war...
Actually, it's the Vasa, in the museum which bears its name in Stockholm. It's an immense warship that went down in the harbor in the early 1600s and was preserved by the brackish waters here, only to be raised a few decades ago and painstakingly restored and made to be the centerpiece of this amazing place of archeological and anthropological ...something or other. Heh.
Next is... Jamie and I, enjoying our "gentleman's drink" as we do each week after the Captain's Welcome before the Classical show. A glass of port in the Horizon Lounge and witty banter that makes us fall out of our chairs laughing but would likely annoy or confound nearly anyone else to tears. Most of you (that I know of) who are reading this would probably chime right in.
And finally, a picture that feels like it was taken years ago, but was in fact only taken in June. This is me and three people without whom I may well have long ago jumped overboard. Sup, Christina, and Jamie. "And then there were four."
We found this picture while compiling all of our photos and, well...It seems we were all so much younger then. Actually, I just realized that three of us have had birthdays since this was taken, and Jamie's about to have one, so we WERE younger then. This was at some random bar in Orlando.
So, that's what I have. I don't know if I'll ever get out my camera; I'm not hugely motivated to do so, but maybe when we hit the British Isles. See previous entry.