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.

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.

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.

...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...

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.

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.

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.