Thursday, October 30, 2008

Beat the Geek

We played a cruise game with the cruise staff called Beat the Geek. A guy from Shorex didn’t show up, so the panel of experts was made up of 3 people from Second City, a cruise staff hostess from “Philly—and by Philly I mean the Phillipines!!!” and our technical director. We had never played this before. The guy who hosted the games (he who said Philly) recruited people from the audience so it was Crew vs. Guests. He said it would be impossible to beat the Geeks because we had been undefeated for the past 124 cruises. This made one woman in the audience lose her mind (rather large, close to 70, with a white bob and a pink plaid shirt). “Well of course! Of course they were winners! BECAUSE YOU ASK THE SAME QUESTIONS EVERY TIME!” He calmly explained that he did not, she kept arguing, fact-free. He said (I think) “hey, I don’t come to your house and make your menu” which she found very insulting and made her friend laugh very hard and say “hahaha I wish you would!!!”

We played versus a large, tan drunk looking guy from Indiana, an obese, spilling over the side of the chair guy with crazy teeth and sunglasses (host: “are you competing in world series poker?” man: “ “) a tiny 11 year old boy, an apologetic looking 50-ish white woman with cornrows and MC Hammer pants in hemp, and a 75 or 80-ish old man who frowned and got very upset for most of the game. He was convinced the game was stacked and when we got the question “what is the square root of 9” in the “Numbers” category, he said “Oh COME ON” and grumbled and yelled at the host and brought it up during the rest of the game “like the square ROOT OF NINE.” He didn’t laugh or cheer much unless we got one wrong, and generally the crowd didn’t applaud us if we got one right. They got the question “what was the name of the first Harry Potter book” and the kid didn’t know the answer. Everybody insisted he did until he raised his hands in the air exasperated and said “my mom won’t let me watch them!” and the apologetic corn row lady quietly said “Harry Potter and the Sorcerers Stone” and the crowd applauded and she looked like she was going to barf. The host said “yes, Philosopher’s Stone in America, Sorcerer’s Stone in England” which we let ride for a second and then a Second City person said “THAT’S WRONG” so that person didn’t explode.

Usually they played two 10 point rounds. The Guests were getting so many wrong that the host ended the game early, engineering a Guest win. The guest panel lost its mind, particularly the guy from Indiana.

Afterwards, the pink plaid shirt lady came up to us, all delighted smiles and said “good try but you really didn’t stand a chance against Bob” who was her husband and the angry old guy. “He has his masters from (somewhere) and his PhD from (somewhere) and now he owns a bookstore and reads all the time. I mean he is one smart guy!!!”

Wednesday, October 29, 2008

typical

Cab Floor



Many cabs in these islands have kitchen floors. Here is one example.

Yooo!


A Roatan Looker!

Tuesday, October 28, 2008

Roatan, Honduras

Today, we went to Roatan, in Honduras. Are you a mutt? Are you an unattractive mangy mutt with low hanging balls and a softball like growth in your neck? I have found a place for you to be comfortable and make your home: Roatan! Meet mutts like you! In the street! Perhaps finally find female mutts who will appreciate you! Belonging! Acceptance! Edible Trash!

Otherwise, this was a delightful port. Very poor, but with a tourist friendly vibe, by which I mean: beer is $2. We sat in a great outside bar under a roof with a delightful breeze and a pier that went out to the ocean. Most of the furniture looked like it came from Staples: a portable, plastic card table and 6 boss-type rolly chairs—bleached damp fabric with a high back and arm rests. So we may have crabs. There was also an oriental rug under us and after a while, they got more customers, so they brought in nice, dining room table type chairs from across the street. A couple next to us was sitting in some Adirondack chairs, the arm rest of one noisily fell off about 3 times. The glassware was all juice glasses you get in an American grocery stores and plastic picnic wear wine glasses you get in dollar stores. Beers came with a paper napkin on top “to clean it off!” We regularly were greeted by vendors and learned a new strategy from a castmate, which is to mess with them. One guy came in wearing a “DAD u da man” t shirt and sold us some bootleg movies. They must do very good business in bootlegs in Honduras, because we were offered DVDs at least 8 times. One guy was also selling “Island music” that he was sure we would love. It was labeled “Islam Misic” and had suggestive women on the cover. We bought 2 for $5. Mine is Islam Misic Vol. 8, and has a non labeled CD on the inside. There is a tiny red stamp on the front that says “Good Work”—the kind of thing a teacher would put on a spelling test—over an aroused, shy woman in a blue dress with the side of her left boob showing. The music is not terrible reggae, featuring a song called “Spread Your Love All Over Me.”

Also, the Hondurans have discovered Sculpy, that play-dough plastic sculping stuff. They have made very good use out of it, particularly in covering old bottles of booze with cartoony animals with googly eyes. If they were under $10, I would own one. Instead, I own a $2 bic pen with a hilarious butterfly. I also got earrings for $2. Everything runs around $5, but you can get them to go down in price pretty easily. I got absurd 1st grade teacher frog earrings for $3. They were originally $5, and the saleslady said “the owner has lots a money, she don’t wanna bargain, but $3, okay. Just put that in your purse.” Which I did.

Other delights were a restaurant advertising “TYPICAL ISLAND FOOD” and the official harbor guards, one wearing a Batman baseball hat from the mid 80’s.

Also, we sat by a delightful couple in that bar who loved our show and we got to chatting. They are VERY disappointed that there are no more pool games. They are VERY disappointed and said “have you been on a Carnival ship? Oh--You’ll have the time of your life. You may not sleep very much but oh, that’s fun. This cruise has been boring. The worst one we’ve ever taken. Oh yeah, we’ve slept a lot but…” They also talked about going to the beach and that they only had $100 bills. A kid in Belize was eyeing them, thinking about trying to sell them a rock. They laughed that “sorry, we don’t have any money, we only have $100s, hahaha.” I watched Goodfellas for the first time, so obviously, I decided they were in the mafia.

Friday, October 24, 2008

Aruba, Weirdoes, Daring to Complain

We are now in Aruba, where I have been told twice by two different cabbies “get a tan” or “you need a tan” so I guess they are very open with their opinions. Also, it is very hot today, and some unlucky crew member is wearing the fur dolphin mascot costume to pose with passengers for photos off the ship. When he thought no one was looking, he was fanning himself by pulling roughly at the front of his fur pelt to fan himself.

Our cruise is very long. 2 weeks. Therefore,we have a ton of extra sea days and therefore need a bunch of extra programming for the passengers. They have had to add things, like a hypnotist and another singer. I am educated about something very central to being an American: the songs “YMCA” (which the acappella group and the new singer both do) and “I Will Survive.” Also, I think all cruise ship performers secretly believe they/we are famous. Another cruise ship performer said the singer was “you know, typical cruise ship performer—adequate.” O.

We had a huge dinner last night at a steak house, where we heard more unfortunate stories about the ship doctors. Apparently they have a very special license which means they are basically not doctors on shore. They may be heating and cooling specialists or casino dealers. A kid broke his arm last week and they didn’t know how to set the bone. A youth counselor got a parasite under her arm, her treatment on board went like this “Oh, you have an abscess from using the water on board. Here take some Vicodin and 2 seconds after you swallow, we will cut under your arm and pull something out. Then we will cut again because it we didn’t get it. Then, don’t worry, we won’t give you stitches or anything. Here, have some more Vicodin and, p.s., bury it in your luggage when you go home or you will get in trouble for drug trafficking.” Her Canadian doctor then hit the roof because it was a parasite and she needed stitches and the only way the parasite was kept at bay was that she had heavy duty antibiotics.

We also heard about the 3 ghosts that live in the Kid’s Center on board the Star. Apparently there is a man with a hat, a 9 year old kid, and a toddler. These are such documented ghosts that the cleaning people refuse to go in there unaccompanied and kids regularly complain. Weird.

I would like to make a tshirt that says “DARE TO COMPLAIN.” There is a lot of daring to complain going on generally. Also, I am further learning that Lots of Entertainers are Hugely Arrogant Weirdoes. All you have to do is live on a ship with them and you will wish you are in high school where weirdoes get beat up. Or where you can say “shutup weirdo.” I say this with full awareness of my own weirdoness. When passengers are fascinated by our jobs, I want to explain how annoying everyone is that we live with and that a big part of your life is seeing the same people once an hour, like it or not. This is probably what everybody feels in their jobs. Yes YES YES YES! I dared to complain! I am the BRAVEST!

The clouds in St. Thomas were gorgeous last night. We had the delightful experience of laying in the hot tub and watching post sunset clouds with a few stars in the sky, and floating around in the perfect temperature salt-water pool with no one else, then eating like King Glutton Pigs with delightful conversation. I got to find out how much people play hockey in Canada. It’s insane. The girls do and their mothers do and one YC said she’s never dated a guy who DIDN’T play hockey and she lived in a place where she drove her snowmobile to school. Fun. Keep talking Weirdo!

US Virgin Islands

We went to the beach in the US Virgin Islands. They have gotten very inventive with their cabs in the USVI. There were 3 cruise ships in port, including Carnival’s “Freedom of the Seas” ship which is the biggest ship on the water, with an insane amount of things on board, like a skating rink and 4,500 passengers or something insane. Instead of normal car cabs, the USVI has modified huge Ford trucks. The one we took seated 17 comfortably. They change the truck bed into 4 rows of padded benches with open sides and a roof and the cabbie makes about $240 round trip. We had a nice cabbie with an underbite who told us there was no way we could go to Megan’s Bay because it was damaged by the hurricaines, so we went to Secret Cove beach. He honked at everyone he knew and casually opened the door in the middle of the street for his daughter/friend/niece who jumped in with fast food and talked on the phone with a crazy thick accent. He was very nice and talked really fast and said “we don’t have a governor. We got a man who collects a check.”

We went to the beach, which had a bar directly behind it featuring a very drunk couple. The gentleman section was in a black speedo and a very bad sunburn. I would kindly call the female section in a bikini “obese” and our favorite moment was when he played a very fast, long, slappy drum solo on her tanning behind. O vacation.

On the way back, an elderly couple from Iowa (if I had to guess) joined us in the cab, both sitting next to the cabbie. They got to talking about the Virgin Islands and were very upset about Obama charging $5 for people to put a sign in their front yard in South Carolina "that is the height of egotism." They said Carnival cruise line is "okay" and said Secret Beach was clearly "not a secret anymore."

Thursday, October 23, 2008

Post Office, Halloween, Captain Beware

We went to St. Thomas, which is a US Virgin Island. I took the time to mail home some books and stuff to lighten the load, so I went into the post office, where 2 of the friendliest postal workers are working. A guy came in and asked about international shipping, they calmly explained that it is basically America in the US Virgin Islands, he then proudly explained that he worked for the postal service for 30 years. Then he left and the woman behind him made fun of him for not knowing a postal fact. This woman then bought one stamp for her postcard. She peeled the back off of the stamp, licked the stamp and made a face. The postal worker said “those are peel-off.” The woman indignantly said “I know” and put it on the postcard and left. This made my week.

We rode the elevator after lounging on the beach. A guy I have seen twice on the ship got in with us. I would describe him as a longshoreman from 1915 who has killed 3 people last month and drinks gasoline 3 times a day and can lift a safe. He had very white little hair on his head, was so tan he looked like stained wood, and was covered in body hair that was all white and wirey. He was covered in very faded blue tattoos. He had a very large booze-nez and was probably about 5’4”. A guy who looked just like him, only with less tattoos and a booze-nez that pointed out more than down, got on the elevator and rode with us for like 3 floors. They didn’t look at each other, even though they looked like brothers. We were talking for a little bit amongst ourselves about “wasn’t that beach beautiful.” He said with a very thick Brooklyn accent “yous are crew.” We said yes, then he said “yeah, I thought so. They don’t pay you very much,” and we said “ah—uh, haha.” He said “they should pay you more. They’re makin’ money over here. You want me to talk to the captain.” We said “haha,” even though he was not smiling. He said “I’ll talk to the captain. I’ll make him an offer he can’t refuse.” So if the captain is dead soon, I will know why.

We had a costume party last night with the dancers. We all got incredibly into it and hung out in the singers’ rooms and the hallway in front of their room. This is how those parties go, I guess, you stand around under fluorescent lights and on singer yells to the other singer “NO SINGING!!!” I had the amazing experience of witnessing someone entering a party and saying “yeah, we weren’t invited” and then continue to hang around the party. Then the host of the party said “get out!” and said person went away and came back. Fascinating. Out of the costumes, there were a lot of things that were “slutty” and a bunch of guys dressed as girls. I think there were 5 pairs of thigh highs. I bought individual pieces which accidentally came together to look like the wife of the magician on board, down to her black-tip fingernails. But in a very unflattering “insane woman, no really, no call the police, no I think she took my wallet” way. Also, I got the Scarecrow brand cartoon teeth, which makes you look like a horse, which is fun, but definitely not slutty. We left after parading through the crewbar for some reason (I think so the crew could lose their minds about the slutty looking people) I met a junior bartender from Grenada by the elevators who was confused and disgusted and described the situation as “I’m already in hell” because there was one guy dressed in a Speedo as Michael Phelps, an insane woman with horse teeth, a guy with a puzzle on his face, and a Julie your Cruise Director, from the Loveboat. Then he said we had too look out for ourselves because “no one cares about you here—no one” so I wonder what month he is on his contract.

Sunday, October 19, 2008

Germans and rocky seas and everyone is a magician

We are now doing the “repo.” I used to think it was pretentious when people said “repo” instead of “repositioning cruise” but now I am brainwashed. The ship goes into dry dock for 3 weeks in Mobile, Alabama, and then resumes it’s 24/7 machine slavery until the next dry dock. It is intelligently packaged as “sail from New York City to New Orleans!!! And go to islands in the middle!” We are going to the Caribbean and a little bit of South America for about 2 weeks. We’ve left the fall and come back to balmy evenings and gorgeous gorgeous gorgeous clouds. We are on board with a bunch of Australians (?) and Germans who are being led by a tour group with t-shirts that say “Albatros.” Maybe this does not mean “albatross” to a German and doesn’t seem like their tour group is called “DisasterTragedy.” Anyway, there are a surprising number of svelte people with tasteful clothes, crazy hair, and geometric glasses.

Last night was the rockiest night so far. The ship was pitching all over the place, so it felt like someone was standing at the head of your mattress and lifting it 2 feet, then went to the bottom of your mattress and lifted it 2 feet, then did the same thing on the sides. Our next door neighbors’ closet doors slammed open and closed every 10 seconds which we could hear pretty clearly. Everybody had booze fall off of shelves, we had a little jar of hair accessories shoot off of a shelf. It is a testament to the carpet and bottles used by Absolut that nothing broke. My roommate lost her mind. Another castmate had a drawer shoot open every 3 minutes. There was a lot of getting up in the middle of the night and becoming McGuyver. There was also a lot of “did a whale just ram our ship?” or “what did we hit??” since things were slamming into the sides. There are barf bags all over the place and I feel slightly queasy and the ship is non-stop creaking. It is moving around like crazy. Apparently the hull is made to be flexible and once upon a time the seas were so bad that some windows shattered from the boat flexing underneath it.

In other news, I discovered that our cruise director is also a magician. That means we have 3 magicians on the ship: the cruise director, the lighting technician, and the actual magician. This is fascinating. Especially because the cruise director never really hangs out with the magician so I wonder if they hate each other. Apparently some ship magician said “whores do tricks, we do illusions” which is pretty great and bizarre.

Saturday, October 18, 2008

Indian Night

Last night, one of the YCs said “how am I ever going to describe this to anyone at home?” This is because it was Indian night.

For no reason and out of the blue, the dance floor and crew bar periodically transforms to an all Indian party. Specifically, all Indian males. I think it is when there is an Indian DJ maybe? At any rate, there are songs that play and all sound the exact same to me, but some of them the guys love, some of them the guys hate. If you are an Indian guy standing around watching the craziness happen on the dance floor, your friend will probably grab you and hurl you into the center of the dudes who are losing their minds dancing and singing along, many of them in uniforms, one of them probably around 6’2” and balding wearing blue coveralls, jumping around and screaming, so out of control with joy that he rubbed his crack on a castmate’s hand that was casually hanging off the table where we were sitting. It is like a Bollywood mosh pit where people can’t stop smiling and there are no women. Sometimes a lady will make her way in the fray for jumping and feet pointing, but it only lasts long enough for us to say “hey there’s a girl” and then you look back the next second and she’s gone and two guys are squatting on the floor together bouncing around. Everyone who is not an Indian male just stands around and shrugs and says “this is crazy” and watches and the guys having the party who all, to put it technically, could not give two shits.

The dance floor is so small you can play one-on-one ping pong comfortably, that’s about it. If you are like over 6’ tall, you can touch the ceiling without jumping.

At the end of the night, security turned the lights on in the crew bar and we got ready to leave. The Indian guys were not ready for curfew, so they started singing a new song in maybe…Urdu? Then in English, the ringleader said “GOODBYE VINJAY AND HAVE FUN ON YOUR VACATION!” and they all seriously and without irony or prompting said “hip hip” “HORRAY!” and “hip hip!” “HORRAY!” and “hip hip” “HORRAY!”

I also talked to a Gurka, which is what the security guards all are. I asked him to have a fight or an exhibition we would watch. This was a great question that I had to repeat like 5 times with different words in different places. I finally got out of him that he will only do his secret martial arts moves in a life threatening situation.

Wednesday, October 15, 2008

Workshops and the romanian hostess

Sam and I got ready to do the workshop today. Meaning we stand in the middle of a bar that looks out over a giant atrium and mill around a little bit. We also take time to gauge what has been going on before we start our little 45-hour talk. Sometimes there has just been a martini tasting. Before we started, a gentleman stood in between Sam and I at the lectern and told us his life story, well into the time we were to start the workshop. As in details like “I found myself in a financial position to retire after 31 years of teaching.” And “you give a kid a math problem with more than two steps and they don’t want to do it! They’re bored! They say ‘forget it’! And you know thank God you don’t have to go to college, you can go make fries, you know!” and “we paid 93 bucks for a tour in Boston and I tell ya, I wouldn’t have paid $9.30 for that tour. We get on a shuttle and I ask the driver does he like the Red Sox and he looks at me like ‘huh?’ Turns out he’s Jamaican! So we have this Jamaican bus driver and the tour guide lady had to GUIDE HIM OUT OF THE PARKING LOT! Then she kept having to TELL HIM WHERE TO TURN! And he got it WRONG! I would have just as soon gotten a cab and spent the day at the aquarium!” and also “well, yesterday we went to the Maritime museum and it was great” He got into the details about individual exhibits and we were 3 minutes late starting and Sam and I started checking the detailed workings of our mics. He FINALLY got the hint. I was impressed by his degree of talking.

We played our DVD with our comments about “haha, here’s a story about Bill Murray” and were charming etc. Then we opened the floor for questions and the car salesman in a Porsche baseball hat monopolized. My favorite question was “we can watch tv in our rooms. How about you do Tina Fey doing Sarah Palin and you do Chris Rock doing Barak Obama.” Sam said, in his brilliance, “actually Chris Rock was never a part of Second City” and smiled and expertly turned it to a plug for our show later. Another question I enjoyed was from two platinum blond ladies in their 50’s, clearly out on the town who sat front and center and walked in late (one had an updo and incredible Lindsay Lohan eyeliner for 5:45 p.m.). One asked: “do you have another DVD?” I think it was a joke. Maybe not. The guy in the Porsche hat was also clearly convinced that we, as a cast, love each other. He wanted to know if we eat meals together, if we go out in port together, if we hang out and tell jokes together, what it was like if someone gets hired who is terrible. We are speaking in public kinda, so I always feel it necessary to smile and lie and give answers people want to hear like “my goal is to be on Saturday Night Live, which I expect to do in one year. Then I will be in 50 movies and you can say you saw me on a cruise ship and always knew I would be famous.” “We never fight.” “Being the member of a paid comedy company is like being awoken and cradled by God every single day.” “I’ve never had more fun in my life.” Then Sam said, “yes, if you get a dud person in your cast it is terrible. We live here for 4 months.” Everybody seemed happier. I did not say “you have to decide to like everyone and work out regularly and realize you are going to suppress your emotions out of a desire to not explode and ruin your life and job, which means you will probably cope via eating and working out, but mainly cookies and long venting emails.” The guy in the Porsche hat said “what are your aspirations!”

We went to eat in the French Restaurant tonight, where my favorite question was “who’s Ian!” “He’s the gay guy who makes the announcements!” And no, he is not gay, he is just English. This same table asked the waiter for “New Zealing wine” soooo. They also gave several toasts.

We walked into the restaurant and the Romanian hostess said “your friends are here!” and we saw one of the singers and her whole family and a dancer and a singer. She asked if we minded sitting next to them or if we wanted to sit somewhere else. She said certain parts of big families will come in and say “if my sister comes in, I want to sit as far away from her as possible.” Then when the sister shows up, other sister will say “oh, I wish you could sit by us! It’s that hostess! Hahaha!”

I saw two classicly LA looking people on the ship. Blonde toned woman, very cute and trendy and LA. Tall tan guy, muscle-y and puffy and some stupid trendy shirt. I mean Melrose-Avenue-dingus-trophy LA which brought up lots of feelings, which makes sense if you are me and living in LA makes you feel like a lesbian minister when you are neither.

Thursday, October 9, 2008

Bingo

A few friends and I had planned to meet in the crew bar last night at 11. If you get down there before 12, you can have a little bit of decent lighting and ambient, pleasant music. After that, a “guest dj” gets control of the stereo and turns the volume up to ear bleed levels and plays the exact same songs I have been hearing for 8 months. Well, last night was crew bingo. Drinks were free at the bar and 3 bingo games were going to happen with prizes of $400, $800, and $2,000. Bingo doesn’t do it for me. The spa girls came down, very dressed up and cute and waiting to be noticed, and said “we’re just here to drink.” The guys were all waiting for bingo.

I talked to a guy from Shore Excursions (although the lingo is: shorex) who is tall and smiles a lot and looks about 8 but is probably close to 40. I asked him if he likes bingo, he made a very disgusted, disappointed face and nodded. “On a Friday night at home, I like to play a quick game of bingo, then go hit the clubs.” He is from Vegas. He said he likes Vegas, but “I’m tired of the strip, I got a house, I’m just used to it. But I’ve lived there for 11 years.” I asked him when he got used to it—year 5? Year 2? He said: “Well…I was drunk for the first 5 years and then I was awake for the next 5 and then… The last year was great.” A YC asked him “which did you prefer--drunk or awake?” He said: “…that last year.” Oh. He’s now got a shorex job, which means he knows all about the tours, although the main part of his job is “sales—it’s all selling.” He said he loves it, although another shorex gentlman, tall, ballerina-ish from St. Lucia and very very gay interrupted and said “Shorex? I hate it. Ugh, I hate it. It’s all sales—I hate it.” The YC asked our shorex guy how he got the job—he’s only been working with ships for the past 2 years. He started in room service (and we about fainted, because he is an American), then moved to casino (which he hated because no one liked him because he was an American and was seen as taking a job away, in his opinion), then moved to shorex. Ships!

Our room steward bought a laptop, a very nice Sony Viao. The salesman told him he had to spent $125 on virus protection software, which he did not get. The salesman said “if you go on the internet without this virus protection, your computer will break” which was very bold and obviously a lie but terrified our room stewards, who spent $800 for 250 GB. Sam and I had fun getting mad at the salesman and insisting he get the freebie instead, although neither of us could remember the name of the freebie. We told him where to get good internet. I should note that crew laptops provide very different pinups. I saw one guy sitting in the corner of a mall in St. John, tucked next to a jewelry kiosk. He did a good job looking serious and frowning at his computer and hunching over it like it was a spreadsheet. The only problem was his back was against the escalator, so everybody coming down the escalator saw that he was meticulously studying the photo of a naked lady/teenager.

Our room steward Raynaldo is an ace ping pong player. He gets laser focus and sweats very hard and gives people a run for their money. One of his opponents got sick the morning after playing ping pong because he played too hard the night before. We asked Ray if he is the best, he shrugged and said “I won seven games.”

The iPhone has descended on our cast and circle of acquaintance. Getting an iPhone instantly makes you deeply boring to people who don’t have one. They are all nerding out to the point of distraction and social death. Like oh, playing a crossword puzzle in the middle of conversation or, oh, playing a virtual slot machine in the middle of conversation or, oh, having conversations about apps like apps are religious relics. And yes, I realize I would be this boring if I got one too. Yes.

Wednesday, October 8, 2008

What is this thing called iPod

They shampooed the carpets, which we learned via sitting on them. Turns out if you are a hotel that works 24/7/365, you can’t do things on the day off.

Some differences between audiences, or rather, jokes by age range.
Masturbation:
Younger New Jersey=this is one of the most hilarious things said in my life
Older Leaf Peepers=I’ve never been more bored.

The line “stop, you’re going to pull something” whilst someone is exerting oneself:
Younger New Jersey=I’ve never been more bored.
Older Leaf Peepers=hahahaha, seriously he is really risking pulling something, do you see how he is bent over? I relate to back pain.

If you ask an assembled group of cruisers this question:
“He’s going to reveal a secret, what it that secret?”
They will say: “HE’S SECRETLY A WOMAN!”
If you say: “He’s going to reveal a secret, like ‘he’s secretly a woman,’ what is that secret?”
They will say: “HE’S GAY!”
They also enjoy: “HE’S A TRANSVESTITE!”
This means two of our actors have been secretly gay and secretly men/women millions of times. Our economic crisis gives us perspective on how annoying this actually is.

If you put a finger on the pulse of our audiences during our shows, the pulse would probably say “I find you boring” or “I am wildly transfixed, which I shall indicate via my silence.” I do not know if oldies relate well to people being socially awkward—maybe they are too old to care or realize worrying is a trivial way to spend your life or maybe regret how alienating their two lazy eyes have been through the course of their lives and don’t think it’s hilarious (this is a line form our song). Maybe our hilarious jokes are making them think.

There are various classes for the passengers, and I heard one today in the announcements which made me laugh out loud. It is the NCL “U” Technology class, in the Clipper Conference Room, Deck 8, Fwd at 2:30 p.m. entitled, and I am copying the punctuation: “What is this thing called iPod.” Yesterday’s class, in the Clipper Conference Room, Deck 8, Fwd at 4:45 p.m. was called “Why should I buy a Computer?” I like the idea that crotchety old people are yelling these questions and then had them answered very fully, because tomorrow’s seminar, at 9:30 a.m. in the Stardust Theater, Decks 7 & 8, Aft, is “Expand your horizons with your Computer.”

Tuesday, October 7, 2008

The Love Boat, Martha's Vineyard

They are showing season one of The Love Boat on the crew channel. We have two channels only for crew, one plays a movie over and over all day, one plays one episode of one tv show over and over all day. This is why we are all addicted to House, which means we are all hypochondriacs and know about LPs and if anyone has any ailment, we think it is necrotic bowel, cancer, or some bizarre allergy we need a team of doctors to figure out. I may have said this already, but I can’t remember, because I can’t remember anything.

Anyway, to watch the Love Boat, which is a Princess ship that ports out of Los Angeles and goes to Mazatlan and Encinadas, is very very hilarious for someone who works on one. I.e., for everyone who is watching it. The crew cabins on the tv show are absurdly giant, bigger than the passenger cabins, the passenger cabins are so monsterous, I’ve never even actually seen one that big. The room steward isn’t constantly working and all of the people are young and hot. Everyone is American and the cruise director takes detailed, sincere interest in the personal lives of people on board. Classico. Classico classico classico. The hallways are giant, and we watch it like this: “no WAY that would happen.” Also, all of the women are tiny and hot and don’t need bras. This week, we have a large group of mentally handicapped adults and a family of people that wear turbans (this is how dead my word recall is). This means, at breakfast I heard a woman say “my back hurts, I mean my back hurts, my back hurts. It hurts. I hurt my back” about 30 times. O Love Boat! O Aaron Spelling! O the genius of marketing!

We went into Martha’s Vineyard again, finally (we are 2-6—they keep canceling it due to bad waves). It was crisp and beautiful and the leaves are turning and it smells like fall. We smelled a wood fire and went on the hunt for beer, because a beer in the afternoon on a crisp day is the reason we have civilization. We tooled around and came across a place that had gold lettering and was by a store called, this is not a joke, “Backdoor Donuts.” There was no one outside, so I thought “meh, let’s go somewhere else.” Then a very cape cod yachtie looking couple grabbed one of our party by the neck and led him into the restaurant. He said “this place is good! The menu is great! You’ll go here!” and his wife said “hahaha.” There were peanuts on the floor, so we entered. Then we went “eh, I don’t know…” but were already sitting down. The guy still held the member of our party by the neck and gave him a speech. The speech ended very positively for us, because it turned out they were the parents of the owner and treated all of us to a round of brewed on premesis amber ale. This was a coup. A delightful, delightful afternoon, with wood oven pizza.

There is some weird fascination in Martha’s Vineyard with Black Dog. There is a black lab in profile wearing a red collar with a kind of like thing on him—a bell? Something? It is all over Martha’s Vineyard. We went into the store fired by Amber Ale, so we didn’t really figure out the deal. Still. There is some kind of a deal.

Thursday, October 2, 2008

Crew Church, "I statue"

They had a large fellowship meeting on the ship tonight. It started at 11:30 p.m. (on a Thursday) and was held with the door open in a conference room, right next to another open-door conference room with a full set of chairs and two people watching Narnia: Prince Capsian on a wheeled-in flat screen. The preacher was an African-American (new york?) guy with dreads down his back. I was completely surprised to find the meeting and a guy pacing back and forth with two guitarists sitting next to him. He was doing a lot of yelling about men “stepping up” and how you have to be a good man or your how can you expect your kids to listen to you. To me, this was pretty boring. But my friend wasn’t at the bar, instead just the piano player playing for about 3 middle aged people seated like 3 rows back from him. So I walked by the fellowship meeting again and saw a surprising number of people, including the party hostesses. At this point, the preacher was yelling about how “I am here to life you up! I am here to give you the language of uplift!” and there is something about saying “ha ha ha give yourself a round of applause” or “ha ha ha WHAT A GREAT SUGGESTION!” that tips me into mental instability—which we did tonight. So I stood by the door and listened for a bit. He then said aloud very hilarious/wonderful things like “in your job! You have to be a servant! You have to smile and say ‘yes’ to some nasty no respecting condescending passenger who bought the cheapest ticket there is to get on here! But you have to say ‘yes’ and smile! Every time you do that! It is written down in the book of life—say it with me” and everyone did and he made them raise their hands a few times. Please remember this is happening off a hallway, with two passengers lazing in a room 6 feet away. They had the movie on to deafening levels, which…maybe the AV guys did on purpose so they could be as loud as they wanted in the other room.

I left because I thought I would get caught. Then the piano player from the man woman lounge act (he plays keyboards and sings, she sings) came out and said “we are having a fellowship! You should join!” But I had a previous engagement to see Detroit Rock City in the Kid’s Center. Where they project movies onto a white tarp that is nailed to the wall and the DVD sound cuts out about once every 10 minutes—not long enough to merit turning it off, just enough for everyone to go “WHY! WHY DOES IT DO THAT!” and then forget that they flipped out.

Today I also learned another aspect of the entertainment industry. That is the term “to statue.” Statue means “stand like a statue in a park.” But you say “I have to statue today” if you are someone who statues, which I met today, to my amazement. She said she can do it for about 2 hours, but the pros can do it for a solid 8, although you have to stretch a lot afterwards. This is fascinating. She also, to her credit and karma, tipped every street performer we came across and is a very happy, sunny little person.

I asked my cronie nouveau to propose to me on a bridge in Boston because Boston is insane and gorgeous. He did, I said no as was preplanned, but upset a kid on the bridge when cronie nouveau did a very dramatic reaction of “how dare you” and etc. as fits a hilarious and dramatic Broadway-ish tenor with great jeans and shoes and a German shirt and madras plaid vest that he felt confused about. One of my favorite stories about him is that he wanted to do ballet very badly as a little boy, and his parents said “NO you will play SOCCER.” He played for one game, and cried the entire way to the game and during the game. My soccer career highlights were picking warts, kicking the ball into our own goal, and doing cartwheels during the (boring) game when I was blocking the goalie. Now, both of us do theater.

Honeymooners, Singers

There is a honeymooning couple on our hallway. I know this because they have a 5”x5” black satin pillow hanging from their doorknob. It is surrounded by white lace and embroidered with tasteful pink lingerie. A tasteful top (jaunty and at a slant) and a pair of undies, with a pink bow and a rhinestone to accent it. On the very bottom of the pillow, it says, in script, “Princess.” I couldn’t usually see what this was because there was always a room service order over it. Now they have added a door hangie thing that says “SHH! We’re on our HONEYMOON!” in pink and black fun sorority girl lettering. They hang it from the shell on their door which seems brave. Each door has a shell with the room number and a little slot where you can put things, like bar bills or notes or “please call reception” or things you got at your bridal shower.

I went to see the a cappella group again, apparently with people but they didn’t show up, so I watched them wearing bright green in a sea of persons of advanced age. The audience again got insulted at the idea that the Clovers (I think) are not considered current music. When I walked in, there were 2 middle aged ladies dancing in the back, then I noticed 4 middle aged ladies dancing off to the side in the little hallway that is between Champagne Charlie’s (the piano bar) and the Duty Free shop. The wild one kept getting into every single song, even the slow ones, dancing and singing along. She quickly learned the words to a song about beer that goes to the tune of “Doe, a deer, a female deer” (dos, equis, a real good beer—or something) (the passengers love it). Generally the passengers love the a cappella guys and I love when they each had an instrument solo. The beatbox guy did a drum solo, the bass guy did a bass solo, then they did one together. Everyone was delighted.

There was a lot of traffic in and out of the venue, as per usual. We did a workshop in that same Champagne Charlie’s a few hours earlier. My favorite part was when a very old lady, hunched over, pushed her walker-with-a-seat through the little alley that naturally happens between presenters and audience. She said “excuse me!” and waved her hand. This is how you can learn not to get to pretentious or even attempt to talk about “artistic process” or anything.

I must also note that there is a hilarious thing that happens all the time on the ship, and that is the blaring of ambiance music. After our workshop, a lady asked us a question right beneath a speaker, which immediately started blaring insane musak. The other fun thing about those workshops is that people frequently ignore them and go on with their drinking and hanging out, which is fine. The only difficult aspect is that some people have naturally loud voices or are maybe trying to talk louder than us, so you sometimes pause and say “was that a question?” and no one reacts. Also, we have a DVD of scenes from Second City with stars in them—some scenes have very poor audio, which is frustrating for people trying to watch. So we skip them. Only problem being we don’t have a remote, so instead passengers see a sped up version of Chris Farley stripping and a sped up version of George Wendt (Cheer’s Norm) and we don’t watch it, which must be torture for a very specific type of person. We do watch a scene with Tina Fey and Rachel Dratch, and another one with Steve Carrell that we all get excited about, the passengers, not so much. They all know SNL and Bill Murray, but 30 Rock or Ms. Fey’s recent Emmy seems very unimportant to them. It should be less important to us, since one of the jokes in a 30 Rock was about how if her career goes in the toilet, she can always teach improv on cruise ships, hahaha, oh well. We have heard a lot of “you know who’s funny? Robin Williams.” type of revelations. So.

I would also like to take this time briefly to describe my cruise director. Every cruise director is fascinating and singular. This one is British and sounds like he is announcing couples skate in a roller rink when he does announcements. He also tells jokes like this, which kills the joke and confuses him and the audience. The best part is that he looks like a beanpole in business clothes with a springy step and an aggressively sensible haircut. He has glasses like mine and in pictures, he looks a little self-conscious. I am fascinated by him.

Intra Ship Transport

Also, a short description of walking somewhere.

The problem with the hallways is that they are about 4 feet wide. So if you are a person on vacation with your friends and you have no reason to hurry, you will probably stroll in these hallways. If you need to get somewhere, and are behind these slow moving hallway corks, your travel time will double. You cannot say “MOVE” and battle past them because they have seen you in a show or will see you in one and the idea is that they like you. Or if you say “MOVE” or “pardon me” they may want to talk to you about the show, which can quintuple your travel time. This is the patience exercise many of us unwillingly practice.

Sometimes we fantasize about life off the ship. Cooking, laying on a couch without surveillance watching, the people in uniforms dream about wearing crappy clothes. My favorite fantasy is “not having to respond like a servant. If someone asks me directions I can say no or be rude or I don’t know.” This is from a youth counselor. There is a marked increase of “good evening ma’am” and “how are you tonight ma’am” in the buffet.

I did have a nice Indian gentleman make me some pasta. This was a highlight.

I shall do this again. Hair.

We have only 3 cruises left, then we are free.

I will be doing another cruise because I want to for pure reasons. Or rather, ever been in debt for a while? Ever had that debt go away? Remember how that feels? Well, it’s not bad. And also, how about a year solid on a boat? What will happen then? How many desserts can one person inhale? Will there ever be enough? Will treadmills ever be remotely fun? Can I finally see the fuel (no)? How many seasons of television can a human consume? What’s the port of Miami like? How is Christmas on a boat/will it result in alcohol poisoning? And of course: What will happen with my hair?

If some guys are upset by the degree that they are interested in sports, I am possibly equally upset by the degree that I find hair interesting. There is an adult woman with Down’s Syndrome on the boat who has a swingie haircut and highlights. Most of the Midwestern women look the same (short, curling-ironed, beige-ie colored). The east coast ladies can be a little more Carmella Soprano or the brunette equivalent. I went into a very vegetarian/vegan/community coffee shop in Halifax that has a dove as part of it’s logo and posters all over the place with lists of like “how to stop global warming!” and “how to build community!” and when I said I wanted a copy of my receipt, I felt guilty. Everything is aggressively recycled. There were two maps of the world on the wall, both of them the special map that is upside down. One on the side wall in the main shop, one on the way to the bathroom. When you use the bathroom, you are forced to stare at a “how to build community” list. I hate being told what to do, even if I agree with what I am being told. I had the same haircut as 3 of the women who worked there.