Jump to content

-Gramps-

Members
 View Profile  See their activity

  • Content Count

    591

  • Joined

  • Last visited

  • Days Won

    8

Blog Entries posted by -Gramps-

  1. -Gramps-

    "Cruising" Day Eight

    By -Gramps-,

    Part VIII Friday: Rain, Rain, Don’t go away.
    We woke up at our usual time, around seven thirty. Our Catamaran swim and snorkel, or snorkel and swim, was not until ten thirty, so we chatted for awhile, about an almost incident from the night before. You have heard the saying that it is a small world. Well the world is small, even on the world’s largest cruise ship.
    Before Dinner, while walking through the Royal Promenade, Diane spotted a woman in a very short and very tight black spandex dress. It barley covered her. From the very top of the leg down it was black chiffon. This dress would not look good on a model and this poor woman was not one of those. Diane said to me “What was she thinking?” Diane added that if she were to make a list of the ten worst dressed people on the cruise, this person would be at the top. Less than five minutes later we saw another woman with the same type figure wearing the exact same dress. Diane was shocked. To see it once was bad enough, but the same bad dress on two women was inconceivable.
    Needless to say, inappropriate dress became a very interesting dinner conversation thread that evening, just as it is here on the boards.
    Now we jump ahead to eleven thirty and the late night comedy show in La Scala. Diane and I went in a little late, after the lights had started to dim. We sat down, along with some other people, and I leaned to my right to make some not so quiet witty remark about the woman in the bad dress when out of the corner of my blind left eye I caught a glimpse of a large leg completely exposed except for black chiffon. The woman (one of them) was sitting beside me. I almost swallowed my tongue. I came so close to embarrassing myself and her. The woman must have seen a not so normal look on my face because she asked me if I was okay. I said I just needed some water and motioned for a waiter. At that moment the show began, thank God. I then whispered to Diane that she would not believe who was sitting beside me. I told her and she started laughing. Good thing we were at a comedy show.
    We finished reminiscing; some time later got up, put on our swim stuff and headed out the door to the Windjammer. This was a day that we had looked forward to for a while; it had been fifteen years since we last visited Cozumel. We grabbed our normal fare and sat down to watch the ship come into port. Behind us was the Carnival ship Elation with her distinctive whale fluke stack. Off in the distance was the Grand Princess. That ship has a profile that reminded me of something familiar, but I could not place it. Then it hit me…it looks like a giant shopping cart.
    We tied up at the pier alongside the Rhapsody of the Seas. This should be a fun day.
    After breakfast we stopped at our cabin to grab all our gear, hats, camera, towels, etc. Then down to deck 1, disembark and head to the green catamaran docked just behind Rhapsody of the Seas. We walked between the two beautiful huge ships went on board the catamaran and grabbed a couple of seats aft. We were joined by a rather animated and very cute couple from Tampa. Dondi and Joe, had gotten married just the Saturday before. The catamaran sailed around the ships on its way to where ever it was going. It was quite a sight to see four cruise ships docked together.
    The sails went up (for show there was no wind) and we were given the safety lecture and soon we were anchored about fifty feet off shore. Diane and I hit the water pretty quick, I jumped off the side, and she took the steps.
    The water was great, temperature just right, the sun behind a cloud so it was a little dark but not bad. Diane and I floated around very relaxed, holding hands with our free hands resting on our backs. We listened to the parrot fish chewing up the coral, a kind of crackling noise, and watched the tangs swim around. The sea fans waved to us as we kicked slowly by. Diane and I said about two words for the whole hour. We communicated by pointing and nudging each other. It was probably the best snorkeling time we have had yet. The hour went by quickly and we were the last two out of the water.
    The boat set sail and next stopped at a little private beach with kayaks, volley ball and floaters. There was also a snack bar that served very good hamburgers, at least they smelled good, I only cash for tips. Next to the snack bar was a lean to selling Mexican Silver jewelry and such. Diane and I kayaked around for awhile; she collected shells while I played a round of volleyball. Soon it was time to leave.
    I sat down, pulled off my hat to put my camera on, sat the hat down on the bench and then everyone had to move forward in order to get the rear of the boat off the sand in order to back out to deeper water. Before I could get back to my seat the boat took off and away went my hat. The hat said Time Life photographer on it and was my favorite. It was an exact replacement for one that blew off my head while deep sea fishing in Diego Garcia. Oh well. I hope I can find another one like it but I doubt I will be successful.
    We partied on the way back. The captain said that there is a rule on his boat, no one is allowed to go without a drink. He was serving weak Margaritas and local beer. The music started, the dancing began and soon we were all doing the electric slide on a moving deck after drinking booze. It was something new for me and fun too. Diane and I do a mean slide. The conga line started after that with the grab and pour stop, Margarita mix for the adults and Sprite for the few kids that were on board. The captain would grab someone start squirting the proper mix down the person’s throat with everyone else yelling Go! Go! Go! I bailed out of the line before he could get to me.
    Once again we sailed around the ships, docked, and that was the end of our morning’s journey. A half a day still lay ahead of us. We decided to shower, change, grab lunch and shop at the duty free shops located in a mall just at the end of the dock. That is just what we did. On the way to the shops we passed a security officer pushing a young lady in a wheel chair back to one of the ships. She had her head tossed back and her eyes closed. She must have unconsciously left Senor Frogs.
    The shops were nice. We bought a good hand made leather wallet for Christine, some good tees for Joel and Mark, and a hat to replace the one I lost. It was navy blue with a red strip around the bill and two on the crown and said CoZuMel on it. Not bad. If I wore cowboy boots, I would have bought a pair at a little shop. The boots were the most supple and best looking that I have ever seen and I have been to lots of shops in the southwest. They cost about 300 dollars a pair and worth it.
    The mall was very hot. We shopped while I melted. We finally walked into a jewelry store that was air conditioned and I just stood in front of the wall mounted unit and let the sweat freeze on me. I cooled off enough to look around and saw some nice rings. I had bought a ring during our first trip to Cozumel, another one would not be bad. I tried it on one and it stuck. I told the clerk that I think it is stuck; he pulled out a bottle of Windex and sprayed my finger (I wonder if he saw My Big Fat Greek Wedding). I was then able to slide it off. It was a handsome silver ring with an oval turquoise stone. The stone had fine veins running through it. I knew it was the right size so I bought it. Diane picked up a few things and we left for the ship.
    When we reached our cabin it was close to five and time to dress for dinner. I put on a pullover collarless black short sleeved knit shirt with a Liz Claiborne gray checked suit, black tasseled loafers. Diane put on her hand colored blue and yellow silk outfit (See Part IV) with gold sandals. I put two battery powered lights in my pocket. These lights have a lanyard that goes around the neck and the lights strobe green, yellow, red. My brother in law got them from some MTV premier. I thought they might be fun later.
    We went to dinner, the Chef’s Dinner as a matter of fact. All were at the table tonight including the Tennessee newlyweds. It was lobster night. Everyone was in a great mood. All had a good time ashore. Wanich was his cheerful self, pulled out our chairs and then asked Diane and me what bottle of wine we desired, another Asti, I said. Hey, I like the stuff. We both, along with Mike, ordered the Escargots and the lobster. Betty said she doesn’t like rock lobster only Maine. I don’t believe in questioning a gift lobster’s ancestry. After eating the garlicky, buttery, sinful Escargots we all told Wanich to hit us again. That was just the appetizer for the appetizer. It was just as good the second time, give me some bread so I can get every last drop.
    Then our main course arrived. The tails were small but tender and oh so tasty. I took one bite and announced that I would like to challenge all to the first and hopefully annual lobster tail eating contest. The guys all said you’re on, we accept the challenge. Let the contest begin. Diane had two. I had four. I would have kept going but we had to be at La Scala by seven thirty to see Rain. There was only one show and it was expected to be packed. I had to have dessert as well. So four tails would have to be it. Too bad.
    After a pit stop we went to the theatre which was already filling up. Our friends from Tennessee were with us and we tried to find seats without obstructed views. Jeffrey said a few words and then introduced the group. I do not know what you have heard about Rain, and their tribute to the Beatles. Let me tell you this: They were absolutely great. They had the Beatles accents, both singing and speaking down to a man. I had to remind myself that they were not the Beatles. On the first song the crowd went wild. Everyone was on their feet, arms waving, shouting. The kids in the crowd must have thought their parents were insane. We were. The group would do sets and then leave stage and come back dressed as the Beatles in a later period like the Sergeant Pepper era. They performed about fifteen or twenty songs. It was a very fast hour. After the last song everyone screamed for them to return. They came back and did Hey Jude and Revolution, the place rocked and then it was over. Second seating dinner started late.
    Do not miss this group.
    I am not sure what we did for the next hour or so. Maybe we went to the photo shop and looked for pictures. Maybe we sat in the Pig and Whistle.
    Maybe I checked our E-mail for the only time during the trip. I think we went all over the place, there was something going on about everywhere. I just don’t remember. Around eleven thirty or a little earlier we went to Studio B for the Rockin’ thru the Ages Dance Party. I hung a light around Diane’s neck and around mine, turned them on and we hit the floor. It was a fun hour. They had a jitterbug contest, where the wrong couple won. A young German couple (newlyweds) was great and we formed a circle around them to watch them dance, but the judges did not seem to notice. They must have been blind. Diane and I were noticed by the cameraman but I don’t know why. The dance officially ended around twelve fifteen, the band left but the music kept playing so many of us danced until we were chased out.
    Diane and I then visited the Vault for longer than normal; our flashing lights were a hit. We stayed until about one and then called it a night after a trip to the Promenade Café for a chocolate something and a canolle. We returned to cabin 1234 and found a monkey swinging from the ceiling. Somehow that seemed the appropriate ending to a fun day.
    Derrick
  2. -Gramps-

    "Cruising" Day Five

    By -Gramps-,

    Part V Tuesday and Labadee is over there.
    Another morning of delight began, another morning with no alarm clocks, no Katie Couric, no disturbing pager calls. Today is going to be a great day; a day of nothing to do and happy to do it. I awoke slowly, very slowly, and took a look out the open balcony door. I could see the village of Labadee.
    The resort area was on the other side of the ship.
    I slipped on my robe and stepped out on the balcony. It was already very hot. I looked down at the blue-green water and immediately noticed large jellyfish swimming by the dozens, ghostly white beach umbrellas opening and closing. I was seeing these creatures from deck 10, they had to be really huge, not something that I wanted to meet at eye level. This was not swimming with the sting rays. The bay’s salt content must be down due to a lot of rain water pouring into the bay from the mountains. We could thank Hurricane Kyle for providing optimum conditions for these unpleasant creatures. However, the heat and the jellyfish were not going to be a problem for us, Diane and I had no plans to leave the ship. Unless you were kayaking (we did that the year before) or wave running (book them before the cruise) Labadee was a day of lying by the sea. Reclining around the Solarium pool with a good book and a good woman seemed a much better plan to me.
    I stepped back in, leaned down on the bed and ran my hand slowly down Diane’s bare back. After thirty years the touch of her skin still causes my fingers to tingle. She rolled over and smiled.
    We were ready for breakfast, a brisk walk and then lounging around the pool with a great selection of chairs. Diane put on her swimsuit and cover-up; I put on my Speedos, (Remember? They are big red shorts) a Del Sol T-shirt and sneakers. We retrieved our sunglasses from the swans. We ran the stairs up one deck and aft to the Windjammer. No line, this IS a great day. We sat there eating our eggs, smoked salmon, melon, and sausage as the wave runners zipped around the ship sounding like a herd of wet weed whackers.
    They did look like fun. Off in the distance, I could see the parasail and the blue, green and orange kayaks. This was a most pleasant sight. We took our time sipping our water and nibbling on a second helping of cantaloupe.
    Off to deck 4, of course, for our morning constitutional. We had the urge to put on some speed this morning. I tended to get ahead of Diane so I would circle the helipad until she caught up. The section of deck around the dining room was closed for cleaning so we had to detour through the auto sliding doors past La Scala. If I hit the sensor just right and made a circle, we could slip through without breaking our pace. It looked weird but it worked. And the icy blast of air felt great.
    We were flying, around the deck, up the stairs, down the stairs, through the doors, around the port side, and…what is that awful smell?
    “Diane do you smell that or is it just me?”
    “It is you” she replied. I sat myself up for that corn toss. But there was a bad smell coming from a large blowing vent on the port side. I am guessing that it was the exhaust port for the garbage incinerator. We never noticed the smell at any other time. The source is still a mystery.
    We finished our walk; we worked up a good sweat which should make the cool pool feel great. We headed topside with a stop to pick up towels, (the note said to return them or be charged twenty dollars, this prevents people from leaving them on the chairs I betcha) and we grabbed sun screen, and books. The Solarium had about five people there when we arrived. The hardest decision of the daytime now faced us. Where do we sit? There? No. Over there? No. Here? Okay. Weary from decision making, we stripped to our swimsuits and I started to sit down when Diane said:
    “I am going to the spa at the party pool, this one is closed.”
    Get in hot water? Okay. We walked to the main pool area and entered a spa. We had it to ourselves just long enough for me to figure out the controls and get the jets moving when another couple entered the pool. We chatted with them and found out the lady could not tolerate a lot of sun, and they also noticed the jellyfish. They were enjoying the cruise; she had been in The Spa the day before and received the seaweed wrap, which she found to be wonderful, and afterwards bought 600 dollars worth of stuff. I could tell by the look on her husband’s face that he did not find that so wonderful.
    We sat in the soup for about fifteen minutes and then went back to the Solarium pool. Without hesitation, I dove in. The water felt great, we splashed each other for awhile and then hit the chairs and did nothing until lunch time. Well, not exactly nothing. I did a lot of thinking. I reflected on the last year, all the emotional, mental, and physical pain that Diane and I had to share. The main reason for this Cruise was to have healing moments like this one.
    I was reading an inspirational book titled “God’s Psychiatry”:
    One of the finest ways to relieve tension in your life is to picture still water clearly in your mind. Maybe a little lake nestling among some pines. Maybe a tiny, cool spring on some hillside. Maybe a calm sea with gentle rippling waves.
    After the picture becomes clear, then start repeating and believing, “He leadeth me beside the still waters.” Such an experience produces a marvelous surrender and trust that enables one to face the heat of the day confidently, knowing there is refreshing and relaxed power awaiting under the leadership of one wiser than we.
    I did not have to imagine a still sea, I was on one.
    I must have slept some, because the next thing I knew it was after one.
    Diane, not wearing a watch but in tuned to her internal clock, informed me it was time to eat, so we were off to the Windjammer. It was closed. If you wanted a big lunch you best be on the Island or in the dining room. Wait! How about Johnny Rockets? That would be different. Up another deck and we were there.
    I liked the place; it reminded me of the Silver Diner. Good food and good music. We ordered the chicken club on wheat and one strawberry milkshake to share. The shake was so thick I thought I was going to pass out trying to suck it through my straw.
    After lunch, back to the pool. At about three the Solarium started to fill up with people, I am not sure why. Some time after the Ship’s horn blew we were pretty sun soaked so we headed down to the cabin. Once there we took our time showering, and we were both on the balcony when the ship started sailing a bit late for Jamaica. I snapped a few pics.
    We lounged around the cabin reading and after five we started getting dressed for dinner. Diane put on a long form fitting purple dress with a red and purple scarf around her shoulders; I put on a Jones New York gray plaid suit with an iridescent purple-blue shirt and a color coordinated J.Garcia tie. I put a silver pocket watch in my right pants pocket. I also put something special in my inside coat pocket.
    We left with a little time on our hands, so we moseyed around the shops and had a couple more pictures taken, which we did not buy, and went to dinner.
    We may have gone down to the photo area and played “who can find the picture of us first game.” I always loose.
    Tonight was Venetian night, and I looked forward to it, just like all the nights. We sat down and noticed that the younger newlyweds were not present. Wanich, who always addressed us by our first names, gave us a cheerful greeting and made his recommendations. We ordered a bottle of red wine, Mondavi, I think. I don’t like red, but I liked this one. I ordered the tomato salad, roasted garlic soup, and went for the steak again. Diane ordered a lamb dish as her main course.
    Everyone went to Labadee except us. Mike and Betty said they wished they had not. Due to the extreme heat they decided to return. They spent more time waiting to board a tender than on the island itself. I commented on how quiet it was around the pool.
    Dessert was great as usual and all of us left a little earlier than usual because we wanted to attend the Crown and Anchor welcome back reception.
    The reception was in Cleopatra’s Needle and there were free drinks and chocolate covered strawberries and such. Captain Olsen made a speech and recognized the couple that had made the most cruises with RCCL, one hundred and eleven, and awarded them a big bottle of champagne. Lynn made her Crown and Anchor pitch again. I considered that to be unnecessary since all present were already members.
    The floor was then opened to questions for the captain; any kind of question.
    I thought this should be interesting. It went something like this.
    Q. How do you spend time with your wife?
    A. How do you spend time with your wife?
    Q. How much money do you make?
    A. Not much but we have great vacations.
    Q. How many miles to the gallon does the ship get?
    A. It doesn’t, it gets 55 feet to the gallon of fuel.
    Q. How did you meet your wife from Kentucky?
    A. I meet her on a cruise ship.
    You get the drift, really intelligent questions. From behind me a women jumped up and yelled Tor! And then asked something in what was obviously Norwegian. I looked around and it was the windmill lady. The Captain looked perturbed at the question and answered in English. “No, I have no plans to visit (somewhere) when I return to Norway and that was not my mother asking.” The woman let out this huge and I mean huge laugh.
    And that was the end of that. Do not address the Captain by his first name even if you are from the same country.
    It was now time to see Two Funny Guys, I first excused myself to the men’s room but that is not where I went.
    I walked back to our seats and took Diane’s hand and we went down to deck 3 and sat very close to the stage. We were now in the most crowded section, so I looked longingly at a couple of empty seats in the mezzanine. We did not move. The Two Funny Guys were funny. They came on after Jeffrey made his very funny comments about the Hey Mon, smoke sellers in Jamaica. The Two Funny Guys interacted with the audience, yelled at them for being late, that sort of thing.
    After the show it was back to Cleopatra’s Needle for the big Karaoke semi finale competition. We sat down up front right next to the dance floor. The singing started. Diane picked up a song list and started browsing through it while I sat there with my right leg bouncing a mile a minute. I was thirsty and needed some bottled water. I took my coat off, and then I put it back on, and then took it back off. Diane said “are you okay?” Just thirsty. “We can go to the promenade and get some water and come right back” No, I don’t want to leave. A few people sang, some good, most bad. After the fifth or sixth person sang, the hostess, Michele I think, asked if Derrick is here. I stood up and walked to the microphone in front of the video prompter. Diane looked shocked. She knew I had no interest in singing a Karaoke song.
    Michele then said for me to tell the audience (the place was packed) my name, where I was from, and what I was doing.
    “Hello, my name is Derrick, I’m from Portsmouth Va. (a big cheer came up from my right) and I am celebrating my 30th anniversary. I would like to sing this song to my wife Diane who is sitting over there”. I pointed to her where she was sitting with her shoes off and her feet up on the chair in front of her.
    I then stepped away from the monitor and moved toward her. A big cheer went up. The music started, it was not a Karaoke song, it was music that I had brought myself, a very slow but jazzy ballad called “I Just Never Say It Enough”, by Wayne Watson.
    I sang to Diane. I looked her in the eyes and never looked away.
    If I called you every time that I think of you, the phone would be ringing all day. I keep thinking these feelings will mellow with time but not yet, no way. We’ve had our share of heartache and trouble, we can look back and laugh at it now, but a mystery keeps haunting me, how we hurt those we love most somehow, somehow.
    A real love expression is long overdue, so hear my confession of my love for you-I just never say it enough and before it’s too late and time’s up; you’re more than all I dreamed you’d be, an answered prayer, a gift of God above. But I just never say it enough.
    I believe God inhabits the human heart. I believe it more now than ever before and I see His reflection in You, in You and I’m sure, yes I’m sure that a real love expression is long overdue, so hear my confession of my love for you- I just never say it enough…so before it’s too late and time’s up, you’re more than all I dreamed you’d be an answered prayer, a gift of God above.
    But I just never say it enough. I just never say it; I just never say it enough. Nooo, I just never say it, I just never say it enough. Noooo… oh…. oh.
    I finished the song, I have sung before at my Church, but never in front of a crowd quite this happy. The all came to their feet and cheered, and it was loud. I put the mike back on the stand, took a little bow and ran over and kissed Diane.
    Michele then told the audience that I was not part of the competition; I just wanted to sing something special for my wife.
    Sometime later a gentleman with a large group won the competition with his great rendition of “Proud to be an American”. We all cheered for him.
    He was good, but not as good as me. That was Diane’s opinion, not mine.
    Karaoke ended and many people came over to congratulate us, including the right side people, who were there from Virginia Beach, thus the reason for the cheer. The man who won said “you had us all crying over here”.
    An hour or so later, after a walk and a snack, and a trip to the Vault that did not last long, we went to our cabin and found a cute towel dog sitting on the bed.
    I knew it was going to be a good day. It turned out better than planned.
    Derrick
  3. -Gramps-

    "Cruising" Day Four

    By -Gramps-,

    Part IV Monday: Day at Sea, Black, White and Red Evening.
    We woke before the dawn. The balcony door was open with a gentle breeze blowing the sheers across the bed. (A bed without a dog sleeping at our feet)
    I kissed Diane on the forehead and whispered “Happy Anniversary” she dittoed sleepily. Without another word between us we jumped out of bed, threw on shorts, shirts, shoes, grabbed a camera and headed out the cabin door. Dawn waits for no man or cute Greek girl. In just a couple of minutes we found ourselves on the Peek a Boo bridge on deck 11, best place to catch the sunrise and breakfast. It was a pastel sunrise, very peaceful. I took a few pictures, watched a cargo vessel in the distance. It was interesting to view the monitors and instruments in the bridge. Diane had brought her Bible for a little reading and meditation, I took the time to practice my Tai-Chi and pray as well.
    Soon Diane announced that it is now time to eat. This morning was a dining room morning, after a quick clean up.
    By nine we were sitting in the Carmen Dining Room, deck 3, which provided us with our first real look at the dining room as a whole. In the morning light I found it to be beautiful and elegant, very much like the dining rooms on cruise ships from the 1930’s. (I’ve seen pictures) Our waiter seated us with three nice ladies from upstate New York and a young couple from Italy, possibly.
    We ordered fruit, Eggs Benedict and hot tea for me. When Eggs Benedict are cooked properly, the whites are completely solid, the yellows warm. When my order came it was perfect. We talked with our tablemates for a while (primary subject matter). All of us had stories to tell. Diane’s wet luggage story impressed everyone.
    But you don’t know that story do you?
    It was our third cruise and our first with Royal Caribbean. It was on the Enchantment of the Seas in 1998. We flew Delta airlines into Miami one night early and stayed at the Hyatt, I think, the hotel with George Hamilton’s Restaurant. RCCL told us just to pack overnight bags along with our luggage. We take the overnights to the hotel and the rest would be stored at the airport and delivered to the ship next day. Diane was not so sure about this. We arrived at the airport with our carryons and did not see the rest of our baggage at all. We checked into the hotel and then hung around Bayside all day and into the evening. On the way back to the hotel we just missed the beginning of a huge thunderstorm. It poured for hours along with giant bolts of lightning. We watched from our balcony, it was some show.
    Next morning we were shuttled to the ship along with a lot of other people.
    When our baggage arrived in our cabin, Diane opened her bag containing all her evening clothes and to her dismay discovered them to be soaking wet. All the colors had bled from one dress to the other. She now owned a large assortment of tie-dyed evening wear. We took our shocked expressions to the purser’s desk and they dispatched the head housekeeper to our cabin on the double. They tried dry cleaning the dry cleanables and washing the washables, and when that did not work, they cleaned them again. We heard lots and lots of very sincere apologies. The ship staff did all that they could do but they were able to save only one pants suit out of six outfits. Diane would have to go to the Captain’s gala tie dyed or not all. She started to cry; I went to the sports bar and started to drink. She did finally come up with something she could wear (good thing, or my bar tab would have been huge) until the first stop in St Marteen. There she bought some very expensive hand colored silk clothes, no dresses, which she still wears even now. RCCL picked up the tab, eventually. They also gave us a big fruit basket and complimentary Cappuccinos every night at dinner. (Our waiter Barak felt very sorry for Diane and treated her very well.) The only thing that I can say is that we are still Crown and Anchor members.
    Enough about that, we finished breakfast to a chorus of you poor dears, said good bye and headed back to deck 4 for our morning walk. On the way I made a pit stop in the men’s room outside the dining room.
    The men’s room was in bad shape. I was quite surprised to find it so at ten in the morning. The floor was wet, the toilets not flushed and the room smelled badly. I had not encountered this problem on any other ship. I am happy to say that I made it a point to check the same room the next morning and found it to be in ship shape condition.
    Now, Diane says that I am not supposed to tell you about deck 4. It is a much better place to walk than the track up top. It is very wide and goes all the way around the ship, except forward and then you take stairs up to deck 5 and the helipad, loop around it and take stairs back down to 4 and continue aft on narrow wood decking that loops around the dining room. The ship’s crew uses deck 4 to get around and the four shuffleboard courts are all located on deck 4. Rarely did we see more than four or five people there.
    We walked hard for about forty minutes and then I challenged Diane to shuffleboard. We played a mean six games (we slam em!) she won three, I won three.
    At eleven we went to a Zone class in the fitness center. This is a subject that Diane knows a lot about. She researches it constantly on the internet. Together we have lost about fifty pounds while on the Zone plan. We plopped down on a couple of Reebok steps in front of Jo’s chart. She was pretty good and knew her stuff. Diane did not agree with her on food portion sizes but that was about it. We talked with her after the class and Diane signed us up for a session using their electronic body fat analyzer. I was not sure about that, but she was curious and wanted to try it. Our hook up time would be before breakfast on Wednesday.
    It was now lunch time. How can you get nothing done when you have to stop and eat all the time? That’s what I want to know. We headed for the dining room on deck 3. We did not rush, I enjoy the art located throughout the ship and wanted to browse a bit. The art forward included a lot of photographs and marble relief works. Very nice indeed.
    We strolled into the dining room and were escorted to seats at a large table. Soon we were joined by a party of ladies from the pool, one hopped into a pair of shorts to cover up before she sat down. Our waiter started with Diane and me and continued around the table. I broke from the Zone and ordered Lasagna. Diane ordered Spinach Torte. Yum. I noticed that the ladies all had a common accent and once they ordered and our appetizers arrived, I asked them what part of England they were from. Every lady looked up and glared at me like I had just sprouted a second head.
    “We are NOT English, we are from IRELAND”
    I had just committed a very large faux pas. It was on the par with someone from Georgia calling me a Yankee or someone asking my wife if her family is from Turkey. Bad, very bad. One of the ladies said to me “You have just made a large faux pas.” I apologized and asked them not to judge all Americans by me. I then said that I have Irish ancestry on both sides of my family and Diane has some on her mother’s side. They were most tolerant.
    So I rephrased my earlier question and asked them what part of Ireland they were from. All were from County Kerry. I had heard of that and asked some questions about their famous home. At some point I asked them if it would have been acceptable to ask them what part of the British Isles they were from. I found out that would have been and even bigger faux pas.
    Our waiter, from India, who noticed their accents, but obviously missed most of the conversation, asked them what part of Scotland they were from. I told him that he and I were both in the same kind of trouble. “They are from Ireland” I said. He responded that all English (not American) sounds the same to him, accents are difficult to distinguish. They did not agree that Irish and Scottish accents are indistinguishable. I told him that a Scottish accent is more guttural and an Irish accent is lyrical.
    One of the ladies said to me “You are now completely forgiven”.
    Good, I had a feeling I would be seeing more of them. I enjoyed their company, and I wanted them to enjoy mine. On this day the food and the conversation were very good.
    We ate dessert, chocolate something, and then went back to the cabin to chill for awhile before the Cruise Critic reception at three thirty in High Notes. The invitation had been left in the room number plaque the day before. Diane decided that because dress was formal tonight she was going to get an early start. She hit the shower. I showed her how to use the red button to make the water hotter.
    I wanted to sit on the balcony and read. I finished “The Lovely Bones” while waiting to board the day before and now was reading “Cold Mountain” a very good Civil War novel set in the mountains of North Carolina. I read with the gentle sound of the ship’s wake keeping me company.
    They sat together quietly for a minute, the only sounds the snap of beans and the hiss of Sally pulling thread through them with a needle and, from inside the house, the mantle clock ticking with the sound of a knuckle knocking on a box. Esco and Sally worked together comfortably, hands sometimes touching as they simultaneously reached in the bean basket. They were both quiet and slow in their movements, gentle toward each other, and they touched each pod as if it were a thing requiring great tenderness. Though not a childless couple, they had retained an air of romance to their marriage as the barren often do. They seemed never to have quite brought their courting to a close.
    I hoped that Diane and I would be like that. I want it to seem that we have never quite brought our courting to a close. My thoughts were pleasantly interrupted by Diane telling me it was my turn in the shower.
    The shower stall is small, with the drain in the side, not the floor, where you would be constantly standing on it blocking the flow of water. If the shower stall drain were to be blocked water would end up in the cabin, especially on smaller ships that have more movement. I liked the way the shower head slid up and down a rod at the push of a button. The attention to detail impressed me. The sliding round doors were certainly better to lean against than a curtain. I have heard of people falling out of the shower booth during rough weather, on much smaller ships.
    We put on fresh shorts and such and began the climb up the stairs to the High Notes Lounge on deck 14. Once again, I admired the artwork on the way up.
    We walked into High Notes, where I found the layout of the place to be a little illogical, when compared to Dizzy’s on the Explorer. There were a few people sitting. I made a nametag for Diane and myself and then started to sit down when I was told the seats were saved. We then had to move to the upper level to find seats. We sat down near a gentleman with the name Michael, who recognized my name and introduced himself as Buspilot. I had seen him on the Cruise Critic boards a few times. Soon we were joined by Irish Eyes, and her brand new husband. We chatted with Patti and Gordon for awhile, about the primary subject, ordered mineral water, which we had to pay for, and enjoyed a couple of canapés. A ship staff member, who is also a member of CC introduced himself, said a few words and then the ship’s Loyalty Ambassador, Lynn explained the Crown and Anchor Society to everyone, told us we could book a future cruise while on this one and then receive shipboard credits, etc.
    And that is when I found out we were missing a C&A complimentary wine tasting happening simultaneously.
    A minute or two more and the party was over, everyone got out of there quick.
    Diane let it be known that she would have much preferred the wine tasting or the pool to this party where whiskey sours were free and water had to be paid for. She was disappointed. I knew she would get over it. Tonight is Formal night.
    We went back to our cabin and changed into our formal wear. We enjoy the first formal night more than any other on the ship. Tuxedo and gown are required. Maybe it has something to do with the fact that we fell in love during our first date which happened to be our high school Senior Prom. We fell in love then, we just did not realize it for a few months.
    I put on my S&K Pavarotti tux with the brocade cummerbund and bow tie that I purchased in an antique store. It has a watch pocket, in which I put a nice gold pocket watch with chain that I bought at Wal-Mart. Diane wore a strapless black dress open in the front with an inner white dress that has horizontal white stripes. (Picture will be posted later) She looks like a million bucks in that dress. By five we were on deck 5 in front of Cleopatra’s Needle in time for the Captain’s reception. We stood in line to have our picture taken with the captain, a picture that looked good that we forgot to purchase. I was surprised at how young the captain appeared to be. I found him to be very outgoing and personable.
    We stayed in the lounge long enough for a drink of champagne and a few dances. The floor was rather crowed and there was one couple in unusual native dress, it looked Austrian or Dutch or something, very noticeable especially since they were waltzing like mad around the floor their hands out like a one bladed windmill. I made sure to steer Diane out of their way.
    We left to promenade down the promenade, got in line for one of the backdrop pictures, and strolled back up the promenade after the flash. We were just in front of the jewelry shop when I saw something that jogged my memory. Diane saw something that got her attention and moved away so I took the opportunity to jump into the shop. I looked for a staff member. A tall man with a full beard and no name tag asked me if he could help. I told him I needed to buy a dozen roses like the ones on display outside and I needed them in a big hurry, to be delivered to table 518 in time for main seating. He picked up the phone and called the florist. He explained to someone what I wanted, asked for my cabin number, I told him 1234, he said “you’re kidding” and then asked for my Sea Pass. “You will take the flowers out there?” I said sure, they look great. “Okay, I am actually a guest on the ship with you, but I will deliver them myself.” I didn’t know how a guest could handle this so well, but who was I to question an obviously gifted man?
    I caught up with Diane before she missed me for too long and we claimed a spot in which to see the Captain appear on the bridge over the Promenade and make his welcome speech and introduction of his staff. Fifteen minutes later I was walking through the dining Room with Diane on my arm. Our table was full tonight. In the middle of the table was a beautiful arrangement of a dozen red roses in a cobalt blue vase. We sat down in the middle of the table and I asked Diane if it would be all right to move her flowers. Her chin dropped, and then she smiled and said okay. Our table mates, now that they knew who the flowers were for, asked what the occasion was. “Our 30th Anniversary” I told them. We received many congratulations and Wanich moved the flowers to his counter.
    Our new tablemates included two newlywed couples. Newlyweds Mary and Quinn were from New York City. The other two couples were from Tennessee. They would discovery that they lived within a half hour of each other. One couple was celebrating their tenth anniversary and it was their first cruise. He owned a tile and home improvement business and was in awe of the workmanship on the ship. He could not believe how beautiful and expensive it all was. The other newlywed couple looked to be in their twenties. I did not get to know them because they did not come back to the main dining room again until the last night of the cruise. The three oldest men wore Tuxes, the two youngest wore sports coats. Quinn wore a great looking Tuxedo with a double breasted black vest.
    I made it a point to tell Quinn and Mike that they looked sharp.
    Dinner was fun. Lots of cross conversations and jokes and cruise comments of course. Inquires about what every ones’ plans for the week were etc. Most all had the filet mignon. I found it to be a little bland after my Wyndham steak but it was still good. I had a lobster bisque soup that was very good. Diane and I ordered the Soufflé with liqueur for dessert. Sometime towards the end of the meal, the wait staff serenaded us with a happy anniversary song and presented us with a yellow cream cake. That would be consumed later that night along with a half bottle of Chateau Michelle Riesling.
    We broke up just before eight thirty. Quinn and Mary paired up with Diane and me for most of the evening. I found out that Quinn worked for a specialized trucking firm that hauled very sensitive and or very heavy items like missiles, tanks, the Hubble telescope and spent nuclear fuel.
    We attended the evening’s show together. Jeffrey was again very funny. I found Dreamscape, a multimedia production, to be very entertaining. Some of the flying sequences were almost ethereal. The dramatic and acrobatic finale has a man wrapping is arms in a long suspended cloth and then flying out over the audience. I imagine that sitting in the main section of the theatre would make this part of the performance more dramatic than it appeared to be from our seats in the balcony. After the show Quinn and Mary went to the newlyweds get together in The Vault. Diane and I went back to Cleopatra’s Lounge for a little more movement. Who knows we might even listen to the croaky Karaoke singers. After all, we looked great and the evening was still young,
    When we finally opened the door to our cabin at about one thirty, we found Cake, Wine, and Roses waiting for us in our room. There was also a gift from Collin; two swans, wearing sunglasses, facing each other their long necks forming the shape of a heart. We loved them but we had to move them to the couch.
    Derrick
  4. -Gramps-

    "Cruising" Day Nine

    By -Gramps-,

    Part IX Saturday: Room Service and Farewell
    We received a call at eight in the morning. A cheerful voice was at the other end asking us if we were ready for our breakfast. I sleepily replied in the affirmative. I jumped up, robed up and hit the head. While in there I heard a knock at our cabin door. Diane let the room service waiter in. I heard the rattle of cups and plates. Not knowing exactly where the waiter was located, I did not open the bathroom door for fear that I would knock him into the closet. Diane asked if she needed to sign anything, he said no; enjoy your breakfast and then the cabin door shut. I stepped out. There was a lot of food sitting on the small coffee table. I moved as much of it out to the even smaller balcony table, leaving the tray of herb tea and decaf balanced on the bed. It was Diane’s idea to order room service the night before and I have to admit it was a good one. It was great to just sit there and soak up the salt air and listen to the ocean pass by. Breakfast was eggs, fruit, and Danish and a lot of each. I bit into a Danish…..Prune! I hate Prunes. On every cruise for the last fifteen years I have avoided prunes. Diane said eat it, you won’t die. It was not bad actually. We took our time. We wanted our last day at sea to be a lazy one. The biggest project of the day would be to repack. I was not looking forward to that at all.
    After breakfast we put on our swim gear, Diane covered up with a pair of shorts as usual and we tried to do our next usual thing; head down to deck 4 for our fast walk. We picked up some hand weights in the spa and went to deck 4, but both ends were closed for cleaning. We had no other choice but to try the jogging track on deck 12. At first I did not like it. It was hard to keep up any kind of pace because it is also the walk way between the deck chairs, plus it is too short. I decided to expand our course by looping through Adventure Ocean, the kids’ area aft, and picking the track up on the other side. For about forty five minutes we quickly walked around the sun worshippers including the Norwegian windmill.
    After our walk we went back down to 1234 to pick up books, towels and such, climbed back up the stairs, past the blowers still drying out the carpet, and picked out two chairs in the Solarium. Choosing our chairs is not that easy, not now, nor was it earlier in the week. We want to sit together of course, but I need a chair in the shade and Diane wants one in the sun. This takes some effort; accomplishing this task takes a lot out of me and makes me hungry. This morning we were fifty percent successful, in Diane’s opinion anyway. We had to take two chairs in the shade in front of the open glass wind screen facing the sea. Mine was next to a planter that made a good spot to put my sunglasses and book. I was finishing Cold Mountain.
    Inman walked through mountain country and kept to the trails and saw few people. He measured out distance in portions of a day. A full day’s walk. Half a day. Less than half a day. Anything shorter than that was just a little piece down the road. Miles and hours became concepts he disdained since he had not the means to measure either.
    He was held back in his travels after he came upon a little-sized woman sitting humped up on a fence rail crying for her dead girl. The woman’s bonnet hood shaded her face so all Inman could see was black but the tip of her nose. When she turned her face up to Inman, though, the tears dropping from her jawbone sparkled in the morning light. She held her mouth slitted open in anguish so that in Inman’s mind it resembled the sputcheon to a sword scabbard. The sun was not up good yet and she was about to have to bury her child wound up in an old quilt, for she had no idea of how to make a box.
    Cold Mountain is about a Confederate soldier, a good one, also a good man, who after recovering from a serious wound and in the hospital, deserts and decides to walk three hundred miles home to his one true love. It is a haunting book with the ability to make a grown man cry. Diane, when she was awake, continued to read her Nora Roberts book.
    We did not move from our chairs until lunch. We left our stuff on our chairs, grabbed a slow bite in the Windjammer, returned and took up right where we left off. The only interruption was some too loud announcements. We slept, we dipped in the pool, we read and then we slept some more. At three we called it a good day at the pool and headed back to our cabin for showers and packing, not necessarily in that order.
    Diane and I had grown much closer during this trip. The cruise was a healing balm for both of us, but the time to leave was now very close; pulling the bags out from under the bed was a strong indication of just how close the end really was. I started packing my stuff first. I really did not care how straight my shirts, including the ones I had not worn, went back in my bag. But Diane who had spent a lot of time ironing them did. This was the only time we had words with each other that were anything less than kind. I repacked my shirts the way she wanted me too.
    We showered and packed in shifts, leaving out our dinner clothes. Around five we started to get dressed. Diane put on a short form fitting sleeveless B Moss pink dress with matching shoes. I put on a three button black Liz Claiborne suit, wine colored shirt, tie and pocket square combo that had stripes of color that matched Diane’s dress. I laced up my black Bostonians and we were on our way.
    Dinner was bittersweet, it was after all our last, and we enjoyed each other’s company but we knew we were saying goodbye and would in all probability not see or hear from each other again. That is just the way it is. So a lot of flashes flashed during dinner. Wanich would be missed; he took our orders for wine, Malligahanney Soup, salad and prime rib. We chatted about the many highs and few lows of our collective cruises, the avoidance of packing and scheduled flights home. The evening passed quickly. Dessert arrived; hugs were made, last pictures taken, envelopes handed to the very deserving persons who received them with thanks. And then it was time to leave, Wanich needed table 518 for the second round of goodbyes.
    We made our last roam around the ship. I looked at the watch that I had forgotten to buy, but the shop was busy and I was not in the mood to buy it anyway. We finally made our way to the theatre for the Farwell Show. The farewell video was playing. The dancers were good, Jeffrey was funny as always, and the crowd was happy but subdued. When the staff made their farewell entrance, everyone gave loud applause to show our appreciation for a good week. Jason Chase the Comedian followed the acrobatics of Duo Claudio. It took a little time for him to warm up the audience, but he did fine. The show ended, we received some “how to leave the ship” information from Jeffrey and that was that.
    We went to the photo area and bought the pictures we wanted and choose to opt out on purchasing the video. We then went to Cleopatra’s Lounge to hear “Sister Sez” the very good house band and dance for the last time. Before midnight we went back to our cabin, where a crocodile and the last little Compass newletter where on our bed. I rolled our luggage out into the hall and we turned out the lights. I sat up and watched The Count of Monte Cristo and missed the middle of it because I fell asleep. I saw the very end and turned off the television. I opened the balcony door so that I could listen to the ocean just a bit longer.
    I was beginning to feel melancholy and a bit lost. I was grateful that we were not flying home the next day but shuttling to the airport, picking up a rental car and driving to Melbourne. We would be easing ourselves back into the real world, a place that I did not want to return to and in some ways, as I am writing this, I am still not there. I am still on the Voyager, with my beautiful wife and you.
    Derrick
  5. -Gramps-

    "Cruising" Day One

    By -Gramps-,

    Don't let the amount of time that has elapsed since my last blog entry fool you, I am still alive. There has been a lot of things happening lately, but not many of those things has much to do with motorcoaching. Diane and I have been to the two of our FMCA chapter campouts (more about that later) and I spent most of today working on our coach. I am trying to repair the wet bay heater before I need it again.
    In the next couple of days I will post an up to date entry but in the meantime I have something from my old archives you might find interesting. I used to blog (before it was called that) for Cruise Critic dot com. I kept and posted a daily account of our very last cruise. One of those days I posted here sometime ago. Now that FMCA is offering member cruises, maybe you will find my account of our last cruise fun to read. If not..too bad, at least the words, and there are lots of them, will take up some space.
    It was originally a ten day, ten part posting and it received a lot of responses, from all around the world as a matter of fact. Here is Day One:
    Voyager of the Seas 10-06-2002 to 10-13-2002
    Part I Stressing, Packing, Pre-Cruising
    This cruise almost did not happen. I booked it on the first day back from our 29th anniversary cruise on the Explorer of the Seas 10-06-2001. On 911, I thought that cruise might not happen, but it did, and in spite of travel tribulations it was great. Diane and I fell in love with the Eagle class ship and had to go back for our 30th wedding anniversary. I booked an ocean view with a Crown and Anchor coupon and received a free upgrade to a stateroom with a balcony. We were told that we would be in cabin 1234. I liked that number, easy to remember, and its location, third cabin forward on the Port side, deck 10. I booked it and did not give it another thought for five months. There were too many other things to think about. A ship load of stress was sailing right at us.
    A few days after returning from the Explorer cruise our daughter Jeri informed us that she wanted to move her February wedding to December. Having two months to plan a wedding was bad enough, but to have it during the Christmas season was a tough order to fill. Hotels have parties galore during that time and finding an empty meeting room large enough to hold a wedding was not going to be easy. Not to mention that I was now going to be short almost four months income to help pay for the darn thing. We managed to pull it off. Jeri and her husband had a wonderful wedding, very intimate and very beautiful, thanks to her mother. But boy was it stressful.
    Next came Christmas and all the decisions that come with that holiday. We have family scattered all over the place and they all want us to spend time with them. We ended up with my parents and they overbooked so we had to sleep in a two story shed in their backyard that was full of ladybugs, millions of them. We had an interesting night to say the least. We slept on an old couch with a pull out single bed, both of us in the same bed, while the lucky ladybugs slept in the double bed with the nice mattress upstairs. Both Diane and I went home with prophetic back aches.
    I am self employed, in the wacky telecommunications business. At the end of December I sold the largest system I have ever sold in eleven years. I sold it to a very high profile company with a lot of important partners; one of the partners makes beer and owns theme parks. It took me three months to install it and tweak it to my satisfaction. I just finished it when our oldest daughter Christine and her two year old son decided that they needed to move back into her old bedroom if you know what I mean.
    So, I barely had time to catch my breath from three months of hard work when I found myself with two more mouths to feed and a new job. I was now Derrick the marriage counselor. This was a job that I did not want and did my best to refuse. My wife had to put up with all of us. Stress moved in like a child comes home. From March to June things were very tough.
    In May we remodeled our main bathroom. We gutted it and started over. It was a lot of work but we had no choice, the room was falling apart. We and our contractor finished it in early June. Because of scheduling problems and supply problems and labor problems and children problems I missed my parent’s 50th wedding anniversary celebration. I hate to say it but I didn’t care. I was too tired to care.
    In late June things got tougher. Diane woke up one morning and had such terrific backside and leg pain that she could not get out of bed. Christine managed to get her to the emergency room. She had a pinched nerve. Duh! Take Tylenol number 3 and Motrin 800, that will fix it, they said. It didn’t. She suffered in silence for two or three weeks until I said it was time to visit a chiropractor. We did, and he informed us that she was in pretty bad shape. She could barely walk, and would require three visits a week for the next few months. It was then that I remembered our cruise. The good doctor said that he would her would have her ship shape and ready to go, on time. I said thank you and wrote him a large check. (Large enough for a cruise)
    In August Christine moved into her own apartment. Business had been slow for the past two months, but that was a blessing in disguise considering the fact that I had to spend quite a bit of time grocery shopping and looking after the things that Diane normally did. When you have a seventeen year old boy in the house, you have to buy a lot of food. Often. I wanted to cancel the cruise, Diane said no. In mid August I made the final payment on the cruise and travel insurance. Diane followed her doctor’s advice to the letter; I went back to work and hoped that October first would arrive quietly and we would have some peace until then. That was not to be.
    In mid September we found out that Diane’s mother had Alzheimer’s disease. This of course caused another family crisis and led to court orders and guardian hearings and wonderful stuff like that. I wanted to cancel the cruise. Diane said no. Two weeks before departure date, Diane and her brother placed her mother in an assisted living facility.
    The day before departure I went with Diane to the Chiropractor’s office. He wanted to show me some new ways to use my elbow so that I could administer some relief to Diane in case she needed it while we were gone. The good doctor ended up putting me on the table after I told him that I was having back pain. Christine’s car had broke down two days before causing her to borrow Diane’s car and the stress was torque-ing me out of shape.
    We barley had time to do all the pre cruise dry cleaning, shopping and things like that, but God help us, we pulled it off.
    On Friday, October the fourth, at 5:30 in the morning, Christine, Diane and I left for the Norfolk airport. We had five bags (three of them mine), plus a camera bag, a makeup bag, not mine, and a purse, also not mine. I tend to pack too much. This trip was no exception. Diane and I like to dress up every night on the cruise. I was hoping that Southwest would not hit us with overweight charges. Diane told me not to pack my cedar shoe trees (four pairs), just stuff your shoes with a pair of socks or tissue paper. I thought that was a good idea and then did not follow her advice. Those trees added six pounds. I packed a tux (for two nights), a black suit, a grey suit, a blue suit, and a grey plaid suit. I wore them all. I packed two too many shirts and ties because I was too tired to make up my mind the night before. I could not sleep at all and found myself on the Cruise Critic boards writing another installment to our first cruise memoir.
    About ten minutes out Diane realized that she had forgotten to put her rings on after pouring finger nail polish remover from a large bottle into a travel size bottle. She said she didn’t like the idea of going on an anniversary cruise without her wedding ring. I informed her that there would be no cruise if we returned for her rings. Christine said here take mine, it doesn’t mean that much to me anyway. Diane borrowed Christine’s big stone and put it on. It was a bit large but it would have to do.
    We arrived at the airport and unloaded; because the line was very long we ignored curb service check in, strapped all our bags together and pulled the train into the station. There was no line at the Southwest counter. We checked in and took our checked bags to the explosive screening station. I was surprised to see that it was a member of our church working there. He saw me and told us to let him handle our bags. He wiped them down thoroughly and they passed and He said have a great cruise and off we went to our gate. For security reasons I don’t think I should mention any TSA officer’s name, plus I can’t remember it.
    We pulled our carryons to the top of the escalator and headed over to the coffee shop for a cup of high test and a bran muffin. While standing in line I noticed a young lady carrying a sleeping bag. She had just arrived from Diego Garcia, an island just below the equator south of India. In 1998 I made a trip there. We talked for awhile and she informed me the place was hopping, I knew that was a sure sign of war. The war in Afghanistan started on the last cruise maybe we would attack Iraq during this one.
    We drank our coffee and ate our muffins and headed for the security gate. We went though and I set off the alarm. The guard asked me if I was wearing Rockports and I said yes. He informed me that they have steel shanks in them and would need to be X-rayed. Okay. I took them off, he wanded me down, I put my shoes back on and we continued. Southwest has open seating. You board in groups A, B, C. We were in B. We were called and headed down the jet way and onto the plane. Half the passengers were kids under the age of six. At least it seemed that way. Everyone was headed to Disney World. We were the only ones going on to Fort Lauderdale. It was one noisy flight. Plus there was a little boy kicking the back of Diane’s seat all the way down and a boy in front of her bouncing her tray. After one good kick to Diane’s back, I was sure she was going to climb over the seat and slap the boy’s mother. (The mother was fast asleep) Fortunately I was able to restrain her. Needless to say we were both glad to land in Orlando.
    We sat around for awhile and I read my book “The Lovely Bones”. It’s the story of a girl who is brutally murdered and goes to Heaven and observes her family and her Father’s attempts to solve her murder. It is a very strange and at the same time wonderful book. Diane was reading Nora Roberts “Honest Illusions”.
    On the way to the gate Diane complained about her new Reeboks that I had bought her. One of our pre cruise rituals is to buy new sneaks. I bought hers for her this time and I was careful to get the right size, but somehow one shoe was way too large and tightening the lasses did not seem to help. There was nothing we could do about it at the moment.
    We finally boarded the plan for Fort Lauderdale and about forty minutes later found ourselves making a big wide turn to the left on our final approach. I noticed a lot of large homes on small lots next to what looked like swamps to me. I guess that must be waterfront property.
    We finally landed and made our way off the plane and down to baggage claim. We waited no time at all. My two bags were the first ones to come out together and Diane’s followed about a minute later. Two bags together how often does that happen? We strapped everything together and headed our baggage train out the door marked ground transportation and found the Tri-County Express counter. There we ordered a car for 45 dollars for up to five passengers. The driver looked at all our luggage and wanted to know where everybody else was. I told him it was just the two of us. He shook his head and started to load up. One suitcase had to ride up front with him. We informed him that we were headed for the Wyndham Hotel on Collins in Miami Beach. He knew exactly where to go. Our driver was from Spain and complained that Florida weather was too hot. He was in the country on a long visit with his grandmother who had recently lost her husband. He was looking forward to heading back to the Spanish Coast. On the way we passed another car stopped on the side on the road next to a police car. The taxi seemed to be bursting with luggage. I don’t know why it was stopped, maybe it was overloaded.
    We arrived at the Wyndham in about twenty minutes I guess. The valets immediately grabbed our bags and hauled them upstairs to the very beautiful lobby. I paid the driver with a c note, which he broke and then I tipped him.
    We entered the hotel, and liked it right away. We were supposed to be in the Eden Roc but remodeling forced RCC to move us to the Wyndham. I did not mind at all. I checked in and then Joe, the bellhop, loaded our bags on a cart and took us up to room 1222. Not 1234 but close. Joe has been a bell hop at the Wyndham for thirty years. He showed us the room, it was very pleasant with its sea blue and green checked bedspreads and blue and white vertical stripped curtains. He told us about the restaurants, and said he would be available when we left for our cruise on Sunday. He is a very nice man. I tipped him, shut the door, turned down the AC and headed for the window. On the left was the beach, beautiful blue water just beyond a huge twin towered condo. On the right was downtown Miami. I could see a Carnival ship, an NCL ship and a Royal Caribbean Ship. It was now about 12:00 noon. I started to relax. I looked at Diane; she moved over and put her arms around me. I said I think that I am hungry. She said, let’s see if the mattress is any good and then lunch. I said that sounds like a plan.
    Derrick
    Next
    Part II
    South Beach, Swatches, Kids, and Embarkation
  6. -Gramps-

    "Cruising" Day Seven

    By -Gramps-,

    Part VII Thursday: Swimming with the Rays.
    At seven forty five the phone rang. I answered and it was the spa giving us our wake up call in time for Diane to keep her appointment. She was having the seaweed wrap and deep tissue massage. I envied her. I was going to be spending the morning without her. She threw on her clothes and headed out the door. I got up a few minutes later and tried to figure out how to spend my morning. She was going to be gone for a couple of hours. I went out on the balcony and watched us sail into Georgetown’s harbor. I was immediately struck by how flat Grand Cayman was. It was quite a contrast from the previous two stops. The air felt good and the water was beautiful so I decided to pull up a chair, put my feet on the railing, and read for awhile.
    Around nine, I thought another dose of Eggs Benedict might be nice, along with some company, so I made a solo visit to the dining room. I arrived at the entrance and a waiter immediately escorted me to the only partially seated table. I assume that the standard procedure is to not seat someone at a new table until all seats at the last table are full. My escort looked at that table with four people and two empty chairs, looked at the other tables, looked back the semi empty table again, and with an agonized look on his face said “sir will this do?” I said sure, He looked at me hard and said “are you sure?” I thought what is the problem? I responded that it would be fine. He seated me and as he was leaving he leaned close and said “I am so sorry.” I found that curious.
    There was a family of four seated at the table, a rather large man in a tank top with a big Fu Manchu mustache with his arms crossed, both elbows on the table. There was the Mom, teen age daughter, (both rather large people) and the son who looked to be around ten or eleven. I had the impression that the son, who sat with his chin in his hand, was not having a very good time. He looked thin and tired, with dark circles under his eyes. The mother asked me where I was from. I told them Portsmouth VA. They were from Connecticut, which surprised me; I would have thought their home was a little further south than that. The waiter asked for our orders, all wanted juice except the boy, I ordered coffee. The father also ordered Danish. When it arrived at his left elbow, he did not move the plate or uncross his arms, which he kept on the table, he simply cut it with his fork in his right hand and ate it. This was not an easy feat. The juice arrived with the Danish and the daughter took a sip. She made the most awful face. The mother asked her what was wrong. She replied that apple juice tasted terrible with toothpaste. I supposed she was right. She made this face every time she took a sip. The waiter took our orders, the father ordered the same as me, the Mom and daughter a country breakfast and the boy fruit loops. The waiter asked what kind of milk. The boy said no milk, orange juice. The waiter replied, "you can have juice, but what kind of milk?” The mom jumped in and said no milk, he puts orange juice on his fruit loops, and he’s just a little different. The waiter looked stunned, “Different, that is Different.” He shook his head and walked away.
    The orders come all begin eating except the boy, his mom pours his orange juice in the loops and the boy just stares at this concoction. We chat about our week, they ask me what I did on shore, and I inform them I have not been off the ship. They are surprised at that (I assume the dad is surprised, he has not said one word yet)
    I tell them my wife (she is in the spa) and I would be happy just to stay at sea the whole seven days. The boy gives me this look of utter disgust and says “Not me! I would just Die!”
    The father then yells at him. “Finish your **** fruit loops, you haven’t eaten anything this whole week and you need some nutrition.” The boy seems to shrink and he takes a minimal bite. I estimate two to four loops. I look at the poor boy with his sad dark eyes and want to jump up and yell “Don’t make him, he’s smarter than you are.” But I quickly finish my eggs, as the son drowns his loops, daughter sips, smacking her lips and grimacing, Mom still smiling, big Dad frowning, arms crossed the whole time.
    As I left I had to ask myself; how did the waiter know what was coming?
    I roamed the promenade for a while and then went back to cabin 1234, patted the dog on the head, and picked my book back up. Soon a very relaxed and glowing Diane came through the door. She was feeling very good (for the second time). I told her that I was sure her morning had gone better than mine. I related my fun breakfast starting with the apologizing waiter. After she finished laughing, she said the boy’s dark circles were probably caused by allergies. “What do you think he’s allergic too?” I asked “Fruit loops and orange juice” was her wise reply. That was it, I told her I wanted off the ship.
    We jumped into our swim gear, grabbed towels, sun screen, hats, and went downstairs to deck 1 to catch the tender and do some shopping; we had ninety minutes before it was time to meet our tour at the pier and leave for Sting Ray City.
    We purchased two bottles of water as we headed off the ship. Our sea pass cards went Ding and we were on our way. We sat on large benches which provided space for rear ends on top and life jackets inside. In Miami, Diane had bought two nifty straps with replacement flip top caps for water bottles. The straps were on a ring that was just a bit too small for our bottles so I gave mine a good hard push, collapsed the bottle and squirted a fountain of ice cold water which quickly found its way under the posteriors of the people in front of us. They jumped up and I apologized as I toweled the water up. They said it felt good. I aim to please. Diane said that she can’t take me anywhere.
    The tender docked and we walked about a hundred feet to the only shop that I had to visit, the Del Sol shirt shop. We were in there for awhile, because we both like the stuff they sell and so do our kids. Diane bought something for Jeri and Christine, finger nail polish for herself. I bought myself a shirt that had a black and white photo of a beach on the back that turns into a color photo after exposed to the sun. It also had the phrase No Shirt, No Shoes, and No Taxes. I wish. We walked around for awhile, bought postcards, jewelry, Christmas ornaments, and some more shirts. I took a picture of one of the bank buildings. Diane asked why. I replied that maybe our lost Global Crossing money is in there.
    At twelve fifteen we headed back to the pier to meet the tour group. We had a very short wait, along with quite a few other people. We walked a few hundred yards along the harbor to the waiting transportation, white school bus like buses. We climbed on board and as I was sitting I lost my camera lens cap. The passengers around us helped me find it. We drove along the main road for a few miles. It seems that Georgetown is a bit better off than say, Nassau or San Juan. Soon we turned right, down a one lane road and then stopped and backed into a gravel parking lot next to a boardwalk like dock. The dock was next to a channel about fifty feet wide. We left the busses and waited on the dock and soon a big green double decked pontoon boat named “Emerald Eyes” motored up, turned around, and tied up. Around thirty or so happy people stepped off and we stepped on. The bottom deck had storage bins full of snorkeling gear; we moved to the top deck and took a seat on the bench along the railing. It was a nice trip out to the sand bar where the rays congregate. The sky was blue, the water, at the head of the channel a brilliant blue. As soon as the Emerald Eyes cleared the channel it was full speed ahead. I sun screened up and went below to pick out our gear, masks and snorkels only, no fins. We go in with bare feet. I choose the only bright pink snorkel for Diane, knowing I would see it if we got separated.
    We reached the sandbar and tied up to a couple of buoy anchors. The area was pretty crowded with swimmers with these big shadows moving among them. I counted four boats the same size as ours. The first thing I noticed was the noise. The swimmers were making it. It was loud and somehow familiar. I soon realized what it was. It sounded just like a crowded kid’s playground. They were having fun. You could hear it, raw, contagious fun. I had to get in the water, but first came the mandatory instructions.
    “Slide your feet when your walk, avoid stepping on the rays. There are buckets of food floating out there. If your want to feed them, just hold your hand under them, they will find it. Don’t lift the rays out of the water; don’t run from them, you will only back into another one or someone else. Don’t be afraid of them. They will not harm you, they make their living being friendly to people. Listen, what does it sound like out there? They are having fun! “
    Diane and I went in. The rays were everywhere. The females were up to five feet wide, the males about a foot and a half at the most. When I held food they came after it, two or three at a time, flapping up my chest and swimming between my feet and legs. The tops of the rays were rough, and I soon discovered they did not like to be rubbed on the top, they would avoid it. Underneath, their skin was as soft as a wet mushroom. They liked being rubbed there. When feeding they would vacuum the squid right out of my hand. Some people found the rays to be scary and fun at the same time, but it was obvious that everyone was having a great time. Diane and I felt like kids again. I took Diane’s hand and we snorkeled our way out to the far edge of all the excitement. I wanted a different underwater view. With our heads in the water, the noise of the crowd dropped to a muffle. We watched the serene, elegant creatures; without a care in the world, gracefully glide their way through a forest of legs.
    It was an exhilarating hour in the water that ended all too quickly.
    Captain Don gave his short creature feature talk, which was full of interesting facts about rays, such as they sun tan like humans, they give birth to their young, etc. When he was done it was time to leave. No one wanted to go. It was now three pm, Voyager sails at four.
    We climbed back aboard the Emerald Eyes and soon we were motoring our way back to the dock. We had stored our shoes, shorts, camera and such in an empty life jacket locker. A young lady in a small swim suit had already claimed the top of it for as a sunbathing platform. I politely asked her if we could retrieve our belongings, she got up. I was bending over to pull all of our stuff out of the locker when she turned her back to me and bent over to retrieve her shoes. She was wearing a thong. She had no freckles on a certain part of her anatomy which is a lot more about her than I wanted to see or know.
    We arrived back at the dock, boarded the buses, and after a short drive, followed by a short walk, we boarded the tender for the ship. We went through security, dinged our Sea Passes and headed up the stairs to deck 10.
    We were climbing the starboard side stairs and had reached deck 6 when we noticed water dripping down the stairs. By the time we had gotten to the landing on deck 8 it was pouring down the carpet with it sagging away from the bottom of the stairs, because it was full of water. Deck 10, close to our passageway was flooded. The water was coming from deck 11 and the spa. I ran up the stairs to see what was going on. There was a crew of people with mops, squeegees, and lots of towels cleaning up the water. I thought the spa must have sprung a leak. A member of the crew told me that a sprinkler pipe had burst somewhere in the overhead inside the spa. It was obvious that they were working to clean it up in a hurry.
    I went sloshing back down the stairs to inform Diane what was going on, we entered our cabin for showers, and clean up for dinner. I looked out the balcony door and saw that the ship was moving out to sea. We must have been in the last group of people to come back on board.
    Tonight was the second formal night. I put on my tux, clean formal shirt and a royal blue satin vest that I wore at my daughter’s wedding and a gold Seiko watch that I bought during the cruise the year before. I accidentally put my tie on upside down and the darn thing kept falling over all evening. My vest matched Diane’s dress; a long clingy velvet thing with a short quarter sleeved jacket accented with sequined lapels.
    We headed off to deck 5 through the Promenade and into the dining room.
    Our friends from Knoxville were back at the table, the husband recovered from his illness. Wanich was his pleasant self, said good evening, seated us and made his recommendations for the night. Joseph laid out the bread, took our wine order, another bottle of Martini and Rossi Asti. Diane and I both ordered the crab cake appetizer and rack of lamb as the main course. The main topic of conversation for today was excursions. I don’t remember what every one else did. I remember telling them that swimming with the rays was as much fun as it looked on the Royal Caribbean TV spot. I described it to them in detail and finished by saying that those rays got to do things that I never did on my first date. It was a fun evening capped by apple pie for the repeat cruisers and Baked Alaska (which was prepared well, but I believe to be overrated as a dessert) for all the new cruisers.
    We left to promenade on the Promenade (I like that phrase) in our formal get up and have a couple more pictures taken. Along the way we bumped into the Krooze Comics doing a cops and robbers chase routine in and out of doors at each end of the bridge over the promenade. The cop came down the stairs and Diane yelled at him “They went thataway” he said thanks, the robbers came down after the cop was out of sight and I told them that Diane ratted them out. They said “ dat’s okay she’s be-uti-ful” and started blowing obscene kisses at her and telling her they would call her later. She got a kick out of that.
    We went into the jewelry store. I had the urge to buy another Fossil watch that I had been looking at for some time. The salesman asked if he could help me and we started talking about watches and my collection of them. I told him about some of my more unusual pocket watches and he said he would like to see them. I said sure, I’ll go get them. I left Diane for a couple of minutes and headed up to the cabin. Collin and another attendant were at the end of the passageway in front of the crew only door. Collin yelled “Mr. Parker, I thought I just saw you go into your cabin.” No. “Then it must have been your brother.” I had no idea what he was talking about. I opened the door and just about jumped out of my shoes. Sitting on the bed was a full sized man in my robe with Diane’s red sandals on his invisible feet. He was wearing my sunglasses and holding the remote in his invisible hand. It was the funniest “towel animal” I had ever seen. Collin had stuffed my robe with bed pillows, made a head out of a couch pillow and tied a napkin around the head to give him a sort of “ninja in bathrobe with remote” motif. I told Collin it was the best cabin surprise of any cruise yet. I also told him that I would let Diane discover it her own. He was all smiles. I did take pictures.
    I went back to Diane and showed off my special gold watch with the glass back and face. The salesman was impressed, even more so when I told him it cost twenty nine dollars at Wal-Mart.
    Soon it was time for the Broadway review in La Scala. It was okay, but I prefer original Broadway numbers to ones that have been souped up so to speak. It occurred to me that a real Broadway production on a cruise ship, say Guys and Gals, would be really interesting, but that would take too much time and not appeal to a wide variety of people. At this point in the cruise, however anything pleased me.
    After the show we went back to the promenade and discovered some our Irish friends sitting outside the Pig and Whistle. I said hello and they introduced me to those sitting with them. We pulled up a chair and the subject of accents, both Scottish and Irish came up. We talked about America, family and politics for awhile; actually it was a long while. It was tomorrow when we said good night.
    At twelve we went dancing in Cleo’s Needle and at twelve thirty we went back to the theatre to see the adult session of Dan Wilson. He was blue but for the most part funny.
    After the show we called it another great day. On the way to the cabin I told Diane that she was the best looking girl on the ship. She said “No, I am not, but I am the best looking grandmother.” That is for sure. I opened the door to the cabin and said you first. She walked in and screamed.
    Collin you are good.
    Derrick
  7. -Gramps-

    "Cruising" Day Six

    By -Gramps-,

    People, after reading this cruise story, have asked me how I remembered so many details. The answer is....I don't know. Half the time I can't remember where I put my car keys.
    Part VI : Wednesday; Learn to Rub Her the Right Way or A very Adult Day!
    We both woke around eight. Diane was still pretty mellowed out from the night before until I knocked over a glass of last night’s wine into the phone. I grabbed a towel and mopped it up. We had to keep our appointment with Joe, and her body composition tester, in the fitness center at nine, before breakfast, so we got up and dressed as the ship was pulling into Ocho Rios. I find it interesting this ship does not need the use of a tug boat. With its azipods and lateral thrusters she can maneuver with speed or finesse completely on her own. The crescent shaped harbor was more attractive than I thought it would be, and since our cabin was on the port side we had a perfect view.
    I grabbed a small piece of our anniversary cake and wolfed it down and then we left our white animal menagerie (2 birds and a dog) on the couch and headed upstairs to the spa. Joe was ringing up something at the register so we had a short wait. Diane climbed up on the table first, after removing her right shoe and sock. First Joe stuck a sensor to the top of Diane’s right hand and the top of her right foot. Joe then asked her age, her height (she calculated it in inches) and her weight (before the cruise of course) and entered the info on a keypad on the analyzer. It took about thirty seconds for the machine to do its thing. I went right after her.
    The results included what percent of your weight is fat and lean and the number of pounds of fat, and lean (muscle plus bone). Another result is the basal metabolic rate. The metabolic rate is how many calories your body is using each day. And the machine analyzes your total body water content in liters and the percentages of how much water is stored in the fat and in the lean weight of your body. Finally the analysis recommends what your target for all the above should be and how many total pounds you should lose. Joe said the pounds will include water, everyone stores it, percentage of weight is more for women than men except in this case, I was storing more than Diane. I was over hydrated. I believed it, water seemed to be leaving me at the same volume that I put it in.
    The bottom line was that Diane needed to lose 3.2 pounds or increase her muscle mass and I needed to drop 0.8 pounds or increase my lean mass as well. This could be accomplished by raising our metabolic rate with harder exercise. We walk a lot so she suggested we speed it up, carry hand weights, and pump the arms. In other words, become a little breathless and sweat more. If after exercising we could still talk to each other we were not working hard enough. She also recommended a good dose of vitamins including one that helps to keep everything flowing through your system properly. We both know what she was talking about. Elemis, in partnership with Steiner seems to sell a good product. She told us what a six month supply would cost and said that if we wanted the vitamins there would be full credit each for the analysis and she would throw in two really neat dry body brushes made from some kind of cactus fiber. We could come back to see her at any time during the cruise, nothing had to be bought then. We signed for the analyses and that was it. As a whole I found the session with Joe to be quite informative and helpful. We did come back and purchase a three month supply of Elemis vitamins for each of us. The price was almost the same as we have been paying for Zone vitamins so for us it was just a matter of switching brands.
    After finding out that I needed to loose weight the first thing I wanted to do was eat breakfast, Diane agreed. So it was off to the Windjammer for omelets and a lot of fruit. You may be wondering why did we do not eat in the dining room more often. It is easier for us to have a Zone Meal (a balance of protein, and carbohydrates) in the Windjammer. Plus, we like the view and the omelet station.
    After what for us was a late breakfast we went back to the spa and borrowed a couple sets of hand weights and headed down to, you guessed it, deck 4. We put on the speed this morning. All the decks were open and we walked hard. I broke a good sweat early with the extra weight. I will say this; the view of Ocho Rios was great. We walked (with me making a lot of circles on the helipad) for forty five minutes and then headed back down to our cabin.
    We saw Collin in one of the suites down the passageway from ours and exchanged cheerful good mornings. Collin had already advised us that Ocho Rios was not that good of a place to visit. He said “this is not the real Jamaica, if you want to see the real Jamaica come back for a week and visit some other really beautiful places on the island.” It was obvious that our deciding to stay on the ship (that is right, two days in a row) was not a bad idea to him. He did tell us that Dunn’s River Falls was good; however, because of Diane’s back, we were not going to go and risk a slip and a new injury.
    I would like to mention this about Collin. He was extremely friendly and cheerful. He kept the ice bucket and our wine bucket full, he watered Diane’s roses. He took the swan out of the bed where I had tucked it in and carefully placed it on the couch and he put the one that I left in the shower, with a bar of soap, back in the shower after he cleaned it, the shower, not the bird. He also had a surprise or two up his sleeve as we would find out later.
    It was now about eleven o’clock and Diane wanted to watch the excursion channel and book a swim with the rays for the next day and a snorkel and swim trip in Cozumel for Friday. We never book except through RCCL. We have heard too many horror stories about bad leaky boats, late returns and missing the ship and things of that nature. I suppose we could save a little money but we set a budget for the whole trip and if some things cost a little more, we just spend a little less somewhere else, i.e. trips for tee shirts, a nice budget blowing ring or necklace in Cozumel, less drinks on the ship. Vacation (in a Motorcoach or on a ship), just like Life, is a trade off sometimes. I just don’t care to worry about the price of every little thing.
    We made our choices for Don Foster’s Sting Ray City snorkel tour for twelve thirty on Thursday and a Catamaran snorkel and swim for ten am on Friday in Cozumel. I followed the instructions for booking through the TV and accidentally bought the first excursion twice. I discovered that about a minute later after looking at our sea pass charges. I would have to have those charges removed. I planned to take care of it right after lunch. We did nothing but sit for a little while on the balcony and then headed for lunch in the Windjammer again.
    I had some kind of seafood stew with mussels and clams and shrimp and boy was it good. Also some lamb, Greek salad and other stuff. I chased that with a Canolli, (I hope I spelled it correctly), that sinful little flaky pastry with the cream filling. (it ain’t a Twinkie) The server recommended that I take two.
    I only needed one so I took it, walked away, took one bite and turned around for another one. The server reminded me that he said I should take two. I loved those things, from then on if I noticed they were in the Windjammer or the Promenade café, I was asking for one faster than you can misspell canolle.
    After lunch it was back to the spa for our couple’s massage class. Not having a professional massage before, I was not sure what to expect, other than I thought it would be a pleasant experience. We arrived and were told to have a seat in a very attractive marble waiting room overlooking the bow. We did not have to fill out any forms as I saw others in the room doing. In about five minutes, Stacey the young looking and attractive massage therapist came and shook our hands, (Stacey’s hand felt strong but her skin was very dry which surprised me) and escorted us into a small room with marble walls, piped in music and a padded massage table. There were two low cabinets in two corners, one with a small sink; both had bottles of oil and small vials of aromatherapy scents sitting on them. Stacey asked who wanted to receive the first massage and I said Diane. She asked if Diane had underwear bottoms on (no massage if you don’t) and if so to undress and then to lie on the table. She would step out to offer Diane some privacy. It sounded to me like Stacey is from England; she pronounced all her e’s hard. Privacy sounded like preevacy. Diane thinks she is from Australia. Could be. At times, when she was giving me instructions, I had to listen carefully.
    Diane positioned herself facedown on the table, with nothing on but her Victoria Secrets, covered by a sheet. In a minute Stacey stepped back in.
    She moved very slowly and deliberately and uncovered Diane’s legs or leegs as she pronounced it and we began. First she selected a blue bottle and poured a generous amount of oil into my hands and hers. It smelled faintly of eucalyptus. She moved over Diane’s left leg, and I took the right one.
    I know that touch is very powerful so I really wanted to learn. I watched Stacey very closely. She showed me different strokes that can be used, from a delicate touch to deep-tissue kneading. Strokes varied in speed and pressure. First, I had to keep my hands relaxed and start working slowly and rhythmically to warm up Diane’s muscles, and gradually build up speed and pressure. Always stroke firmly in the direction of the heart and lightly on the return. Do not lift your hands; Diane should feel the massage as one long series of strokes. We moved up and down her legs, very lightly over the back of the knee, a very sensitive spot. I started to get a back ache, Stacey, seeing my position, said don’t just use your shoulders and hands, move your whole body, stay on top of your hands and use your legs to move. I did and it worked much better for me and Diane. After a few minutes, Stacey asked Diane how I was doing. I heard a muffled “Great!” Stacey told me I had the hands for it, that I was doing greeat. We applied thumb pressure to her feet and heels, back to the legs and we moved to her back and shoulders leaving one hand in contact with her at all times. We lightly stroked her back to warm it up applying more and more pressure staying off the spine. We moved to the head of the table to message her shoulders and neck, squeezing the muscles of her shoulders. Diane was feeling pretty good by this time. We used very little oil because the friction is important; also do not pour oil in your hands over the person because drips are distracting and cold. Stacey was not using the anti-stress oil that I would use at home because she performs so many massages; exposure to the oil all day long would wring her out. We finished and now it was my turn.
    Stacey stepped out and I undressed to my Hanes and climbed on the table.
    Stacey retuned and Diane, who looked kind of sleepy, took my right leg.
    It felt really good, my face in the whole in the table, closed eyes and soft music playing. Stacey had hands, let me tell you, she could press and squeeze. She could feel knotted muscles and give them special attention, like my shoulder blades and lower back, Diane’s right calf. Diane’s hands felt good but she was not as strong. I had four feminine hands rubbing and squeezing and kneading my legs, my feet, my back, neck and even my head. I was being indulged; a massage-a-trois’. It was wonderful. I feel asleep and did not know it.
    I heard off in the distance, “that’s how it is done.” Diane told me I could get up now. I did not want to. I dressed and Stacey came back in. She showed us the different massage oils and essential oils like lavender and such. One bottle of oil came with our class and we bought a bottle of aching muscle oil. We paid for the course, 110 dollars each and that was it. She suggested that we go to the fitness center and hit the sauna and showers. Seemed like a good idea to me.
    There was one thing that surprised me. We started the session at two, it was now four thirty. I had no idea, it seemed like only a few minutes had passed.
    We hit our separate saunas for about fifteen minutes, showered and headed back to our cabins, feeling very relaxed and a little bit tingly at the same time.
    Sometime later, we started the process for dinner, Caribbean night. I put on a Jones New York navy blue suit and a light blue shirt with French Cuffs; antique silver cuff links, a matching art deco Fossil wrist watch and a J Garcia tie with big bright red, blue, gold and purple squares. Diane wore a sea blue and green long loose skirt with a tropical design made out of gold thread, and matching sleeveless top. She slipped on white sandals with gold studs on the top. We thought we looked pretty good, we knew we were feeling good. We had rubbed each other the right way.
    Diane and I walked into the dining room, Wanich, in his vest that matched my tie, pulled out our chairs and said good evening. Betty told me I looked spiffy. We ordered a bottle of Asti. I ordered the Pepperpot soup, pork loin stuffed with apricots and nuts and Diane ordered fish with Mango Salsa.
    We both ordered the crab and shrimp salad appetizers.
    We all asked about each other’s day. Quinn and Mary took the rafting trip; our friends from Tennessee went on a jeep safari tour and sampled the local cuisine (big mistake) at a small Jerk Chicken bar. Mike and Betty stayed on board. I told them about our day, and to tell you the truth I was a bit out of it. I was under the influence of Stacey, Diane and three glasses of Asti. I did not even notice when our Tennessee tablemates fled the table, due to illness. Sometime during dessert it seemed like something was different, not sure what, oh well.
    Dinner was two hours tonight, everyone (not ill) was pretty mellow and talkative.
    We finished dinner, roamed around until time to go to the ice show at nine. Diane had picked up our tickets sometime Monday, without me. First we stopped by the excursion desk to fix our too many tickets problem. There was a very short line, we told the excursion person what I did, he said it happens all the time just ignore the extra tickets when they arrive in our cabin and he would remove the charge. Fine, on to the show.
    The ice show was cool (no pun intended). Being close to the action was a big plus. It was composed of musical numbers, flyers, and acrobatics using some kind of ring, along with a mock figure skating competition. The fake judging and sit and cry segment was a little corny, but when one of the male skaters hit a triple axle, even he got excited.
    Show over we had a little time before the Love and Marriage show at La Scala, it was a busy night tonight. We grabbed a macadamia cookie or two on the way there.
    The show was an absolute adult’s only riot. One of the couples that were chosen (by drawing) was the Norwegian Windmill. I could not believe it.
    Diane would not let me put our names in the pot. No way, no how. Considering some of the questions she was right to refuse. There is no easy way to accurately review this event. Jeffrey asks eight questions of the couples who are seated back to back, after the man and wife answer all eight; he reviews them to see how many answers match. Points are awarded for the most correct, some questions worth more points than others.
    Some of the questions were the following (not necessarily in the proper order):
    1. What color is your wife’s underwear? (she is not wearing any)
    2. Two part question, what size bra does your wife wear? (She isn’t wearing one)
    3. When and where did you meet for the first time? (three men missed this one)
    4. What was the most unusual place you did the horizontal mambo? (you can answer this one for yourself, cause I not going to tell you my answer)
    The Norwegian couple won, I think they were cheating, whispering to each other in an unknown tongue, but that is just my opinion. They received a bottle of champagne and a lot of laughs.
    The night following a good day was now over, we tried the Vault lounge but it was too smoky for us so we tried High Notes for some Latin Music instead. We danced for awhile and then called it a night. We opened our cabin door and found our tickets for the excursions, and a white elephant on the bed. I understand that seeing one of them is a good omen, a sign of good luck. I think I was about to get lucky. (I told you that this was a very adult day!)
    Derrick
  8. -Gramps-

    "Cruising" Day Ten

    By -Gramps-,

    Part X Sunday Morning :We have to get off the ship.
    Diane and I woke at false dawn. Voyager was already docked. In just a few minutes the sunrise could be seen in the glass of the buildings outside our balcony. I took a couple of pictures. We dressed without saying much to each other. We did not have to. Diane put on a red short sleeve lace up shirt and white Capri pants. I think I put on one of my new Liz Claiborne for men tees, brown and off white linen shorts. We packed our dress clothes from the evening before in our carryons as well as all our personal care stuff. I grabbed a bottle of wine that Wanich sent to our cabin the night before and padded it with some Royal Caribbean shopping bags and stowed it away in my bag. I did an idiot check (make sure you don’t forget anything or you will feel like an idiot). We took a last look at Diane’s beautiful roses, still blooming. They were the best looking roses that I have ever bought. I picked up the Voyager Art Catalog and zipped it into my bag. We took a last look at our animal collection; made sure the balcony was locked, grabbed our bags and then just stood there. After a moment or two I said “We have to go Diane, on the count of four we roll... 1.2.3.4”.
    Out the door she went, I followed.
    We hoped to see Collin, but he was not to be seen and I really did not want to disturb him. I figured he was having a busy morning. We made it a point to leave him a very good tip and Diane wrote a very personal thank you on the envelope. He was the best.
    We passed the Egyptian art in its case for the last time and took the elevator up to the Windjammer. We assembled our normal breakfast after receiving a cheerful good morning from the plate person. How they can stay so cheerful all the time is quite a skill. We sat with another couple and talked about building a house and a little bit about cruising. I forget where they were from. We met a lot of nice people on this cruise, if only for a brief time.
    We ran into Dondi and Joe from our catamaran trip at Cozumel the night before. They went with Diane and me on our last tour of the ship. I wanted to see the Sky Chapel and the “Who’s Next?” men’s room. That is a very large bathroom on deck 11 next to the florist with water cascading down a marble wall that you, well if you know the Who’s album cover you should understand. It was different. Dondi and Diane snuck in to see it.
    We finished breakfast and decided to find a chair out on deck 4 (seemed logical to me) until our blue tags were called. We expected to be late since we were not flying out that day. We turned in our customer satisfaction forms on the way down. Deck 4 had quite a few people sitting around. We rolled our bags next to an empty chair and in just a minute our Tennessee friends came by with a couple of Labadee walking sticks. They were quite ornate but I wondered how difficult it would be to take them on the plane. They also had blue tags. We chatted awhile about South Beach which we could see in the distance and then I asked Diane if she wanted to play a game of shuffle board. She agreed but after awhile it was obvious her head was not into it. We played only one or two games. We heard a few colors being called, but it seemed to be a long time in between. It was over an hour before we heard “Blue, would all passengers holding Blue tags please proceed to customs and baggage claim” We said good bye to our tablemates. They left but we were in no hurry. We sat and looked at the South Beach skyline for about another half hour and Diane announced she needed to find the ladies room. We rolled our way back into the ship, she made her stop, a RCCL staffer moved a yellow nylon ribbon out of the way of the exit and we were off the ship.
    The line through customs was not too bad. We found out that because it was Columbus Day they were short handed. It’s always something. It took about twenty minutes to get through the line, show our proper IDs, head down the escalator (ironically island music playing) make a right turn and roll our way to baggage carousel D. All the baggage areas were quite busy. We needed three bags to come off, hopefully all in one piece. Diane had one floral bag, easy to distinguish and I had two black Kenneth Cole bags. They looked like every other black bag. Diane’s bag and my largest one came around together and I pulled them off to the floor. I looked for my second bag but it refused to show. I walked around thinking that I might have missed it. A porter walked over with his handcart and asked if he could help. Diane said that we had not found all our bags yet. He suggested that I try the other carousels; they sometimes come down the wrong one. I did, but to no avail. I was just about to announce that I was sure it was lost and find a RCCL baggage agent when Diane spotted the bag. Relieved, I lifted it to the floor. Right then I decided that when we got home, one of the first things I was going to do was buy some gigantic bright neon tags for my bags. A large friendly porter with a full gray beard (the same porter who refused to accept Liras as his tip) asked to take our bags. I had already strapped my three together and Diane’s two and we were ready to roll. He said Man, don’t hurt your back now. I told him I could handle it just fine. I pulled the first bag onto its wheels and the other two followed. It is quite a sight actually. We had one more customs desk to go through, declared all our expensive vitamins which surprised him and we went out the exit to the bus terminal. I looked back at the ship, shrugged it off and rolled toward our bus. Diane was right behind me. We dropped off our luggage climbed aboard the bus and we were told by the driver it would be about fifteen minutes before we would leave. Diane and I both opened our books.
    Twenty minutes later, after some more passengers boarded we were off to the airport. Up the terminal ramp, our departure view of the Voyager running in reverse. Soon the ship and our trip were behind us. The bus arrived at Miami airport departures terminal. We sat while the entire luggage was being unloaded. I noticed that Quinn and Mary were on board the bus. Diane and I said hello and then goodbye, they looked tense, I guess they were squeaking it to their flight. We got off the bus and hitched up the bag train again. I saw an Avis bus and tried to flag it down, but it kept right on going. A security officer walked up and told us since 911 the buses will not pick up at departures only arrivals one floor down. He escorted us to a large elevator, pushed the button, we loaded up and headed down. Once the elevator opened we exited outside and saw our bus. I waved at it, it stopped, and we loaded on board. The bus drove us to the Avis rental center and dropped us off right in front of the counters. Diane tipped the driver and watched the luggage while I went in a rented our car. I had a reservation for something mid size like an Alero, but the agent saw our bags through the window and said we needed something larger, only six dollars more per day. Sounded good to me. I signed for a Buick Century (a grandpa car according to my son). She gave me directions to Melbourne and a good map and I went to get the car. It was in spot 188, I pulled it over by Diane and we loaded up. I could not get all the bags into the trunk; two went in the back seat. We got in the car, I familiarized myself with the location of the important controls for the radio, air (it had a temperature control for each seat) lights, wipers and such. Then we pulled up to the exit booth, handed the agent our contract, she scanned it and we were on the road.
    We had a two hour drive up I-90 to Melbourne. Diane called Jeri on her cell to let her know we were on our way. Soon we were passing through Fort Lauderdale, past the airport where our cruise began almost.
    Sometime later in some small town, we stopped at Burger King for lunch. It was not the Windjammer. By four that afternoon we pulled into Jeri’s driveway. The cruise was now officially over. We would spend two days with Jeri. We were staying at the Courtyard Marriott located close to her house. The next morning we planned to visit Downtown Disney and we would be flying out of Orlando at eight thirty Tuesday night. Right now though, I was tired, needed some dinner and I knew that there would be a ball game on later. As I said before one of the drawbacks to cruising in the fall is missing the playoffs. Being with Jeri and Mark, and watching the Angels play the Twins would help me a little to readjust to the real world.
    I hoped it would anyway.
    Derrick
  9. -Gramps-

    "Cruising" Day Three

    By -Gramps-,

    Reading this old blog makes me want to take another cruise. I'll settle for a long trip in the coach to somewhere really warm, like Tarpon Springs. Hopefully that should happen soon.
    Voyager of the Seas 10-06-2002 to 10-13-2002
    Part III Sunday: Departure, Dinner, enjoy the Night
    “I want to go to the Windjammer! I’m hungry!” I did not voice these thoughts out loud. Diane was on the balcony talking to Christine on her cell phone. “We are on board. Did not take too long to check in, the cabin is the same as last year, etc, etc.” As many of you already know the main topic of conversation on a cruise is cruising. That’s just the way it is. It will not change, so we just have to accept it. The subject changed to Nickolas, (Diane is his Mom and gets to spell his name any way she wants) our Cocker Spaniel. This could take awhile, so being that there was no luggage to unpack, I explored the cabin. Explored is too big a word. I checked out the cabin.
    First, I did the manly thing, found the remote and turned on the TV; My Big Fat Greek Wedding was on. I love that movie! (Diane is Greek). Second, I needed to do another manly thing. I opened the bathroom door. I stood there for a while and then pushed the big white button. The sound reminded me of a joke told by the Cruise Director on our Carnival Cruise. “In case of engine failure, the captain asks that all passengers please flush at the same time.”
    Guess you had to be there.
    Diane poked her head through the door and asked if I wanted to speak to Christine. (No, I want to eat) “Sure!” I stepped through the door and took the phone. I asked her if her husband managed to fix her car yet. She told me no, but he had towed it to our house and he knew what was wrong with it and she said that he should have it fixed before we returned. I was not going to hold my breath. I heard a funny bit of dialog from the movie. I told Christine to hold on, she had to hear this. I held the phone up to the TV and turned up the volume. The mother was giving the daughter the wedding night speech:
    “Toula, Toula, (Diane has a cousin named Toula) Greek women have responsibilities, we may be lambs in the kitchen but we are Tigers in the Bedroom!”
    Toula answers with “Eu! Please let that be the end of your speech.”
    “Did you hear that Diane? Greek women are tigers in the bedroom!”
    Diane responded with something to the effect of in your dreams and then took the phone from me.
    Christine must have given the phone to Joel, because the subject changed for a minute to that of cross country racing. “Well, are you okay with eighth place?” Joel had run in the College of William and Mary invitational the day before and finished eight out of two hundred and fifty runners. He wasn’t happy with his time of 15:30. (Yea, I’m bragging) I was glad he wasn’t happy, because I knew that meant he would reduce his time next race.
    There was another announcement about the boat drill in fifteen minutes.
    Darn, I know there is salmon up there in the Windjammer. Diane was back on the balcony, still in conversation. I grabbed my camera to take a few quick shots.
    There was a knock at the door. I opened it to find our cabin steward, (I know that the official title is cabin attendant, but old habits die hard), standing in the passageway with a very friendly smile on his face. I liked him immediately. “Hello Mr. Parker, my name is Collin and I will be looking after you and Mrs. Parker...” I read on his name tag that he was from Jamaica, of course I could tell that by his wonderful accent. He wanted to take a moment to explain a few things to me such as the laundry service, the safe, (what to do if you forget your code) the mini bar. The mini bar did not look the same as the one on Explorer; it had some funny looking flaps inside the front door. I pointed to the flaps and asked Collin if this thing makes ice. He looked at me with a “Cabin 1234 has another nice idiot sailing in it” expression and informed that little bottles of booze used to go there, but had to be removed because kids kept drinking them. He then told me how to reach room service and his hours and how to reach him. As he was leaving he gave me a big smile and said enjoy your cruise.
    Diane popped into the bathroom for a minute. She came out and asked “What are you waiting for? We need to go to lunch.” Like I did not know that already? We headed out of the cabin, with my sea pass in my pocket.
    We walked past the Egyptian artifacts in their display case turned right, right again and headed up the stairs to deck 11. We would discover that our cabin, when it came to getting to all the activities we wanted to do, was in the perfect location. We turned left out the sliding doors to the Solarium Pool and then made our way aft to the Windjammer. A very cheerful attendant handed us a hot plate and napkin wrapped utensils. Take the napkin and put it under the plate and hang on to it to save your hands from the heat. We got in line and immediately heard an announcement that the boat drill was being postponed due to late arrivals. The race was causing delays.
    Where is the salmon? I found a baked square, some curried lamb, and a small focaccia bread and turkey breast sandwich. Being so hungry I was somewhat impatient and got a little peeved when a young lady kept breaking in line in front of me refilling her dirty plate. She did do me the favor of telling me in accented English what was good.
    It was so late that we did not each much, because we had early seating, dinner was only about an hour away. We headed back to the cabin to get our life jackets and head to the pumpkin roundup.
    One of my bags and Diane’s bag were sitting by our door, I rolled them in, and noticed two folded terry cloth robes on the bed. I was pleased with that surprise. A couple of weeks before the cruise I had tried to order two waffle robes and was told they were no longer for sale. I did not want to buy the velour robes because of the amount of baggage space it would require to take them home. (I’m lying, I was just too cheap.) One of the robes had a bright Royal Caribbean logo on it, the other was quite faded, an easy way to tell them apart. There were also two large, thick brown towels with a note on them. I helped Diane strap on her life jacket, I put on mine and we were off to Cleopatra’s Needle on Deck 5.
    I will not go into much detail about the mandatory boat drill. We answered the roll call, being taken by Shelby the shopping coordinator, a pretty lady with large dark glasses and told her we were in cabin 1234. “That’s a good number, wait you are the Parkers, Happy anniversary.” We said thanks and she said we would be getting a note from her. We half listened to the drill instructions; Diane was looking over our Crown and Anchor discount coupons for stuff on the ship. I was wondering how anyone who did not speak English had any idea what was going on and I was also resisting the temptation to spit on my lifejacket’s water activated beacon. (Most likely my spit did not have a high enough salt content to work.) I knew enough not to touch the whistle. I found the boat drill klaxon most annoying. Soon it was all over and we snicked off our jackets, folded them up neatly and went back to our cabin. Walking through the Royal Promenade for the first time, we heard an announcement that due to the race in Miami causing so many late boardings, our departure would be after 6 pm.
    Waiting by the door of our cabin were two bags, one of them mine. I rolled it in, and we commenced to unpacking. We found it easier to do it in shifts so we would not constantly bump into each other. Diane went first, and I hoped that there would be some drawers left for me. There is surprisingly, plenty of storage space in the cabins. I took the right top shelf over the safe for shorts and tees. Diane did the same with the shelf just underneath. A short shelf under the safe is where we stored all the Compasses and other papers that we wanted to keep. Diane put socks, small clothing items, belts, etc in the drawers to the left of the desk; I did the same on the right. I put all my watches in the left night stand. Suits and dresses went in the closet that contained plenty of hangers. We put shoes on the floor, and some pullover shirts and such on the shelves to the right inside the closet. I stuffed all the empty bags inside of each other and pushed them under the bed. Camera and water shoes went on the curved shelves on the end of the cabinet. Small personal items went into the cabinets on either side of the mirror. The storage arrangement seems to be the same for the three RCCL ships that we have been on. No sharp corners, no protruding knobs. The inside closet door is bi-folded to get around it easier. There was one cabinet, left of the mirror, in the bathroom with room for all our bathroom things. The one inconvenience was the lack of an electrical outlet in the bathroom that will accept a hair dryer. Diane does not find the provided dryer to be adequate.
    While we were unpacking Collin came by to see if we had received all of our bags. Happily we said yes. We finished putting everything away. Diane did not want to change for dinner. She told me this as I was slipping on my suit pants. “Is that what you are going to wear?” she asked. I looked at her sitting on the couch making no move to change and answered no. I then put on some casual slacks and a rayon print shirt, my brown tassels, my new watch and we headed for the dining room. Outside was the other bag, sitting there all by itself. I took a look at the tag and it said 7234. Oops. I went back in and called that cabin but no answer. Diane spotted Collin down the passageway so she went and told him. He came and got the bag. Our good deed for the day was now done.
    Once again we took the stairs down to deck 5. We entered the Royal Promenade at the Café Promenade end. I noticed that the lighting and decor was bit more glitzy than that on the Explorer. Also a large bar stuck out in to the Promenade. I discovered later it could be difficult to maneuver by when the Promenade was crowded. We continued to the aft end and entered the Magic Flute dining room. Our table for ten, number 518, was off to the left in a corner formed by an inside wall and the window. We saw one couple sitting there. No one else would arrive tonight.
    We sat down and introduced ourselves. Wanich, our waiter from Thailand, was right there. Our assistant waiter was Joseph. We ordered dinner; main course was baked cod, and a couple of glasses of wine. When signing for the wine, I asked to change it to the wine and dine package. Wanich was happy to oblige. We ordered a Woodbridge Blush.
    Our tablemates were a little older than us, Mike and his wife Betty, from Boston. He was a CPA and they also owned a travel agency. This was cruise number 55. I am sure you have already gathered what the main topic of conversation was.
    Joseph poured our wine and we ordered dinner. This is where things get a little fuzzy. I don’t remember what I had every night; I quit keeping notes after the first night. So I can tell you this, all the menu items that Diane and I ordered were very good. No complaints at all. I usually ordered appetizer and the soup, salad, entrée and one dessert. Diane sometimes added the soup. We almost always went with Wanich’s recommendations. In other words, dinner was good and the service was excellent, friendly and fast.
    Diane and I were in pretty good spirits. We had a good meal, watched Miami slip away through the window. We had dined, now it was time to dance.
    We had some time to kill before the show so we visited some of the shops. I noticed that Sprinkles Ice Cream was not open yet and would not be for quite some time. We walked down to deck 4 and entered the theatre for the Welcome Aboard Show. Jeffrey Arpin, our cruise director could be quite funny and was more relaxed and natural than any of our previous Cruise Directors.
    The singers and dancers were at the first show, but I don’t remember them, I do remember Dan Wilson the starring comedian, and the acrobatics of “Duo Claudio” which were pretty amazing.
    After the show we went outside on deck 4 for a private stroll to the helipad observation point where we stared at the millions of stars, looked at each other, smooched for a while and did the “King of the World” on the bow of the ship. We didn’t climb up on the railing (it is angled inward to stop that) but it was still fun. The wind started to make Diane’s eyes tear up so we decided to visit the spa. Unlike previous cruises we wanted to make good use of that facility. So we made the climb up the stairs to deck 12. Once there we signed up for a couple’s massage class for the coming Wednesday and Diane went on the cancellation list for a Seaweed treatment on Saturday. The Sea days book up quick. We took a quick look around and headed back to deck 5.
    Time is not the same on a cruise as it is at home. It plays tricks on you out there. We went dancing in Cleopatra’s Needle and it was over before we knew it. We saw the crowd start to gather for the Bon Voyage parade which did not interest me due to the fact I do not like standing in the middle of a large standing crowd. We watched a few minutes of it from our deck. Sometime after eleven pm we called it a day headed back to our cabin, got ready for bed, put on our robes and visited the balcony. We watched and listened to the luminous sea, for awhile anyway.
    Derrick
  10. -Gramps-

    "Cruising" Day Two

    By -Gramps-,

    A lot of things have changed in the last nine and a half years. A couple of divorces (that should explain the name changes in my story) kids have moved out, dogs have passed away. Diane and I are getting closer to our fortieth anniversary. If, on that occasion, we were to take another sea cruise, which is doubtful, because we prefer to land cruise, I would hope it would be as good as our last one.
    Voyager of the Seas 10-06-2002 to 10-13-2002
    Part II Saturday: South Beach, Swatches, Kids, Embarkation
    “The most beautiful stones have been tossed by the wind and washed by the waters and polished to brilliance by life’s strongest storms”
    The mattress was excellent. Diane’s backside and calf was a bit tight from the flight so I took an elbow to her rump and pressed hard, very hard until the nerve let go. Pressure to relieve pain. I also used my thumbs on her right calf until that knot loosened up. She informed me that it now felt better so we went down to the Seabreeze Café located past the pool on the ocean side of the hotel. The café is a cheerful place with a live steel drum player. He accompanied himself with synthesized music that sounded good. We seated ourselves, and a waiter in a tropical shirt and shorts, was at our elbows in a flash. I ordered my first Corona and a blackened Mahi-Mahi sandwich. Diane ordered water and the same. We did not talk much. We sat there and just looked at each other. I sipped my beer and thought of the commercial where the guy skips his pager into the ocean. I like that spot a lot. It was filmed on Paradise Beach in Cozumel by the way. The ocean was beautiful. Between the café and the sand was a hedge of very unusual flowering foliage. Butterflies flew from flower to flower. Diane mentioned that we could get up in the morning and watch the Explorer come into port. I said that would be nice. Our sandwiches arrived in their baskets with lots of fries and mango and black bean salsa. They were large sandwiches and very good. I ate mine and my fries and most of Diane’s fries as well. We are on the Zone diet plan and potatoes are not on the favorable list of things to eat, but I was on vacation so what the heck. I took that attitude a lot during the next week.
    We skipped dessert, signed our bill, showed our hotel card and headed back up to the room to change into our swim suits. I put on by red Speedos and Diane put on her black tankini with the blue, green and yellow flowers. She looked great. Before you get the wrong picture in your head my Speedos are baggy shorts. We checked out two towels, hit the beach and found two chaise lounges to fall into. Diane opened her book; I did the same:
    Chapter Five of the Lovely Bones
    Part of me wished swift vengeance, wanted my father to turn into the man he could have been-a man violent in rage. That’s what you see in movies, that’s what happens in the books people read. An everyman takes a gun or a knife and stalks the murderer of his family, he does a Bronson on them and everyone cheers.
    What is was really like:
    Everyday he got up. Before sleep wore off, he was the man he used to be. Then, as his consciousness woke, it was if poison seeped in. At first he couldn’t even get up. He lay there under a heavy weight. But then only movement could save him, and he moved and he moved and he moved, no movement being enough to make up for it. The guilt on him, the hand of God pressing down on him, saying, “You were not there when you daughter needed you”.
    The book touched me but at times I found it too heavy, I found it to be in some ways too close to home. I fell asleep. Sometime around four thirty the beach attendant told us he needed to collect and stack the chairs for the day. He gave us about another thirty minutes, and we had to get up. I didn’t want to; I was having dreamless sleep, and the best kind of sleep it is. Diane wanted to walk, feel her toes in the sand and the waves. We set off north, walking and collecting shells. We did not say much, mostly listened to the sound of the small waves and people watched. There were not many people, but a lot more than the year before. I could not get over how many people, particularly the girls, felt it necessary to talk on their cell phones. I left mine at home; Diane brought hers, but rarely used it. We walked a bit more then headed up to the pool for a quick dip.
    We were sitting around the pool when a very beautiful but not quite real looking young lady walked by. A better term would be she strutted by. She was wearing a very small yellow bikini top and an orange sarong. This muscular guy was hanging all over her. The two of them turned everybody’s heads.
    He sure likes her, Diane said. I replied he probably paid for them, and likes his investment.
    Around five thirty Diane said she wanted to get ready for dinner. That sounded good to me so back up to the room we went. The brown marbled lower lobby of the hotel was like a refrigerator after being out in the sun, but it felt good. Once in the room, Diane hit the foot deep square shower with the marble bench and it's strange backwards turning knobs and I sat on the floor in my damp swim suit and turned on the ball game. I am a baseball fanatic and missing the playoffs is the only drawback to cruising in the fall. I think it was game three between the Yankees and the Angels. My team, the D’Backs was already gone so I watched the game rather impartially (not really, I wanted the Angels to win). I soon fell asleep on the floor. I love napping during a baseball game. Diane finished her shower and with one cute foot poked me until I woke. I took a quick shower, put on some dress slacks, a print shirt, Brutini loafers and down to dinner we went. We wanted to sit outside again and were surprised to see that it was raining. We stood in a glass walled lounge called the Ocean Room and noticed waiters rolling tables through the door from outside. A rehearsal dinner for a very large wedding was being rained out. In about a minute there was a break in the rain so we made a run for the Seabreeze Café. We reached it only to be told that it was closed for a private party. Well, where do we eat now? The lady bartender told us the Hibiscus restaurant inside also serves light fare so we walked back in. On the way back in we passed the yellow bikini and muscle couple still intertwined, orange sarong and all. Diane commented that he was getting his money’s worth.
    We sat down in the almost empty restaurant and took a look at the menu. I have traveled a bit and I am usually suspect of most hotel restaurants. I think they tend to be overpriced and not that good. That is one of the reasons we cruise. The food on a cruise ship is a much better value than you can get in most resort hotels. Tonight, however, would be an exception to my rule. Diane ordered the Shrimp Caesar Salad and I ordered the Jerked Spiced Churrasco Steak. It came with green beans and garlic mashed potatoes. When they brought it out it was about nine inches long by three wide and thin like a flank steak or London boil. Now I grill a lot of steaks, and do it well so I tend to be critical. This steak was great. The best one I have ever had on the road, period. The steak was juicy, tender, and spicy with a garlic and parsley pesto sauce on top, delicious! I took about three lovely bites and realized that the steak was folded in half lengthwise. The thing was eighteen inches long. There must have been a pound of steak on my plate. I saw how many shrimp Diane had in her salad and she at the same time said she needed more protein so a large piece of my steak went on her plate. That still left a lot. I asked the waiter if the steak was supposed to be this big, maybe the chef made a mistake? No sir, enjoy it. I did.
    About this time our daughter Jeri and her husband Mark came into the restaurant. They drove down from Melbourne to spend the weekend with us.
    We were very glad to see them. Jeri looked at my steak. I gave her a bite or two; they were not ordering having eaten on the way down. We chit chatted for awhile mostly about Jeri’s job as a registered nurse and made plans for the next day. I commented on the view from the air, all the large houses built right on a bunch of small winding rivers. She informed me that all bodies of water have their own private alligator in them. That reminded me of a story I saw on the news about a grandfather who got bit in the face saving his grandson from an alligator. I said I knew Diane would do the same for Nickolas (her Cocker Spaniel). I knew she would do the same for me. Jeri partially disagreed; she said Mom would feel sorry for the alligator. I would make lousy alligator bait because I am so boney. She said Diane would ask the alligator if he wanted some butter with that, it might make me easier to swallow.
    I signed for dinner. We went to the lower lobby that had some shops and an arcade. We window shopped and then we played a few games of air hockey. We decided to call it an early night so we could hit Lincoln Road in the morning.
    Our rooms were both on the twelfth floor so we said good night. Diane and I hit the bed right away. The early morning hours finally caught up with us. Diane curled up with her book instead of with me. I tried to read, but could not concentrate so I turned on the TV and tuned into the end of another playoff game. I watched about five minutes and turned it off and myself as well.
    The next morning we were both up bright and early. I pulled back the curtains and sure enough there was the Explorer of the Seas there in the distance. The phone rang. It was some kind of fancy two line cordless that did not work well and we had to answer the call on the speakerphone. Jeri was calling to say Let’s Go! I yelled: we will call you back as soon as we are dressed. She yelled back: Are you naked? I yelled: it is none of your business.
    Diane put on white Capri pants with a black tank top and I put on white shorts and a black rayon Liz Claiborne for men tee shirt. For some reason in our old age Diane and I seem to dress in like colors a lot. We don’t plan it that way, not all the time. One of the benefits is, if we become separated while shopping or something, I can remember what she is wearing by looking at me and then find her.
    We called Jeri, she and Mark came down the hall to our room. It was wet outside from a sudden rainstorm and Diane decided to wear her misfit tennis shoes instead of her good sandals. Jeri took a look at her shoes and discovered that one shoe was a size 8 ½ women’s and the other one a size 8 ½ man’s. Well, I tried. We were now going to have to find a shoe store.
    We took the elevator down to breakfast in the main restaurant. The place was packed due to a wedding and some kind of convention that was taking place that day. We had coupons for a free breakfast, since it was included in our RCC package. We went with the buffet, which looked quite substantial. I needed grazing practice for the coming week. The buffet had lots of pastries, eggs, an omelet station, crepes, fresh made waffles, smoothies, and all kinds of fruit with the exception of prunes! Orange Juice and coffee were also included. We ate well, looked out the window at the rain and hoped that the blue sky off in the distance would come our way. Mark, who is a big eater, loved the breakfast and got his money’s worth, or should I say my moneys worth.
    After we finished eating Jeri and Diane wanted to go upstairs for a last minute make up session and grab their purses. I had my camera with me and wanted to take some pictures. I asked Diane to grab an extra roll of film.
    They left for upstairs and I said I would meet them in the main lobby. I went up there to take pictures of a very beautiful room. It was huge with columns all around and a beautiful mural painted on the ceiling. It was being decorated for a wedding reception. While I was taking pictures an attractive young lady in a wedding gown escorted by an older man in a nice tuxedo came through the lobby and went to a waiting white Rolls Royce limousine. Nice. I said a quick prayer to myself asking God to bless her and make it work. Diane called to me, we went outside and the Valet retrieved Jeri’s black Accord LX Coupe. The driver commented how nice the car was. Hey, I don’t co-sign for no junk!
    We headed down Collins to the Lincoln Road Mall.
    Now I am sure that many of you are reading this and thinking to yourself; “when is this guy going to write about the cruise?!”
    My response is that a cruise is a lot more than just the time you spend on the ship. It’s about the thinking about it and the planning, the getting there, the leaving, and remembering it. The joy for me is in the details. Details are the spices that make a cruise taste better. Just hang in there; we do make it on to the ship.
    We parked the Honda in a garage at the Corner of Lincoln something not far from Washington. The rain stopped and the hot Florida sun came out. We had walked about a block when Diane spotted a Foot Locker store and the hunt for new shoes was on. There was a buy one pair and get the second half off sale taking place so Jeri and Diane decided to team up. They both found shoes and I then discovered that I had forgotten my credit card. Oops. Jeri had to buy her Mom shoes for a change. I found some strange running shoes with split toes. I could not imagine Joel, my son the champion cross country runner, wearing those things. I took a picture of Jeri and Mark holding them.
    For the rest of the afternoon we walked, talked, and shopped. We went up one side of the mall and down the other. I finally broke down and bought something. I collect watches, wrist and pocket. I guess in some way I must think that if I own a lot of timepieces that I have more time. No, I just like watches like some people like rings or shoes or whatever. I bought (with Jeri’s credit card) a very nice chronograph in the Swatch Store. It is a special edition 007 Goldfinger watch, made to recognize the 40th anniversary of the Bond movies. It is very cool.
    We had lunch at the Nexxt Restaurant and Bistro. My son says that gourmet food is small portions artfully arranged. Not at this place. They put a lot more food on the plate than a normal human can eat at one time. I had an Indochine Salad that was out of this world. Pulled chicken with fresh spinach and romaine with mandarin oranges, all sandwiched between tasty tortilla shells. This Salad is best eaten with a Corona in a big frosty mug.
    We filled up and then headed back to the Wyndham for an afternoon lounge around the pool. When we walked into the lobby, loud and exotic music was coming out of the columned banquet room, the wedding reception was in full swing. It looked beautiful.
    We swam, we talked, and Mark and Jeri demonstrated some of their swing dancing moves in the pool. They are pretty good. Diane and I have now made that one of our two goals for our next cruise. To swing dance and look like we know what we are doing would be nice. The other goal is to learn how to scuba dive.
    It started to cool off so we went for a long walk down the boardwalk past the world famous Fontainebleau Hotel and a bunch of other places, turned around and walked back up the beach. We then hit the showers and agreed to meet in the Seabreeze Café for dinner.
    We had Cuban Sandwiches and other things that I don’t remember. The main topic of conversation was getting to the ship in the morning. Around ten pm we called it a night and left the café.
    We woke early. It was a beautiful day. Not a cloud in the sky. I took a gander through the window. In front of the Miami skyline, I could see our ship the Voyager of the Seas. I found myself starting to get anxious to be aboard. This would be cruise number five and I still felt the same excitement. Diane dressed in the bathroom while I threw on a fresh pair off white linen shorts and a sea blue rayon tee shirt (I bought four of them at eight dollars apiece, they retailed for thirty five dollars each). Diane came out of the bathroom wearing a short white jean skirt and a crinkly sky blue top. We stared at each other for a second; Diane shook her head, picked up the phone and called Jeri’s room. A few seconds later, Jeri and Mark knocked on the door. Jeri said don’t you two look cute. Diane said it was just a coincidence not a plan, let’s eat. It was now around eight forty five. We headed for breakfast, with the coupons for payment, which I forgot the morning before. Breakfast was the same except for fresh apple strudel instead of crepes. On the way to the restaurant I stopped by the front desk to ask what time our bus would be arriving. We were told that it would be one or one thirty. I was hoping to get to the terminal earlier, but it was no big deal, not yet anyway.
    We finished breakfast, and confirmed our plans to drive to Melbourne the day the ship returned. We planed to see Mark and Jeri’s new house and maybe drive to Downtown Disney or something to that effect.
    We headed back upstairs to pack up and chill in the room until noon which was checkout time. Our kids said their goodbyes, made hugs all around, said have a great time and then left. It was now around ten and housekeeping started knocking on the door. We told them we would be leaving at checkout time. We tried to sit and read, for about an hour, while the sea breeze wafted through the big window. I kept looking at the ship. Come to me she seemed to be saying, Come to me. I could not stand it any longer. Make your last pit stop, I cried. It is time to go! Diane had just enough time to flush and apply lipstick while I hitched all the baggage together. We pulled the train out into the hall. I punched the down button.
    The elevator was slow and when it finally opened it was full of people. I told Diane to take her bags down; I would wait for the next one. It was a few minutes later before another door opened and it was going up. A hotel staff member was on board with a bowl of lemon slices. He said get on, ride it up and then go down. I complied. I finally reached the lobby, gave a mighty shove to my three bags, picked up Diane and headed to the front desk. The lobby had quite a few bags in it, some with Grand Princess Tags, and some with the green VY tags on them. The Princess tags surprised me because I thought that ship left from Fort Lauderdale. There were some bags on a cart with blue tags, with the Voyager of the Seas handwritten on them.
    We checked out and then found a couch to sit on because there was still about ninety minutes to wait. We sat for awhile. We moved to a seat closer to the door. We saw a group of people speaking Italian head outside with the cart of bags and the handwritten tags. A couple with a cart of bags with the green VY tags, followed. I decided that outside looked good to me too.
    I hauled the bags down the stairs; a couple of valets saw me and took over. Diane and I started our bus vigil on the stairs. Diane moved to a bench in the sun. Where is the bus? Where is the bus? It was now past one fifteen. One of the Italian men examined the VY tag on one of my wife’s bags and reported something to his group and a discussion ensued. I do not know what it was about. I did notice that one the female members of the group was wearing velour slacks with multicolored horizontal stripes and the weirdest pair of white clogs I had ever seen, they looked like small flotation devices.
    The man with the VY tags came over to me and informed me that his wife had called the shuttle service and found out the bus was running behind because downtown Miami had fourteen streets closed due to a Monte Carlo style car race. There were 200,000 spectators watching it. He thought it would take us hours to get to the terminal. This was not news that I wanted to hear.
    At two fifteen the bus arrived. The driver was someone I recognized. She drove us from the terminal to the Eden Roc Hotel after our cruise the year before. I knew we were in good hands. The first thing she wanted to know was where were we at eleven that morning? Eleven! All who spoke English exclaimed that we did not know. Too bad, she said. I took a deep breath told myself to forget about it, or maybe it was Diane who told me to take a deep breath and forget about it. Okay, we are on our way now.
    Twenty minutes later we were heading down the ramp to the terminal, the ship filling up our vision. We had passed a few fenced in streets and I thought I could hear racing engines but nothing delayed us. I had forgotten just how big the Eagle class ships are. The NCL and Carnival ships looked small next to the Voyager. We waited for the driver to unload, found ourselves a porter, one of which was arguing with the Italians because they tried to tip him in Liras. This ain’t Rome! He told them. We gave the driver and a porter some good ole American dollars, grabbed our carryons and headed into the terminal.
    We flashed our ID’s when necessary, headed up the escalator and found a large group of people sitting in front of three x-ray machines. We formed a line and waited for enough people to leave the chairs and then we took their place. I was watching my watch. Diane was being cool. I think it was about a half hour before we took our place in line at the machines. I remember that there were a lot of apologies for delays etc, etc. We had filled our documents out online so at least we did not have to worry about the pink forms.
    It took about five minutes to go through security, without a hitch, (I was not wearing Rockports). We walked into the check in room to find a very long and winding line. Everybody automatically queued up in it. I estimated that the line contained 400 people. Not good. I stood there for awhile and then walked over to a security officer and informed her that we had already filled out our documents. I showed her the printed confirmation. She pointed to her right and said go to the end to the Terminal Coordinator’s desk, it is a much shorter line. We rolled down to the correct desk and Glory; there were five people in line. Five minutes later we handed our paperwork and our credit card to the Agent, she took about one minute, said Welcome back, enjoy your cruise, handed us our Sea Pass cards, cabin number 1234. We flashed our cards to a security officer at the foot of the escalator located just in front of the Terminal Coordinator’s desk and up we went. At the top another dual line for Sea Pass security, the up your nose with a fat neck picture (the officer politely removed Diane’s hat because her hands were full) and then the, stand on that line, Hug her and smile picture.
    We rolled into the ship, saw twenty people queue up for the first set of elevators; we went around them to the ones on the other side, two people there, an up elevator opened, in we went and punched the button for Deck 10. The glass elevator went up and so did my spirits. The ship looked great. We crossed the ship to the starboard side into the cabin passageway and rolled our way forward to cabin 1234. Card in the lock, open the door.
    We made it. We gave each other a big hug and stepped out on the balcony. We were looking at the container terminals and as far as I was concerned the view was fantastic. We heard an announcement that we could not make out, so I stepped back in and turned up the cabin speaker. We had thirty minutes to grab lunch before the life boat drill. The cruise had now officially begun. Time to hit the Windjammer cafe.
    Derrick
  11. -Gramps-

    25 Years Ago, Part 2

    By -Gramps-,

    I wrote the story about Wayne two or three years ago, maybe longer. I don't really remember when I wrote it to tell you the truth. I wrote it in response to a young lady who was a member of a Medal of Honor online gaming clan who posted a request for prayer on our clan forums. Her fiance had just been killed in a car accident and she was devastated. The story was originally addressed to her. Shannon was her name. For the most part that was the end of it until two days ago. That was when I got the urge to post it on my FMCA blog. Which I did, yesterday afternoon just before Diane and I left for a local church event.
    It's funny how things work out sometimes..
    Twenty Five Years Ago, This Month, Part Two.
    As of last night there is a definite connection between being a coach owner and what happened twenty five years ago. Twenty five years ago the 24th of this month to be exact.
    A week or so ago Janis and Gary our twin coach owners invited us to a special event at their church. It is a walk through play called Judgment House. This is a nationally sponsored play that takes place in many churches around the nation, but the subject of the play usually is based on some local tragic event. This event is used to illustrate and dramatize the final consequences of the choices, some good and some bad, that people make. We agreed to attend one of the performances of this play. I did not know much of anything about this play until the day we went, yesterday, last night to be exact.
    The subject of this drama was a bit of a shock to me.
    The play was called the Arlene Jones Story.
    This was the same Arlene that was my friend Wayne's girlfriend and fiance.
    Not knowing what to expect, I was not sure I could watch it all. I decided, since I try not to believe in coincidences, that for some reason, it was meant for me to see this play, so I made up my mind, took a deep breath and drove us to the church where we were met by Gary in the parking lot at about 4:45 in the afternoon. He took us into the staging area, the church gymnasium, and it was packed. I had heard that due to a wave of word of mouth that as many as 1400 to 1500 people were waiting to see the performance each night.
    I didn't think anybody even remembered the event. I had tried to forget it. But here I was, standing in line and a few minutes later, sitting in the middle of a church gym, feeling a bit uncomfortable, waiting with Diane and Gary in a crowd of chatting people, none of whom I knew at all, for our names to be called and then to observe a reenactment of what I thought was a completely senseless, and meaningless event. An event that cost me a good friend and, my first business.
    After a few minutes of just sitting there, with my left leg bouncing nervously, I began to feel uncomfortable, a lot. I started looking for the closest exit..just in case I needed it.
    We had some time to wait, so Diane and Gary got up to buy some popcorn at a concession stand in the back of the gym. This was the perfect time for me to make a dash for it. To leave this play before the memories that might come flooding back caused me to squirm, over heat, be ill, maybe even throw up or worse yet have a big nasty panic attack (and I have had them before), which would really make me do all the above.
    I didn't leave; instead I got up and moved to the back row, and sat down next to a man a bit younger than myself, with a name tag on, who was engaged in a rather animated conversation, and waited for a chance to introduce myself.
    While standing in line to sign up for the play I had overheard a conversation between one of the staffers and one of the attendees. From that conversation I learned that the son of Arlene was sitting in the back of the gym. His name was OC and now I was sitting next to him.
    It became apparent that, reluctantly for him, he was now a bit of a church celebrity. Ladies of the church both young and old kept coming up and introducing themselves. I patiently waited for a chance to tell him who I was.
    He turned to me and I put out my hand and told him that I was Derrick Parker, that I knew his mother and that Wayne had worked with me. He looked very surprised. We, with some two or three interruptions, had a short but extremely important conversation. Details that I had heard over the years, some big, some not, were verified, some corrected. I told OC things he didn't know and he did the same for me.
    I learned that the killer only killed himself after accidentally wounding himself with his own ricochet bullets from the fireplace in the living room. Once he knew he could not catch the boys, and escape from the scene, he finished himself off. OC learned that I had seen his Mom just a few days before at the trade show, and that I had tried to get Wayne to bring her to dinner on the night that they were both killed. His response was it just wasn't in the cards for them to live.
    I think then I realized that we both had been hurt, were still hurting...a lot more than we, or maybe just me, knew.
    OC told me that he would still be there after I went through the play and to come see him if I wanted to talk some more. I responded "okay".
    I wasn't sure that I would talk to him again. I wasn't sure I could even make it through the play.
    But I did.
    I don't think I can describe it that well for you. If I was an official theater critic, I could tell you that the play was a bit amateurish at times. I could tell you the concept of walking from room to room and seeing various scenes of Arlene's life and death play out, even the graphic ones, were interesting and effective, but for me it was not at all about how well the scenery and props looked or how well the actors performed. For me it was about something going on inside of me.
    I was watching the play, but I was also somewhere else at the same time. I was back in my office on the last day that I saw Wayne alive, or I was back in my kitchen when I got the terrible phone call, or I was in my car, miserably driving to an appointment that Wayne should have been keeping.
    At the end of the play is a scene of Heaven and of ****.I remembered my own private **** that I was in after Wayne's death and it was then I realized I had never really left it.
    I also realized the loss of Mike had only made it worse.
    I walked out of the last room, the last scene of the play and while my wife waited in the car, I went to find OC.
    I found him standing along the side of the gym, up against the wall, surrounded by a bunch of young ladies. Once again I waited patiently for a chance to speak to him.
    "What did you think?" he asked.
    "I think your Mother and Wayne would both have approved" I responded. "They would have appreciated some good coming out of that night."
    And then I said something I didn't mean to say.
    "Because Lord knows I haven't seen any good before now"
    OC looked hard at me, and then leaned in closer.
    "I haven't either, not for twenty five years, not until this week."
    Then I told him about losing Mike. That this was my second time losing a friend and partner.
    Then he wrapped his arms around me and said "Maybe this will give you some closure. It finally has, for me."
    He was only fifteen when he lost his Mom and the man that would have become his step father. He loved them both. Years before that he lost his father and yet now he could hug me and hope that I would finally be healed of my hurt. His concern for me broke my heart.
    He let go. I stood there with tears in my eyes. I could hardly speak but I managed to give him my card and said I would like to keep in touch.
    "That would be great, how about we go to lunch and just talk sometime? Would you like that?"
    "Oh yea, I really would."
    Then he was once again surrounded by others and I quietly walked to the car. I asked Diane to drive us to dinner, where we had a quiet conversation over soup and sandwich. I hate to admit it to my Baptist friends but I really wanted a beer.
    It was during dinner and over a short draft, that I realized a long string of events had led up to this moment. It started with a purchase of a Bounder that had a simple brake failure that led to a test drive that led to buying a particular coach, that led to a nice married couple contacting us with questions about the same coach, which led to a friendship that helped with one recent loss, and now...
    Now I realized that God had orchestrated something bigger; he used my RV and the RV world to provide the means to have many friends, but two in particular named Gary and Janis who without knowing it, were used by Him to open a scarred over twenty five year old wound that had never really had the chance to heal....until now.
    Now faith renews and the healing begins.
    Derrick
  12. -Gramps-
    This blog entry doesn't have anything to do with the motor coaching lifestyle. Not directly, anyway. But the event does have a lot to do with how much I appreciate the friends that RVing has provided to my wife and I. Friends who have helped me get through the loss that I wrote about in The Course of Dreams. That story was about the second time I lost a close friend.
    This story is about the first.
    WAYNE
    In the summer of 1984 I moved my start-up small business out of my home into a small office in a really neat old building in downtown Norfolk, Virginia. I had a secretary, a salesman, and one installer -- me. My salesman was not giving the business much attention, and as a result was not very successful. I needed an additional person to spark a little competition.
    One fall day I was talking about this problem with the pastor of our church. He was familiar with my dilemma and my business because my current salesman also attended the church and the pastor also worked with me on large installation jobs. He suggested that I talk to a new member of the church named Wayne.
    "Wayne?" I said. "He retired from the Coast Guard; I don't think he knows anything about selling phones."
    My pastor assured me that Wayne could learn. I was not so sure. Wayne just did not fit the mold of the typical telecommunications salesperson. He was short, bald, with a full gray beard and most of the time wore all black clothes and sandals to church. He seemed like he was some kind of ex hippie to me.
    "What do you have to lose?" said Pastor.
    "Nothing except a lot of time and energy" I responded. But I agreed to talk to Wayne.
    Wayne had to retire on medical disability due to liver problems. I think he may have caught hepatitis at some point and he also at one time had a drinking problem. He was a Master Chief and the CO of a Coast Guard cutter, so he had some leadership skills, or so the Pastor kept telling me. I just needed someone who could help me; it sounded like the pastor wanted me to help him. I was not thrilled with the whole idea.
    I talked to Wayne after church one fateful Wednesday night. He told me that he wanted no salary or draw, that he would work on straight commission and he would learn the phone business. He was all smiles and seemed excited about working for me. Someone excited -- that would be a change in itself. I agreed to give it a try. Wayne would start the next Monday. I hoped he would at least show up with shoes and socks on.
    I did not see Wayne in church on Sunday. I don't remember if he was not there or if I was working. On Monday morning when he showed up at the office with a haircut, trimmed beard, dark suit, starched white shirt and tie and carrying a new brief case complete with gold name plate, I was completely shocked.
    "Where is my desk?" was his first question. I showed him one of the large computer tables that we used as desks in the back office. He wanted some documentation and brochures on the equipment that we sold so he could learn it. He sat down and started studying and about four hours later asked if we could chat for a couple of minutes. He told me he wanted to go out with me for a few days and see my customers, ask for referrals, and he wanted me to go on his first appointments with him. No problem. He also said that since I was one of the owners of the company that I should dress the part.
    "What?"
    "You can't go on sales appointments with me in jeans and work shoes; you need to keep some dress clothes here in the office that you can change into when I need you."
    I was trying to figure out where I lost control. I was worried about his dress and now he is telling me that I needed to change mine. This was getting weird. But it was obvious that the Wayne I knew in church was not the Wayne sitting here in my office.
    "If you need help shopping, we can go together."
    "I think I can handle it."
    "Good, a nice sports coat, dress shirts -- they don't have to be white -- some sporty ties and nice shoes should do it."
    I got over my shock and, I hate to say it, my resentment, and took his advice.
    We started to work together as a team. Wayne figured it would take a couple of months to get rolling and he was willing to foot his own bills and that is just what he did. We had lots of evening conversations as I helped him configure systems and taught him what was best for each of his prospects. He eagerly learned. We went to conventions together, and his prospect list started to grow. Bill, my original salesman, also perked up and started selling a bit more. Things started to look up.
    During this time I learned more about Wayne. He used to be a partying man. He was a good Coastie, but a bad husband until he became a Christian and started attending our church. Unfortunately, his wife did not like the new Wayne, a more patient guy who did not drink or swear or smoke, so she left him. She took their teenage son and moved to Florida. Wayne was still in touch with them and it was his son who bought him his brief case.
    Wayne kept generating leads and keeping appointments, but after a few weeks I could see that Wayne wanted to reel in his first sale. He was getting anxious and wanted to make something happen. It did not matter if it was big or small.
    It was small. But to Wayne the first one was big. After six weeks he sold a system to a small auto repair place that needed four phones. We would be installing it in a couple of weeks.
    During the two weeks, we started to plan our own trade show in cooperation with a wholesale food distributor whose owners (one being my brother) were the partners in my business. Hotel and restaurant people would be attending. There would be lots of food, and cooking demonstrations from Johnson and Wales University. The manufacturer of our phones sent Doug Stewart, a great factory representative, to work with us. It was a formal affair. The three of us looked sharp in our black tuxes and red cummerbunds. The evening was a great success. During the next two weeks Wayne talked to two major hotels and was sure that he would sell them, too.
    I realized that I had found a very good salesperson who also was now my friend, and I knew that I would soon officially offer him a partnership.
    The day came to install Wayne's sale. He helped me put it in, we trained the staff and they wrote a check for the system. Back in the office I wrote Wayne his first commission check. It was not that much.
    "Well, its small but it will pay for the gas to keep on going." Wayne said.
    I invited him over for dinner with Diane and I, but he declined, saying he was not feeling so well, his medication was not agreeing with him. He thought he would see Arlene that evening. She was a nice lady whose husband had been killed in Vietnam and she and Wayne had recently discovered each other.
    "That crazy ex real estate partner of hers has been calling and making a jerk of himself the last few days," Wayne said. "She's upset about it, so I'm going to go over to her place."
    For some reason I felt strongly that he should come to dinner with me, so I insisted he invite Arlene, but he declined. I became very uneasy and could not understand why.
    That night was an untypical sub freezing cold October night and very late when the phone rang. It was Bill calling me.
    "Derrick, are you awake?" he said.
    "Yes, what's going on?"
    "Derrick, Wayne is dead."
    There was a long pause while I really woke up.
    "Dead! How is that, why?"
    "He was killed and so was Arlene. That partner of hers shot them both. I was heading over there just before it happened but Steve (Bill's son) had a flat and I went to help him."
    I realized that I could have lost both Bill and Wayne. Arlene's real estate partner was upset that she planned to press charges against him for embezzling money out of the apartment complex that they owned together. She was also planning to sell the complex to cover the losses. He was not happy about this. Plus, he was not happy about her relationship with Wayne. The partner was a lot younger than her and, although married himself, had an obsessive crush on her. This was a volatile mix.
    The night he killed them he dressed up like a Ninja, all in black, including a hooded mask. He carried a whole bunch of ninja weapons to a field just behind a canal that ran behind Arlene’s house. This field was the property of my church. Bill's house was two doors down from Arlene's. He laid all his spears, throwing stars, and swords in the grass, loaded his Uzi, waded the canal and headed for Arlene's house. His approach set the neighbor's dogs barking and Wayne opened the door to see what was causing the noise. The guy shot him down, jumped over Wayne's body and went into the house where Arlene was in the living room. Her son and a sleepover friend were upstairs. He shot the living room to pieces, chased Arlene around the first floor of the house, and killed her and then himself. The boys were hiding in the stairwell and of course heard the whole thing.
    The news media was not too sharp and did not know that Wayne worked for me. There were stories on the front page of our local paper and it was the lead story on the local newscasts for about four nights. Not once did anybody contact me and I was very grateful for that oversight.
    I quietly attended Wayne's funeral at Arlene's church along with 300 members of the Coast Guard.
    The next day, as I was cleaning out Wayne's desk and shipping his briefcase to his son, it all sank in. My secretary became so upset that she quit and virtually so did Bill. My brother came to fill in, but that did not help much.
    Wayne sold; I mean I sold the two hotels that I mentioned, along with quite a few other things that Wayne was working on. The business continued for two and a half years until I sold it. I was depressed; I could not see any good coming out of the loss of my friend and partner. It took me a long time to realize that it is not that important for me to understand. God was still in control and loved me; that was all I really needed to know.
    In May of 1985 I almost lost my newborn son and my wife and it was the strength that I received from going through Wayne's death that sustained me and helped me to pray. They both survived.
    Wayne is still someone that I think about a lot. I just recently found the worn-out and faded Polaroid of the three of us at the trade show. Every now and then it does me some good to look at Wayne's smiling bearded face, looking sharp in his red bow tie.
    By the way, I now own a successful communications company that I started in 1991. My wife is my only partner. My first two customers were the same two hotels that Wayne would have sold. Life goes on.
    Derrick
    Doug Stewart, Wayne and myself at the trade show:

  13. -Gramps-

    40 Years

    By -Gramps-,

    Diane and I have discovered that living in a motor coach simplifies our life. We don't find the small space to be confining. Quite the opposite, it is liberating. Our motor coach frees us from thinking about so many things. She and I normally operate in two different worlds. Diane's world concerns the house, the two men, the cat and the dog that live in it with her. My world revolves around my business, my computers, and my online friends. Most of the time we are in two different parts of the house or we are in my office sitting at two different computers. We share the same room when watching TV, but there is not much conversation and it isn't unusual for us both to fall asleep while NCIS or Castle or some other program rumbles on in the background.
    When we travel in the coach we rediscover each other. We are not on the same couch but we are just feet away from each other looking out the same big window. Teddy is sometimes on Diane's lap watching the world fly by with us. We have hours to just "sit and talk." We do plenty of that. We may review the things that have happened in our lives, we talk about our past, our memories and there are lots of those, or we talk about our future and how uncertain it is. We talk about God, our kids, our extended families.
    When you boil it all down, the coach helps us to remember just how much we love each other and how long we have been together, and we have been together for a long, long time...
  14. -Gramps-
    Today I am thinking about one of the things in my life that I am passionate about, something that goes well with owning a coach.
    That something is Photography.
    When I was a young boy I took pictures with a Kodak Brownie box camera. While attending broadcasting technical school in Washington D.C. in 1972, I tried my hand at shooting transparencies (slides) with my dad’s old Agfa 35mm rangefinder with a bellow lens. I had some success with it, during daylight hours anyway. When the first Panda Bears arrived from China at the Washington National Zoo, I attended the acceptance ceremony, hosted by Pat Nixon. I was up in the press stands snapping away. I still have those pictures.
    A few years later I found myself high in the mountains above Nogales, Arizona. As a network news cameraman (videographer), I was there to tape the assembly of one of the first network broadcast satellite dishes built in the southwest. I was running around with a heavy shoulder mounted portable video camera, with a battery belt strapped to my waste and carrying a three quarter inch video tape recorder. I taped the building of the dish, which was mounted on a platform overlooking a five hundred foot drop. The techs building the dish, one was my brother, had to strap themselves to the dish legs to keep from falling to the rocks far below. I captured on tape a number of beautiful sunsets and sunrises. My brother did the same with his Olympus OM-1 35mm SLR film camera.
    Later, after watching my recordings and knowing what was on his exposed film, I decided that I had to get my own 35mm camera. A few months later I visited a catalog showroom in Norfolk, Virginia where I purchased a Minolta XG-1 SLR along with an accessory package that was composed of a bag, a cheap 135mm lens, a flash, and a lens cleaning kit. This purchase started a long love affair with photography which would include many more cameras, and lenses, lots of reading, including the 16 volume Time-Life photography library (which I still own), and one day a complete color darkroom set up in my wife’s laundry room. I stored mixed chemicals and boxes of paper in the refrigerator. This was not always popular with all members of my family.
    I became a semi-pro photographer. I use the term semi-pro because I did not do it to make a living but I did make money at it. I made money shooting weddings, portraits, and other special events. I also made money selling my pictures at art shows. I was one of the photographers at the PBS television station I worked at. My function as video engineer, both in the studio and on remote locations, gave me an opportunity to shoot still shots behind the scenes. These shots were displayed in bank lobbies and libraries around this area and I sold copies to various people who saw them. My pictures were also published a few times in the local paper. The money I made went to feed my habit of taking pictures. It paid for film, chemicals, paper, and new equipment. I also entered a number of photo contests sponsored by local camera shops and cities. I won a few prizes, none of great monetary value, but winning meant a lot to me. The contest gave me the chance to meet other shooters, some of which became friends, and I learned a lot from them.
    I had my darkroom for about four years and then the opportunity to start my own phone business presented itself. I then had to make a decision about what was going to get most of my time and energy. I thought about what the head photography curator of the Chrysler Museum said to me when he was judging the photography at one of the local outdoor art shows where my work was on display. He asked me if I really took the pictures. He was pointing to one in particular when he asked this. Taken a bit back I answered with an emphatic Yes. He then told me I did good work and to keep at it.
    To make a really good picture took two shots, one in the field and one in the darkroom. To give up my darkroom meant giving up my ability to make the kind of finished art I wanted to make. However, I needed to make money to take care of my growing family, so it was a sad day when I sold my easels, large darkroom timer, trays, color developing drums, really good Saunders C760 dichroic color photo enlarger and watched them go out my back door.
    I went into film withdrawal. I threw myself into the phone business and didn't touch a camera again for months.
    Eventually I did get back into it. I purchased a new Minolta 550si Auto Focus camera. I took pictures with that camera as my telephone business took me around the world. I shot pictures of my kids, of the mountains, the sea. Not having a darkroom, I concentrated more on making a better picture inside the camera. I intensified my study of light, depth of field, the capability of different lenses, the best techniques for using a flash. I purchased a Minolta Dimage digital rangefinder camera when that technology was new. I was disappointed. I liked the instant picture, but I found the quality to be very lacking compared to film, so I stayed with that medium for quite a long time. I did scan many negatives and slides for posting on various picture hosting sites. I did post production work on some of those scanned images using different software programs including PhotoShop and others. In other words I was dabbling into the world of digital photography. I dabbled around the edges anyway, but I still could not see a real compelling reason to buy a DSLR.
    One day about seven years ago my daughter Jeri called me and said she was getting married. Jeri and her fiancé Tom would be hosting the event at the Little Switzerland Lodge and Resort on the Blue Ridge Parkway near Marion, North Carolina. The lodge had a staff photographer and as part of their wedding package, he would take pictures during the ceremony. She wanted me to take all the before and after and some during the wedding before I walked her “down the isle”. She wanted my shots, like the staff photographer’s, to be digital. She then informed me she would buy the camera for me. This presented me with a very interesting opportunity.
    I purchased the ten mega pixel Sony Alpha 100 DSLR. This camera had just hit the market a few weeks before Jeri’s call. The bundle included the camera body, 18-70 zoom lens, battery and charger. It cost one thousand dollars. I had a hard time with that price, but considering all my Minolta AF lenses would still work with the new camera, the cost was worth it. However, I could not allow Jeri to spend that kind of money so we split the purchase. I had a few days to learn the ins and outs of the camera. It wasn’t that hard. I took a couple of classes at the Ritz camera store where I bought the camera. I tried, but I found the classes to be a waste of time. I could have taught them, plus I got tired of hearing that the only camera you should own is a Nikon. That is a most silly untrue thing for someone who works in a camera store to say.
    Jeri and Tom were married on October 7, 2006. I took some shots before the ceremony started, then sat aside my camera (and my cell phone) to walk my daughter down the stone pathway to the side of her soon to be husband. I wished I could have been in two places at once. I really wanted to shoot her walking down the isle. Maybe I needed a small drone to hover in front of us and I could have used a remote control? Just kidding.
    My daughter Christine recently started taking a digital photography course at Christopher Newport University in Newport News, Virginia. Christine enrolled to pick up some, what she thought, would be a few easy credit hours. She found out the class is not that easy and she also found out she likes it. She likes taking pictures with my Sony Alpha 100, a camera that meets the class requirements. The two of us have spent quite a bit of time on the phone discussing photography, including the various parts of a DSLR, lenses, and how they all work together. We have also talked about techniques, how to develop an “eye” for a good shot. Christine grew up around photography; it was a part of her life just like computers and telephones. Now photography is a part of her life again and I have enjoyed helping her.
    Working with Christine started me thinking.
    I thought I could provide a few lessons in digital photography, specifically Digital SLR photography here. If you want to get into taking really good pictures, something a lot more than a snap shot, then I can help. I will provide lots of information, both basic and advanced, about choosing and using a DSLR. To make it really interesting I may provide some tasks for you as well, that all depends on the responses I receive here of course.
    Shall we begin? Today’s lesson is a bit of an introduction.
    In order to become a better photographer you need to know two main things.
    1. How to use your equipment.
    2. How to use your eyes.
    What is a DSLR? It is a Digital Single Lens Reflex camera. It combines the optics and mechanics of a Single Lens Camera with a digital sensor instead of film. The term SLR or Single Lens Reflex, refers to the fact that light, passes through the lens, hits a mirror which turns the image right side up and displays it on the viewfinder focusing screen. When the picture is taken the mirror flips up (reflex) as the shutter opens, the iris in the lens closes, and the sensor is exposed. The final image looks very close to what was seen in the viewfinder.
    The best DSLRs have interchangeable lenses. They can have an optical or electronic viewfinder. My newest Sony DSLR has an LCD viewfinder. It is technically an SLT not an SLR. The mirror is translucent (T) which allows light to the viewfinder and exposes the sensor at the same time without the mirror moving during the shot. There are many advantages to this that I will tell you about later. In all other aspects my camera is still a DSLR
    A DSLR with interchangeable lens provides you with almost total control over the image you want to capture. You can adjust the exposure of the shot. Exposure is a combination of the sensitivity of the sensor to light, the speed of the shutter, and the aperture or opening of the iris of the lens. These three things all work together.
    Exposure starts wit the ISO setting. ISO is also known as ASA or DIN. These acronyms are so old no one remembers what they stand for anymore. They are the acronyms of the original folks who set the standards for film. What does this have to do with digital photography? Digital photography still uses those standards. Those standards are used to determine how to set the camera to capture a correctly exposed image.
    The exposure process is a combination of three things…ISO number, which sets the sensitivity of the internal light meter, shutter speed, which determines how long the sensor is exposed to light, we are talking hundredths of seconds here, and the aperture setting or F-stop which determines how large or small the opening of the lens iris.
    A DSLR will set all the above for you automatically or you can decide for yourself. You do have control. You can set the camera for shutter priority meaning you choose the shutter speed; the camera sets the correct lens aperture or F-stop for you. You can reverse that and set the aperture yourself and the camera sets the shutter speed. The third choice, and it is the one that most photography instructors want their students to use, is full manual. You set it all using the camera’s meter.
    Let me give an example. The camera is set for an ISO of 200. The f-stop of the camera is set at 5.6; the shutter speed will be at 125 hundreds of a second. How do I know that? because the meter in my camera tells me. Now if I want to set it myself then there will be an indicator in the viewfinder to let me know when I have the correct exposure. Each manufacturer or camera has its own way of doing that. There might be a vertical or horizontal scale with an arrow or pointer that needs to be set on zero. Older film cameras used a ring and a needle… you adjusted the shutter and F-stop until the needle was in the ring and then take the shot.
    Typically film cameras had an ISO setting as low as 25 to as high as 6400 or more. These settings matched the speed of the film which was on the canister. For example: Kodak Kodachrome daylight film could have an ASA of 25. This was a great film for taking bright colored and very sharp slides in bright daylight. Kodak Ektachrome 400 was good for taking pictures in low light without a flash.
    The higher the ISO the less light you need to expose the picture. The lower the ISO setting the more light you need. So why not use a high ISO all the time? Well that sounds reasonable, but because of the way the other parts of the exposure process work the final picture may have results you don’t want.
    Film has an emulsion consisting of fine grains of silver halide salt particles suspended in a gelatin. These salts based on size determined the sensitivity of the film to light, the more sliver particles the less light, the less light the higher the ISO. The more particles the film contains the grainier the film. This translates to a grainer picture from the developed negative or slide. The bigger the picture the more noticeable this grain becomes. Digital photography experiences the same thing only the grain is called noise. The higher the ISO setting the less light you need but the noise, or digital grain, increases. Some cameras produce more noise at higher ISO than others. The older Sony A100 is noticeably noisier at ISO 400 than my newer A57 SLT.

    Now the question changes to: why use a higher ISO if it increases noise? The answer is because it increases the shutter speed as well.
    Why is that an advantage?
    Simple answer is that a faster shutter speed makes it easier to hold the camera steady and capture the shot. In other words, a faster shutter speed reduces or eliminates a thing called blur. With a fast shutter speed you can freeze your subject. You can catch a bird in flight; freeze a baseball pitcher's curve ball in the air. With a fast shutter speed you can take multiple pictures per second as you pan and follow a track star or a horse racing with its neck outstretched as it passes the winning post.

    A high ISO setting allows for hand held shooting in low light…to a point anyway. I love shooting in low light. I prefer the term available light. If the light is really low then your exposure setting could require a slow shutter speed and as I said that could make it hard to hold the camera steady during the exposure. One way to reduce camera movement is to hold it properly. Elbows tucked in against your body, left hand under the lens with palm up and cradling the lens. This type of hold also helps to keep your fingers from getting in the shot. Another way to reduce camera movement is to take advantage of DSLRs that have built in anti shake. Sony has named this function Steady Shot. Sony built this function into the camera body, some camera makers build it into the lens. I prefer Sony’s method because it reduces the size and weight of their lenses.

    The best way to avoid camera shake when shooting a long exposure is to use a monopod or even better a tripod. Both of these pieces of equipment are essential to the serious photographer.
    I think this is a good start to our online photography course. Next time I will discuss in further detail the relationship between lens settings and focus range also known as depth of field. Controlling DOF is a great advantage that DSLRs provide over the conventional point and shoot camera.
    Gramps.
    http://community.fmca.com/blog/62/entry-1382-depth-of-field/
    Lesson Two.
  15. -Gramps-

    A bit about Wi-Fi

    By -Gramps-,

    It's been awhile since I blogged and a lot has happened since the 23rd of May or whenever it was since I last posted.
    I say a lot has happened, but not really. Diane, Nickolas and myself traveled to our spot at Deer Creek Motorcoach resort, the one in Galax, Virginia, not Florida. Barry, the owner and developer, asked me to point that out.
    While there, I did my best to improve my golf game and beef up our Wi-Fi. The golfing was fun ... more about that later.
    A bit about our Wi-Fi.
    It is not an easy thing to do, cover an area the size of a driving range, which is what Deer Creek used to be, and allow owners to log on from inside their coaches. Most stock Wi-Fi devices, be it a router or access point (it's a bit complicated to explain the difference), cover a 100-foot radius well.
    I am not trying to cover a radius at Deer Creek. I am trying to project the signal in a half circle uphill with some coaches sitting higher than the one in front of it. In a few spots a coach blocks the line of sight of the coach behind it to the Wi-Fi router. I fixed this by adding a third access point with a high gain antenna on the roof of the clubhouse. This plugged my coverage holes, but still I need a bit more punch to get to the far corners of the resort. That will be fixed by adding an inline antenna amplifier to the mix.
    That will be taken care of during our next trip out there. As well as making a change to beef up "Internal security."
    Let's talk about public Wi-Fi for just a minute. A lot of RV parks, including the one next to Deer Creek Motorcoach resort, offer free Wi-Fi. Some of these networks are unsecured, meaning you don't have to have a password, or network key, as it sometimes called, to get onto it. If it does require a security key, the only thing that key does is keep some people without one from getting onto it. Let me tell you something else that the key may not do. It will not protect you from other people in the campground, or at some other public Wi-Fi who are logged on with you.
    Public Wi-Fi works a bit on the honor system.
    You could be sitting at a restaurant logged on to a hotspot with an encryption key and thinking you are as safe as if you were on your home network. However, the person two tables over could be looking through your files. You see, if you have your computer set up to share a printer and or files, you could be exposed. You should turn off printer and file sharing when you don't know if you are connected to a network with client security.
    Vista and Windows 7 will ask if you are connecting to a public hotspot and will turn that feature off if you tell it to. Xp also will let you turn off file and printer sharing, but you have to know where to go to do that.
    I know what most of you are thinking: I don't use file and printer sharing, and I renamed my Windows workgroup, so that helps secure me also.
    The first part is mostly correct. The second part isn't. Renaming your workgroup to something else doesn't help at all. Renaming only hides computers near you from showing up in a certain screen and keeps you from showing up on other XP computers. But, and this is important, if you know where to look other users still can be found. The connection is still there.
    It comes down to this. Most public hotspots are provided by the use of small, inexpensive routers and access points, most of which do not provide isolation from one user to another and it is up to you to look after yourself.
    If you have a network in your coach with multiple users, it becomes a bit harder to do this. If you disable printer and file sharing, your laptop will no longer talk to your desktop, or you and your spouse can't communicate, and your laptops won't communicate to each other. To fix that you may need to get your own wireless router and set it up to repeat the public signal. That way you stay logged on to your own network and you can isolate it from the rest of the RV park.
    RV parks spend more time trying to get coverage and keep unwanted people off their WI-FI network as opposed to trying to protect their guests from each other.
    Remember this: When it comes to public Wi-Fi you have to look after yourself.
    Maybe that should be a rule!
  16. -Gramps-

    A Different Perspective

    By -Gramps-,

    Woof!
    The last two entries of this blog have been kind of serious and sad. Too much for me, to tell you the truth. I think we should go back to having some fun. Gramps' rules for owning a motor coach, especially number four, are just that. So, in order to lighten things back up, I have decided to hijack this blog and post one entry for myself. I don't think Gramps (I know him as Dad, but he really is my person) will mind all that much.
    This entry is about Motor Coaching, but from a different perspective.
    I love traveling in the bus, as Mom (Diane to you) calls it. I love watching my people load the bus up with all kinds of interesting things. I think they carry too many things out there, but it isn't my place to suggest they may be over packing. I love to see what goodies they are bringing, especially the things that go into that big cold black box they call a fridge (it doesn't look like the fridge in the house!).
    Dad is a sucker for a couple of big brown eyes, so I usually end up sharing things like cheese and sardines with him. I love sardines. He split a beer with me once. I didn't like it. It tasted bitter and it made me sneeze. You may have read that on one occasion, he "shared" a lot of Turkey Soup with me. Now, that was a happening feast that a creature like me usually only gets to dream about!
    After awhile it makes me dizzy, all the trips out to the coach, boxes of cans, and crackers and clothes and stuff. I am always told to stay by the front door while they march back and forth to the coach parked in our driveway. After about 10 of these trips I can't stand it anymore, so I make a dash for the coach steps. Mom and Dad usually fuss at me a bit; sometimes they let me into the coach. Usually they send me back to the house. I will admit that I don't like that.
    When they finally get everything loaded, and checked and then double checked and I hear the word that it's time to hit the road, I am more than ready. At my age the steps can be a bit rough on the ol' back legs, but I get excited and take them two at a time. I have one responsibility, so the first thing I do is head to the back of the bus where a big white container with an air-tight lid is stored. That is my supply of chow and it better be there. The trouble is, I have not figured out how to let the folks know if it isn't. Well, so far after five years of checking, I haven't needed to. But you never know, there could be a first time!
    Moving down the road in the coach is great. I sit on Mom's lap and that gives me a terrific view out of our huge windshield. I love the air that blows on me, too. Dad makes it cold somehow. He must be a genius. Mom doesn't always like it as frigid as Dad, but with me on her lap she puts up with it.
    Sometimes I push a button next to Mom's seat just to see what happens. Usually Dad will say something like, "Why is your map light on?" or "Hey, what's going on ... the shades are coming down!" He gets really excited when the step cover starts opening on its own.
    I sometimes get sick in the car. I don't know if that is because it is a small moving space or if it is because sometimes I do not care for where it takes me, like to see Miss Vickie, that woman who hoses me down and then sticks a blow dryer in my face! But, the coach is a very different thing. It is relaxing. I can get down from my perch on Mom's lap; sleep on the couch or on my pillow on the floor or just grab some water if I want it. Try that in a big truck pulling a trailer ...
    Oh, arf ... I have to end this for just a minute. I hear Dad coming down the hall and I do not think he would be pleased to see me messing with his computer. He yells at the cat when she jumps on the keyboard, and yells really loud when he is writing at the time. Oh, in case you were wondering, the cat never travels with us. She hates the coach and would just hack up a big yellow hairball or two and leave them on the dash, right where I like to sit. Got to go ...
    I am back!
    I am not sure what else I can tell you. This is my first dog blog, after all, and writing is not that easy. Let me think of something else, oh ...
    I have enjoyed most all the places we have been. I love visiting rallies with lots of other coaches (hey, I get invited in all the time!) I love meeting other people, both two and four leggers. I love hiking with Mom and Dad on a trail through the mountains. The smells are exciting. I like the ocean, well running on the beach to be precise, the water I don't care for. Now when we travel to the beach, my Mom gets out my (I don't claim it!) tropical shirt and puts it on me. I can stand the shirt, but the hat ... one day when no one is looking I plan to chew that thing into tiny pieces!
    My favorite place to travel to in the motor coach is, for the most part, wherever my people are headed, but there is one stop that is really great: our new home in the mountains. It is the one place where I get to run around without my leash, and the other people there ... well, they are wonderful friends to my people. I have a friend there as well. Her name is Godiva. At mealtimes, everyone shares all kinds of tasty things with us both. I do prefer Dad's cooking. Now I am thinking about that soup again!
    I need to wrap this up, so:
    Here are my rules for owning a motor coach:
    Do not leave home without the dog in the coach.
    Do not leave home without the dog's food in the coach.
    Do not leave home without the dog's food bowl in the coach.
    Do not leave home without the dog's water bowl in the coach.
    Do not leave home without the dog's treats in the coach.
    Do not leave home without the dog's leash. It makes the person I am leading feel safer.
    Do not leave home without the poopy bags. I don't really care, but Mom and Dad don't think I should leave stuff on the trail for some reason.
    Go figure.
    Nickolas

    I hate the hat. But I love Mom!
  18. -Gramps-

    A Few More Tips and Hints

    By -Gramps-,

    1. I leave a baseball cap on the dash whenever I am driving the coach. I don’t wear it all the time but it sure comes in handy when the sun is low and shines thru the gap in our double automatic windshield shades.
    2. While we are on the subject of windshields. I replaced my stock Monaco wiper arms with ones with standard sized J-Hooks. I purchased them from Diesel Equipment Corp in Greensboro NC. Now I can use any length frameless replacement blade, easily purchased from an auto parts store or Wal-Mart.

    3. Rescue Tape works as advertised. I carry three rolls of it, Red, Orange and Clear. It can fix a hose, a broken patio umbrella and there are lots of useful reasons to have a roll in a drawer.
    Capillary action (sometimes capillarity, capillary motion, or wicking) is the ability of a liquid to flow in narrow spaces without the assistance of, and in opposition to, external forces like gravity.
    Do you read that? Water can go against gravity, flow UP, if the conditions are there. So here is hint number four…it’s a bit long but I suggest you read it.
    4. If you have a Monaco or Holiday Rambler coach with the rubber black gutters at the bottom of the side of each of your slideouts then you need to take a close look at the bottom of the floor of each slideout, especially the main one. That piece of rubber was installed to catch the water running down the side and not let it run under the slideout where it gets wicked up by the plywood floor. There is an exposed wooden edge underneath the main slideout that is well, too exposed. The rubber gutter helps to prevent a leak problem but it doesn’t quite do the trick. The gutter funnels a lot of water to the front bottom corner of the slideout causing the floor to delaminate and then it starts to soak up water and it swells and the cycle just gets worse until one day mushrooms are growing out the bottom of your slideout. Not good. I discovered this was happening to my coach. I had a lot of rotten wood which I blew out with an air compressor and then filled the void with spray in stop gap foam in a can. Then I glued a piece of rubber sweep over the edge of the slideout so the water could not defy gravity and run underneath any longer.
    If you discover you have this problem you can limit the exposed edge of the floor by running a line of deck screws through the bottom of the floor until they are flush! Don't leave any exposed screw head or it will get caught when the slide goes in and cause a lot of grief.


    6. Learn where your ice maker shut of valve is located. You don’t want to be caught by surprise and have to turn off the campground water to your coach because you can’t figure out how to turn off the water to the icemaker…not to mention the damage a leak can do to your fridge electronics.
    7. After you learn where your shutoff valve is, I suggest you replace the standard plastic tubing water supply line to your ice maker solenoid with a reinforced ice maker hose. Why risk a leak from a broken water line caused by the fact it moves when the coach moves? This part is available at Lowe’s for around 15 bucks depending on the length. I bought a six foot one. It took about twenty minutes to connect it. The line from the solenoid to the ice maker (the metallic blue in the picture) is not as critical. It is not under constant pressure.


    8. If your fridge was part of the recall and you now have the heat sensor relay box installed I have a hint for you. Those boxes are known for tripping and not resetting. When that happens your fridge will not turn on unless you bypass the relay. I learned a trick...you can reset the relay with a magnet. Just rub it on the back of the box until you hear a click.
    9. I have a rechargeable flashlight/night light plugged into a bathroom socket. Its in the middle of the coach and comes in handy during an emergency, like the dog needs to go out in the middle of the night and I don’t want to turn on the lights in the coach.
    10. I carry a CharGriller table top grill. It is a small kettle grill with cast iron grates. Best portable charcoal grill you can get. It fits in the basement but large enough to cook a mean six pound beer can chicken. This grill is available on line or at Lowe’s for around sixty nine dollars.
    http://www.lowes.com/pd_11236-49769-11236_0__?zipCode=23703&masthead=true&firstReferURL=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.lowes.com%2Fpd_11236-49769-11236_0__%3FproductId%3D3049705%26Ntt%3Dchargriller%26pl%3D1%26currentURL%3D%253FNtt%253Dchargriller%26facetInfo%3D&catalogId=10051&catalogId=10051&productId=3049705&pl=1&findStoreErrorURL=StoreLocatorDisplayView&selectedLocalStoreBeanArray=%5Bcom.lowes.commerce.storelocator.beans.LocatorStoreBean%404f164f16%2C+com.lowes.commerce.storelocator.beans.LocatorStoreBean%4051c651c6%2C+com.lowes.commerce.storelocator.beans.LocatorStoreBean%4054765476%2C+com.lowes.commerce.storelocator.beans.LocatorStoreBean%4057265726%2C+com.lowes.commerce.storelocator.beans.LocatorStoreBean%4059d659d6%5D&currentURL=%3FNtt%3Dchargriller&Ntt=chargriller&langId=-1&langId=-1&URL=TopCategoriesDisplayView&mastheadURL=TopCategoriesDisplayView&storeId=10151&storeId=10151
    11. Do you have a dog that likes to spend a lot of time on the dash? Diane and I made a custom fit dash mat. We purchased comfort rugs…those things that usually go in a kitchen or laundry room and are designed to be easy on the feet. They are made out of the same thing that mouse pads are made from…urethane rubber. We trimmed the rugs to fit around the instrument panel and it looks really good on the dash. The rubber clings to the dash so it is not necessary to attach the two mats together. Our new dash mat is really easy to clean. I used the left over scrap material to make some matching coasters and a mouse pad for the coach.


    Well, that is all the hints I can think of at the moment. I suspect that some more will pop into my brain and I will add to this list if that happens.
    Gramps.
  19. -Gramps-

    A Half Year in Pictures

    By -Gramps-,

    I thought I would  tell a happy story. It is a picture story, about what we have done,  and where we have been, the first half of this past year. I have heard that pictures are worth a lot more than words.Take a look, if you please: Half Year in Pictures

  20. -Gramps-
    Just a note about what is coming next. . . I know that this story has gotten long, but it is about to get much longer. You might want to get cup of coffee or take a break before you continue.
    You are about to find out that I have set you up. I have spent a lot of time and words to set you up for a story that I wrote twenty five years ago. It was the first serious short story I have written as an adult. I submitted it to Guidepost Magazine and just basically forgot about it. After a few weeks, I received a call at work,
    It was from an editor at the magazine. He told me that he didn't usually call a writer to tell them that their story had been rejected, but he was making an exception in my case, because he felt strongly that the story should have been printed but he was overruled by the editor in chief. He went on to tell me that my story had caused the biggest argument the magazine had ever had over whether to publish or not. They wanted me to change a few things in it but this editor felt it would change the story to much and at the time I agreed.. He was very sorry to disappoint me; everyone agreed the story was very well written, by a "trained wordsmith", to use the words of the editor in chief. He asked if I had written anything else. I said no, the conversation ended and the story sat in a drawer for years. I took it out of the drawer a few months ago, dusted it off and made a few changes to it.
    Here is the story of the miracle that came to my family, just when we needed it. Take a deep breath and don't read it too fast.
    A Night in May
    We all have life defining moments, a moment that changes us and helps to make us who we are.. It may be for good, or for bad. We said yes to something when we should have said no. We stopped when we should have gone. We sat when we should have gotten up. Sometimes we run away from them. This is about one of those moments that happened to me. It was a moment in time when I got up.
    You may choose not to believe what you read here, that is up to you. I will tell you this. It happened just the way I have written it.
    My Mom and I argued that night. Was it a Tuesday or a Thursday? I don't remember. I do remember that it was sometime in May, 1968. I was fourteen years old, halfway between the time I first thought I should be treated like a man and nobody would and the time my parents thought I should act like a man and I couldn't.
    What did my Mom and I argue about? Was it clothes or grades or just my "attitude"? It must have been aright big fight because I remember doing what I usually did afterwards. I took a long hot shower, the kind where Mom would bang on the bathroom door, rattle the doorknob, and remind me that there was a water shortage or would be if I didn't hurry up and get out of there. No response from me of course. Ten minutes or two yells later, whichever came first, I would turn off the water as the words "it's about time" seemed to slide underneath the bathroom door.
    I will admit that I was not the easiest teenager to get along with. I was a know it all, stubborn as a rock, and at times just plain unfriendly. Simple things gave me a lot of pleasure, like removing my brother from his bunk bed, the top one, with a well placed kick in the middle of the night, or attaching a clothespin to the tail of the cat next door in order to watch it run in noisy circles.
    I did not do these things very often but my parents could not understand why I did them at all. I didn't know why either. I did know that something was wrong. I was frustrated. I was anxious. I was bored. I didn't like life. I certainly didn't understand it. Why was I here? Why was anybody here? Is there a God? Lots of questions like those constantly rolled through my head until I thought I was going crazy,
    It was usually in the wee hours of the morning that I would mull the possible answers to life's profound questions around in my brain, until out of frustration I would send my foot to the unseen, but still perfect spot, over my head which would send little Rodney flying to the floor where he would land with a thump, a wail, and a "Be Quiet In There!" from the room across the hall. I would respond by wrapping my pillow around my head trying to shut out everything. The questions with no answers just keep on coming.
    I finished my shower this particular evening, dried off and shoved the unfolded towel over the rack. As I was putting on, what I considered to be my unfashionable bathrobe, I looked at myself in the mirror. My face looked tight and drawn. The argument lines were still on my forehead and around my mouth. There was the red beginning of a zit forming over the right eyebrow,
    "Great that's all I need." I thought. "The girls will really like me now."
    I turned to leave the bathroom and stubbed my big toe against the door just as little brother was coming in; loudly claiming he couldn't hold it any longer. He also bet there wasn't enough water left to flush with. I cuffed him upside the ear and strutted angrily down the hall. I passed by my little sisters' room.
    They were both asleep. Kam was in her bed and Penni, the younger one, in her crib. Both girls were born with a twisted foot. Kam wore a cast for about a year and then wore corrective shoes so she was now cured. Penni's right foot was twisted so badly that she could hardly walk. She was due to have a cast put on her leg and foot in just a few days. She was a very active eighteen month old so the cast was sure to make things unpleasant for her. I loved my sisters very much. However at that moment as I passed the door of their room I was not thinking about them. I kept on walking.
    When I reached the den I sat down hard on the opposite end of the couch from my parents, folded my arms and stared blankly at the new color television. I couldn't stand it. They were watching that nutty religious channel again.
    I didn't mind religious things. Not a whole lot anyway. Well maybe I did. My Mom and Dad had been taking me to church all my life. I thought it was the right thing to do but I also thought it was boring. When I was small it seemed more important and frankly, then it was more fun. I liked the summer church programs with the games, the cookies and juice. I listened when I heard the stories about Noah, Sampson, David and Goliath. One thunder stormy Sunday night when I was about seven years old I asked my Father what dying on the cross must have been like for Jesus.
    "Did he hurt bad?" I asked.
    I don't remember the words that my father used. I do remember that while he talked I could almost smell the dust on the streets of Jerusalem. I could hear the shouts of the soldiers and the cries of the people as Jesus stumbled his way to the hill. The hammer struck the nail. The cross dropped roughly into the ground. As Daddy spoke the sky grew dark, the lightening struck and Jesus said, "It is finished." And somehow I knew that this had something to do with me. This terrible death of a man who healed children, made the blind to see, and the dead live again, had something to do with me. What, I wasn't sure.
    Not long after that, I was baptized and became a member of our church. It felt good for awhile. For a few years I continued to believe and to grow. Then something inside of me began to change. Church became a place to talk, to meet people (girls), to show off new clothes, and to complain that it was boring. Religion just did not have my attention.
    Religion didn't have my attention but this television show sure did. As I watched, I could tell the small studio was full of people. They were praying. I guess that's what it was. I had never seen anything like it before. Their arms were in the air. They looked at the ceiling a lot. They prayed out loud and I do mean loud. They moaned and swayed together. It made me feel very strange.
    A man named Jim, kind of small, with his hair slicked back and carrying a microphone seemed to take center stage. Two more men, a tall one and another one moved over next to him. The small one motioned to a lady who was standing off to one side. She was carrying a young boy who had a brace on one leg. On the same leg he wore a built up shoe. Obviously that leg was much shorter than the other. The boy also had one arm that was thin and twisted. He kept it pressed up against his chest.
    I found myself leaning forward on the couch. A piano began to softly play. Then the three men did something I had also never seen before. They put their hands on the little boy and starting praying. "Heal him Jesus. . . . Heal him God."
    I didn't like it at all, yet it was so compelling at the same time. The men started praying in some kind of Arabic sounding language. That really made me nervous. The piano began to play a melody that seemed to follow the sing-song pattern of the prayers of the men. The people in the studio joined in.
    One of the men asked the lady to put the boy down and when she did he began to walk, hesitantly, and then with greater speed. Then he started to walk unevenly, a kind of side to side gait. The camera took a tight shot. My mouth went dry. In awe, I realized that right in front of my eyes his short leg was growing!
    The lady looked absolutely shocked. She picked the boy up and hugged him. The people were shouting now. The music swelled and then as if on cue it stopped.
    The man named Jim held a pencil in front of the little boy. "Take this," he said. The boy reached out with his good arm. "Noâ€, he said, "I want you to take it with your other hand."
    It was obvious that the little boy had to think about this. He paused for a few seconds. I held my breath and then as if in slow motion he straightened out that little shriveled up arm and with a firm grab took the pencil.
    The people let out shout of joy that shook me to my soul. I breathed in a lung full of air. My eyes began to fill with tears.
    Then the man named Jim turned and faced the camera. He seemed to be looking right at me.
    "What just happened is real," he said. "Very real and it's just the start. Jesus wants to heal children tonight. He is going to heal children tonight, sick children, and crippled children. They will walk. They will see. They will hear."
    Then this little man with the round face, funny smile and slicked back hair pointed his finger at a boy sitting on a couch and changed his life forever.
    "Parents, go and pray for your children. Big brothers go and lay your hands on your little brothers or sisters and do it now! "
    Suddenly, without thinking, I got off the couch, ran down the hall, made a sharp left turn into my sisters' room and stopped in front of Penni's crib where her little form was asleep under her favorite blanket.
    My mind went blank. What do I do? Touch her. I did that. Maybe I should put my arm in the air like those people. I did that. Now ask God in the name of Jesus to heal this crooked little foot. Yes. I will. I did.
    "Oh please God, please, Jesus, please, please make her foot well." It was all I knew how to say. It was enough.
    I began to shake. I began to sweat. My knees became so weak I thought I would fall. Then a feeling or maybe it was a kind of presence seemed to be in me or around me. I became calm and peaceful on the inside while still shaking on the outside, and I started to cry. I felt like I was not me anymore. Somebody that was me, but not me, took my place and this somebody was better, cleaner, a new person. And this new person knew that Penni's little foot was now perfectly fine.
    I'm not sure how long I stood there. I was surrounded by something very special and I just keep breathing it in. After awhile I knew the moment had passed. Feeling a little weak and still trembling, I went back to the den to tell my parents what had happened.
    The next day watching Penni run around without the need to hold someone's hand was an amazing, wonderful sight. Just as wonderful was the change in my family and in me.
    For a short while I had been connected to something infinitely great. It was a power older than time itself. I was no longer centered on myself. I was at peace.
    The questions that haunted me no longer needed answers.
    But the story isn't over yet...
  21. -Gramps-

    A Premonition?

    By -Gramps-,

    Yesterday morning started out normal, almost. I woke up with the memory of a disturbing dream. I was walking Nickolas, our cocker spaniel, down a long faded green hall. It reminded me of an old high school corridor, or maybe an old office building. It had a polished dirty brown vinyl tile floor. There were exposed fluorescent lights, the long two-lamp kind that flicker and make a lot of ballast noise. At the end of the hall was a metal door with a reinforced glass window in the top half. The bottom of the door had one of those metal kick plates. It seemed to be dented and had black marks on it. The door that opened into the hall was slightly ajar. The hall was long and Nickolas seemed impatient; he kept tugging at his leash. As the door got closer he suddenly jerked the leash out of my hand and went running for the door, with me right behind him, calling to him. Just as I was about to grab his leash he made it through the door, leash and all, and it slammed shut. I tried to open it but it was locked. The window, which had until now been dark, began to glow with a white light. I put my face up to it and could see a huge wall-less white space. There were many, many dogs in there, all kinds, most of them white, running back and forth, jumping around, some chasing each other. I desperately looked for my dog and caught a glimpse of him just as he was headed deeper into this space. I called to him but there was no reaction. I started kicking the bottom of the door and banging on the glass but it didn't do any good. The window went dark and I woke up.
    Diane was standing by the bed with Nickolas' leash in her hand. It was time for him to go to the vet to get his teeth cleaned and while under the anesthesia to also have this large fatty lump removed from his left side. Both these procedures were routine. He had been through it all before some four years earlier. Diane wasn't worried about it; she had been pushing me to get it done. My only objection was the cost, but then I object to the cost of most things in life. As I set there in the bed, the money wasn't what was worrying me.
    I reached over to Nickolas and said a quick prayer.
    "Do you want me to go with you?" I asked.
    "No, we will be fine... won't we, pup?" Diane responded as she snapped on the leash.
    "We are late, better get moving."
    An obviously reluctant Nickolas jumped off the bed. A few seconds later I heard the front door squeak and click shut.
    "I have a bad feeling about this," I told myself. However, it could just be an overactive imagination.
    At about 8:15 a.m., I was sitting where I am now, at my computer when Diane arrived back at the house. She told me that Nick would be at the vets until about 5 p.m. They were not sure when his procedure would start, but it might be early afternoon.
    At around 10 a.m. the phone rang. Diane answered it after seeing Churchland Animal pop up on the caller ID, which displays on our TV. I heard her talking and gathered something was wrong, so I went into the living room and sat down in front of her.
    It seems that they almost lost our dog while on the table. Usually the procedure is to give an injection to make him still and kill any pain, and then they administer a gas once the injection takes effect. They did that this time, but just after the injection his heart rate doubled. It went from 128 beats per minute to over 260 beats per minute. A momentary heart rate spike is not unusual, but this time his heart rate would not come down. After two minutes of this, even after the gas was started, they could not bring it down. They had to bring him out before his heart arrested. The vet, to use his words, was starting to feel a bit panicky himself. Nickolas gave him a scare, but by the time they called us his heart rate has started to come down and they expected it be back to normal shortly. He was alert, but panting a lot, and they wanted to keep him a few more hours to observe him. Diane asked a few questions, but they had no real answers to what happened. They could only surmise that maybe his heart had an electrical malfunction, or he had a reaction to the pain meds, although he had not had one four years earlier. The cause was just not known.
    Diane said thank you, hung up the phone, and broke down in tears.
    I was shocked, but then I realized I must have known something was going to happen.
    As usual, when I don't understand something, I jumped on the Internet and started searching. Could this have been caused by some medication that Nickolas has been taking? Or could he have an enlarged heart, a condition called DCM that cockers can get when they get older? What caused us to almost lose our best little friend?
    I don't know. I suspect it will not be easy to find out. I do know that God answered my prayer: He looked after Nickolas.
    Neither Diane nor I are prepared to live without him.
    The vet called back around 3 p.m., and this time I took the call. Nickolas' heart rate was back to normal, but the doctor said he would still like to observe him for a couple more hours and then we could come for him.
    After and anxious two-hour wait and a short drive to the vet's office, we picked up our pup at five o'clock. We first had a talk with the Doctor, who pretty much reviewed what he had told us on the phone.
    Nickolas came out of the back, very happy to see us, and we were overjoyed to see him.
    He hopped in the car, and we went to a local Red Box to rent a comedy, because we needed a laugh after the day's events. We also picked up a cooked chicken and some side salads at the local Kroger. The smell of the chicken drove Nickolas, who had been on a fast from the night before, crazy. I think that was a good sign.
    As of this morning our dog isn't quite is old self yet. He seems a bit groggy and tired. It's no wonder, after what he has been through. He is probably wondering what he did to deserve a day like yesterday, but like most dogs he will forgive us pretty quickly.
    When we leave on our next RV trip, I am sure he will be where he always is, on his mom's lap, looking out the big window at the passing world.
    Thank God for that.
  22. -Gramps-

    A Quick Weekend

    By -Gramps-,

    This past weekend, Diane and I took the coach, the dog (can't leave home without him!) and the grandboys to Virginia Beach, Va. We stayed in the premier sites at the Holiday Travel Campground. The premier sites are a bit larger pull-thrus than the rest of the sites. The campground is about 40 minutes from our home. We left about 2:45 in the afternoon and arrived about 3:30 or so.
    We didn't do much the first night except grill some burgers while the boys explored the playground next to us. Later that night, we moved back to the sitting area in the bedroom. The boys curled up on the bed, and I took a chair and read to them.
    We have been reading "The Magician's Nephew." It is book one or book six, depending on which release of the set of books, of the Chronicles of Narnia. After a few pages of Uncle Andrew's Troubles we decided to watch a movie. Mr. Magorium's Wonder Emporium. My wife loves the movie and the boys seemed to like it as well. While the movie was playing, I snuck back to the bedroom, sat down in one of the rockers and put up my feet and opened a Clive Cussler novel. I needed some time to myself.
    It had been a rough morning. It seems that I can have a slow week, but the day we plan on leaving in the rig for anywhere, some phone system decides to go down for some reason. On this particular morning a major medical practice had trouble due to an expiring Internet IP address. This is not an easy problem to fix, so I figured it would take all day and our trip was going to evaporate. However, Diane decided that I would resolve the problem with time to spare, so she packed up the coach by herself while I drove nine miles away to the site. She was right. I was home by 1 p.m. We finished loading the coach with enough food and clothes for a weekend, pulled the coach out and hooked up the tow. The only thing left was for the boys to be dropped off by their Mom.
    The boys were on the pull-out bed while the movie played and so by the time it was over, they were out for the night. Tomorrow would be a Saturday with no emergency phone calls. I hoped so, anyway.
    Saturday morning began with plenty of sunshine. We ate a quick breakfast of cereal for the kids, cottage cheese and pineapple for Diane and me. Our dog, Nickolas, figured that he would be left alone for the morning to guard the coach, so he decided to sulk and not eat his breakfast. Hey, you can't please everyone!
    After breakfast we took a brisk walk around the campground, dog and all. After that we secured the pup in the coach, locked up and took the car to the Virginia Aquarium to catch the 11:15 showing of Disney's A Christmas Carol 3d Imax film. We planned to get there early enough to buy good seats.
    The aquarium was only 10 minutes away. We got there and found out that the first show was not full and we also had time to visit part of the aquarium, see the film and then see the rest of the facility. Sounded like a plan to me.
    So we watched the fishies swimming around, observed a SCUBA diving demonstration and then headed for the movie.
    I love wearing those goofy 3D glasses over my glasses. A Christmas Carol was, or should I say is, a really good film. Jim Carrey wonderfully plays Scrooge and all three Christmas Spirits. The 3D effects are mesmerizing. In other words, I highly recommend this movie. It should really put you into the holiday spirit unless you are a pre-converted Scrooge.
    After the movie we picked up where we left off in the museum/aquarium. We visited the aviary, just in time for the feeding of the birds with lots of dead mice, crickets, squid and all kinds of other appetizing things. We watched the otters for awhile, then walked back to the parking lot and drove back to the campground.
    At this point I needed to get ready for the event of the day. The official chili cookoff was set for 6:30 that very evening. It was four o'clock by the time we got back from the aquarium, so I need to get to work. I knew that there were about 11 entries and I planned to win this thing. Diane won the last time we were at this campground. As a matter of fact we were using the two free nights that were her prize for being the only one who entered the contest! Hey, a win is a win in my book. This time though, it was going to be a bit harder.
    I think I make a really good chili. It has a bit of a kick to it. My special ingredient is a bottle of lime and salt beer. There are a number of different kinds and I use what I can find at the time. I also use red, orange and yellow peppers along with lots of chili powder, black pepper and some other spices that, well, are my secret. Also, I add frozen corn for color and a bit of texture to go along with the kidney and black beans.
    Around 6 p.m. we headed over to the dining room where the contest was taking place. There were supposed to be 12 entries, but two were no-shows. I was number 11. The judges started taking small samples of each starting with number one. After they finished, the rest of us lined up and hit the Crock-Pots. I went for a white bean and chicken chili that tasted more like chicken soup with white beans. Two entries were made with cubed beef instead of ground. Both tasted like beef stew. No kick. As a matter of fact, the only one out of the five I tasted that had any spice to it was mine.
    So I was a somewhat surprised when the two blandest entries, that didn't even taste like chili, won first and second place. I have entered four or five cooking contests now and I cannot figure out what these judges are thinking or tasting. It must not have been the same thing I ate! Well, my grandkids, Diane, and the people running the event said mine was the best, so that's good enough for me. Plus, the boys really enjoyed themselves filling up on chili and bread, cheese and sour cream.
    We headed back to the coach and since we were kind of in a food mood, we stuck Ratatouille in the DVD player. That movie was also a lot of fun. You really can't beat a good Pixar film.
    Once again we timed it good. The movie ended and so did the boys. The next morning we had a quick breakfast and went and played a game of miniature golf. That was fun for all involved even though some of the holes were almost impossible to play. Afterward we packed up after meeting our camping neighbors, who toured our coach. By 2 it was time to leave.
    Our trip home was short and uneventful. We pulled into the driveway and unpacked the coach. It was a quick weekend, but sometimes those can be really good. By the way, the boys are named Carson and Austen. Two good kids. I think you would like them.
  24. -Gramps-
    As a kid I enjoyed serial stories in magazines. Works of fiction published one chapter at time. I read them and couldn't wait for the next installment. The next chapter.
    The number one thing that all good fiction writers say is common about writing is that writing should be about something that you know about. I know about communications, photography, history, RVing, and I know about myself and my family. I have also read that you should write about something that you love. I love all the above. (Yes, I can be a bit self-absorbed, at times.)
    So with those directions in mind I have written the first chapter of a novella or novelette. A novella is defined as a written, fictional prose narrative longer than a novelette but shorter than a novel. The novella has a word count of between 17,500 words and 40,000 words. A novelette has between 7,500 words and 17,499 words.
    So it remains to be seen what this will be. I don’t know where this work will take me, or us, because you the reader will be on this journey with me. I will try to make it enjoyable for us both, but I will need something from you. Your input is necessary. So please comment. If you don’t I will not know if my work is going to make you want to travel further on.
    Thanks.
    Gramps
    MORTALITY: Chapter One
    "It's a funny old world, a man's lucky if he gets out of it alive."
    -- W.C. Fields
    If the sun is shining through my motor coach bedroom skylight, wherever the location or whatever the time zone that happens to be at the time, I have the ability to always wake at exactly 7 a.m. If there is no sunlight shining into my bedroom, then I wake at exactly 7:30. I know because I always verify the time on my glowing blue-green cheap Timex watch. My wife used to tell me the time by pressing a button on her alarm clock and it would shine a red light with the time on the ceiling. But that doesn't happen now because that side of the bed is empty and cold.
    It is now morning and, like most mornings, I can hear my son Jonah moving around in the living area of our motor coach. He has already folded up the air mattress bed back into the couch. I can hear him pouring fresh water into the dog's bowl as he talks to Alexander, my elderly Cockapoo. That is a terrible name for a breed of dog. I prefer Spoodle as a better moniker.
    Alexander sleeps on the fold-out bed with Jonah. The dog doesn't seem to like the foot of my bed anymore, now that he realizes he has his choice of humans to curl up next to. Of course, my recent bout of restless leg syndrome, which causes him to fly off the bed in the middle of the night, may have influenced his decision to change his sleeping arrangements.
    "Dad, are you moving around in there? I taste waffles already"
    "Yes, I am getting up,". I answer as I crawl out of bed and slip on a pair of Tommy Jeans that has been neatly hanging on the back of one of the bedroom chairs all night. I pull on a long-sleeve green T-shirt that says "Outer Banks" on the front, slip my feet into some worn-out Topsiders and then hit the head.
    As I said, this morning is like so many mornings. We keep to certain rituals, with some variations. If there is coffee available in the office of the campground we are staying at, we grab our own mugs -- I can't stand Styrofoam cups -- and we walk over to procure some. If there isn't any coffee we make our own. If there is breakfast available, we make every effort to be there. This morning, like the last five mornings since we arrived here in the Smithfield North Carolina KOA, we are going to make our own waffles. The office has easy-to-use waffle makers, waffle ingredients of course, and real Mrs. Butter-Worth's syrup to go with them. None of that fake Mrs. Butter-Worth's will do.
    Jonah, who just finished feeding Alex his morning breakfast of the same little brown nuggets of nutrition he gets every morning, hands me my jacket.
    "Dad," he says as he glances down at my feet. "There is still snow on the ground; you need to put some socks on."
    "I won't loose any toes to frostbite, let's go."
    I almost fall on my skinny butt as my tread-less Topsiders hit the ice at the bottom of the two outside steps. It is cold so I zip my jacket up to my chin.
    Jonah closes the door, makes sure it is locked, and we slip and slide our way over to the office.
    We don't talk much as we carefully walk toward the waiting waffles. We mostly watch each other breathe the crisp air in and out, human steam curling around our heads.
    "Did you sleep well?" one of us may ask the other one.
    "Fine. How about you?"
    "I had one of those nasty leg cramps last night again."
    "You need to drink more water. That should help."
    Like most mornings that is about as exciting as it gets.
    We walk through the office door, me first, and the bell attached to the top announces our arrival.
    The KOA office is typical of most campground offices. A camp store in the front with vinyl sewer hoses and connectors, water hoses, soap, light bulbs, fuses, overpriced useful things that you buy in a hurry, well, when you need them in a hurry. Also for sale are not-so-useful things like wind chimes, ceramic thimbles, spinners, light thingies you hang around your neck, stupid things like wooden grandma back ends that you stick in the ground. Off to one side there is a rack of brochures of tourist traps and attractions. Some groceries on the self, a glass top freezer with Nutty Buddies and Eskimo Pies, maybe some pints of Ben and Jerry's. Every campground that Jonah and I have traveled to, it's the same stuff. The quantities and the quality may differ a bit, but the fact that it is always there is comforting in a way.
    "Good morning, Mr. Christopher," said the young lady in the yellow golf shirt, behind the counter, looking at me. I didn't respond fast enough for my son.
    "Good morning to you too, Sarah," answered Jonah.
    Jonah learned her name in the first five minutes of the first day. After five days I still didn't know what it was. Maybe I should have looked at her name tag.
    "Now I told you to call me Jonah," he continued, smiling that big smile of his.
    Sarah glanced over at me. She tried again.
    "Good morning to you, too, Mr. Christopher."
    "His name is George."
    I smiled at her and told her good morning. I guess I didn't smile big enough.
    "Mr.Christopher, there is a fresh pot of coffee in the kitchen and the waffle makers are nice and hot, too. Go help yourself and if you need anything just holler."
    Jonah just laughed, grabbed me by the arm and led me to the kitchen.
    "Come on George; let me make you some waffles."
    If I let it, it could really make me mad when people think I'm not friendly.
    After dispensing myself a cup of hazelnut coffee, my wife's favorite, I sat down to nurse it and my slightly bruised ego.
    Jonah operated the waffle irons to his satisfaction and placed a paper plate with a one large plain waffle in front of me. He sat down with a plate of four waffles, with lots of butter and Mrs. Butter-Worth's dripping down the sides. He could still eat with the careless abandon of an athletic 18-year-old without it affecting his much older waistline. I also ate without much thought. Actually half the time I just didn't think about eating. I live on very few calories. I miss my wife's cooking. I miss sitting across from her when eating someone else's cooking. For over 50 years just having her there with me made everything taste better. Without her, there was not much taste at all.
    While Jonah was eating and I was nibbling, Sarah came into the kitchen with another camper. She was showing him how to operate the waffle irons and pointed to the chilled carafes of juice, and milk next to the coffee dispensers. As the obviously new guest started to pour some waffle batter into the iron, she turned and sat at the table with Jonah and myself.
    "So, are you two still planning on leaving today or can we help you to stay around a bit longer?" she asked.
    I looked up at her.
    "I think we will be pulling out today, kind of late tough. Is it okay for us to leave a bit after check out?"
    "Sure, as you can tell we aren't that busy. What with the snow and all. Stay as late as you like. If you decide to stay any more days, just come by the office tomorrow."
    "Thanks, Sarahâ", said Jonah. "We have enjoyed it here, especially the waffles." He gave her another one of his big smiles.
    I saw her face light up and I knew he had done it. He had opened the door.
    "Where are you two off to next?" She asked casually.
    Jonah answered just as casually.
    "We are not sure, maybe Florida, somewhere along the coast. Maybe I can talk George here into going back to Fort Wilderness, but I think he wants to go farther south, so he can warm up his ancient old bones a bit."
    I understood Jonah's choice of words, and he knew it too.
    "Mr. Christopher, are you going to let your brother call you ancient?"
    "How old do you think he is? Make a good guess now,'' prompted my still smiling son.
    "You don't look over what, forty-something...I guess forty five?"
    This comment really tickled Jonah, which is what he wanted. This was a game he liked to play with me, and that guess just egged him on even more.
    "Forty-five?" He grinned at me. "You are so close. How old do you think I am?" he asked.
    Sarah looked him over for before answering "mmmm..I'd say about the same. No, maybe a few years older...so fifty-five?"
    Jonah smiled at her. "Why, thank you, darling, but nope, I will be sixty-six on my next birthday."
    Sarah looked very surprised. "Really?"
    He looked over at me. "Isn't that right, little brother?"
    I just gave him the same patient smile I always gave him. I was thankful that Jonah didn't tell Sarah that at the exact moment Robert E. Lee was surrendering his sword to General Grant, that I was coming, kicking and screaming as they say, into this world.
  25. -Gramps-

    A Year Ago

    By -Gramps-,

    I have been meaning to write the second part (the better part) of our trip to Melbourne, Florida to see our daughter and Gavin, our new grandson. However, my writing has been delayed by a web site move, a pinched nerve in my neck (I can't feel two of my fingers on my left hand) and other related work stuff. Also it is an anniversary, a sad anniversary which has turned my thoughts towards another grandson and just how precious a life can be, even if it is a short one.
    I wrote this last year. I don't think I can or need to add to what I said.
    I have enjoyed being part of the motor home community. It means a lot to me. More than I can possible say. At this moment I am at Deer Creek Motorcoach Resort in Galax. It has been my refuge for the last few days. I am surrounded by my friends and I have needed them and they have been here for me. Yesterday I lost one of my grandsons. I never got the chance to meet him. Diane had to fly down to Florida to be with our daughter and her husband after we learned that her unborn baby boy who was going to be with us in just a few weeks was not going to be with us for long. I couldn't go with her and so I have been leaning on the community here and hugging the dog. I guess it has been Teddy's job to wash away my tears...and there has been a lot of them.
    As usual when I and my family are going thru a tough and emotional time I pray and I write........
    Daniel, my dear grandson:
    You were with us for such a short time today and then you were gone. Your life was a sunset, here for a moment and then no more. Now your Mother, Father and Grandparents are left with memories of what we hoped you would bring to our lives. We looked forward to hearing you laugh, seeing you smile, holding you in our arms.
    You are loved by your Mom and Dad and your brother and the rest of your family. I hope you know that.
    The Bible tells us that you are wonderfully made, designed by God Himself. The book of Psalms says that God knew you before he placed you in your mother's womb. You must be something really special for God to change His mind and take you back to be with Him. I know you are special. You were so small and only hours old when you had to leave us. But I promise you, you have already done what only a child of loving parents can do. You have brought your Mom and Dad closer together. You have made them love your big brother all the more. You have made us all draw closer to God.
    There is a time to be born, a time to die, a time to laugh and a time to be sad and a time to morn. Only God knows why the time between those things is short or long.
    Daniel don't be sad for us, don't morn for us, we will survive.
    Daniel, I want you to laugh!
    I want you to shout for joy because you are with your Heavenly Father!
    There is one more thing I want you to do. When Jesus comes to your room, and I know you have one, because the Bible says so, and he offers you His hand to hold and says, "Let's take a walk," go with Him.
    When He shows you all the wonderful Heavenly things He has made including the planets and the stars, remember that all of us, your Mom and Dad, your brother, and your grandparents will be looking at them too. Daniel, we will be thinking of you and looking forward to the day that we can take that walk together.
    With all my love,
    Your Grandfather.
    In Memory of Daniel Thomas Wheeler
    Born 5/4/2011 Died 5/4/2011
    .
×
×
  • Create New...