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-Gramps-

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  1. -Gramps-

    Tips and Hints.

    By -Gramps-,

    Over the last seven years, Diane and I have learned, discovered, or otherwise stumbled upon a few things that have helped us during our adventures on the road.
    1. Velcro computer wiring straps (available from Wal-Mart of course) can keep your coach vertical cabinet doors from flying open while going down the road and hitting a pot hole or expansion joint or worst yet….rolling over a speed bump. Just slip one thru the cabinet handles and snick it down. They have saved our dishes more than once.
    2. If you have area rugs that you have to roll up to bring in your slide outs then roll them up around a pool noodle. This will keep the rug edges from curling when you lay them out at your next stop. They will lay flat instead.
    3. You can create a wine glass caddy to protect your glassware while traveling by cutting the bottom off a beer cozy (the soft collapsible ones) and slipping it over the glass.
    4. Carry a curved sail needle and some uv resistant thread….you never know when you might need to sew up a hole in a slide topper. Silicone uv resistant fabric spray is a good thing to have as well. A coating of that on your toppers will make them last a lot longer.
    5. Mount a paper towel holder somewhere in a compartment on both sides of your coach. It is good to have one roll near the wet bay and another on the patio side to have access to when cooking outside.
    6. I have found that the best thing to clean a really dirty rubber or fiberglass coach roof with is Murphy oil soap. Clorox clean up will help dissolve stubborn stains including sap. Seal and quick clean the roof with Murphy Squirt and Mop. This will leave a nice shine.
    7. Coach closets don’t get much air circulation, we put dryer sheets in them to help keep locked up clothes smelling fresh. A dryer sheet tossed in the dirty clothes bag or drawer is a helpful thing as well.
    8. Washing a coach can be a tiring pain in the neck and back. I use a long handle adjustable nozzle sprayer with a reservoir that allows you to soap down your rig and then rinse it (available at Wal-Mart for nineteen bucks). If you attach an inline water filter to the hose you will not get water spots. I use a carnauba wax car wash. I prefer ArmorAll Extreme Shine car wash solution.
    9. Turtle Wax Ice spray on synthetic wax is good stuff. You can use it on paint, chrome, vinyl, rubber and glass. In other words it’s good for the whole coach and tow car. It can be used as a cleaner even when you are staying in a campground with water restrictions. Spray it on, rub in with a terry cloth, and rub off with a second cloth. It leaves no swirl marks and blends in minor scratches. You are left with a slick, shiny coach when finished.
    10. It’s a good idea to once in a while go through all your basement compartments and storage boxes. You will find out that you are carrying around things you don’t need anymore and find things you thought you were out of that you do need, like wheel lug nut caps.
    11. Keep a cheap volt ohm meter in your electrical bay along with a flashlight and a gallon of distilled water. Makes it much easier to maintain your batteries and make them last longer.
    12. Things don’t roll around in your bay if you strap them together. These things include fishing rods, washing brushes and brooms, hoses. I found some adjustable ball and bungee straps at Lowes that work really well for this purpose.
    13. Always ask any campground or resort that has wifi if they provide wifi client security. This is more than just a password. Client security protects you from other logged on users. If the campground says no or they don’t know, then you must tell your computer you are logged on to a public wifi and turn off file and print sharing. If you don’t take this precaution you could get hacked by a fellow camper.
    14. I use a mixture of Pine-Sol and water to rise out and sanitize my sewer hoses and wet bay. It works just as well as bleach and doesn’t spot my clothes.
    15. There are cell phone repeaters that work. I use a Z-Boost with dual band uni directional antennas. One is for data, one for voice. I mount them to my ladder with pvc pipes coupled together. I can strap em together and store em in my pass thru storage while traveling.
    16. The moment you think that there is nothing wrong with your coach something will break….like a windshield wiper arm.
    17. If your toilet won’t hold water it could be that the ball seal needs cleaning. There is a groove in the seal that will clog and then it can’t well…seal.
    18. Try to take advantage of every space in your coach. I recently attached a piano hinge to the washer dryer plumbing compartment so that I could store things like grocery bags and collapsible crates in there.
    19. Consider placing a wireless thermometer in your fridge. It’s great for helping you keep your beer and stuff from freezing or getting too warm.
    20. When you find a good rv repair facility make every effort to go there when you have something wrong with your coach that you can’t fix yourself or isn’t an emergency repair. I am talking about things like broken air conditioners, body work, slide out repair etc. We take our coach to Terry Labonte RV service in Greensboro NC.
    That’s all for now but I am sure to come up with some more…after all one of my rules is
    “Owning a motor coach is a never ending learning experience.”
    Derrick
    “Gramps”
  2. -Gramps-

    Navistar RV Report

    By -Gramps-,

    I just finished listening to a large Navistar RV conference call hosted by Bill Osborne, president of Navistar RV. I was invited by email to attend this call some weeks ago. The purpose of the call was to quote: “discuss the direction the company is headed, put the story straight about industry rumors and answer any questions our owners have about the company.”
    The call was directed to current owners and after an opening statement there was a brief question and answer period. This was a one way discussion. Questions had to be submitted in advance. I did not submit one. If I had it would have been one specific to my coach and chassis and those types of questions were not answered during the call. Any questions submitted and not answered would be responded to by e-mail later.
    There were 350 participates and 180 questions asked. As soon as I heard that, I thought that there was no way they could all be answered and that was the case. The questions were grouped by category and answered as such. However, before I get to that let me give a synopsis of Mr. Osborne’s statement which included information about not only Navistar RV but Navistar International, the parent company as well.
    The rumors of Navistar, the parent company, going bankrupt or being sold are completely false. They have a new top management team in place, are currently meeting tailpipe emission standards, have signed a new agreement with Cummins for large bore engines for commercial vehicles. Most importantly they have over 1.5 billion dollars in cash on hand and are in the position to become profitable again this year.
    However Navistar is going to focus on the commercial truck business and to that end they will give consideration to any valuable offer for the RV side of the house. In other words they are looking seriously at selling Navistar RV. They are not looking at bankrupting the RV side of the house, dumping warranties and selling off the assets. That describes what the pre-bankrupt Monaco did, not what Navistar wants to do. They want to make Navistar RV, which includes the Monaco, Holiday Rambler and R-Vision lines a profitable, high quality product company.
    After the statement were the question responses. As I said they grouped the questions and answered accordingly.
    The first group had to do with quality control.
    When Navistar bought the old Monaco Company, they had a plan to turn it around. Mr. Osborne reports they are half way to meeting that goal. They introduced some new products at the recent Louisville dealer show including a new Dynasty coach and a new Vacationer. These products had great success along with the towables. Orders from dealers were up 69 percent for towables and 31 percent for motorized rvs.
    Navistar RV has three parts to their turnaround strategy
    Provide high quality product to their customers.
    Provide products that are innovative to the industry.
    Provide good customer service (during warranty period and aftermarket.)

    To that end Navistar RV has initiated a comprehensive technician training program, has moved techs from the closed Oregon facility to Wakarusa. They have initiated a quality control program at their factories which includes bonuses for workers who stop defects from going out the door. This takes some time due to the fact that dealers have a 300 day inventory on their lots and so a lot of coaches are still being sold that were made before the new programs went into effect.
    New dealers and service facilities include what are called tier 2 facilities (dealers who don’t carry the product but will service) are being signed now.
    Platinum service plan is now being implemented and the first platinum dealer is Alliance Coach.
    Second group of questions dealt with Navistar RV's market exposure including dealers and products.
    New dealers are being signed. They are not located in all states and that has been a problem for service, but is being worked on. Products are being improved. New ones will be offered. The Monaco Signature series will be making a return. There is a possibility of a re-launch of the Safari and Beaver lines now that Navistar has the ability to find high bore engines for larger coaches. The Trip and Vista coaches, as of today, are being discontinued. The orders for those coaches have been disappointing and it is painfully obvious the market will not support that line any longer, (if it ever did, in my opinion).
    Next set of questions dealt with EPA emissions.
    All Maxxforce engines meet current EPA tailpipe emission standards either directly or through credits. All engines will be SCR in the future.
    There was a question about parts availability for older coaches. Navistar RV is committed to providing part support directly when possible. It is sometimes difficult because some part suppliers have gone out of business but alternative channels will be provided.
    Mr Osborne also addressed the reason that Navistar RV did not honor warranties for coaches sold by the pre-bankrupt Monaco.
    This is how I understood it.
    He explained that they were not allowed to pick up those warranties by judgment of the bankruptcy court. Each bankruptcy is an individual case and some RV companies that went bankrupt and were purchased along with those obligations. That did not happen in this case. Monaco ran out of operating cash. They did not own any debt to suppliers or financial institutions. Their liabilities were payroll and warranties and the court relieved them of both.
    That ended the question period of the call. The call ended with Mr Osborne once again assuring us owners of the company’s commitment to quality and great customer service. He appreciated our participation, informed us that he hoped to do this again in the future. He also told us the call would be available on the Navistar website soon.
    Gramps.
  3. -Gramps-

    Route 89

    By -Gramps-,

    It has been a peaceful two weeks since May 22, the day we left our brick house in Portsmouth. Once again we had to take our coach on the road for service before we could actually start our first long trip this year. The coach hasn’t been parked the whole time since our last long venture, which took place last September, I think. We made a fall trip to our spot at Deer Creek Motor Coach resort (the one in Virginia). I left Diane there while I made a trip back home in the car for work-related reasons (why else would I leave the mountains?).
    In October, we hoped to make a trip to Asheville, North Carolina, to celebrate our fortieth wedding anniversary, but that didn’t work out, so we decided to go to Cape Hatteras, instead. We had a beautiful three days out of a planned seven, and then an uninvited guest named Sandy decided to crash our party. We had to pack up the coach and flee … as fast as we could. If we had stayed and tried to ride out a storm with an unpredictable potential for damage, we would have been stuck there for months; at least our coach would have been.
    We dropped the coach off at North River campground, which was the site of our next two group campouts, and then jumped in the car and made it home. Fortunately for us, Sandy decided that Portsmouth was not worth her time to visit. We sat in front of the TV, glad that we escaped all the wet, windy, destruction but at the same time feeling very sad for the people of New England.
    Between November and March we camped one weekend a month with either our Good Sam’s chapter or our FMCA chapter friends. This included two Christmas parties and three trips back to North River Campground (located near the Great Dismal Swamp) one to Roanoke Rapids, North Carolina, and one to the Virginia Beach oceanfront. They were easy fun trips. Our close friends Gary and Janis, who relocated their coach back in Elizabeth City, were there with us which made the trips extra special.
    One of the great highlights of our last group campout was the fact that my brother Rod and his wife Sharon joined us with their brand-new 26-foot Forest River travel-trailer. It is a very nice rig, I might add. They love it, and Picard, their Saint Bernard, does too.
    April and May were dedicated to using the weekends to shop for parts and materials to refurbish our kitchen. That project left very little energy for motor coaching. We christened our almost finished new kitchen with a special Mother’s Day/Joel’s Birthday Brunch. I did all the cooking…which consisted of a really good French Toast Casserole, Spinach Quiche, and a fresh fruit including bannans, blueberries, strawberries, (I forget the grapes) and strawberry-honey flavored yogurt salad.
    During the week of May15 our new Kitchen floor was installed and then all was done. Now, we really had the bug to hit the road again.
    We needed to get the coach inspected, and it needed an oil change. On the way to the service facility I discovered that the dash air was on the fritz again. It was a hot day and all it did was blow nice, warm air. I hoped that all it needed was a bit of Freon, but it turned out to be a much bigger problem than that so we made an appointment to visit Terry Labonte RV service. The guys there always take good care of us and our unusual Workhorse chassis.
    We arrived at Terry Labonte's lot late in the day, spent the night, and the next morning the techs discovered that we needed a new compressor, which they had in stock. They had the coach repaired by five that afternoon, so we spent another night in the lot, had Chick-Fil- A for dinner, and hit the road early the next morning.
    This all brings us to the afternoon of Friday the 24, when we climbed up Route 89 to Edmonds Road and then soon arrived at our beautiful lot at Deer Creek. It was a bit rainy and cold, but we didn’t care a bit. Early the next day I received a last minute invite to play golf with three friends (including my good friend Gordy) at the Blue Ridge Country club.
    I didn't play as well as I would have liked but I have improved since the last time I played the same course, so I guess I am moving in the right direction. Gordy said so and his opinion is very valuable.
    The next eight days provided a lot of opportunities to do a lot of things we enjoy. We made a few day trips to the small towns we love to visit around here including Galax, Sparta, Mt. Airy, West Jefferson, and Elkin. Each town has its own personality and things we like.
    Galax had a fifties car show which was fun. While there we made a run to Lowes buy some small parts for the coach including parts to mount my Z-Boost cell booster antenna.
    Sparta is an artist community with art galleries, good places to eat and clothing stores with squeaky wooden floors. We found some great clothing bargains there.
    West Jefferson is a very quaint and pretty place with a cheese factory and factory cheese shop located downtown along with an old classic movie house that shows first run movies for five bucks. There is a great old hardware store with a creaky wood floor where I found and purchased a handsome red handled Case pocket knife. The people of West Jefferson are some of the friendliest you will meet anywhere. We had lunch there, sitting outside with Teddy Bear. We devoured Bar-B-Que sandwiches, potato salad and fresh apple pie with ice cream for 7 bucks each. Remember, you can’t have good southern Bar-B-Que without sweet tea to go with it. That is a rule.
    We traveled back down route 89 so we could visit Elkin with our friends Bob and Wanda. We made a special trip to the Slightly Askew Winery, where you can buy some very unusual flavors. We love their wines and came back with a mixed almost case of bottles. From there we visited McRitchie’s winery and cider works for our second wine tasting. It was a beautiful day full of good flavors and good conversation with good people.
    The next few days were a mixture of coach washing, waxing, trip to Wal-Mart, more coach maintenance, and two more golf outings…both to the beautiful Crest View Golf Course just around the corner from Deer Creek. We met new owners, who will become friends, and we were reunited with already friends while attending the graduation party for Louie and Jesse, son and daughter of Laura and Barry, who built this special place. We enjoyed drink, food, fellowship and games.
    Memorial Day morning found us at a huge breakfast at Bob and Marlene’s beautiful site where there was plenty of smiles and food for everyone to get as much of both as they wanted.
    We made some new friends while walking thru Cool Breeze RV resort which is located right across the nine hole golf course next to our resort. We discovered a Holiday Rambler club chapter having a rally there. A new Vacationer caught my eye. It was a very late model one with a full wall slide and a great paint job. Eddie, the owner, happened to be outside trying to get his cable to work. A couple of other members were in the coach trying to figure out why there was no signal. This is the kind of think I love to figure out, so I immediately volunteered to help Eddie and his wife Sylvia, solve this electronic puzzle. I discovered that the TV antenna amplifier, which is supposed to switch to park cable when turned off, was not working. I made a temporary fix and advised Eddie that he should replace the stock amp with a more powerful Winegard digital TV antenna meter and amp. Eddie did just that, after visiting our coach to see how the same device works in our coach. It meant a trip to Camping World in Statesville, but it was worth it.
    That evening they invited us to be their guests at the club dinner out at the Mountain Surf Seafood restaurant, one of our favorite places, located just up the street from both resorts. We accepted, and as a result had a good dinner, and more good conversation with good people. Diane and I were also invited to join the club. We are giving that serious consideration.
    After dinner, we had dessert at the Cool Breeze meeting room. Before that Eddie and I performed a successful install of the new amp. We tested it and found that the park cable and off air worked just the way we wanted it to.
    We received another invite to attend a birthday dinner for Teddy, one of the owners and a golfing buddy of mine. We caravanned to Dobson, N.C., to a really fun place called The Depot, where I consumed a great half rack of baby back ribs with sweet tea, Cole slaw, sweet potato casserole, and hush puppies. We sat across the table from fellow owners Bill, his wife Connie and their son Mark, who was visiting from Washington, D.C. We talked about family, occupations, and the many things that’s go along with those two subjects. In other words, it was another evening of good food and good conversation with good people. Are you starting to see a pattern here?
    Diane and I drove back on our own and on the way we made a fortuitous wrong turn. We found ourselves missing our exit off I-77 to route 89 and so we took another road over to Fancy Gap where we turned onto the Blue Ridge Parkway, just as the sun was beginning to set on our right. It was a really pretty and peaceful drive back to our home. I opened the sun roof and let the mountain air blow in. Diane and I didn’t say much, we both were just enjoying the peaceful scenery.
    Diane loves the mountains just as I do. My roots are here. Diane’s heart is here, as it has been for years starting when we were young, in love, broke and sleeping in a tent. As we were driving she made the comment that our lives are like glasses of water and sand. Most of the time we have so many things happening in our lives that we are just shook up and the water in the glass is cloudy and brown. The mountains bring God’s peace and thoughts become calmer, our spirits become still. The sand in the glass settles to the bottom and things are then clear. I am not relating this the exact way that she expressed this, but the meaning is there I am sure.
    Tomorrow will find us on Route 89 and returning to our busy lives back in the big city. We do have friends and family there we want to see. Work is calling (literally) as well. We are taking some new clothes back with us, along with new pictures, but more important we are taking back new memories of this place, this special community called Deer Creek.
    We will be returning here. I say the sooner the better.
    Derrick
    "Gramps"
  4. -Gramps-
    I promised some RV stories. Well I found a few. I doubt they are true, but they may bring a smile.
    A couple from Minneapolis decided to go to Florida to thaw out during one particularly icy winter. They planned to stay at the very same RV park where they spent their 15th wedding anniversary a decade earlier. Because of hectic schedules, it was difficult to coordinate their travel dates. So, the husband left Minnesota alone with their fifth wheel trailer. His wife would fly to join him the day after his arrival.
    The husband checked into the RV park. To his surprise and delight there was a cyber cafe next to the recreation room, so he decided to send an e-mail to his wife. However, in doing so, he accidentally mis-typed one letter in her email address
    Meanwhile, somewhere in Houston, a widow had just returned home from her husband's funeral. He was a minister of many years who had died of a sudden heart attack. The widow decided to check her email, expecting messages from relatives and friends. After reading the first message, she fainted. The widow's son rushed into the room, found his mother on the floor and saw the message on the computer screen:
    To: My Loving Wife
    Subject: I've Arrived
    I know you're surprised to hear from me. They have computers here now and you are allowed to send e-mails to your loved ones. I've just arrived and have been checked in. I see that everything has been prepared for your arrival tomorrow. I look forward to seeing you then. Hope your journey is as uneventful as mine was.
    P.S. Sure is hot down here!
    Ray, an RVer from Omaha, travels in his motorhome with a talkative but foul-mouthed parrot. One day in a campground near Gila Bend, Ariz., the bird's swearing got to be too much. So Ray grabbed it by the throat and yelled "Stop it!" But only minutes later, the bird was swearing again.
    The next day, the bird yelled so loudly that the couple next door in a big fifth wheel stopped by to demand its silence. Desperate, Ray locked the bird in a kitchen cabinet. But it didn't help: the bird kept right on swearing. The next day, the bird was even worse. So, as a last resort, Ray tossed it into his spacious Dometic freezer. After five minutes, all was quiet. Worried the bird might be freezing, Ray took it out.
    "I'm sorry," confessed the suddenly polite bird. "I promise to never swear again."
    Ray was astonished. He couldn't understand the change in attitude.
    "By the way," asked the parrot, "what did the chicken do?"
    Getting away from their high-stress jobs, a couple spends relaxing weekends in their motor home at a local RV campground at a nearby lake. When they found their peace and quiet disturbed by well-meaning, but unwelcome, visits from other campers, they devised a plan to assure themselves some privacy.
    Now, when they set up camp, they place this sign on the door of their RV:
    "Insurance agent. Ask about our term-life package."

    There was once a lady who was rather old-fashioned, always quite delicate and elegant, especially in her language. She and her husband were planning a week's vacation in Arizona, so she wrote to a particular RV campground asking for a reservation. She wanted to make sure the campground was fully equipped, but didn't quite know how to ask about the toilet facilities. She just couldn't bring herself to write the word "toilet" in her letter. After much deliberation, she finally came up with the old-fashioned term BATHROOM COMMODE. But when she wrote that down, she still thought she was being too forward. So she started all over again, rewrote the entire letter referring to the bathroom commode merely as the BC: "Does the campground have it's own BC?" is what she actually wrote.
    Well, the RV campground owner wasn't old-fashioned at all and when he got the letter, he just couldn't figure out what the lady was talking about. That BC business really stumped him. After worrying about it for awhile, he showed the letter to several campers, but they couldn't imagine what the lady meant either. So the campground owner, finally coming to the conclusion that the lady must be asking about the local Baptist Church, sat down and wrote the following reply:
    Dear Madam:
    I regret very much the delay in answering your letter, but I now take pleasure in informing you that a BC is located nine miles north of the campground and is capable of seating 250 people at one time. I admit it is quite a distance away, if you are in the habit of going regularly, but no doubt you will be pleased to know that a great number of people take their lunches along and make a day of it. They usually arrive early and stay late. It is such a beautiful facility and the acoustics are marvelous...even the normal delivery sounds can be heard. The last time my wife and I went was six years ago, and it was so crowded we had to stand up the whole time we were there. It may interest you to know that right now a supper is planned to raise money to buy more seats. They are going to hold it in the basement of the BC. I would like to say it pains me very much not to be able to go more regularly, but it surely is no lack of desire on my part. As we grow old, it seems to be more of an effort, particularly in cold weather. If you do decide to come down to our campground, perhaps I could go with you the first time you go, sit with you, and introduce you to all the other folks. Remember, this is a friendly community.
    Sincerely, (RV Campground Owner)

    An RVer in a motorhome got hopelessly bogged down in an unexpected muddy hole along a dirt road. After a few minutes, a passing farmer drove by on his tractor and offered to pull him out for only $20. After the motorhome was back on dry ground, the RVer said to the farmer, "At those prices, I bet you're pulling vehicles out of this mud day and night."
    "Can't," replied the farmer. "At night I haul water for the hole."
    A national park game warden stopped a man who was heading back to his motorhome with two buckets of bass . He asked the man, " Do you have a license to catch those fish?"
    The man replied, " No sir - Don't need one. These are my pet bass."
    " Pet bass?" the warden asked.
    "Yes, sir. Every night I take these here bass down to the lake and let them swim around for a while. I whistle and they jump back into their buckets, and I take them home."
    " That's crazy! Bass can't do that!" said the warden.
    The man looked at the game warden for a moment, and then said, " It's not crazy, I'll show you."
    " OK." said the warden, " do it!"
    The man quickly poured the bass into the lake and stood and waited.
    After several minutes, the game warden turned to the man and said " Well?"
    " Well, what?" the man responded.
    " Well, when are you going to call them back?" the game warden asked.
    " Call who back?" the man asked.
    " The BASS!" yelled the warden.
    " What bass?" the man asked.

    While on a road trip, an elderly couple stopped at a roadside restaurant for lunch. After finishing their meal, they left the restaurant, and resumed their trip.
    When leaving, the elderly woman unknowingly left her glasses on the table, and she didn't miss them until they had been driving about forty minutes. By then, to add to the aggravation, they had to travel quite a distance before they could find a place to turn their motorhome around, in order to return to the restaurant to retrieve her glasses.
    All the way back, the elderly husband became the classic grouchy old man. He fussed and complained, and scolded his wife relentlessly during the entire return drive. The more he chided her, the more agitated he became. He just wouldn't let up one minute.
    To her relief, they finally arrived at the restaurant. As the woman got out of motorhome, and hurried inside to retrieve her glasses, the old geezer opened his window and yelled to her, "While you're in there, you might as well get my hat and the credit card."

    Gramps
  5. -Gramps-

    Don't Forget to Laugh.

    By -Gramps-,

    One of my rules for owning a Motorcoach is Rule Number Two, which contains the following: Patience is not only a virtue but a necessity.
    Rule Two and Rule Five (my latest rule) work very closely together
    Rule Number Five: When owning a Motorcoach Don’t Forget to Laugh.
    You must be able to laugh even if it kills you.
    When you are an RVer, having a sense of humor and the ability to laugh at troubles, is as much of a necessity as owning a spare sewer hose.
    For example; I related a story about the first accident I had with our first coach when it was new. I bumped one corner of the coach into a tree. That upset me considerably, of course. Another RVer, who witnessed the accident, had some words of advice for me.
    “Hey, just go ahead and hit the other seven corners and get it over with!”
    The humor and the logic of this sarcastic statement was hidden from me at the time it was spoken, but I have owned a coach long enough to completely understand it’s meaning now.
    I should have understood it then; after all, I have used humor to get through life for as long as I can remember.
    I have been told I am a funny guy. I appreciate that, even if the person saying it did not mean it as a compliment. One of the first persons in my life to tell me that I was funny, even when it might not have been the best time, was my mom. She knew better than anyone.
    For example: One Wednesday afternoon when I was in the second grade, I brought home a note from my teacher. It was one of those notes composed with red ink, like the teacher wants the parent to think it is written in blood. The note said: “Derrick is still not working up to his potential. He daydreams constantly, and when asked questions during class responds with a joke or other inappropriate remark. I would appreciate your attention to this matter. Sincerely, Mrs. Mather.”
    Well, Mom read the note, and got a bit upset with me. I don’t know why, it wasn't like this was my first red note. I brought more than a few home the year before.
    “When are you going to quit goofing off in class?” she asked. “I am so tired of getting these notes. I should just knock you into next week!”
    “I wish you would,” I said. “I have a test on Friday and I ‘m not ready for it.”
    And that is when the fight started.
    Now that reminds me of another story, emphasis on the word story.
    One day a few summers ago I was driving down the road in my truck when one of those quick hard rain showers hit. The road quickly had pools of water and people were stopping short all over the place. A big black Escalade, in front of me, slammed on its brakes when it hit one of these slick pools of water. I could barely see with the hard rain coming down. I stopped just a bit short and tapped the rear end of the car.
    I got out of my car just as the other driver got out of his. He looked very mad, but that was no problem, he was a dwarf. He walked to the back of his car and saw his busted tail light.
    He looked up angrily at me.
    “I AM NOT HAPPY!" he said.
    I looked at him and replied: “You’re not? Then which one are you?”
    And that is when the fight started.
    What is humor, anyway? Where does this uniquely human ability come from?
    Wikipedia defines it this way:
    Humour or humor is the tendency of particular cognitive experiences to provoke laughter and provide amusement. The term derives from the humeral medicine of the ancient Greeks, which taught that the balance of fluids in the human body, known as humors (Latin: humor, "body fluid"), control human health and emotion.
    People of all ages and cultures respond to humor. The majority of people are able to experience humor, i.e., to be amused, to laugh or smile at something funny, and thus they are considered to have a sense of humor. The hypothetical person lacking a sense of humor would likely find the behavior induced by humor to be inexplicable, strange, or even irrational. Though ultimately decided by personal taste, the extent to which a person will find something humorous depends upon a host of variables, including geographical location, culture, and maturity, level of education, intelligence and context. For example, young children may favor slapstick, such as Punch and Judy puppet shows (I preferred The Three Stooges) or cartoons such as Tom and Jerry. Satire may rely more on understanding the target of the humor and thus tends to appeal to more mature audiences.
    Many theories exist about what humor is and what social function it serves. The prevailing types of theories attempting to account for the existence of humor include psychological theories, the vast majority of which consider humor-induced behavior to be very healthy; spiritual theories, which may, for instance, consider humor to be a "gift from God"; and theories which consider humor to be an unexplainable mystery, very much like a mystical experience.
    I certainly believe that laughter and humor come from God. He obviously has a sense of humor as well; after all He created human beings. I can’t image that He was only looking to have a pleasant conversation. He has rules and doesn’t want us to misbehave but He must want to have some good guffaws along with all the tears his human children can provide.
    We are the same way with our children are we not?
    That reminds me of another story: (this one is true)
    When my daughters were very young I caught them playing with a few dollar bills that they lifted from my wallet. They were drawing beards and mustaches on the president's faces. Instead of getting mad at them for taking my dough without asking (the answer would have been no) I acted shocked that they would be defacing US Currency.
    “You can go to jail for defacing money! Diane what are we going to do about this?”
    “Maybe I should call the US treasury and report them!”
    At this point the girls started to tear up and begged us not to call. They tried to give the money back to me but I told them I couldn’t carry damaged, defaced money around with me.
    I left their room. A few minutes later I heard water running in their bathroom and whispers coming from behind the closed door.
    I walked into the room and found them with a sink full of soapy water trying to wash the ink off the bills.
    “OH NO, NOW YOU ARE MONEY LAUNDERING?!”
    They burst into tears…I can be so mean sometimes but I found it hilarious then and still do now. Of course the girls hate it when I tell this story.
    The Bible has many references to laughter. Most are about laughing at one’s enemies as opposed to laughing at some joke or circumstance, but there are examples of that in a few places.
    Ecclesiastes 3:4: A time to weep, and a time to laugh, a time to morn and a time to dance.
    I don’t like to morn. I am not much of a dancer, but I love to laugh.
    Jesus once said in reference to how we judge others that how can you remove the speck from your brother’s eye when you have a plank in your own?
    I have always found that funny….a board sticking out of my eye.
    The story of Balaam’s donkey is humorous. The Bible uses the more ancient word for donkey but it will not work here. Anyway, Balaam does not want to curse the Israelites for this very rich enemy King, but changes his mind when the price to do so gets to be so big he can’t refuse. He rides out to do this dirty dead. He and his ***, sorry, donkey, are going down this tight mountain path when an angel with a very big sword appears and blocks the way. The poor beast sees the angel but Balaam does not, so he starts to beat the unfortunate animal when it runs the other way. The donkey moves back to the path but is so afraid of the angel that he starts to cringe against the mountain wall which traps Balaam’s foot. He starts to beat the donkey once again. The donkey has had enough so she lays down which really ticks the prophet off so he beats her once more but much harder.
    This time the Donkey speaks up…”Hey what have I ever done to you that would make you hit me three times?”
    The donkey not only talks but counts as well.
    The first book of Kings Chapter 18 tells the story of Elijah and the prophets of Baal. Elijah and the prophets get into a contest over whose God is real. They meet on Mt Carmel for a fire from heaven shoot out. The prophets go first asking their god to send down fire and consume their pile of ox parts. They dance around, cutting themselves with knives and making an awfully loud racket at the same time. They did this for hours.
    Elijah makes good use of sarcasm and hurls taunts at them.
    “Hey shout louder! Surely he is a god! Maybe he is deep in thought or busy or traveling somewhere! Maybe you just need to wake him, or he stopped alongside the road!
    In other words the god of the prophets of Baal has stopped to take a pee.
    Elijah was not one for political correctness, that is for sure.
    And that reminds me of another story.
    Many years ago I told what I consider to be the best joke I know to a bunch of tired people on a plane in Chicago. We were stuck on the runway during a snow delay. I got bored with just sitting there so I decided to kill some time. I jumped up out of my seat and moved to the front of the passengers
    “Hey I want to tell you this story!"
    I had everyone's attention so I made the best of it.
    During World War One there was this private in the trenches waiting to be issued a rifle. They ran out of guns and bayonets before he could get his so he asked his sergeant what he was suppose to do.
    “Here take this” the sarge said as he handed the private a broom handle.
    “What do I do with this?” the private asked.
    “You point it at the Germans and go Bangity..bangity…bang!”
    The shocked private replied “That isn’t going to work!”
    The sarge said "you’re right" and he took the handle back and tied a string on the end of it.
    The Private said "what does that do?"
    "You point it at the Germans and go stabity..stabity ..stab, now listen to your Sarge and go out there and fight!”
    "Yes Sir! says the Private….he hits the trenches and there is a big bloody battle, bodies everywhere. The private points his weapon: Bangity Bangity Bang!….The private is amazed. Many Germans go down and as he Stabity Stabity..Stabs! and Banigity Bangity Bangs them over and over again.
    For hours they fight until the private thinks he is the only man left alive. Then he sees one German rising out of a trench on the other side of the dusty, smokey, battlefield The German comes towards him. The private takes a shot at him…. Bangity bangity bang!. The German keeps coming. Bangity Bangity Bang!. He still keeps coming and then he is on top of our brave private.He lunges at the enemy with all his strength...... Stabity Stabity STAB!.... Statbity Stabity STAB!
    It doesn’t work. The German plows over the poor private. The German breaks the private’s arm, his leg, and his back. As the private is lying in the mud and the German moves away, he hears the German saying:
    TANKITY...TANKITY...TANK!
    The Passengers all laughed until it hurt.
    Man I kill myself sometimes.
    My next entry will include Motorcoaching stories that you just have to laugh at. When that will be? I have no idea. The stories don't have to be mine. If you have a good one, send it to me. I promise to tell where it came from, unless you don't want me to.
    Gramps
    .
  6. -Gramps-

    Warming up the coach

    By -Gramps-,

    Well, it is supposed to get down to 18 degrees tonight around here. I have the wet bay heater running. I bypassed the snap fuse and replaced it with a 30-amp auto fuse. There is a 120-volt heater running in the cargo bay next to the hot water heater. I have 4 inches of insulation stuffed in the fridge access, with the ice maker water supply disconnected. I have insulation in the wet bay and more in the fresh water tank compartment. A second ceramic heater is running in the coach with all the cabinets and shower doors open. The furnace is set at 40 degrees. Right now it is 35 outside and the coach is at 69 inside. I think I should be safe. I don't want to loose my water pump and ice maker solenoid again, so I decided to stay ahead of this cold snap.
    Gramps
  7. -Gramps-

    It's A Stupid Game

    By -Gramps-,

    It’s a stupid game. A famous person described it as a good walk spoiled. Someone else said it is a lot of walking, broken up by disappointment and bad arithmetic. I am talking about the game of golf. It may be a stupid game, an opinion shared by David Feherty, who played on the European Ryder Cup team a few decades ago, but it is also my new passion. I guess that means that golf is my new stupid passion.
    In my opinion I am terrible at it. My best game so far is a round in the high 80s. Now, in fairness to myself, that score was the result of a round of golf on a regular-size course. When I play 18 holes on my “home course” at Deer Creek Motorcoach resort (the one in Virginia), my score can be as low as 54.
    FIFTY FOUR! Wow, you say. Well, it isn’t all that remarkable considering it is a nine-hole pitch and putt with the longest hole sitting a mere 125 yards from the tee. Then again, maybe it is remarkable. The greens are the size of pot holders, the fairways narrow as a 1960s era men’s dress tie, and there are numerous hidden water traps along with some that are obvious to the eye. In other words, my short game is not bad.
    Put me on a large course with big greens, and the story changes.
    I cannot drive worth the time it takes me to hunt for a lost cheap ball. Someone once said that if I hit it right, it’s a slice; if I hit it left, it’s a hook ; if I hit it straight it’s a miracle.
    That pretty much sums it up for me.
    I am an active member of the Lambert’s Point Golf Course Ball Exchange Program.
    Lambert’s Point is a nine-hole golf course in Norfolk, Virginia, that is built on top of what used to be a huge landfill and garbage dump. It sits in the elbow of the Elizabeth River and so it is surrounded by water on two sides and a driving range on one side. I tend to lose balls off the first tee into the river on the right side. I just can’t leave my 1 wood in the bag! I have a very fast back swing and an even faster down swing, but somewhere in the process of going up and down, my arms just seem to get confused. As a result, my hands are pointing in the wrong direction, which opens the club face and I hit this very long and ugly slice.
    I joke that my slice is so bad that a soft drink is named after it.
    On the rare occasion that I don’t slice, it is usually because I skull the ball and stick it in the mix of marsh grass, blackberry bushes, and cattails that surround the course. So the hunt begins. I lose one ball and find three. Not a bad exchange rate, if you ask me.
    I keep working at it. I shine my clubs thinking that will add some polish to my game. I blow through buckets of balls at the Portsmouth City Park Links driving range. I watch training videos and take advice from all the guys I play with. So far, not much has helped.
    David Feherty said that Jim Furyk’s driver swing looks like an octopus falling out of a tree. An octopus has some coordination, some fluidity, and some intelligence. So in comparison, my swing must look like my driver is falling off the back of a moving truck.
    My second shot shows some promise. I can take a fairway wood or a hybrid and knock the crap out of the ball. It just too bad that the crapless ball tends to go left. On occasion, however, I have hit the green on a par-five hole in two if I aim right. Once on the green, I can putt decently. My playing companions seem to have a higher opinion of my game than I do.
    I am improving. I know which club to use based on distance from the pin. I have learned the terms of golf and I can now drive well at the range when loading up the tee from bucket number two. The key is shooting straight from the first tee and hitting the green in regulation.
    Although I have been golfing for only two years, I am not totally new to the game. I spent the last 10 of my first 12 years living next door to the Ocean View Municipal Golf Course in Norfolk, Virginia. Our two-bedroom bungalow house was located at 609 Greenview Lane, right across from hole number 3. I used to wade in the ditch that ran parallel with the fairway and look for golf balls. We could be sitting at the dinner table and hear “Fore!!” and a couple of seconds later a ball would hit the roof of our house. My brother Rodney and I would charge out the back door and hunt for the ball to add to our sizable collection kept in buckets in our car port. We would clean them up and sell them, possibly back to the golfers who lost them, for a tidy profit. We would cut the covers off damaged balls, slice the rubber band inside and watch the ball hop like some crazed animal all over the carport pad.
    I used to stand for hours, peering thru the 30-foot tall chain link fence, that semi-protected our street, and the kids who played on it from the errant balls that hooked left. I watched the carts pull up at the tee. I was fascinated by the clothes the golfers wore, and the clubs they used. I watched the balls fly down the fairway. I heard the congratulations and sometimes the swear words coming from the golfers. I so wanted to play on that course.
    I wanted to be a golfer and play on the course for real.
    I had a couple of clubs. One was a shortened persimmon wood driver, the head held on with masking tape and glue. I salvaged that club from a water hazard. The other club was a nine iron that the pastor of our church gave me. I would sneak out onto hole 3 just before dark, wait until I knew no one was going to find me, and I would tee up a ball for myself. I could hit it hard and straight. I could par hole 3, a 369-yard par four, the only hole I played, with that old driver, that also was my putter and my nine iron.
    Why can’t I do that now?! Just a few weeks ago I got my 50-year-old wish. I played Ocean View with my friend John, a retired school principal and a good golfer. We formed a foursome with a couple of ladies, who like us, had no reserved tee time. It was fun but at the same time a bit surreal. John drove a cart with our clubs while I walked with the ladies who were playing nine holes on foot. When we hit the tee at 3, I looked to my left and saw my old home, the 609 easy to spot on the front of the house. I could almost see my Mom coming out the front door to check if I had sneaked out onto the course.
    I thought about those days. Now here I was 50 years later playing for real.
    I teed up my ball, coiled up for the hit and sliced the ball into the fairway of hole 5.
    CRAP!
    Why do I keep playing this stupid game? I will tell you why. I play for the memories, for the time I spend with friends, including my motor coaching ones, and for that great shot that I make every now and then. I play for the green grass, the blue sky and the cheap clubhouse hot dogs.
    I play it in spite of that shot off tee 3 that went so far right that Teddy Bear, my Cocker Spaniel, couldn’t find the ball if it was wrapped in bacon.
    I sort of fudged that last line from Feherty. He won’t care. Fudging is allowed in golf.
    It may be a stupid game. My wife sure thinks so, but golfing is now as much a part of my life as motor coaching is. They are intertwined. I have two sets of clubs, one for the coach and one at home.
    In the months and years ahead, I hope to drive my coach to somewhere new and find a beautiful golf course that has a good ball exchange program and is looking for new members. Then, again, maybe I will make that miracle shot and hit the greens in regulation.
    Derrick
  8. -Gramps-
    I can’t really tell you where my mind has been the last two months. The summer has been blazing hot and my creative writing juices seemed to just dry up. So, as a result, I have not posted a new blog entry since April something. Now it is time to fix that.
    It has been a hot summer so far, and a busy one as well. My biggest project has been installing the background music wiring and speakers, point of sale network, telephone system and computer network for a new restaurant in Colonial Williamsburg called the DoG Street Pub. The Pub, as I have come to call it, is a British Pub Fare restaurant with an American twist. They serve lots of craft beers, on tap and in the bottle, along with comfort food like fish and chips, bangers and mash, Scotch eggs and lots of other good things. The Pub opened to the public in June after a delay of about ten days. The goal had been to open Memorial Day, and that was why I was working so hard; to finish my part of it.
    In the early morning hours of Memorial Day, two days before opening, the interior of the place caught on fire. The fire started in a new light fixture that had paper in it. Not a good thing. I found out about the news online, and made a quick phone call to the project manager, who asked me to come make an inspection of all my work. At that point no one was sure what caused the fire, so I needed to make sure it was not some fault in my wiring or equipment. I drove to Williamsburg and spent the next few hours inspecting the wiring. Many speakers had to be removed because of water collecting in the ceiling.
    Remarkably the damage was minimal considering the extent of the fire. The sprinkler system extinguished it very quickly.
    None of my work was damaged. Seven days later the Pub had its soft opening, guests by invitation only.
    Diane and I drove our coach to Williamsburg, set up camp at the Anvil Campground, changed into some party clothes and drove over to the Pub by Six O’clock. We mingled with friends and strangers as the kitchen and wait staff brought sample after sample of the good food they had created. We had crispy Calamari Fingers, Fish and Chips, homemade split pea soup with lots of real bacon, crab and lemon, prime rib, lots of really good cheeses (I found out that I like Stilton cheese), steamed mussels, and of course really great craft beer and British cider. We left the pub stuffed and happy.
    The next morning we headed up 64 west to 81 south. Our home at Deer Creek MotorCoach Resort was waiting for us
    The DoG Street Pub is a gorgeous place with great food. I was very pleased to be a small part of it coming to be. If any of my fellow motorcoachers are planning a trip to Williamsburg, make sure you make a visit to this fine establishment part of your trip. You will not regret it
    I fell in love with the Dog Street Pub….this was fall number three for the year.
    What was fall number one and two you ask…..? Well, I am about to tell you.
    I will pick up where I left off in April:
    Diane, Teddy Bear and I left Greensboro just after lunch with Savannah, Georgia as our next destination.
    We hit Interstate 85 and drove through Charlotte on the way down south. Diane and I lived in Charlotte for about four years many years ago. We drove past our first apartment building complex which is visible from the interstate. It wasn’t a bad place as long as no one was shooting at us. We only lived there a year before we felt it better to move to a quieter area of Charlotte.
    Our trip took us around the city, past Carowinds. I was shocked at just how big Charlotte is now.
    Once leaving Charlotte, it was smooth sailing to the Oaks Campground just outside Savannah. We were fortunate to book an available spot there. Diane made a quick reservation by phone, just a few miles and a couple of I-95 exits from the site. Earlier we had discovered that all the KOAs and any other campgrounds that we knew about were all booked. It was Good Friday and the snow birds were heading north from Florida and they were packing the campgrounds.
    We drove the access road to the campground. It was a winding narrow thing deep into the moss covered woods. We arrived about five, checked in and happily discovered that there was a chef there selling very good bar-b-que from a place called Jacks’s that apparently is pretty famous in the area for making excellent pulled pork. Diane bought the last two plates he had while I set up camp. It really hit the spot for us.
    We had a quiet evening and left early the next morning for Jacksonville and points further south. I don’t remember anything eventful happening during our trip to Melbourne. Then again it has been three months and I am lucky to remember what happened last week.
    We decided (actually Diane decided) that we should stay at a place called Wickham Park in Melbourne. I had never been there before but Diane had scouted the place during a previous trip. The park has electrical hookups, water and a dump station. The back in sites are huge and grass covered. We backed up to a large cat tailed surrounded pond. Next to us was a disc golf course. I had no equipment to play with but if I did I bet I would be better at disc golf than standard golf.
    Our first view of the area around us was nice, but we didn’t spend any time sightseeing, we wanted to see our new grandson and his parents. We set up camp, settled Teddy down with a treat and headed out the door.
    A few minutes later we were introduced by his proud, happy parents to Gavin Thomas, our new grandson.
    I fell in love with my new grandson, just as I did with all my grandkids, but there was something very special about this occasion.
    Gavin was so small and so cute. I was mostly a quiet observer of Gavin in the arms of Jeri, his mother, and in the arms of Yia-Yia Diane, his Greek Grandmother.
    I grilled steaks for everyone. We had a very pleasant evening. Dylan, Gavin’s big brother, played Mario Cart with me. I also introduced him to Angry Birds on my tablet. It was Gavin, however, that was the center of attention and everyone, including Dylan, was happy with that.
    About eight o’clock we headed home to the coach. We didn’t want our visit to tire the baby and his mom.
    Diane and I had a great time with Tom and Jeri, Dylan and Gavin. We made it a point not to make our daily visits too long. They would have liked it if we stayed around all day, but I get tired of myself after about eight hours (and there is nothing I can do about that unless I am sleeping!) so I knew when to call it a day.
    There were some special moments. Tom and I went golfing at the local city nine hole course. We played eighteen holes and had a very good time. Tom thought it was funny that I always put sunscreen on my knees first…I don’t know why I do that. We all went together for baby’s first excursion to Del’s Freeze, a great ice cream shop.
    We spent five days and six nights in Melbourne and then it was time to head back north. Diane and I spent most of those five days with the family but we also spent some time (and money) on ourselves. We made a trip to the local outlet mall and filled the back of the Vue with shopping bags.
    We hated to leave Melbourne. Tears were shed by all but we needed to get back on the road.
    Originally Diane and I had planned on visiting Jeri and family then moseying across the state to Tampa Bay with a side trip to Tarpon Springs. We both enjoy Tarpon Springs and all the Greek folks that live and work there. We really like the restaurants and bakeries. We usually come home with a lot of pastries and cookies. This trip to Hela’s, our favorite place of all, would have to wait for another time. We lost a week on the road because of the coach breakdown so we decided to substitute a couple of days in Savannah instead.
    We arrived at the somewhat crowded (snowbirds still on the move) Richmond Hill KOA about five in the afternoon on Friday. Diane fixed some frozen PF Chang’s for dinner. We watched some TV and at nine called it a day. Both of us read in bed until we could not keep our eyes open any longer.
    The next morning, after a breakfast of microwaved Jimmy Dean sausage and egg biscuits, we jumped in the car and headed to the historic district of Savannah.
    We pulled into the parking lot of what I think is the Railroad Museum and saw a bunch of trolley busses parked there. Diane had already informed me that we would be taking a trolley tour.
    Okay, no argument here.
    We bought tickets for the Old Town Trolley tours and got in the boarding line for our seats. Once on board, we sat there for a while and our tour guide provided us with info about the tour. We were on a hop on, hop off, tour. There were a lot of stops and we could get off and on whenever we wanted to. There might be a short wait for the trolley to come by and of course we could end up with a different driver, but that is okay.
    We finally took off and started seeing the city with all its squares. We heard about the history of the district and about the movies made there, including one of my favorites, Forest Gump. I am crazy about that movie and I do a pretty good Forest impression. We found out that the park bus bench that Forest sat on is in a city museum now, which we did not visit, but we did visit Chippiwa square under the church spire where the movie was filmed. That reminds me. I found a white feather stuck in the door of our coach a couple of days earlier. How is that for a coincidence?
    We really enjoyed the tour. At lunch time we visited the Six Pence Pub. I picked that place because I wanted to sample their pub food. I suppose that the DoG Street Pub was on my mind. The Six Pence Pub was a location for the movie Something to Talk About starring Julia Roberts. We were invited to share an outside table with a couple from New York City.
    We ordered lunch. Diane had a thick corned beef sandwich and a glass of wine. I had Beef and Guinness stew served in a bread bowl with potato salad. I also had a tall glass of Strongbow Cider. Not bad.
    The conversation with our dining companions was fun. We talked about where we all were from, where we were going. They found it interesting that we were traveling in a motorcoach.
    We all admitted that we found Savannah fascinating. I told them one of my nephews was attending the Savannah Creative Arts Institute which had a large presence in the historic district.
    We talked about Forest Gump (how could we not?) and the significance of the film. I switched on my Forest Gump accent and impressed them as well as our server and she has heard a lot of people try to talk like him. She said I was channeling Forest Gump.
    We finished lunch, said goodbye and happy travels. Diane and I hopped back on a trolley and continued our tour.
    We visited a lot of places and were so smitten that we decided to come back the next day and just walk around on our own.
    I shot many pictures with my old but still good Alpha 100 dslr and then the unthinkable happened. I dropped my camera on the trolley deck. I have never dropped one like that before. It was on my lap without the strap around my neck. I stood up and it slid off and landed hard. That was it. It would not record any more images.
    I was heartbroken but we continued on with our tour for another hour and then we returned to the car and headed home.
    Back in the coach I tried to reboot my camera. No luck. Sony Tech support was helpful, but my camera was DOA.
    I had fallen in love with this wonderful city with its moss covered live oaks and its very friendly people and wonderful architecture. I was not going to miss this picture taking opportunity.
    I logged onto the KOA very slow wireless and did a bit of online research. I found a new camera at the Savannah Best Buy and then made a quick drive to purchase it before the store closed.
    I had no idea that I would be buying a brand new model Sony that had limited availability. The camera was not even officially available from Sony’s web store.
    I successfully bought the camera (the sales person had to get it out of the warehouse) drove home and spent the next few hours learning how to use it.
    Morning found us back in town, but not where we wanted to be. Somehow our old Garmin took us to the wrong end of Henry Street and we got stuck on small one way streets. Thank goodness we were not in the coach. Actually the houses we were driving by were quite beautiful
    After about an hour we finally made it to the place we wanted to be and parked the car in a garage. From there we just started walking towards the river.
    What a wonderful place Savannah is. I really had no idea. I had visited River Street over twenty years earlier but I did not remember it being so charming. The place was packed with people visiting shops, and eating in one of the many great restaurants. We roamed around, I took pictures and shot a couple of movies (my new camera also shoots video) and then we decided to look for a place to have lunch.
    We found a small take out place almost at the end of River Street called the Olympic Café. I walked in and heard the people in the kitchen and behind the counter speaking Greek. I looked at the food being served and knew we had come to the right place.
    "Kalispera" I said.
    The cooks all looked at me and answered
    "Kalispera!"
    "How may we serve you!"
    I ordered Greek Fried Calamari and Tiropitas, enough for two. I also ordered a bottle of good Greek Beer. There were tables inside, but Teddy Bear was with us so I carried our plates to a small table just outside the door.
    Man, it was all good. Diane stepped inside and I could hear her chatting with the owners, using a few words of Greek.
    She came out with two fat pieces of Baklava. We devoured them.
    She said it was the best she had ever eaten. I went in and bought four more pieces. So much for missing Tarpon Springs.
    We spent a few more hours on River Street and then made our way back to the car.
    We drove home. We were all tired out but we had a wonderful day. It was one of the best we have ever had on the road. We knew we would be coming back to this place one day soon.
    We had a small dinner, watched a bit more TV, and took a short stroll around the campground. We hit the sack early.
    The next morning we took off for the Smithfield, North Carolina KOA. We would spend one night there and after free waffles the next morning we would be four hours from home.
    I love Gavin.
    I am smitten by Savannah.
    It will be awhile before I see my grandson again and who knows when Diane and I can visit Savannah once more.
    In the meantime the DoG Street Pub is not far away.
    Derrick
    "Gramps"
    Posted from Deer Creek Motorcoach Resort.
  9. -Gramps-

    FIRE and RAIN

    By -Gramps-,

    Fire and Rain.
    That is the headline of our local paper this morning. I thought of it as the title of my blog entry days ago, but I wasn’t fast enough to use it first.
    The headline sure fits our present situation. The Dismal Swamp has been on fire for weeks. The fire has thrown a big cloud of smelly, acrid, blue smoke that moves around which makes being outside an unpleasant experience. The only hope to ending the fire was a time of heavy continuous rain. Well, we are getting that now, as I write this.
    It has been some week for my family. It reads like the plot of some bad short story...”The Parker Family Saga” written with 2000 words or less.
    Here is the synopsis:
    Saturday….Mom of wife dies from Stroke.
    Tuesday….Daughter has really big baby.
    Wednesday…Family (minus daughter) attends funeral of Mom of Wife
    Thursday….Father of family goes back to work and hopes to finish 2 month long project.
    And has to make hurricane preparations at same time
    Friday….Father visits customers to help batten down their phone systems and still works to open a large medical practice. Comes home and does as much as he can to get ready for a hurricane.
    Saturday….Father sits in from of computer and writes blog, hoping to post soon in case power goes out.
    Sunday...gives thanks to God that family made it through one crazy week.
    Also gives thanks that the Fire is out and the Rain is gone
    Makes for quite the story don't you agree?
    Derrick
  10. -Gramps-
    I went into the waiting room and had a good cry. My wife's sister held me tight and she said, "It's all right. We don't understand, but we love ya and we'll see you through it and it will all be all right. Clay, you're a good person. We don't always agree, but you're a good person."
    She had come on my side enough to minister to me. The sisters went back home with the two girls and left me with the boys. The doctor said, "Make your arrangements to care for your family for several weeks, several months, maybe forever because this is a very serious case."
    I believe that it really would have been easier to take my wife to her grave than to leave her at that hospital. If that had been the case, I would have had no choice; it would have been a decision that was finally made. But the unknown and the wonderings and the whys of reality were very difficult.
    I remember thinking this as I sat by myself for a few minutes afterward. The house was quiet and the boys and I got together and had a talk. I remember Derrick, age 15, and Rodney, age 13, saying, "Don't worry, Dad, we'll make it. Everything will be all right."
    I called the pastor of the church because I knew it would spread throughout the neighborhood very rapidly. I told him what had happened and he said, "I was afraid it would come to this" He made some effort to tell me how he had warned me. I just made the conversation as short as I could, tried not to be rude, and got off the phone.
    Catherine's sisters agreed to keep Kam, and Penni, as long as necessary. I am sure that when they finally arrived in Denton, North Carolina it was a chance for the whole family to come by and examine Penni's new foot. They knew about the healing, so I have no doubt that they questioned everything. Whenever the Lord has done something, it will stand up to questioning. If the Lord has moved in my life and I have been healed or delivered or set free of something, I can bear the brunt of the questions because when His glory is manifested, it will stand the test.
    The boys and I tried to start putting things together a little bit in order that we could just live. They saw the predicament that I was in and they were very good. I would go over each night to visit Catherine and they would stay home and do dishes and fold laundry. I would come home from work and we would all pitch in and start cleaning and try to keep things as near up to par as we could. I just felt like this was necessary. The Lord was good even in times like this, because I didn't have the physical strength to face people at work or anywhere.
    I was a metalsmith and, as I recall, an expert welder. As it happened, I was the only welder around and there was a big project at work that required my skills. For the first several days, they put me back in a welding booth to do some work. It was an opportunity for me to be by myself and hide my face behind the welding helmet and cry inside. God just allowed that as a hideaway for me for a while.
    As the word passed through the church, a dish garden came to my house on behalf of Catherine's illness and was left on our steps. The doorbell rang and no one was there when I answered it, just the dish garden. I supposed it came from the ladies of the church. We kept it around for quite a while, or pieces of it, as a reminder to pray for them.
    We had a few friends that kept calling. Of course, Bobby and Peggy came over each day to check on me and she pitched in and helped prepare food and so forth. But I was numb, I couldn't pray, I couldn't read my Bible. There was just a numbness inside. There's no other way to explain it. I just kept going step by step. I tried not to ask "why?", I tried not to ask "œwhen?", I just tried to keep the things that I had to do done and somehow or another I would sleep. It was almost like I would turn everything off and I'd finally go to bed and sleep.
    The only thing I could do was watch the 700 Club. They called me and said brother Pat wanted to see me. He pulled me into an office and we sat and talked for about forty minutes and cried together and prayed together. He gave me a ray of confidence, of hope, and said, "God will not allow these things to end up in this situation" He's a Deliverer."
    Though I was still numb inside, I kept hearing this from a man who I respected. "God is a Deliverer and He will not allow things to remain in this state." Pat was a very precious friend.
    On the 700 Club each night, if I had not called in to give a report, Pat would ask, "By the way, have any of you counselors heard from the brother whose wife is in the psychiatric hospital?" If there was no report he'd say, Brother, if you're listening, give us a call. We want to know how she's doing." So I would call and he would read it back over the air. This was encouraging. He said, "I want you people to fast and pray for this sister."
    I remember one night Pat came on strong against pastors who were mistreating their people who were filled with the Holy Spirit and believed in the Full Gospel. He poured it out heavy-real heavy. By realizing that there were some people on my side, it didn't change me within, but it gave me a ray of hope. I continued to just hold on.
    I would go over to the hospital to visit Catherine and, of course, they wouldn't let me in to see her. The first few trips I could hardly find anyone who knew she was there. I would go over and tell them I was there to see Catherine Parker and they would say, "Who?" I'd say "Susan Catherine Parker." So the lady would go back and say, "Yeah, she's here." And I'd say, "Well, may I see her?" And she'd say, "No, you can't see her. She still in solitary."
    "What's the report?" I would ask.
    "Well, no change," would be her response.
    I finally had a session with the caseworker that, I suppose, was the psychologist. He took down a history of the troubles that we'd had in our marriage, and the troubles Catherine had had as she was being raised as a child, and what might have brought this on. He asked me an awful lot of questions. I didn't get a chance to ask him any.
    Finally I had a talk with the doctor who happened to be a very devout Methodist Christian. He had some understanding and I felt freer in his presence. He said to me,
    "Except for what God can do, make your plans for your wife never to recover because it's one of the most serious cases I have ever seen that has come on without a history. Many times there will be a history and you will see it come and go, but there's no history of this in her family, no history of it in her life."
    I said, "How long?" He would give me no estimate of how long she would be confined.
    She was not in a coma, but she was totally unaware of reality; all of her talking was disconnected from reality. They had asked me for pictures of the family, so I took pictures of our kids. They did what passed for a brain scan in those days and they showed her those pictures among other pictures that they had. There was no reaction, no change, when she saw a picture of her own children. I found out later that she saw no difference between pictures of her own children and those of a stranger.
    One night that I was there, a little nurse who heard me ask about Catherine asked, "Are you Mr. Parker? Come with me."
    She called me back to her desk and she started telling me, "There is something different about your wife. I'm not supposed to tell you this, but I just have a feeling that she's going to be all right."
    Whenever I would come there for a visit, she would always meet me, call me back, and give me a little briefing. All of this took place over a few nights, but it seemed like months.
    One night sometime during the first week, I came back home from the hospital, laid across the bed, and cried out, "Lord, why?" I cried--not with tears, but with a total spiritual effort and said, "Lord-help me! He heard my cry and spoke to me and gave me a clue as to when she would come out of this "coma" or whatever it was that she was in. And then He clearly told me when she would come out of the hospital. It was so clear that I got up, turned the light on, and marked it on my calendar. As I recall, I marked a Tuesday.
    The next time I went over, they said, "Your wife came to today; she called for some help and said she wanted to know where she was."
    Catherine realized what was taking place around her. She related to me later that when she came to, it was like she had been asleep and woke up. Although she had been in the same little room now for five or six days, she said she did not recognize her surroundings. She thought she had been kidnapped and that I didn't know where she was.
    The nurse said, "She came to, she knows where she is, she's answering questions," I said, "May I see her?" The doctor told me I could see her tomorrow.
    Well tomorrow was her birthday, that's what the Lord had told me: that I would see her on her birthday. I asked if I could bring the boys.
    On December 10, 1968, we went by the supermarket and got her a little cake and some cards. We knew we couldn't take her any gifts but we could do that. They gave us a room where we met and she just seemed to be so much herself. I thought, "Well, praise God, it's all over."
    We talked and had a real good visit.
    The next day I went back to see her knowing everything was going to be all right, but she did not remember our visit the day before. It went on this way for quite a while. I could see her, but she wouldn't remember my being there the day before. All she would know was just me at the time I was there.
    In the middle of all of this, there was a flu epidemic taking place. First Rodney then Derrick and then I came down with the flu. We had to call for some help, so my sisters came up and helped us a bit, and they went over to see Catherine. I look back now and see that the Lord was exposing so many people to what was taking place.
    After the Lord told me when Catherine was going to get out of the hospital, it brought hope. When I would go back day after day and see that she didn't remember, it brought discouragement again. I don't remember if I said, "Lord, but You promiseed!" There didn't seem to be eneough improvement.
    It was getting close to Christmas. Holiday cheer and our present situation seemed mutually exclusive. I couldn't think about Christmas trees, presents or anything like that. I was having enough trouble just getting Rod and myself to school on time.
    One morning I just felt terrible. I couldn't think straight and I was an hour late to school. I think I should have stayed home because at the end of the day I was sick as a dog. I kept the flu for two weeks and missed a lot of school days. My brother came down with it also and poor Dad had his hands full. I remember one night after work around bedtime, he lost his temper over something simple and used words I had never heard him use before or since. It shocked both Rod and me. Dad apologized and we said our good nights. I could have sworn I heard him crying in his bedroom.
    As the days went by, and Christmas was just a couple of days away, our Aunt Hazel, who had been nursing us through our sick days, left before she came down with it herself. We boys managed to put up a tree, hang a few decorations on it, including the old antique glass balls. Dad and I made a wooden model of the Apollo Eight Command Module and I hung it from a string that was tied to the top of the tree across the high peaked ceiling of our living room to the top of a closet where I had placed a globe of the moon. Each day as the mission got closer to the moon I moved the model to mark the occasion.
    Christmas Eve came and my Mom was allowed a visit home. I am not sure she knew where she was, but we tried to make the best of it. I like to think it was a new beginning, for the Parker Family. I held on to that hope while I listened to Astronauts Landers, Lovell and Frank Borman read from the book of Genesis.
    "In the Beginning, God created the heaven and the earth...."
    The Lord and I are talked and I said, "Lord, send her home in her right mind and I will do whatever I have to do to make sure this never happens again."
    I guess I had been somewhat of a chauvinist as a husband and had stood my ground "this is your job" and "that is mine" and so forth. I don't think I was too hard-nosed about it but....
    I needed to receive mercy. In order to receive mercy, I had to give it. I had to learn mercy, learn compassion, and learn sympathy and patience and many other things.
    The doctor had talked to me about what they were doing for her and then told me about the treatment they do for mental patients. He said, "We don't know how to treat mental patients yet, we're just doing some ball-park guessing as to what we can do. We're going to try some shock treatments electrical shock and insulin shock."
    One day I went over there to visit and she came out with all of her get-well cards in her hand and she told me some things that had happened to her while she had been in the hospital a few days before. I saw that she had moved into a new state, that she was starting to stack up one day on top of the other. When that happened, they allowed her to come home.
    I brought her home for a few hours one Sunday and when I did, it was like she had never been there before, because on the way over she kept saying, "What's the name of our street? What does our house look like?" and asking questions. As as soon as she saw our house, it snapped back into her memory again.
    On one of the visits she said, "Let's get in the car and drive around to all of our friends' homes so I can see their houses and that way I can remember what they look like." We had a picture album of our church, so we sat down and she would read and look and say, "Oh, yeah, I remember,I know them!"
    Once when I went over to visit her in the hospital, she and her roommate (who was about in the same state) were laughing and they said, "You know we can't even remember our children's names?" So I took pictures her pictures of the kids, and went over each one's name, and how old they were.
    I took pictures of her sisters and showed them to her and told her who they were and which getwell cards were from whick sister. The shock treatments had totally destroyed all memory. It had to be fed back in. It's like a computer where someone has pushed the delete button and then you've got to put all the software back in. I believed we could do it together.
    The doctor was encouraged and said to me one day, "She is responding 100% more than we expected to these treatments, so you're going to be able to take her home."
    He gave me a date. I don't recall if he said "a week from Saturday" or "next Saturday." I felt like she was ready to come home. Of course, I was anxious and I could see that she needed me and I needed her and the boys needed her. I felt like if we could just get back together again, that everything would be all right.
    The day came when I was to go pick her up. I made some quick preparation and went over there to find that no one knew that she was supposed to be discharged from the hospital. The doctor had signed no papers, left no word, and he was out of town until late the following Monday night. This was the first time they had really let me down on things they had promised. I was so despondent. They wouldn't even let me see her that night. I came back home and had a tough weekend.
    Early Tuesday morning I called and said, "Dr. Pyle, you promised me I could bring my wife home this past Saturday and I went over and..."
    "No, no, I didn't. It was Saturday..."
    He gave me a date that was for the next Saturday.
    "No, you told me last Saturday." I was getting a bit frustrated.
    "No, it's next Saturday. Let me pull her chart."
    He went and got her chart and said, "you're right...I did tell you last Saturday. I am so sorry. Why don't you come get her today?"
    I was at work and as soon as he said that, I hung up the phone, went and told my boss, got off and headed home. I started straightening up the house a little bit and looked and realized that I hadn't turned my calendar. When I did, I noticed it was Tuesday and there was a big red circle around today's date! So I knew that God was the Deliverer and He was working it out.
    I got everything ready and went over after her. The traffic was heavy and I stopped at a stoplight. I looked over at the Bible lying on the seat and read Mark 19:2 where it says "Now go and tell your friends what great and mighty things the Lord hath done for you."
    God is a Deliverer. When I look back and see all the things that we went through and then remember the moment when I looked at the calendar and saw the mark around the day, I knew Who was in charge and that He had made available to us the strength to go through the trials. And I know when He said, "Go and tell your friends what great and mighty things the Lord hath done for you." that he was talking to me.
    It was good to have Mom home but it wouldn't be easy. I spent many hours trying to figure it all out. I take that back. I have spent years trying to figure it all out. I believe that the loss of two parents, a bunch of stressful life changing moves and then this wonderful, inexplicable miracle and its aftermath was just to much for the mortal mind. But all is well that ends well isn't it?
    That's it. Part Four done. Why, why have I felt the need to write about these things? I don't know. Maybe I have thought about my own mortality a bit more after losing my close friend a year ago this week. And when one thinks about one's mortality, then memories come flooding back. Or like my Dad it is just Mark 19:2 talking to me.
    Hopefully there will be nothing but rving related stuff posted here from now on. But don't bet on it.
  11. -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
    .
  12. -Gramps-
    It has certainly been awhile since I posted anything having to do with motor coaching. I guess I could just ignore that fact and just post like I don’t have a care in the world and no time has gone by at all since my last new entry. I won’t do that, however. I will tell you that Diane and I have managed to make it to some chapter campouts where we had some weekend fun with our fellow FMCA and Good Sam members, while still longing for a good long trip on the road.
    Three weeks or so ago we finally got our wish, sort of. We also got the opportunity to practice one of my rules for owning a MotorCoach.
    Rule number 2, to be exact: Keep your temper on a very short leash. Or, when owning a motor coach, patience is not only a virtue but a necessity.
    I had some time between jobs, so Diane and I took advantage of that fact and quickly packed up the coach for a trip to Florida to see our daughter and her family, which includes a brand-new grandson. For nine months we had been hoping and semi planning to take this trip, without knowing exactly what day we could leave, so when a chance came our way to take off, that is what we did.
    We left on April Fool’s Day. If I were a superstitious person, I might have chosen a different day to roll down the road.
    Our first stop was to be Greensboro, North Carolina. We needed to stop at Terry Labonte RV to repair a couple of things that had gone wrong with the coach. Maybe a better way to phrase it would be that we needed to fix things that were going wrong with the coach. We kept having this nerve-wracking alarm go off on a regular basis. It was a combination of an ABS alarm, a hydraulic brake alarm and an auto park failure. Alone, none of these alarms was much fun; together I figured that they were a recipe for big trouble. I was correct about that.
    Usually after this alarm would rear its ugly head -- which manifested itself as a bunch of flashing lights on the instrument console, sometimes accompanied by a very irritating unending beep -- I would pull over at the earliest safe spot and restart the engine. This would clear all the nasty little messages and lights and we would continue on our merry way.
    We were less than a mile from the intersection of U.S. 58 and I-85 South, when the alarm went off with a vengeance. I pulled off the road onto an access road to a closed Wal-Mart parking lot. We found ourselves between a bank and an Arby’s when I stopped, put the rig into "Park," shut off the engine, turned it back on with the hope of having all the noises and flashing lights gone, if not forgotten.
    Hoping does not always work. I restarted the engine, but the alarms were still very much there and the coach would not come out of "Park."
    We were stuck, broken down on the road.
    “Diane, we are not going anywhere today,” I told her.
    She and our dog, Teddy Bear, just looked at me with “What do we do now?” expressions on both their faces.
    I had no real idea what to do. It was Sunday, for Pete’s sake. There would be no one at Workhorse to answer the phone. We currently were not using a road side service, and even if we were, it was still Sunday.
    I called a friend, my daughter Jeri, and my parents. The first call was to Mike Pelchat, former Workhorse Ambassador and a person who knows quite a bit about the UFO chassis. We discussed a few possibilities about what was wrong and what to do about it. We both agreed there was not much we could do today.
    We sat and stared at each other for a while. I did turn on the inverter so we could watch a bit of TV to help pass the time. When dinner time arrived I walked over the Arby’s and purchased a Rueben for myself and a Turkey sandwich for Diane.
    At nine I extended curbside bedroom slideout and we hit the hay. We knew we needed to start making phone calls very early the next morning to tow companies, service centers and manufacturers, but not necessarily in that order.
    At nine thirty there was a knock at the door.
    “Who can that be?” asked Diane.
    I knew who it was. I opened the door to see two policemen standing on Arby’s grass.
    “Are you planning on sleeping here tonight?” one of the officers asked me.
    “Well, yes we are.” I responded. “But not by choice, we are broke down.”
    “Oh, sorry to hear that” said one of the officers. “You are planning to do something about not being here long?”
    I told them that I would be contacting a tow company in the morning and hopefully we would not be there long at all. I also told them it could have been worse….we could have been stuck at the stop light on 58. I hated to think how much fun that would have been, my coach blocking lots of trucks and cars on their way to who knows where.
    The officers told us that they were about to come off shift and would let the next one know our situation and they would keep an eye on us to make sure we were safe. I told them I appreciated that very much.
    I closed the door, locked both locks and went back to bed.
    I actually slept thru the night.
    The next morning we called Terry Labonte RV, and once transferred to RV and truck service, Pal Dojcsak the Service Manger answered the phone. I explained our situation, and Pal said the best tow company to pick up our rig and bring it to Greensboro and their shop would be Ray Harris towing. I called them and agreed to pay for a large bill.
    Now, I know it might have been best to have road side assistance, but that is something I did not have at the time. During a previous road side problem with our first coach, I found the roadside assistance that we had at the time (AAA with RV coverage) to not be much use towing a 36 foot motor home. First the call back took hours and when I finally did get a call; I was informed that there was no one available to tow the rig for days, if at all. Lucky for us we were able to continue on our way without a tow….but that is another story.
    So I never renewed, and did not subscribe to any other service. Plus I had heard of so many horror stories about towing pushers, (especially a UFO) that I figured if anything did happen; I, as the tow-ee would be better off choosing the tow-er myself instead of being locked into some network outfit.
    In theory and in practice I may have been correct.
    Andy, from Ray Harris Towing arrived on site at 10:45 about two and a half hours after I called. Once there he went to work. He attached the truck to the coach; I jacked up the back wheels so he could disconnect the drive shaft.
    Then things got a bit tricky. He asked me to take the coach out of park, and I told him that could not be done. The auto park would have to be manually disconnected and the instructions in the manual were not quite right.
    I made a second call to Mike Pelchat.
    Mike had the proper instructions for disconnecting the auto park on an R-26 coach. He talked to Andy and about thirty minutes later we were following our big silver box down the road.
    We arrived at Terry Labonte RV around one pm when we were hoping to be there early in the morning. Needless to say we lost our appointment time and had to go to the end of the waiting line.
    While we were waiting, Andy had to go pick up another coach. Some tow company had towed it to the wrong site (they took it to Terry Labonte's paint shop, which was some miles away). Andy went after it only to discover that the tow company driver neglected to disconnect the coach drive shaft. Hopefully the owners, who had a busted radiator, would not also have a busted transmission. Andy jumped a curb with the rear end of our coach, which scared me, but no damage was done. Other than that I think he did a great job of getting the big rig where it needed to go.
    We hung around the coach for the rest of the day. We had lunch, Diane read her Kindle and I walked over to the RV sales lot to just visit and try not to think about when we might be back on the road to Florida.
    Around four thirty we packed up the car and headed for the La Quinta just up the street. It was the only pet friendly place around, except for our coach, and we could not spend the night in there because it would be locked up behind a security fence.
    There isn’t much exciting to say about how we spent our time in Greensboro. It took four days to get the coach repaired. Late Tuesday afternoon, Bruce Sweeney and Jim Smoot discovered, with help from Eric McCann (who is also a friend of mine) at Workhorse that the ABS pump was, in layman’s terms blown, and would need to be replaced. That meant waiting for parts which in turn meant Thursday morning before the main repair could be made.
    So now I had the opportunity, once again, to practice my own rule number 2 for owning a Motorcoach. That rule almost needed to be tattooed on the palm of my hand, so I could see it a lot over the next few days.
    We had a not always pleasant night at La Quinta, however having a hot shower felt really good. We had carry out from Chick-Fill-A, which consisted of salad, sandwich and chicken noodle soup.
    We ended the evening with some TV and I spent the rest of night having nightmares about coaches being towed over curbs and rolling into ditches.
    The next morning we had the continental breakfast in shifts. Diane went first. I went next and brought some hard boiled eggs, yogurt, along with a biscuit and some pretty stiff gravy back to our room. .
    After eating we headed back to the service center just to check on the days agenda. There was not much to tell us as the coach had three others in front of it. We would not really know anything until very late in the day.
    We decided to kill some time at Camping World. I wanted Diane to take a look at the Rand McNally RV GPS and who knows; maybe we would find some bargains there as well.
    We went, we looked, and we did not buy the GPS because we had a gift card that we left behind in the coach. We visited the local Farmer's Market but nothing there grabbed our attention for long.
    We jumped back in the car and drove to Lexington, North Carolina where we planned to do two things: one. buy some locally made Conrad and Hinkle Pimento Cheese. It is the best Pimento cheese on the face of the earth. I love the stuff. We also planned on meeting my Mom and Dad for lunch and just spend some time together.
    We did just that. Diane, Teddy and I walked around downtown Lexington for awhile before Mom and Dad arrived. Then we had subs from the local Italian restaurant which we ate outside. I wanted a beer to go with them, but that was not possible because we were in a dry county. Oh well.
    After lunch we bought two quarts of Conrad and Hinkle, some ginger ale, I threw the cheese into a freezer bag along with some ice and we then went shopping. We visited a candy store located in a hundred year old building with creaky wooden floors. The hand made fudge was out of this world and Dad bought some for Diane.
    We said goodbye to Mom and Dad and drove back to Greensboro.
    We came back in the afternoon and our coach, at the last minute before closing, was moved out from the fenced area to a spot with power. We now had our home back to a useable state if not a drivable one. We were rescued from another night in a hotel. For awhile it looked like we were going to have to visit the La Quinta again. The tech was having problems with the auto park and connecting the system to read the codes. Having been told that, it sure was a relief to see the coach move to its parking spot.
    Bruce told us that he had been getting a lot of help from Eric at Workhorse.
    Wednesday the fourth of April was a very hot day. We had the coach all to ourselves that day and going somewhere did not appeal to us. Jeri, our daughter, checked into the hospital very early that morning. We had hoped to be there but obviously we were not. We would have to sit and wait for the arrival of our new grandson from the comfort of our coach while it sat in a parking lot.
    I decided to pass the time by cleaning our Vue. It really needed it. I washed it with Armor All extreme shine detailing stuff, vacuumed the carpets and shampooed them and everything else on the inside. During this time I decided that I needed some shade so I rolled out the electric awning and about half way out it made a loud banging noise and then fell open the rest of the way.
    That did not sound right, so I tried to retract it and it would not move.
    It was pretty obvious that the awning was broken. Oh well. I figured that it was small potatoes compared to a massive brake failure and it picked a good time to fail. We were parked in front of a repair facility, not going down the road. I walked into the office and informed Pal we had another problem. Pal sent Scott Frunzen, the same person who prepped the coach four years earlier, to come over and have a look. Scott discovered that the motor shaft was stripped. Another part would have to be ordered. Do want you have to do, was my response.
    I went back to cleaning my car.
    Around four, Pal stretched a garden hose a very long way over to our coach so that we could fill our fresh water tank. This took some time and while Pal and I were standing outside just shooting the breeze, Diane came out with some really good news.
    Gavin Thomas Wheeler came into the world just after four. Both mother and newborn boy were doing just fine. She then showed me a blurry picture on her not so smart phone.
    Pal, who has a set of very young twins at home, said congratulations.
    Not a bad ending to the day I guess. Before the day ended for the techs Scott had to roll a scaffold over to our coach so that he could roll up our awning and tie it off. A big storm was on its way.
    It rained like crazy that night with lots of thunder and lightning which Teddy hates as much as he does motorcycles.
    The highlight of our next day was a trip to Wal-Mart for some things, food and new cups along with a baby gift for our new grandson, whom we still hoped to see soon, and back to Camping World.
    We took advantage of Good Sam's roadside assistance being offered on sale on site. The staff member who helped us was well very helpful. We also purchased the Rand McNally RV 5510 gps.
    I was not happy with our old Garmin. It got us lost the first trip to Camping World. It kept turning us in circles because it did not recognize most of the streets we were on. I was ready to throw the thing out the sunroof along with my smart phone and Teddy Bear who kept barking at passing motorcycles. Diane was ready to throw me out the roof from fussing about the Garmin and the dog.
    On the way home Diane played with the new GPS (she loves it by the way) and we bought some Dunkin Doughnut blueberry Munchkin holes for the techs. We figured they would be more fun to hand out than cigars.
    Our coach was not in its spot when we arrived. We sat in the car and played with the GPS.
    We had some good news waiting for us, the ABS break pump had been replaced and the awing was now repaired as well. The next step was to bleed the brakes, which was a long, complicated and critical process. Once that was done the coach would be parked again and hopefully, the next morning we could be on our way.
    The brakes were bled successfully, the coach was taken on a test drive by Pal around the lot, and then they told me to take it for a longer one.
    I climbed into the coach. The generator was running so that Bruce’s laptop could stay connected and running which would allow it to capture any errors that the Engine Computer Module was generating.
    I took it for a spin and worked the brakes pretty hard. They felt great, like new.
    Everyone was happy with the result.
    The next day, Friday, the guys checked the coach air conditioning, which was not cooling. They discovered that it was low on coolant but there were no leaks and all was good to go once the system was recharged.
    We saw the coach come out again. We paid the bill, the part for the brakes was covered by Workhorse (thank you Eric!) we gladly paid for all the hard work the guys did, we had lunch and then at noon we hit the road. Almost.
    After eating lunch, I hooked up our tow only to discover that none of the lights would work. It took me awhile to realize that I had put the coach end of the electrical connection in the socket upside down. Stupid of me I know. Once that was fixed we were on our way.
    The guys at Terry Lobonte RV really came through for us... Eric McCann at Workhorse, Mike Pelchat, Andy from Harris Towing, they all played a huge part in getting us back on the road in time to see our new grandson.
    I can’t thank them enough.
    Well, my next post will be about the trip from Greensboro to Florida and back. It will be some fun reading with pictures. Hopefully I can keep the days straight. Stay tuned to this channel.
    Gramps.
  13. -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
  14. -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
  15. -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
  16. -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
  17. -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
  18. -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
  19. -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
  20. -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
  21. -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
  22. -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
  23. -Gramps-

    It's a Wonderful Life!

    By -Gramps-,

    Diane and I just finished watching “It’s a Wonderful Life.” It is certainly one of our Christmas traditions each year, as it is with a lot of people, I am sure.
    We take it a bit further in our house than most. There are IAWL ornaments on the tree, some glass balls, some ceramic with scenes and lines from the movie. Some are small houses and buildings from the movie with a hole in the bottom to allow for a light.
    In my office I have the Bedford Falls Village on display. There are twenty one buildings set up on three shelves. Along with the buildings are the other things you would find in a Christmas village, including cars, figures, street lights, trees and a train. I pay careful attention to which buildings, such as Gower’s Drug Store, Anderson’s Department Store (the Bailey Brothers Building and Loan is located upstairs) the Bedford Falls Bank, City Hall belong next to each other as seen in the movie itself. It is a rather elaborate display.
    I have read the original script for the movie. I have a number of books that relate behind the scenes stories and anecdotes about the making of the movie. One of those books is a coffee table book and one is on my e-reader. I have an autographed picture of the closing scene of the movie. It is signed by Karolyn Grimes, who played George and Mary’s daughter ZuZu.
    I have watched the movie some two hundred times. I have watched a number of colorized versions on You Tube. I know each and every line by heart. I can watch the whole film in my head. It still chokes me up. I still can’t stand the scene where George loses it with his family after Uncle Billy loses 100,546.67 dollars (8000 dollars in 1945.) Let us give ole Billy a little lee way and say it was almost the year 1946. He still lost the equivalent of 92, 812.31 in today’s dollars. No wonder poor George freaked out and kicked over the bridges and buildings he had built. Those scale models represented all his hopes and dreams. He knew that the life he wanted was never going to happen.
    At that moment, George frightened his family and he became a walking dead man or so he thought. He believed he was worth more dead than alive.
    I understand why and how he came to feel that way.
    One Christmas some years back Diane and I threw a fancy “It’s a Wonderful Life” party for some close friends from our church that included a formal dinner. I sent out invitations with pictures from the movie. We came up with a printed menu with dishes like “Uncle Billy’s famous New England Clam Chowder” and “Mary Bailey’s Grilled Chicken with Mango Salsa” served with “Mom Bailey’s Sugar Snap Peas steamed in Balsamic Vinegar with Walnuts”. There was New York Seltzer and Cheese Cake for dessert. The table was decorated with little red plastic bells and fresh red rose petals. Some of our friends had never seen the movie (a shock to me) and they did not realize the meaning of the bells or the petals. They soon found out, but first I wanted them to know why the movie means so much to me.
    I told them the movie had saved my life.
    It happened twenty years ago now. I was finishing up my second year of being chronically unemployed. I had gotten fired from a job I loved ten years earlier, (that is a possible story for another day…..I will tell you this; I didn't deserve to loose that job and the ambitions of a man who wanted to be president of the United States had a lot do with it ending.) I had started a business that failed after forty two months. That failure was directly connected with the murder of my best friend who worked with me. I went to work for the people who bought my failed business but that didn’t work out either. I went to work for AT&T and lost that job a year later. I got a job that I thought would last with the local PBS station that I had worked for once before years earlier, but they had to lay me off due to state funding cutbacks. That happened in November of 1990. It was the last straw so to speak.
    So in March of 1991 at the end of a very bleak winter and with what looked like a very bleaker future, I found myself thinking the whole previous ten years had been a waste. I was a failure. No one would hire me because they didn’t think a man who had owned his own business would want to work for someone else. That is true if you have a choice. I didn’t think I had one. I sent out two hundred resumes because I thought I had to work for someone else or else I and my family would starve and I was extremely tired of being told I was over qualified for the positions I applied for.
    I did manage to find some temporary jobs. I installed microwaves for a military sub contractor. I helped install MRIs for a medical company. Diane demonstrated products at the local supermarkets. She was a gray apron lady which required her to hand out coupons and fry sausage samples. We subsidized our empty pantry from our church’s food bank. My kids qualified for reduced price lunches at school, well because we were flat broke. I refused for the longest time to apply for unemployment because I thought it the surest sign that I was out of hope. I finally did apply and received two measly checks before I went back to full time work.
    However something else happened in between. I could not make myself continue to look for a job. I did have a friend in the phone business offer me a straight commission position with a draw. I could not accept that. The economy was not in good shape and neither was the company making me the offer. They were just being nice to an old friend with a shared common interest, that being phone systems.
    I was miserable, lost and really didn’t care to live anymore. I didn't know how far down a dark road those feelings would take me, but it was far enough to worry my wife and kids.
    Diane started a prayer chain with the hope that if enough prayers were made my situation would change. The situation did change, but first I had to have a change of heart.
    One day I was home by myself. It was early in the morning. Diane was at our church where she was a part time secretary to the pastor as well as the church bookkeeper. I finished cleaning up around the house and decided that I wanted to watch a movie. I opened the cabinet where we stored all our tapes and an old cheap copy of It’s a Wonderful Life fell out onto the floor. I thought to myself why not?
    I put it in the VCR, sat on the floor with my back to the couch and proceeded to watch this old chestnut of a film for the umpteenth time on our thirteen inch television.
    Obviously I had a different viewpoint this time.
    Like George Bailey I was angry at my situation. I was depressed and felt that there was no hope. When George started yelling at his family something started to break in me. When he was in the bar praying I started to cry. When Clarence rescued him, I told myself it was only a movie but I hit rewind and watched it again, and I cried again.
    I sat there on the floor and viewed that movie four times. By the end of the forth time it finally sank in. Life was not as bad as I thought it was. I had friends, great kids and a loving wife. I didn’t think a bunch of people would show up at my door with gobs of money but I knew that all was not lost.
    Frank Capra and his cast helped me realize that I did have a wonderful life, and with the right attitude, some help from above, and with a lot of hard work, I could turn things around.
    I started my business a week later.
    I turned things around. It did take a lot of prayer, help from friends and family, a lot of hard work and we did receive a lot of help from above. There have been setbacks since then. Some have put me down, but not out and that is because I know that I have friends, most of whom drive a Motor Coach. Those friends make me remember that I am not a failure and I do have a very wonderful life.
    It is a Wonderful Life!
    And I hope that every one who reads this has a Very Merry Christmas!
    Derrick
    "Gramps"



  24. -Gramps-

    Depreciation

    By -Gramps-,

    This subject pops up every now and then in the Internet forums where I hang about on a regular basis. It may be a post titled "Is your Class A a Money pit?" or "A motor home costs a whole lot more than you think it does!" The people who post these kinds of entries may or may not really have a problem with what a coach or any other large RV may cost. They might just be bored. It's Sunday night and the DW is watching "Desperate Housewives", so there is nothing better for them to do than post some sad story about how broke owning a coach is making them.
    The last time I saw one of these threads, I responded to it. I said that owning a motor coach is like having kids. You make a huge financial investment, with no return, but they make lots of good memories, are good for the soul, and will greatly improve one's life if you let them.
    I believe the RV lifestyle is underappreciated by most people who are not part of it and also by some who are. Becoming a Motor Coacher has been one of the best things that has ever happened to me and my wife. Has owning one depleted my bank account? I suppose it has, but then, maybe not.
    I might have put away the money that I spend each month paying for my coach. I might have put away the money I spend on trips, including gas and food and camping fees, but I doubt it. I would have spent all of my trip and fuel money on airplane tickets, hotel rooms and cruise ships, or something else. The chances are that even if I did save it, a lot of the money could still have disappeared without me spending a dime of it.
    The present economic situation has poked a whole lot of holes in a lot of financial balloons. I just try to take advantage of what our coach can do for us. I may have to spend money on gas, a new water pump to replace a squirting frozen one, new wiper blades to replace frozen ones, a new water filter to replace a cracked and frozen one, but considering what our coach does for us it is worth it.
    I can tell you this that minus the monthly payment, the two weeks and two days I just spent in Florida, which included eight nights at Disney World, didn't cost us much at all. Not when compared to what two weeks would have cost staying in fancy hotels and eating out. I wish I could have stayed there a lot longer. Responsibilities called me home.
    Home is a very subjective word when you own a motor coach. Home is where my coach is. I felt quite at home in Fort Wilderness. As a matter of fact, the guard who checked us in said, "Welcome home, Mr. Parker."
    It was home. We spent New Year's Eve in Saint Augustine and the next day climbed a lighthouse. My daughter was there and my son-in-law and my grandson. My wife was there and so was Teddy Bear. I had my favorite DVDs, my favorite beer, my favorite books, some of them anyway, and the things I like to eat the most. I also had great cable TV.
    At night we listened to music coming from the Disney Parks. We also heard the fireworks and, if we walked a little ways from our site, could see them, just over the tops of the trees. If we wanted to ride the monorail, we did. If we wanted to take a boat ride, we did that, too. We went to one park, and saw Cirque Du Soleil, followed by sushi at Wolfgang Pucks. We pin traded, we took Teddy to the Waggin Tails Dog Park. We basked in the 70-degree sunshine. We even had the pleasure of spending time with our friends Gary and Janis. What could be better than that?
    It was wonderful. It was wonderful until we had to say good-bye. We had to say good-bye to the warmth of our surroundings, our friends and our family. We said good-bye and then made our way back north. We came back to the cold, to work and to our son, daughter and grandsons, whom we missed a lot.
    It won't be long before we take our motorhome back out on the road and enjoy another great trip. We will make new friends and see new places.
    So, I don't worry about "depreciation" I try to appreciate the emotional and spiritual return I get from my poor financial investment. I hope that all my fellow Coachers and RVers do the same.
    Gramps
    1/23/2011
  25. -Gramps-
    2. Keep your temper on a very short leash. Or, when owning a motor coach, patience is not only a virtue but a necessity.
    If you are the type of person who always wants to be in control of your circumstances and are uncomfortable when things are not perfect or not even close to it, you will have trouble adjusting to the motor coaching lifestyle. Things are going to go wrong whether you are an old-timer or a newbie. There are preventive measures you can take, but only God can stop anything and everything bad from happening.
    Let me break it down for you.
    A. All may not go well at time of the motorhome purchase.
    B. All may not go well when driving down the road from point A to point B.
    C. All may not go well when setting up and breaking down camp.
    All may not go well when your coach is at the repair shop because of A. B. or C. or any combination of the three. So this means you have to be patient with all kinds of people and circumstances. You have to be patient with drivers (and that includes yourself), passengers (and that includes your spouse), dealers, repair techs, manufacturers. You get the picture. Just be patient, because it can turn out better than you think.
    An Example of A:
    The day my wife and I bought our first, slightly used coach it was a rainy, cold Valentine's Day in 2005. We had signed the papers a few days earlier and now it was time to do our walkthrough, or PDI, or something like that. We started with the roof, and the tech told us about the satellite dish that came with the coach. I looked hard for it but I didn't see anything that looked like a dish to me. I had no plans to order satellite service for the coach, but if it is supposed to have a dish it should be there! I started to say something, but I didn't want to appear stupid. Plus, the tech was in a great rush due to the rain.
    We were told about the sewer system, the fresh water system, the electrical connections, the generator, the storage, and the hitch. It went on and on. I was cold, wet, hungry and needed to find a bathroom. We went inside the coach and learned about the dash controls, the radio, the video system, the leveling system, the voltage monitors, the battery disconnects, the batteries, the power switches for all the appliances we could not use at the same time because it was 30-amp service.
    Next, he shows us how to crank up the TV antennae and follows that with the manual satellite dish controls. The whole time we are inside, I am thinking about the satellite dish that is standard, that isn't on the roof, and I still need to go to the bathroom.
    I am getting impatient and am just about to complain when he shows us the washer and dryer combo -- the one that we had no idea was in the coach. On the day we signed the papers, we were told we could get a washer-dryer for 900 bucks and we said no thanks, maybe later. I looked at it and at the happy expression on my wife's face and stupidly said "Where did that come from?" The tech told us that it originally came with the coach, but the first owner didn't want it. Right after he traded it they put the combo back in the coach. The salesman didn't know it was there, so it was too late to charge us for it now, so consider it a bonus. At that moment I forgot about the dish that didn't exist ... well, I didn't forget, it just didn't matter anymore.
    An Example of B: (The Same Day!)
    So, with my wife leading in the car, I started up our new-to-us 36-foot Bounder, with no SAT dish, but a stump where it was supposed to be, and eased it along with the included washer-dryer combo out of the dealer parking lot (point A). I had no idea what I was doing. I should tell you that I had never driven the coach, or any coach or even been a passenger in one before. I was scared to death.
    I took it down U.S. 17 and missed my first turn. Great, I have not had it five minutes and now I have to do a U-turn. I managed to turn around in an abandoned gas station lot, made the right turn toward home. About 20 minutes later I am in front of our house and am looking at our tree-lined driveway (point B.) trying to figure out how to get this really long and wide box on wheels to go where I want it to go.
    I make a right turn and realize that that it is pretty tight between the trees. Diane is standing out in the rain and yells at me that I am not going to make it without clocking the tree on the left. I stop, grit my teeth and sit there for a minute or two. Okay, it will not go in the driveway, so what do I do.
    Diane comes into the coach. She knows me very well. She quietly suggests that we can park it in front of the house, off the road and hire someone to take down the tree the right away. That sounded like a good plan to me. So I backed out of the driveway, back up the street and then pulled it off the road right in front of our house and sank into the mud. At least I didn't hit the tree.
    An Example of C: (two months later)
    The tree is now gone. A tree service removed it. The rig is stocked and we are on our first weeklong trip. We are off to the mountains of Virginia, a wonderful place called Otter Creek on the Blue Ridge Parkway.
    It was not a bad trip up to the campground. We drove up U.S. 460 and stopped at a gas station to fill up the rig. This took a bit of planning. The gas tank opening was behind the license plate at the end of the rig. I had to be quite careful about where I filled up. It was very easy to block the flow of traffic in and out of the gas station, not to mention I ended up parked in front of two pumps for a long time.
    I have found out you have to be patient at gas pumps. Most will not allow more than a $100 purchase. With a 100-gallon tank, that means using my credit card three times to get my tank filled. It doesn't bother me now, but when we first became RVers, it ticked me off. But that is not the worst thing. Sometimes you just can't get the gas to go into the tank. The nozzle just shuts off. I found that if you hold it at the three or nine o'clock positions gas will flow, but you cannot leave it unattended and that makes your hand tired.
    After we filled up (and this was the first time, a bit of a shock even at 2 bucks a gallon) we continued on up the road. I drove carefully the whole way and it was a rather uneventful, pleasant but longer than I expected trip to the campground.
    Otter Creek is a national park campground. No connections. No water, no electricity, no sewer. It does have a dump station. Oh, one other thing it does not have: more than one site that a two-slideout 36-foot-long coach will fit into. I pulled into the first one, a pull-through that looked long enough. It was slightly curved but I wiggled the coach into it.
    I got out to check everything and realized I could not open the main slideout because of the trees. I looked at a site in front of the coach but slightly off to the right. The trees were not as tight around that site. It looked like it would work out quite well. I was quite anxious to get parked because I was running out of daylight.
    I got behind the wheel and started the engine. Diane asked me if I wanted her to guide me out of the site. "Why? The other site is just over there, I should be fine." So I took off, drove about 34 feet and made a slight turn to the right. It is too bad that I was in enough of a hurry that I couldn't take Diane's advice. It's also too bad that I didn't see the camper sitting outside his Airstream who was frantically waving at me as I made my turn. I didn't see him, just like I didn't see the tree stump I ran over with foot 35 of my 36-foot coach. The rear end of the coach went up in the air and dropped hard.
    "What was that?" I asked of no one in particular.
    "I think we hit something." Diane said.
    I pulled into the new spot, got out and looked at the coach. Everything seemed okay, except I noticed the gutter spout was missing off the rear of the coach. Not a big deal. I also noticed there was a wood-colored streak down the middle of the last basement door. And then I saw it! A fist-sized hole in the bottom of my end cap. I was sick. I had wrecked my new coach.
    "Diane, look at what I have done!"
    "Its not so bad" she said.
    "Not so bad? Not so bad!" I was starting to lose it.
    The man who was sitting in front of the Airstream walked over.
    "I was trying to warn you that your tail was swinging over that stump," he said.
    The man looked at the coach's boo-boo and said something that, well, I didn't know how to respond to: "You might as well bang up the other seven corners and get it over with!"
    Then he laughed and slapped me on the back and said, "Welcome to the club. It happens to everybody. Don't let it spoil your trip. Good looking coach you have here."
    All I could see was the hole in my end cap. I did find the gutter spout, so it wasn't a total loss.
    Just so you know. We met some really great people on that trip and had a good time.
    Actually, this could have been another example of B, but I think you get my point.
    Remember rule number 1!
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