• Not Likely to Happen

    7/31/20099:33:33 AM Link 0 comments | Add comment

    I don’t quite understand the idea of scrapbooking. You start with a regular photo frame . . . . . and make available certain items . . . . . like photos, ribbon, stickers, souvenirs and glue. You then combine all of these items into a photo album and decorate.

     
    Now, I would guess . . . . . . . that if you are on a cruise vacation . . . . . and you would like to make a scrapbook album . . . . . . for the trip you are currently on, you would want to collect things from this cruise . . . . . . . things such as photos, announcements, information, or any other item as it relates to the vacation. You might grab a bar menu with your favorite drink on it . . . . . . a dining card signed by your wait staff . . . . . . . an activity sheet showing the days events . . . . . . assorted items from shore . . . . . . and then wrap it all up with stickers, ribbons and glue. That would be my guess.
     
    I was wrong.                    During a recent cruise, there was a scrapbooker’s club or maybe it was a group of people which met on board. I don’t know. What I do know is . . . . . . I don’t get it.
     
    There must have been 40 people or so . . . . . . . all female, but one . . . . . . . . spending their day . . . . . every day . . . . . in the library working on their scrapbook. I wondered as to why they would spend the majority of their vacation in this room.
     
    They are on vacation . . . collecting things from their vacation . . .  so that they can always remember . . . their vacation. But aren’t those memories artificial? They hardly left the room. The only experience’s they have from their cruise are in that scrapbook with photos and other items brought to them by their husbands or family. It’s like they never experienced the ship firsthand. They were not at the deck party when Betty Sue’s grandson won the limbo contest. They were not around when Aunt Lorraine won a bingo jackpot or Uncle Bill went surf riding. They have no visualization of their kids racing down the waterslide. What they do have is all of those memories . . . . wrapped up into a pretty book . . . . . with information brought to them by others.
     
    Do these scrapbooker’s get the full value for their vacation . . . . . or could they have saved the money and put the book together at home. Same result. With me . . . . . I suppose it falls into the same category as spending my day in the gymnasium . . . . defining my abs. It’s not likely to happen. But, the books are pretty . . . . my abs are fine . . . . . and I am on my way to check out the activities at the bar.
     

  • History, Science and Discovery

    7/20/20098:13:28 AM Link 0 comments | Add comment

    Certain things in our life are stuck in our memory . . . regardless of how old . . . or forgetful we become. Your wedding day or the birth of your kids and grandkids quickly come to mind. Today’s 40th anniversary reminds me of these special memories.

    I remember our first cruise . . . . December 17, 1988. We had no idea what to expect, but it is like playing back a movie. The Carnival Celebration sailing 7 days from Miami to San Juan, St Thomas and St Maarten. Brent had just turned 14 . . . . . Angie was 12 . . . . . and we were taking a family vacation of firsts and unknowns. I remember walking the cobblestone streets of San Juan . . . . for the first time of many . . . . . . the snorkeling trip in St Thomas . . . . . . and our first visit to both the French . . . . and Dutch sides of St Maarten.
     
    Yet, the ship holds most of our memories. The celebration was commanded by Captain Cutugno . . . . whom we became friends with. We always looked forward to his noon time announcements. Our cabin number was U 177 . . . . 2 decks below the restaurant . . . . 3 to the Promenade . . . and 4 decks up to the pool. Our waiter was Oscar Diaz . . . . who may have been Angie’s first love. Oscar treated her like a Princess. She still searches for him . . . even today . . . . but, to no avail. Captain Cutugno also commanded the Carnival Spirit . . . . . .14 years later . . . . . . . during Brent and Kim’s shipboard wedding.
     
    Less than a year after our first cruise . . . . . Linda and I started our plans to get into the travel business.
     
    As I began this story with a memory from 40 years ago . . . . . I seem to have gotten a bit off track. 40 years ago . . . . I was with Linda (yes, at 16 years old – the same Linda I married) . . . . . . and friends getting ready to watch the moon landing. At least I was ready to watch it. Most of our friends didn’t really care.
     
    The first walk on the moon wouldn’t be until about 10 PM that night . . . . July 20, 1969 . . . . but the landing that summer afternoon was, in a word . . . . incredible. We were at Denise Delforge’s home. They had the best TV. Her mother had made sandwiches for us and we . . . . or I . . . . sat in anticipation. Anxiously waiting to see history. I still look at the moon today, and think of the achievements which led to that day. Just amazing! It would be another 20 some years before cable TV would give us 24 hours a day of history, science and discovery. I love it.
     
    That’s where I was. Where were you?

  • Sitting Outside the Pork Market

    7/13/20091:56:17 PM Link 0 comments | Add comment

    The last time we visited Rome, Linda and I plus 8 of our friends were looking to enjoy a real authentic Italian dinner. We have come to find out . . . . . that we did not know what a real authentic Italian dinner was . . . . . until we arrived.


     


    But first, I need to begin a couple of days earlier.


     

    We arrived into Rome early enough to see and enjoy as much as we possibly could. To do this we hired a tour company complete with . . . . . . a mini-bus . . . . . . a driver . . . . . . . and a tour guide. We soon found out . . . in grand Italian fashion . . . . that hiring the right tour guide would be a benefit. It requires a guide with a lot of hand gestures . . . a certain way with words . . . and always follows up with a hug. To our delight, these three ingredients could get you to the front of any line and give you more time to explore. Our tour guide’s name was Albierto.

     

    We arrived into Rome . . . . . after an overnight flight . . . . . on the morning of day 1. As we transferred to the center of town, we had our first peek at the Roman traffic system.         WOW!        If you have ever been there, you know what I mean. If you haven’t . . . . . . it’s an experience. After checking into our hotel, Albierto was to meet us outside the lobby for our day visit to the Vatican . . . . . and all sites offered on that side of town. This is where the hand gestures and hugging come in handy as the lines were wrapped around the building, but with Albierto at our side (and he even knew to park us near an outdoor beer vendor). . . . it wasn’t bad as we waited for him to do his thing.

     

    I’m getting to the dinner.

     

    Day 2 greets us with a perfect blue sky and short sleeve temperatures. Albierto arrives bringing us his girlfriend problems. As he explains it “Me needa go to a sleep atta my mama’s homa toanite”. By mid day, he was calling Angie at GalaxSea Cruises . . . . in Atlanta . . . . with his stories . . . . . and had us rolling in the aisles. Day 2 began at the Coliseum, across the way to the Forum, lunch with some Chianti and continued to other destinations, such as . . . . . Trevi Fountain . . . . the Spanish Steps . . . . . more cafés and . . . a cannoli (a story for another day), but did you know . . . . . they do not call them Cannoli’s in Italy?

     

    We ask Albierto if he can find us a good Italian restaurant. The kind that is off the tourist hit list and something we would remember. We offered to buy Albierto and his girlfriend (they made up) dinner as long as he can get us there. The light of day is gone now, as he is driving us through areas of Rome . . . . . which definitely are not on the tourist “hit list”. However, “hit list” may be more accurate than we thought.

     

    Albierto pulls over at a place . . . . . which we didn’t think we wanted to be at. Cars are triple parked . . . . . some are missing a tire or two . . . . small groups of men are smoking cigarettes under the light post . . . . . Tony S is sitting outside the pork market . . . . and we are walking down a dimly lit alley without letting Albierto get more than a few feet away from us. He will be leaving us at the door while he goes to pick up his girlfriend. Oh joy!

     

    As you may imagine . . . . the door was locked. You knock . . . . . you enter . . . . and they lock the door behind you. We soon realized not to judge things by their appearance. Inside it was like a Sunday dinner at Momma Vespucio’s . . . . . outside was like a class of Mafiosa 101. The table was prepared with bottles of water . . . . . bottles of wine . . . . . and large bowls of sausages. Whole sausages of all types and sizes . . . . . and a large butcher knife. Not quite sure if that was for protection . . . or the sausages. In the words of Billy Mays . . . “but wait, there’s more” . . . the staff brings out the appetizers and breads . . . . . and more wine followed by the cheese platter. We haven’t ordered dinner yet, but it certainly will be pasta.    We think.     We decided to order all types of food “family style” and have a taste of everything. All homemade. All excellent. And the evening finishes up with a bottle of Lemoncello. Could have done without that.

     

    We are left to get back by cab as Albierto heads in the other direction with his Italian model at his side. Before leaving, he had arranged for two taxis . . . . and had already given them our destination. We thank the staff for their hospitality, find the keeper of the key and exit into the darkness to our awaiting chariots. Tomorrow . . . . . will find us aboard the Carnival Liberty, looking forward to the rest of our Italian tour. 

  • One Large Boom

    7/7/20091:22:16 PM Link 0 comments | Add comment

    July 4th . . . . . maybe 12 years ago . . . . . . we were having a cookout at our friend Sara’s house. This was to be a festival of a wide assortment of friends. Friends and family of Sara . . . . . . friends and family of us . . . . . friends and family of friends and family . . . . . . . and so on and so on. Our long time friend Phillip (now Sara’s . . . . . friend . . . . . via the friend of a friend thing) and I decided we would be roasting a pig shoulder . . . . butt . . . . . . shank . . . . brisket . . . . or whatever it is called.

     
    This is something we have not done before . . . . . . . but, how hard could it be. Dig a hole . . . . form a base . . . . charcoal and wood . . . . . and about 10 hours or so. So Phillip and I . . . . . joined by our old friend, Miller Lite . . . . . . . . were looking to get an early start. Miller seemed to have cooked pig before . . . . . as he was very influential in the outcome. We will find out later, that Miller is also an experienced fireworks shooter offer.
     
    Here we are . . . . the 3 of us . . . . . . at 6 in the morning . . . . . . preparing our pig. We get the fire going and Phillip and I have a nice long chat with Miller while waiting for the rest of the guests to arrive. We prepare the pool area for some cruise style deck games and sweep out the tennis court . . . for those so inclined. We bring some extra grills to the staging area so that we can throw on some sausages, hamburgers or anything else that may be available. The pig is looking good and the guests are arriving. We didn’t know Pete at the time, but he would have been a big help. The only thing is . . . . he and Miller Lite don’t get along . . . . . . . he would have brought his friend from Miami, Mo Hito . . . . and who knows what decisions our committee of 5 would then have made.
     
    The party is now in full swing and appears to be well attended. Miller’s arch enemy, (none the Wizer) Bud was there . . . . . but, that proved to be a big help with the party games. Off in the distance (we are in a 3 acre clearing) we unexpectedly hear what appears to be the setting off of fireworks. One large boom followed by smaller crackers. Upon investigation, it seems our pig blew up. The phrase “when pigs fly” comes to mind as the pieces were skyrocketing . . . . . maybe 30 feet or so. However, Phillip and I, with the help of Miller and the intrusive Bud, quickly got a handle on the situation. At least we think we did.
     
    It seems . . . . that when you are forming a base . . . . under a fire . . . . . do not use a piece of slate. Slate is pressed together and formed with glue.             I, for one . . . . did not know this.         When this heats up . . . . it explodes . . . . . violently. We quietly pieced the pig together . . . . . as best we could . . . . . . pulled off the charred outside . . . . . . and were left with a fantastic . . . . . lip smacking . . . . . . 4 pounds of the best pulled pork you ever had.
     
     
     

  • One Large Boom

    7/7/20091:21:47 PM Link 0 comments | Add comment

    July 4th . . . . . maybe 12 years ago . . . . . . we were having a cookout at our friend Sara’s house. This was to be a festival of a wide assortment of friends. Friends and family of Sara . . . . . . friends and family of us . . . . . friends and family of friends and family . . . . . . . and so on and so on. Our long time friend Phillip (now Sara’s . . . . . friend . . . . . via the friend of a friend thing) and I decided we would be roasting a pig shoulder . . . . butt . . . . . . shank . . . . brisket . . . . or whatever it is called.

     
    This is something we have not done before . . . . . . . but, how hard could it be. Dig a hole . . . . form a base . . . . charcoal and wood . . . . . and about 10 hours or so. So Phillip and I . . . . . joined by our old friend, Miller Lite . . . . . . . . were looking to get an early start. Miller seemed to have cooked pig before . . . . . as he was very influential in the outcome. We will find out later, that Miller is also an experienced fireworks shooter offer.
     
    Here we are . . . . the 3 of us . . . . . . at 6 in the morning . . . . . . preparing our pig. We get the fire going and Phillip and I have a nice long chat with Miller while waiting for the rest of the guests to arrive. We prepare the pool area for some cruise style deck games and sweep out the tennis court . . . for those so inclined. We bring some extra grills to the staging area so that we can throw on some sausages, hamburgers or anything else that may be available. The pig is looking good and the guests are arriving. We didn’t know Pete at the time, but he would have been a big help. The only thing is . . . . he and Miller Lite don’t get along . . . . . . . he would have brought his friend from Miami, Mo Hito . . . . and who knows what decisions our committee of 5 would then have made.
     
    The party is now in full swing and appears to be well attended. Miller’s arch enemy, (none the Wizer) Bud was there . . . . . but, that proved to be a big help with the party games. Off in the distance (we are in a 3 acre clearing) we unexpectedly hear what appears to be the setting off of fireworks. One large boom followed by smaller crackers. Upon investigation, it seems our pig blew up. The phrase “when pigs fly” comes to mind as the pieces were skyrocketing . . . . . maybe 30 feet or so. However, Phillip and I, with the help of Miller and the intrusive Bud, quickly got a handle on the situation. At least we think we did.
     
    It seems . . . . that when you are forming a base . . . . under a fire . . . . . do not use a piece of slate. Slate is pressed together and formed with glue.             I, for one . . . . did not know this.         When this heats up . . . . it explodes . . . . . violently. We quietly pieced the pig together . . . . . as best we could . . . . . . pulled off the charred outside . . . . . . and were left with a fantastic . . . . . lip smacking . . . . . . 4 pounds of the best pulled pork you ever had.
     
     
     

  • . . Everything Does Come Back

    7/2/20097:26:17 AM Link 0 comments | Add comment

    It seems a great number of the ships are now showing High School Musical 3 . . . . . . . . with the large number of families cruising now . . . . . on the open air decks with the big screens. This is great for the kids . . . . . . . as it seems to be attended by a couple of hundred little ones from age 4 to 14. The younger kids bring their parents or grandparents along . . . . . to sit with them. Most of these elders . . . . . . . . appear to have a hatred for the movie.

     
    Then I begin to wonder . . . . . . Why?
     
    It is a musical about high school kids . . . . . . . some of which are clean cut and into sports. The movie (sorry . . . . musical) involves a good number of song and dance routines. Before reaching the end, the nicest of the kids . . . . . . . . . “hook up” with each other and go on to . . . . . presumably . . . . have a perfect future together.
     
    The lead characters . . . . . . . . as I am told by my grandkids . . . . . . are a real “attraction” to both boys and girls alike. Zac Efron and Vanessa Hudgens are . . . . . I guess you could say property of Disney . . . . . making the term “sex symbol” not allowable.
     
    Then I begin to wonder . . . . . . . Why?
     
    Why would these kids be so gaga over Danny & Sandy? Wait . . . . did I say Danny & Sandy? I must be mixing up my high school musicals. John Travolta played Danny, and Olivia Newton John played the role of Sandy. Not Zac and Vanessa. But now that I am thinking about it . . . . . . these movies (sorry . . . . musicals) are pretty much the same. Are they not? The basis of the movies (sorry . . . . musicals) seems very much the same.
     
    Well, either way . . . . . . . Grease went on to become a classic . . . . and my grandkids have a DVD copy . . . . . . . right next to their collection of the High School Musical series. Can those Disney movies (sorry . . . musicals) obtain the same success? Can Zac Efron have the same appeal as John Travolta? And what will happen of Vanessa? Is she destined for the middle pages of a magazine?
     
    I find . . . . that kids actually enjoy Grease just as much. Maybe more. But the marketing money . . . . . there is the big difference and High School Musical easily wins that one.
     
    I guess it’s true . . . . . . . . everything does come back . . . . . in one form or another. Pretty soon my grandkids will be listening to Beatles music.  
              OMG!    I think they already are.                                     

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