Cruise Chronicles: Cruise Nazi

Cruise Chronicles - My wife and I recently returned from a nine-day Caribbean cruise. These are our tales.

I think the term, "Nazi" is overused. Nowadays we use it as an adjectival noun* to describe anyone who is being a totalitarian asshole about a particular subject. The most famous pop culture reference is, of course, the Soup Nazi from Seinfeld. But in that instance it was intelligently used. A comedy about Jewish people addicted to a decidedly fascist cook? Comedic gold.

"No soup for you!"

I have no qualms about people imitating this sitcom work of art, nor do I have problems with people using a defunct political party to spice up their conversation. I just advocate the diverse use of all the screwed up political movements.

So, when I say there was a cruise Nazi, you can rest assured that I do not use that term lightly. This guy was a freakin' no-kidding, goose-stepping Nazi. Our first encounter with Adolf was on the pool deck. He finished his Heineken (of course!) and motioned to the nearest waiter, "Hey Jose!" The waiter was indeed Hispanic, but casual inspection of his name tag revealed that his name was not, in fact, Jose. I was willing to dismiss this, as perhaps Adolf had a previous waiter whose name was Jose and it was difficult for him to tell them apart. He was old, and that was understandable.

But then he did it again. To an Armenian. I was beginning to suspect a White Power connection. But this still didn't make him a Nazi. Just an asshole.

Our confirmation came a couple days later on the promenade deck. We had assumed our usual chairs, and, like all the old people, devoured our latest books. Adolf took a seat several chairs down from us and began chain smoking. He was soon joined by another old guy, because old people are like chromosomes. You always see them in pairs, and if you do happen to see just one of them, you had better steer clear. It can only be trouble.

Sorry, back to the confirmation. Midway through their conversation, Adolf said to his new friend--let's call him Eva--in the most matter-of-fact tone, "You know, I don't agree with everything he did, but Hitler had some pretty good ideas."

Now that is a Nazi.

*Adjectival noun...damn, I'm grammatically awesome.

Cruise Chronicles: Dancing Waiters

Cruise Chronicles - My wife and I recently returned from a nine-day Caribbean cruise. These are our tales.

Cruise lines recruit from poor nations worldwide, offering men and women the opportunity to make a better life for themselves and for their family. All the cruise lines ask for is hard work, long days, and unyielding courtesy. Oh, and they must dance for us.

Why??

Why do wait staff dance at dinner? Who thought this was a good idea? My ongoing theory is that your typical cruise passengers become insecure when their waiter from Honduras speaks better English than they do. This insecurity, is, of course, not pleasant. So we make our wait staff dance for us when they need reminding of the proper pecking order.

Waiter: Sir, may I offer a full-bodied Tuscan Chianti to complement your filet?

Sir: I don't like your tone. Please flail your arms so I can feel superior.

Cue music: Cent, five cent, ten cent, dollar. Cent, five cent, ten cent, dollar.

Okay, it isn't quite that bad. Sometimes we twirl our napkins in the air to support of our favorite waiter. But they have to earn that.

Side note: One of the dance songs was "Hey Look Me Over," the Broadway tune that was purchased by Huey Long and turned into our alternate LSU fight song, "Hey Fightin' Tigers."

Cruise Chronicles: The Towel Menagerie

Cruise Chronicles - My wife and I recently returned from a nine-day Caribbean cruise. These are our tales. Cruise veterans such as myself expect excellence from our cabin stewards. Sure, they work 16-hour days so that we may enjoy four-star accommodations, free room service, and an evening turn-down all for the average nightly cost of a HoJo's, but we demand more. We demand towel animals.
The first night I was a little disappointed. I mean, there was a mint on the pillow and fresh towels in the bathroom, but where was the towel animal? It was Royal Caribbean, for Pete's sake. I expected better.
The second night, after our formal dinner, we were greeted by a puppy in our state room. Yes! More animals would follow. A bat, a rabbit, a crocodile, a gibbon (or baboon?) and an elephant were part of the linen zoo that was our state room. Our rabbit wore my wife's sunglasses. Apparently our cabin steward was so dedicated to his craft that he rummaged through our things to bedeck his creations in life-giving accoutrements. I encouraged it. I purposely left out sunglasses, rings, watches and bowties with the unadulterated hope that they would end up on a future animal. Can you anthropomorphize an animal which is really a towel? I believe you can.

Bat(h) Mat.

Trix (as in silly rabbit...)

Mortimer the Crocodile.

Gibbs.

Ray.

Lelephant. (li'l and elephant preciously combined)

Cruise Chronicles: Buyer Beware

Cruise Chronicles - My wife and I recently returned from a nine-day Caribbean cruise. These are our tales.

There are many milestones in the cruise industry. The first lifeboat. Balconies. The first lifeboat that actually floated. Reggae music introduced. The drink, "Coco Loco." Ice rinks. Disney characters on demand.

Probably one of the more profitable milestones, however, was the first boat to sell stuff on cruise ships. Since the first time man walked in the sand and declared it slightly enjoyable, people on vacation have been eager to spend willy nilly. I suppose the psychological barrier to large expenses has already been broken and people don't feel that guilt when they buy things. It is kind of like placing a three foot-high wall of sand bags on the other side of a levee. Once that water breaks through the levee it will pause for a hummingbird's heartbeat before going over those little sandbags.

This psychological freedom, if you will, is why outlet malls flourish at beach locales, despite the surprisingly ignored fact that no one needs Waterford crystal to sip their Coco Locos, nor do people need a pair of Timberland boots to trudge through the waves. Car dealerships abound in Atlantic City. You've won $500 on slots?? Let's buy a Lexus!

Cruise ships will sell you crap (duty free!) at every corner. Liquor, jewelry, perfume, cosmetics. Whatever you may want on your cruise vacation. Oh, but you can't drink the liquor on the boat (they plugged that loophole years ago). They also have art auctions and casinos, in case you want to lose your money faster. The sequence of operations for these businesses is strange enough that it should alert the moderately intelligent individual:>

1. They open when the ship enters international waters.

2. They close when the ship enters port.

hmm.

It seems those pesky government regulators don't like these shops, auctions and casinos operating within their jurisdiction. So the ship waits until it enters international waters, free from commercial codes and gaming commissions, where it can take your money with unfettered abandon. Auction houses in the US are highly regulated industries and are professionally run. Art auctions at sea are unregulated and will sell you valueless art by plying you with free alcohol and preventing you from your right to due diligence by limiting your information of the pieces.

We took a nine-day cruise for $899 each. That is $100/day for food, lodging, entertainment and a 2400-mile boat ride. I imagine those old people sitting at the slot machines were subsidizing my cruise vacation. So, here are my suggestions for saving money on your next trip:

Bryan's Money-Saving Cruise Rules

1. If you are not me or my immediate family, spend often and in excess. You're paying for our trip!

2. Never ever buy art on a cruise ship. Shop at Wal-Mart for the same prints.

3. Buy liquor only if you are an alcoholic and need to save that extra $2 on your next bottle of Kahlua.

4. Buy jewelry/perfume only if you broke any of the above rules and need to score points with your significant other for immediate redemption.

Astronomy is Racist

In the news today:  "Texas County Official Sees Race in Term 'Black Hole' "

http://www.foxnews.com/story/0,2933,380143,00.html

Due to this shocking revelation in Dallas County, astronomical observatories around the nation are in danger of losing federal funding and theoretical physicists face numerous civil suits.  The terms "dark matter" and "dark energy" have been stricken from scientific literature, as they are obviously thinly-veiled terms meant to keep the black man down. 

Says one activist-cum-amateur astronomer, "Why would anyone name a gravitational singularity a 'black ho?'  It's a galactic lynching." 

When told the correct term was actually "black hole," the same activist replied, "Oh, I have no problem with that," and left to find a real job.

Nevertheless, special interest groups are seeking to revamp the scientific vocabulary.  The "Milky Way" is prejudiced against Asians, who have a genetic disposition toward lactose intolerance.  The Big Dipper is an obvious mockery of the chronically stupid.  Uranus is under fire for inciting involuntary sexual harassment.

"Our goal is to remove all potentially offensive terms that these scientists have dreamt up for their own personal amusement," said one woman with way too much free time.  "Like quark.  I'm not sure what that is, but I am pretty sure it is offensive to someone."

Cruise Chronicles: Departure

Cruise Chronicles - My wife and I recently returned from a nine-day Caribbean cruise.  These are our tales.

One of the especially endearing elements of my latent obsessive compulsive behavior is my obsession with arriving to places on time.  I like to be so on time, in fact, that I often get there several hours early.  This makes for awkward dinner parties.

Most chronocentric (nice!) vacation elements punish you for arriving early.  If you get to the airport too early you have to wait at the gate through several other flights while the counter people eye you suspiciously and the security people take a more-than-cursory glance at your properly sized carry-on.  So you sit there and buy a (three dollar?!) bottle of water and wait until you have to pee, which will be the only respite from your monotony.  At hotels if you get there before the official check-in time you'll be in the lobby rooting through the ten thousand brochures featuring quaint local activities like the Senior Glass Blowing demonstration or the $20/person See Our Backyard tour.  Your only hope is to come across the fossilized remains of that morning's continental breakfast. 

But cruises reward you for getting there early.  The boat leaves at 4:30 pm?  Get there at 11.  You'll avoid all the lines, be shuffled aboard quickly by employees who are still smiling and cheerful because they have yet to deal with That Old Cranky Guy or Six-Kid German-Speaking Family.  Once onboard they let you walk around like you own the place.  Bars are open.  There is fresh food at the buffet.  Unlimited soft serve! 

The four hours before our boat actually left were some of the best times on our vacation.  We were local to the cruise terminal, and almost adjacent to my Navy base, so we dropped off our car on Navy property (free parking! YES!) and had one of my coworkers drop us off at the terminal (valet!).  We slipped through the embarkation lines and were on the boat in less than twenty minutes.  The boat was ours.  We staked out our window seats, sipped our Virginia Sunrise (boat drink #1) and toasted as the ship departed.  Our suitcases were among the first delivered to the staterooms, and my early and pleasant conversation with the maitre' d guaranteed us a private dinner table away from That Old Cranky Guy and Six-Kid German-Speaking Family.  Unfortunately, however, I misjudged the time needed to walk from our stateroom to the dining room and we arrived at dinner an fifty-six minutes early that evening.  It was to be the only flaw in our otherwise schedule-perfect departure day.