Talent Show

Saturday night we went to the passenger talent show. The rest of the cast had gone last week when I was home and said it was the best thing they had ever seen, with the highlight being a man in his eighties playing “America, The Beautiful” on an electric guitar (he was trumped by a tap dancer). This week's roster was all singers, with the works of Stevie Wonder and Billy Joel heavily represented. The winner was a Henry Rollins lookalike who sang “Piano Man,” which as Paul pointed out isn't that hard of a song to sell to an audience full of New Yorkers. I thought the guy who sang “Overjoyed” should have won, but apparently the fact that he read the lyrics off a music stand was held against him. The audience was extremely supportive, even applauding when one of the contestants flubbed the lyrics to “Your Song,” as if to say, “It's okay, get back up on that horse, buddy.” Even more impressive was silence during one young woman's off-key rendition of “As,” which was sung about an octave too low and was marked by her frequently consulting the lyrics which she had written on her hand.

We went to the crew bar later that night and hung out with the SCUBA instructor and Personnel Director. I met the SCUBA instructor a few nights ago and we talked about my lung, which collapsed a few months ago and prevents me from ever SCUBA diving. Ever. The Personnel Director did a magic trick where she was able to make a smudge of cigarette ash go from one hand to the other, which none of us were able to figure out.

This morning when I was in the bathroom we got a phone call saying that I had to go through immigration again since I had disembarked last week. They didn't tell Jason where I should go, so I went down to the Crew Mess Hall where immigration had been set up a few weeks ago. This started a series of me being sent to various parts of the ship, and when I showed up at the correct location a half hour later they were annoyed with me, and I was told that I had held up clearance for a half hour. I'm not sure exactly what clearance is and who was affected by it, but I apologize to everyone who I unknowingly inconvenienced.

While I was in New York I had lunch with my former boss Kathleen and her daughter Maria. We ate in Soho, which I had never been to before, and then walked around for a while, unsuccessfully avoiding conversations with the artists who were selling their works on the street. Also, I'm pretty sure Jim J. Bullock walked by us talking on his cell phone while we were eating brunch. It was great to catch up with them, and find out the goings ons at my old workplace. Hot Dog Day there will be a little dimmer there this year, as the job of the man responsible for its decorations was phased out (that sentence is worded weirdly, his job wasn't to decorate for Hot Dog Day, that was only something he did voluntarily). Each Hot Dog Day, he would add a new giant paper Hot Dog character to his army of Hot Dog decorations, which included a Hot Dog family, a Hot Dog librarian, and a Hot Dog firefighter (commissioned after 9/11). Hot Dog Day was my favorite time of year at work so I was sorry to hear that there wouldn't be any new Hot Dogs. But we all agreed that they would make a great exhibit at an outsider art gallery. We also talked about things that Maria hates, which include helping people, art, and rats touching each other.