Moon Watch 2005

Last night after dinner, Sue, Beth, Charles the Magician, and I decided to use the hot tub outside. Normally this is a place I stay away from because it’s so crowded, but the falling temperatures and later hours had left it unoccupied, so we jumped at the opportunity. When we got in, Sue noticed a relatively nice watch that had been left behind by a previous occupant. There were three guys in the late twenties drying off a few tables away, so I called out to them and asked if they had left their watch. One of them came over and said something like, “A watch? Oh yeah, that’s my watch,” took the watch, and then walked back to his buddies. At this time we noticed that all three guys were already wearing watches, and they took turns passing the new watch around and trying it on. We also noticed that they were fairly drunk, as they began knocking down chairs and one of the guys partially mooned the other two. I realized that for all of my so-called detective skills, I still have a lot to learn. My hope is that I have gained the trust of these criminals, so that now I can expose their more devious schemes. My other hope is they woke up this morning with their new find, felt guilty, and turned it over to Lost and Found.

After the criminal debacle, the four of us got hot chocolate and looked at the moon, which was slightly orange. I believe the technical term is “Harvest Moon,” but I’m not sure. Our itinerary is all switched up because of Hurricane Ophelia, so we are going to the Bahamas first and then Florida. Charles the Magician and I might go to Disney World on Friday. He will probably teach me how to make Cinderella’s Castle disappear.

Rocky Balboa

I just came back from the gym where three elderly people (two women in their late sixties and one of their husbands) had taken up residence on one of the benches and the shoulder press machine. The two women were in their bathing suits and the gentleman was in shorts and a Polo shirt. All three were barefoot, which has started to gross me when I see it in the gym. Even though I know it's probably no less hygienic than a hundred other things in my life, I get a little Howard Hughes when I watch people's bare feet touch machines or treadmills that I will be using later. The two women carried on a conversation about their fractious relationship with one of their daughters who has just re-entered the work force. The man would join in at various points and then half-heartedly use the machine in a jerky enough manner as to almost guarantee injury. The three took a break to eat from their covered plate they had brought up from the Chocaholic's Buffet. The gym was relatively empty, so maybe that made them feel entitled to eat cream puffs and mousse right in the middle of a workout facility. The man then moved over to the Lat Pull-down machine, which I am convinced he broke, and the women began to henpeck him from their bench (“Less wait, David! David! Put it on “Two,” David! David! You only want just enough to get a workout on your upper body!”) I got significantly less tense when they left.

I then stopped by The Relaxation Room to use their hot tub. There is a small lap pool there, and the rocky conditions of the sea had turned it into a wave pool, with waves sometimes hitting the ceiling. One of the Host Staff was there to ward people off, and she told me there were plans to drain the pool. In retrospect, I wish I had asked her if I could just get in for a few minutes, but maybe there would have been some karmic injury incurred for all of the unkind thoughts I had had about the three oldies in the gym. Yes, I called them "Oldies."

Absolute Power Corrupts Absolutely

I ran up to the buffet today to eat a quick breakfast before we went to the mall. I got an omelet and sat down with Ellie, her husband Laszlo, and the saxophone player Narlisio. To make a long story short, Ellie asked me if I would be willing to do cabin inspections for her since she and Laszlo were going to Epcot that morning. What are cabin inspections, you might ask? Once a week, all of the cabins in the crew area are inspected by the officers to make sure that everything is working and there is no contraband present. It is basically authorized snooping, which is right up my alley. Ellie explained to me that she wanted to select her replacement herself because she didn't want one of the security officers doing it in her stead. My job would be basically to look in the bathrooms to check for general cleanliness and open the refrigerators to make sure no rotting meat was inside. I felt up for the challenge and agreed.

Ten minutes later I found myself paired with the Executive Housekeeper, a very nice woman who I had never met before but whose picture I've frequently seen on the many “Officer Collages” around the ship. She would knock on the door, announce “Cabin Inspection,” and then let herself in with her master key (or “Skeleton Key.” I should have thought to mention that to her and we could have talked about the movie). Ellie's responsible for the cabins of the dancers and then a few random crew members. There were only two awkward moments. One when the Shore Excursion guy opened the door in his towel and seemed annoyed that his shower had been interrupted. I stayed a respectful distance behind and let the EH do all the talking. Another time we walked into the Trombone Player's seemingly empty room. In an unheralded act of foresight, I knocked on the bathroom door before I entered, and a voice replied from inside. I spent the next ten minutes getting nervous about the potentially disastrous consequences. But Ellie had also mentioned that everyone knows when the inspections take place, so maybe these were acts of exhibitionism?

In all, I wasn't able to spend as much time in the rooms as I would have liked. The EH seemed much less interested than I was in examining each framed photograph, reading any of the lists left carelessly on the desks, or finding out what books people were reading. Later on, the rest of the cast grilled me on what I had seen (after they got over their initial belief that I was lying), and I wasn't able to give them many details: a bouquet of roses, pictures of significant others, souvenir photos from theme parks. We all agreed I am the worst person to do that type of job and for the sake of everybody's privacy I should never be allowed to do it again.

A Picture of Me In A Straitjacket Hanging By My Ankles 30 Feet Above The Stage

Life Lessons From Amy Brenneman

When I came back to my room from lunch this afternoon, I turned on the television, almost as if the universe was telling me it was the right thing to do. I was soon rewarded with seventy minutes of high drama of “Judging Amy.” The issues in the show resonated with things I’m currently grappling with in my own life: addiction (my nascent gambling problem), foster care (teaching the kid’s workshop), and murder (my ongoing investigation of the mysterious boat from a few days ago). I made some calls to Sue during the commercial breaks to get some back story, and then settled in to watch one of the finest hourlong dramas of our time.

Sue and I later had a somewhat contentious debate about the character of Judge Amy, who I find to be warm and compassionate but whom Sue describes as “a coldhearted bitch” (direct quote). Sue argues that Amy is only a judge because it gives her a power trip to control families and that she is very self-centered in her new relationship with the lawyer whose wife was brutally murdered. I countered that the most manipulative character on the show is, in fact, Amy’s daughter, but Sue pointed out that she has just learned from the master. In any case, I am using Tyne Daly’s tenacious ability to ferret out the truth in her complex DCFS cases as inspiration for my own detective process. I hope to be able to report with results soon.

Two Exciting Things that Happened To Me At Atlantis

Two weeks ago my parents, aunt, uncle, and cousins spent the week in the Bahamas, so I was able to visit them on Thursday night when we were in port. I met them at Atlantis, which in case I haven’t talked about before is a high end hotel and casino in Paradise Island, about ten minutes away from where the ship docks. You might have heard about it in the media when Rob and Amber from Survivor and The Amazing Race had their televised wedding there and Britney Spears held an impromptu dance party there to promote one of her albums. My cousins have been going there for a few years and they have seen Heidi Klum and Ja Rule (separately) during there time there. I say all this not to be a celebrity namedropper, but to submit evidence as this is a place where the rich and famous mingle.

We were having dinner by the aquarium (Atlantis has the largest outdoor aquarium in the world. That might seem like a lot of qualifiers, but it is really impressive and is one of my favorite places to go on the cruise) when all of the sudden my cousin Jared, who is seventeen and normally pretty animated, suddenly got very quiet. We followed his line of vision and saw that he was staring at two gentlemen who had just sat at the table next to ours with their dates. With an impressive minimal movement of his lips, Jared was able to tell his older brother that Rasheed Wallis and another NBA player whose name I can’t recall now were in the restaurant. You might think that I’ve misspelled Mr. Wallis’ name because I don’t know a lot about the NBA, which is true, but also because I don’t want him to find this blog in case he does a vanity search on the Internet, and I am embarrassed of my actions later on in the evening.

We were all respectful of their privacy during the meal and allowed them to eat in peace. My mother noticed a lot of people unsubtly pretending to take a picture of the aquarium in the background, but really taking a picture of the two basketball players. I noticed that like the Emmy Winner from a few weeks ago, Mr. Wallis politely refused all autograph requests. Anyway, we ate our meals pretending that we didn’t notice the two NBA superstars and their championship rings next to us, and my mother and aunt pretended to carry on their conversation when in fact they were eavesdropping on the NBA superstars’ conversation. Even though both women are related only through marriage, they both possess an unparalleled ability to eavesdrop. They probably just heard what you thought right now, they’re that good.

After the NBA Superstars left, my cousin Jessica noticed that the straw Mr. Wallis had sipped from was still in his (now empty) strawberry daiquiri glass. We joked about going over and taking it, and pretty soon the jokes turned into dares, and the dares turned into loaded threats, and then I found myself walking over and grabbing the straw before the waiter could clear the table. Some of you might be thinking, “That’s a little much, Brendan,” and while I agree with you, I also argue that I was just trying to give a sports fan (my cousin Jared) a memento he would have forever, or throw away in horror a few hours later. I have no idea what ultimately happened to the straw.

After dinner, my dad, aunt, and cousins Adam and Bryanna (the only two who were above 19 and thus could gamble) went into the casino. Five days in proximity to Atlantis had turned my father into a faithful gambler, and he navigated his way to the dollar slots with surprising ease. My cousins lost their money early on, but thanks to some stern guidelines imposed by Bryanna, my father and I were able to come out ahead. He won about eighty dollars, and I won about five. I was elated.

Cut to last night. Beth and I decided to go over to Atlantis to try out the new ice cream shoppe that had opened there. Afterwards we were walking through the casino and I jokingly said we should gamble. She admitted she had brought twenty dollars, so we both sought out some lucky machines. I had a really good feeling about the one she sat down at, and was even going to insist that I play that one, but then decided the gentlemanly thing to do would be to allow her to have it. And also I didn’t want to look like I was crippled by obsessive compulsive disorder. I put in my twenty dollars and quickly watched eighty credits sink down to six. I was contemplating cashing out and putting my dollar fifty in another better machine, when it happened. I hit three sevens. I can’t describe the joy you experience when you hear that dinging and watch your credits climb and climb, so I won’t bother. I printed out my ticket and shouted, “We’re eating lobster tonight!” and went to get my SEVENTY-SIX DOLLARS AND FIFTY CENTS (total winnings = $56.50).