Thank You, Fleetwood Mac

The Houston skyline on screen
There is little arguing that Lindsey Buckingham is a brilliant musical architect, however, after seeing the newest cast of players join Fleetwood Mac live in Houston, February 5, 2019, I will admit that the house that Lindsey helped build can easily accommodate new players. I did not miss Buckingham.
Don’t get me wrong, I consider him one of the best guitarists on the planet and I’m a fan of his solo work. Of course, the Mac replaced him with two fronting guitarists, and also tours with an extra keyboard player, percussionist, guitarist and Stevie’s staple back up singers. (Have I ever seen the Mac or a Nicks solo tour without Sharon Celani? I don’t think so.) I guess it takes all of that to replace that kind of musicianship.
Mike Campbell
Another thing difficult to debate is the size of Buckingham’s ego- equally as large as is his talent- but with that absent, and knowing that Stevie is handily able to command a stage in front of a sold out arena, it was nice to hear Mick Fleetwood and Christine McVie chat a bit.
The Face of Fleetwood Mac
New to the Mac, guitarist Neil Finn, who hails from New Zealand, brings quite a storied past with him of great hits and collaborations with musicians of all walks. Commanding a powerful lead guitar and a wide-brimmed hat, Mike Campbell comes to the Mac from Tom Petty’s band, the Heartbreakers. These two appeared quite comfortable in their new band, and along with their musical prowess, their vocals were really what had me not missing Buckingham. It was refreshing to hear the Buckingham Mac-standards with a bit of a twist with Finn’s vocals filling in just fine.
Opening with one of Fleetwood Mac’s biggest hits, “The Chain,” brought the capacity crowd to their feet. Had the ceiling not been bolted in place, the cheers may have lifted the roof off the house, proving that Fleetwood Mac still has relevance! Going next into “Little Lies” and then “Dreams,” the band made it clear right away that they knew what was expected of them. Hit after hit. Christine looked so at home and happy at her keyboards at stage right. Stevie, as always, held center stage. Mick behind her and John McVie kept to his corner to Mick’s right. Stage left was the domain of Campbell and Finn with the girls singing back up behind them. Between the girls and Mick was the touring percussionist. Behind Christine were the other two touring band mates on guitar and keys.

With a new lineup, the band eager to show off a few of their older tunes, thrilling the diehard Mac fans. Included in the show were old hits, such as “Oh, Well,” “Tell Me All The Things You Do,” and “Black Magic Woman,” as sung from the female’s perspective by Nicks. Having Finn on stage, and to my delight, Mick came forward to introduce a song he once heard on the radio, unsure at that time who the singer or the band was, but knowing that the song was a powerful ballad. Nicks joined Finn in the Crowded House hit, “Don’t Dream It’s Over,” which quite honestly, brought a few tears to my eyes. The other time I was in tears, as were nearly all in the venue, was during the encore, when the band played the Tom Petty hit, “Free Falling,” complete with images of Petty, Nicks and Campbell flashing on the large screen behind them.

The crowd seemed to go craziest when Stevie’s songs came around, such as “Gold Dust Woman” and “Gypsy.” But they also went crazy for McVie’s “Say That You Love Me” and “You Make Loving Fun.” It was in the middle of a powerful rendition of “World Turning” that Mick had fun with his drum solo, shouting incomprehensible words, eyes closed, feeling the beat, knowing where his sticks needed to connect with drums, cymbals or blocks. His enthusiasm at 71 years is amazing. It’s like he leaves his body and a drum spirit takes over.
Christine McVie and Stevie Nicks
Another crowd pleaser was a story Nicks told about coming to Houston to purchase her puppy from a local who had saved many dogs during the horrible flooding of Hurricane Harvey. She then dedicated “Landslide” to her new friend, sung so sweetly with Finn at her side.
Gone were some of the ballads I was hoping to hear, such as “Songbird” or “Sara,” but after two hours of hits, I did not leave the arena feeling gypped. With other hits, like “Hold Me” and “Go Your Own Way,” it was almost like seeing the old band again. One couldn’t help wonder if it’s easier for Nicks to sing along to the old Buckingham hits about their broken love affair without seeing his face staring back from stage left.
Final bow
It was an amazing night without a single hitch that I could see. The band was sharp, happy, close-knit and energetic. They seemed genuinely happy- to be together, to be in Texas, and to hear the crowd roar and cheer.
Mick says thanks and good night
As Mick said the final good night and wishing for us all to be safe and kind one another in this ever-increasingly strange world, there were high fives and hugs from the strangers around me. Before the show, I started a conversation with the man two seats to my right. We both missed the old days of seeing shows at the Houston Summit, and began naming great shows we had seen there…Bowie, Elton John, The Greatful Dead, Peter Gabriel. This led to mentions of other great shows in the many venues of Houston’s mid to late 80s, such as Southern Star Amphitheater, the Music Hall, the Woods Pavilion, Numbers, the old Hard Rock Cafe on Kirby, or the Astrodome and Rice Stadium with bands like Heart, Rush, Pink Floyd, The Rolling Stones. They were impressed at how many bands that I saw back then, so I had to admit that I used to work concert security, so I actually got paid to see most of those shows!
Enjoying my 10th row seats
As my new Mac friends parted ways to leave the arena, I counted the five favorite things I overheard at the show. In random order:
1. So, Christine McVie’s son is playing with the band? (Not realizing that John McVie used to be Christine’s husband!)
2. You mean Lindsey Buckingham isn’t part of the band of the band any more? (Obviously not a huge fan, who would obviously know that he got the boot last year.)
You can always tell who the fans are!
3. I love seeing all the Stevie fans dressed in top hats and lace.
4. Mike Campbell even ‘sounds’ like Tom Petty!
5. People won’t stand up during the whole show, will they? I’d like to think we’re all old enough to enjoy the show seated and relaxed. (I sat down only twice all night, as did most in the 9 rows between me and the stage.)
The best part of my night was having three seats to myself for most of the show. Two guys showed up just as the band started. They had booze in one hand and several hundred dollars worth of band merchandise they had purchased in the other. They left after the third song for another drink, and then left again after the fifth song, never to return. Funny!
The show was over too soon and I ready for more!
Set list:

1. The Chain
2. Little Lies
3. Dreams
4. Second Hand News
5. Say That You Love Me
6. Black Magic Woman
7. Everywhere
8. Rhiannon
9. Tell Me All The Things You Do
10. World Turning
11. Gypsy
12. Oh, Well
13. Don’t Dream It’s Over (Crowded House)
14. Landslide
15. Hold Me
16. Monday Morning
17. You Make Loving Fun
18. Gold Dust Woman
19. Go Your Own Way
Encore:
20. Free Fallin’ (Tom Petty)
21. Don’t Stop
22. All Over Again

Penguin at the concert venue in Houston, TX

My video links:

Landslide:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ttyM-4Fk43k

Gypsy:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=G_76AC9vNeA

Don’t Dream it’s Over:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gnH_k3xJdDw

World Turning:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-JQIqQz7Iu8

Mick’s drum solo:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=O7OjMkNm4S0

Stevie takes a bow Rhiannon:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sL7O3caNZrc

Rhiannon:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ML2htaNdPpg

Everywhere:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=n8ujjuRzAdY

Black Magic Woman:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zxhVE9_ZCSE

The Chain:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BOEkQbAUEiE

Dreams:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3MIIJkJXNNI

Nieuw Amsterdam for a New Penguin

A plane flies over HAL’s Nieuw Amsterdam in Ft. Lauderdale, FL

I’m back on Holland America (HAL) for a seven day Western Caribbean cruise (on the msNieuw Amsterdam, October 21, 2018). HAL is like an old friend- not much has changed, but so much has. HAL still has classy vessels with lots of live music and personal touches, such as
linens in the restrooms instead of paper towels. Sailing on HAL is a lot how I imagine sailing was back in the day.
Linens in the public rest rooms rolled tight.

Hors d’oeuvres at social hour

I’ve experienced, and have heard others talk about, a decline in customer service over the  past few years. I don’t recognize my room attendants, because I hardly see them- gone are the days where they’d practically live in the hallway. I sort of miss hearing their “Good morning” sirs. I can now sit at a bar and not have anyone come ask if I want a drink, which used to drive me crazy, but now I just sort of feel ignored, especially when I know there are hors d’oeuvres available and I just want to indulge because it’s been two hours since I put food in my mouth, and I’m at sea, so obviously I need to eat.

The food is still fantastic, the staff super friendly and the talent in the various shows and music venues are talented and quite worthy of high paychecks, which I have a feeling they don’t necessarily receive. I especially enjoy that during the day, the entertainers are allowed to roam around the ship. It’s fun rubbing elbows with them and having the chance to appreciate their work face to face.
This cruise line tends to skew towards the more mature guest, which is another reason why I tend to like them, as I enjoy the more sophisticated cruise experience. I’ll trade in the fifty announcements a day for the belly flop contests, the bingo games, the trivia challenges with ships on a stick and silly prizes of key chains and pins for a bit of class and sophistication. I like that I don’t have to shake my head in disgust at the bubba’s wearing tee shirts and shorts to the main dining room.

Boozy cruise

As one of the Carnival ships left ahead of us from Ocho Rios, the music kicked up a few notches from their Lido Pool and a maniacal man took the microphone. I couldn’t understand what he was saying, but he brought the crowd to a frenzy with woos and roars. The sounds faded as the ship left; the party heading out to sea with booze-filled revelers enjoying what they hope to remember of it the next day. I admit, I did feel a twinge of jealousy, the excitement of an exuberant sail-away tends to carry one away. We had no real sail-away parties on our ship. But as that Carnival ship left, I swore I heard it ‘hic’ from all the alcohol.

Entertain Me
Some of the best entertainment comes from other guests. I was walking to breakfast and overheard a couple discussing things to do. One mentioned that there was a cooking show at 11, they were going to demonstrate fluffy omelets and blueberry pancakes. The woman said, “Oh, I wonder if they’ll have free samples.” I shook my head. It was all I could do to not say, “Um, hey, have you been to the Lido deck for the all you can eat buffet? It’s free!”
At lunch, I was looking for an empty table. I had ordered the burger from the Dive In bar but had fixed some nachos as an appetizer while I waited for the burger to be made to order. A couple recognized me and waved me over. They seemed a bit familiar, so I acted like I knew them and joined. As they began to bore me with the details of living in their state, of the fires from last summer and the influx of craft breweries, I wondered, “Who ARE these people? Where did I meet them? How the hell do they know me and why am I eating lunch with them?” Finally, as they finished their meal and got up to leave, I saw the woman’s name on the name tag hanging from her neck and realized that I had met them briefly at a bar the previous day. I guess I made a good impression on them and was happy to spend some time talking with them.
Birds of a feather?

There’s a group of Submarine vets on board. Next to us in port was another cruise ship. The sub vet behind me was telling tale of being at sea to his wife and new friends, and made mention that the ship next door had lowered one of its tenders to ferry passengers to shore. I looked and saw that there was not a missing tender- those being used, and in the water below, were quite obviously not one of the tenders from the ship. The open space was not for a tender, or life boat, but where the ships faster boat was stored. Hopefully, his role in the Navy was more as a grunt. I felt it was best to say nothing.

The ship seems sort of empty. Each night at dinner we marvel at how many open seats we see around us. At our own table of eight, it’s just been three of us. There was another couple the first night, but I’ve not seen them since. Last night the three of us were joking that we must have scared them away. I took the blame, having the odd name of Penguin. “We’re not going back to table 50 for dinner, David. That strange fellow with the bird name will be there.” We all laughed. I did see them a few times later in the cruise, and they always said hello and waved, so maybe it wasn’t me. And that’s the beauty of cruises. You can create your own agendas and itineraries. It’s all about options.
Today was a sea day. I love sea days. I love the rolling of the ship and vibrations of the engine. I love watching the water roll by and searching for life- both above and below. When you work in aviation, you’re used to looking up at aircraft. At sea, there are so few to be seen. All evening, people I met asked how my day was, or wanted to know what I had spent my day doing. “Oh, I did this and that…I didn’t leave the ship, though.” That always gets a laugh.
Tonight’s show blew me away. For years I’ve complained about Stiletto Entertainment, the company who was contracted by HAL to perform the shows. The singers are always of great talent, but the writing of the shows were just awful. How many medleys do I have to endure? To accompany the great dancing and voices, there were spectacular sets- which HAL has invested over $3 million in- phenomenal costumes, great songs and strong choreography. After the show, I hunted down Nate, our cruise director, to tell him how thrilled I was, as was everyone around me. Later, I met Michael Hibbs, one of the dancers who I felt stood out for his confidence and precision in his dancing, and how well he plays to the audience. He was quite flattered and was my new best friend.
My other favorite entertainers are…well…all of them, really. The piano duo at Billboard On Board, who sing and play all the greatest hits from the sixties through today are a great asset to the cruise ship. The band in the BB King’s All Stars Lounge really get the place rocking, and it’s always fun to see how many people they can get on the dance floor. There were two specialty acts, a funny comedian and a female vocalist, Derrick Cameron and Tricia Kelly.

Mugging with the entertainment after the vocalist show
I do miss the late night disco up in the Crow’s Next, but I noticed that tonight, after the All Stars show ended, they had a DJ take over, which wasn’t advertised. However, I left to hear the piano duo knock out great sing along tunes. If they would throw in a table of sandwiches and chips late at night with some drink specials…
For a cruise line that tends to cater more towards the older crowd, I’ve been impressed at the amount of younger people on this cruise. I usually feel as if I’m one of the younger people on any given ship. Not this time. There are quite a few people in their 20s and 30s, and a lot of eye candy, too. I’ve joked about how I must like older women to enjoy cruising as much as I do, but I have found myself letting my eyes wander at all the young, pretty ladies, and while enjoying the gym and the spa package, feel quite inadequate working out next to the young, studly men with all the muscles.

Some of the young crowd late at night
While in the Sea View Pool tonight, just before sunset, watching the mountains of Eastern Cuba float by in the distance, a couple emerged from the Lido restaurant. The woman in her tight black dress was obviously pregnant. The young man was also dressed in black. I was impressed at how well the pants and suit matched, not a bit off color. He wore a white shirt with no tie and the scruff on his face diminished the older look the receding hairline was beginning to give him. She sat down on a lounge chair facing Cuba and he stood in front of her facing the pool. The seemed very European. The way he stood there was as if he was born to be there, standing like that.
Tendering in Half Moon Cay

There are over 500 submarine veterans on board. For the most part, they are what you would expect when you hear that a group of submarine veterans are going to be on board. There are a lot of old men in ball caps with ship names, vests full of patches and slow, pudgy white-haired spouses. There are certainly a lot of walkers, canes, wheel chairs and scooters on this ship, right now. But they are a really fun group of people. I met some guys just after coming aboard on Sunday. One asked me if I knew the two different types of ships. There are submarines… and rest are targets. I told him that didn’t make me feel any better, knowing I was on a target, and I hoped this would not turn out to be a submarine voyage.

In the past, other guests have called me cruise director. I’m known for being social, sharing tables, introducing myself, and interjecting a bit of comedy whenever I can. Today, while in the gym, I overheard a woman complain that after she had just lost twelve pounds, she was concerned about the fact that she’s already eaten ice cream twice, and this was only day three. I told her not to worry, as I heard they remove the calories from the ice cream. She took me a bit too seriously and left in silence. She probably went for some ice cream.
Lounging by the sea

This afternoon, I found a nice seat in the shade overlooking the Sea View Pool from deck 10. All I wanted was a nice, quiet place to do some reading with the Caribbean breeze keeping me cool. The position I found was near the vent from the kitchen, where they were obviously baking bread, another thing HAL is known for. There is nothing like the fresh-baked bread on a HAL cruise ship, except, perhaps, for the aroma of it baking! But then, I noticed that the pool on the deck below was now entirely in the shade. Since I’m anti sun, I decided to give up on reading and changed into my swim trunks for a dip in the pool and time in the Jacuzzi- a decision well made! I enjoyed it so much that an evening swim just before getting ready for dinner became tradition.

Tomorrow is another port stop, and I anticipate the masses leaving the ship to me and a handful of others who, like me, won’t be leaving. I’ll work out, enjoy the spa facilities, lunch with no lines, and the ability to move from one end of the ship to the other without a wall of slow-moving grandparents who have created a human wall armed with walkers, canes and scooters, around which it is impossible to pass.

Ways I like to live deliciously on a cruise ship:

Spa package. I wake up, eat a light breakfast, explore the seas and horizons, or port views, work out, lie in the relaxing thermal spa loungers, take a steam bath, shower, Jacuzzi, steam bath, shower, lie a second time on the thermal spa loungers. If time permits, repeat.
Lunch. Maybe a freshly-made burger? Hand-thrown pizza? Sushi? Fish and chips? Whatever- don’t pass on some dessert. Desserts used to be bland. Yay! Now they are tasty and hard to pass up.

Explore, then find a shady spot and do some reading.
Lunch from the Lido Buffet

When at sea, watch the waves float by. Count the seaweed. Look for whales. If you find none, check the Lido pool.
High tea with scones and dainties. It’s only been three hours since I last ate!
Nap. Preferably in a shady and breezy spot on deck, or in my cabin.
Afternoon swim and whirlpool on the Sea Deck.
Grab a cheese plate and fresh-baked bread and enjoy with a glass of wine in my room as I ready myself for dinner.
Happy hour with new friends.
Dinner. If I can’t choose between two items, I order both. If seated with great table mates, order extra dishes to share! I’ve never had a bad meal on any of my Holland America voyages.
Penguin and ice cream

After dinner show in the main stage.

Post show entertainment.
Evening ice cream.
Time in my state room writing.
Bed time and sleeping in late.
Penguin with one of the on board penguins

Penguin Anonymous Part One

I really wanted some anonymity on this cruise. The last time I sailed was the day of the Dr. Dao incident, where a man was dragged off a plane in Chicago. For the next few days, as we sailed across the Atlantic towards Lisbon, news would come in about the incident. As I met more and more people, they would ask me about it- had I heard the latest? (Duh.) What did I think? Had I had anything like that happen on my flights? And more annoying… “Let me tell you about what happened to my sister on her flight to Boise a few years ago…” like I care. Let me tell you horror stories about my interactions with your job while you’re on holiday!

In the ever-social Crow’s Nest, deck 11 forward
I’ve failed. I keep meeting people and making new friends. Then I run into them later and get distracted from my agenda of seclusion. Sometimes I am good at remembering who they are. I was ordering a burger and had been looking at the menu board. I turned to order to find standing in front of me, a woman, who had not been there before. She figured out that I was about to place my order and asked if she was cutting in front of me. I stated that she was, indeed, but I was not concerned about it, and invited her to continue. She insisted that I go ahead and order, and we struck up a conversation. Later in the day, I walked past her in the Gallery Bar, one of my favorite spaces on board the ship, save for the annoying TV screens with sports. She called out and asked if I was looking to cut in line. I asked her if there was something going on that was worth cutting in line for. After all, on a cruise, if you see a line, you tend to want to get into it. It’s either involving delicious food, something being given away, or a chance to get off and explore a new port destination.
I met a wonderful couple from Nova Scotia and we were hitting it off quite well. They asked what I did for a living, then realized that it came across as rude, and said I needn’t answer if I didn’t want. I laughed, and they looked at me quizzically. I had to explain that I was thinking of telling people that I worked in the mail room, just to avoid having to talk about my job while on vacation.
There was even a book of penguins on board

When you are Penguin, you are quite memorable. Everyone knows the name and my namesake is on all of my shirts. I can’t walk down deck three and not hear the photography guy shout out, “Hey, it’s
King Penguin!” Wish I had brought my crown! I am starting to feel like a big fish.

Tonight, I sat at the Billboard On Board bar to listen to the fantastic piano duo. I like to sit at the piano bar to watch the players pound the ivories and hammer out hit after hit as the crowd, and I, sing along. I turned to see who else might be in the bar and saw the older Jewish couple I had met the night before. They waved, called my name and seemed to want me to go join them. I turned again to sing along to the band, not wanting to. Nice couple, with fantastic stories, but I wanted to sing and not engage in conversation in a room where it was difficult to hear, with a couple who had difficulty in hearing.
Later, one of the entertainers I had met the night before came in and sat down. He was by himself and waved to me- it was my new friend, Michael Hibbs. I love meeting entertainers, so this time I got up and joined him at the back of the bar. He informed me that he was not allowed to sit at the bar unless there were no passengers there, and thanked me for joining him. It was fun asking him questions about ship-board life as we joined in singing along to the various chorus verses. I thought we sounded quite good together. Did I mention that I had already had a few drinks?
At the end of the set, I was talking to the piano duo and mentioned that Michael and I had discussed the practice of entertainers not eating in the main dining room unless invited by guests. It didn’t dawn on me to invite Michael to dinner, so I asked they would do so for me, as well as extending the invitation to the two of them. They would join on our final night, but only half of the duo could make it. Your loss, Megan!

Dinner with Michael from the piano duo, Michael Hibbs, the dancer, me, Annette and Matt, my table mates
Drill Time
There was a life boat drill on board. As a flight attendant serving on our local safety committee, I found it quite interesting to observe- not only the manner in which the life boats are swung out over the water and eventually lowered into it, but at how the crew seemed to be learning and taking instruction from others who were quite obviously astute at what it took to orchestrate the abandoning of ship, even in drill form. On another day, I was able to observe a man overboard drill. People kept commenting on how long it took to get the boat into the water, failing to realize that most occurrences take place at sea, and it takes time for the ship to come to a safe speed for which to lower a boat into the water.

Lifeboat drill on Deck 3
Today’s port was Ocho Rios, Jamaica. Most of the ship’s passengers were in port. I worked out in the gym with only about five others. I had the thermal spa to myself. I had the whirlpool to myself. I was in heaven. When I was finished, I thought it must be about 12:30. I was an hour off. How time flies when having fun! I went to the burger bar, The Dive In, and had a burger and fries. They must be the best burgers at sea, with fresh baked buns and crisp- as-hell fries. Love it!
For the fourth time, I joined my table mates, Matt and Annette, in the Main Dining Room for dinner. Talking to my table mates, from Washington state, is fun. They are young, in love, with grown children, and seem to love life in the same manner as I do. I gave them my card at dinner. I hope I hear from them, but they are not on social media and never gave me their information. As nice as it is to meet people, there are times I guess you just know these people are only now people. Matt only recently started drinking, so it was fun every night to hear of his new drinking experiences that day. They attended mixology classes, tried new drinks, went on booze cruises in port, and were really enjoying their time away.
A look at the anchor chain

I tried something new. I exfoliated. When I bought the spa package, it included an exfoliation kit. It’s basically salt and seeds. It made a huge mess in the shower, but it all washed down the drain just fine. My skin is so freaking soft, I can’t stop touching myself. It’s very awkward. I don’t care. Most of these people will never see me again. Only a handful know who I am. I am Penguin, dammit. By the way, I’m talking about my arms and face.

Three more nights left. I really dislike how short a seven-day cruise feels after being used to 13-16 day cruises. I keep getting lost on this ship, thinking I’m going forward, when I’m going aft, thinking I’m port side when I’m starboard. I’ll get the hang of things on day six. Then I leave. That’s how it works. On the longer cruises, just as I start to feel like I know the ship, I think to myself, had I been on a seven day cruise, I’d be leaving tomorrow.

Our voyage on the map
The Wall
There comes a day on each cruise where I hit a wall, much like a rogue wave that hits a ship and turns it sideways. There is much food, so much drink, so much fun, my body kicks in like, whoa, that’s enough. Slow down. We can only handle so much vacation at one time. I know…it’s quite odd. My whole life is a vacation. I’m not used to drinking this much. I’m not used to the rich foods. I’m not even used to working out so many days in a row. I’m not used to being so friendly to so many people. I really am in introvert and I need my time to recharge. And I know, that also sounds odd, as a flight attendant, who is always on stage to make people feel welcome and valued. I’m on vacation, so I don’t want to have be that person, but I can’t help it.
To the lady looking for the forward part of the ship, I am her guide. To the woman asking how to get to the Lido buffet, ignoring the fact that the last thing in life that you need is a buffet, I’m your guide. To the guy in the seminar asking why there are 24 hours in a day and not ten, or some derivative of ten, acknowledging that there are 13 lunar cycles, I will mention that we live on Earth and not the moon, and there are different lunar cycles than solar, and that we divided it into 24 because that is how many times twelve noon hits at the height of the solar cycle, and you may shake your head like it’s the fault of the man trying to sell you a shiny Tag watch, and you may disregard me as some know it all, while the entire staff are secretly giving me fist bumps and high fives for speaking up, which they can’t do, I am your guide. Even if I may be, like you, on vacation. It’s hard to turn it off.(I thought these Navy guys were all going to be smart!)

Penguin towel in my room for down time

With my walls caving in on me, I took it easy for much of the day. After all, I am on vacation. I awoke and commented out loud as I walked into the Lido dining room, “What the hell are all of you doing here? Shouldn’t you all be off the ship and exploring Grand Cayman? I had to wait in line for my Eggs Benedicts, a wonderful Holland American tradition. I do ask for double ham, as I find their slices to be quite thin. They oblige without issue. I also love the crispy hash-browns, which always compliments a full and quite healthy breakfast. Right? Whatever. At least I passed on the freshly-baked cinnamon rolls. That’s no easy task, as I’ve found in previous mornings perusing the lavish buffet offerings. Avoid the temptation and order the free room service!
There are so many interesting people on board. Some I meet fact to face. Others. I overhear. As we left Georgetown, Grand Cayman, following the Carnival ships with their wing-like smoke stacks, I was talking with a young man from England and his girlfriend. I met him on our second day, as he boarded the elevator going up, with his tattooed arms and shoulders exposed and red as a lobster from a day spent in the sun. His cute girlfriend with her blond curls clung close to his side but never spoke to me. He was seated next to the pool with a man who obviously was his grandfather. A man walked up to him, “You still look hot. How is your sun burn feeling?” The young muscled man answered that he was doing quite well. His girlfriend shot a glare that burned through him, the most animated I’d ever seen her. I laughed, and the sun tanned youth looked at me quizzically. He was obviously being hit on. I mean, come on… “You still look hot?” That’s a come on if I ever heard one. The man moved on, stumbling a bit.
The entertainment on this ship has been phenomenal. The show with the dancing cast a few nights ago was filled with song and dance sequences that really dazzled. I made these comments to Nick, the cruise director. As much as he appreciated hearing my praise, it was nothing compared to the feedback from one of the dancers, when complimenting his confidence in his dancing. He really looks like he’s enjoying what he’s doing, not just making a stage smile for the audience. The second show, while packed with great voices, more excellent costumes and live music, was not as spectacular. Never a fan of medleys, as I’ve mentioned, that’s pretty much all it was, save for a few full songs, including a duet with a performance of Whitney Houston that had me in tears during the song and on my feet at its conclusion. They should create a show like that! Singing with legends!
Me with our Cruise Director, Nick

As I waited to speak to Nick, he was getting an ear full from a woman who had obviously had a few more sheets added to the wind than most. She was complaining about things a cruise director has no influence over. When she finally stumbled away, Nick extended his hand and we exchanged pleasantries. I leaned in and said, “So, I want to discuss with you my displeasure in the quality of toilet tissue on this ship. I know you can do something about this.” He laughed out loud, and we spoke at length at how similar our jobs can be in dealing with some interesting characters.

Penguin Anonymous Part Two
One of the things I really used to love about HAL cruises is the daily high tea service. It’s just so proper. I cruise to experience what it must have been like back in the heyday. This cruise, I have given up on my daily high tea experience, realizing that I can have tea on my own, when I want it, where I want it, and as necessary…alone.
It’s always the same. I walk into the main dining room for tea at 3:00. I’m seated at a table with people I have yet to meet. So here I have to decide once more, do I lie and tell everyone I work in the mail room of an insurance company ensuring no more talk of work, or I do spend the next half hour holding court answering questions about my job, my route, how long we stay in a city, or giving my opinion on what their cousin Frank should do about the horrid experience he had on my airline six months ago?

There were 7 ships in port in Cozumel
Next, I use my poker face to hide any reactions watching these heathens fail at how to take tea properly. I soon get over this as I realize that the service is spotty. Sometimes I get passed by with the one tray of food I’m interested in. On this sailing, a tea was poured into my cup. It was black English tea. I don’t drink black English tea. Time was, you got a cup of hot water and prepared the tea yourself. Oh, wait. We are dealing with a majority of heathens who can’t prepare a proper cup of tea.
Soon, the captain will make an announcement about the trip and expected weather, but I can’t hear it because no one shuts up to listen. They keep going on about the shop where they bought their blouse, the lousy pour of the bar drinks at that one bar they go to back home, or about their kids having another baby soon, which means they’ll want to book another cruise to avoid baby sitting duties.
One tea on this trip was enough for me to realize that I can simply gather a cup from numerous locations around the ship, as well as some dainties or small sandwiches- if I’m even hungry- from the Lido buffet or up in the Crow’s Nest, which, on this ship, has been converted into a game room, cum library, cum shore excursion HQ. It’s still a nice place to sit and meet, while taking in the expansive views from twelve floors above the water, looking over the bow of the ship.
Doppelgangers
My friend Kevin spoke up as soon as I mentioned this cruise on social media, saying he wanted to come along with me. We were in a mutual friend’s wedding and we’ve known one another for a long time. I’ve always enjoyed his company and picking his sharp mind. He had to back out, in the end, which is why I’m on board solo. He is, however, on board. At least, someone is on board who looks so much like him, it’s all I can do to not go up to him and ask why he didn’t just say he wanted his own state room.

Ben Franklin and Penguin
Also on board is my best friend from LA, Shawn, complete with lanky legs and intense brown eyes, only about 15 years younger. Tonight, I met Ben Franklin- got my photo with him, to boot, if you don’t believe me. That’s not all. I sat next to a man last night who looked so much like New York Mayor, Ed Koch, I thought I heard taxis honking on the street outside.
I did a double-take when I saw a woman at lunch who looked just like the one I dated years ago. I longed to go engage her in conversation, but her large, brutish husband kept me seated securely in my table across the room, far from his fists.
Then, there’s Lewis CK. He’s on board. I actually do believe it’s really him, however. That’s exciting. I’ve not had the chance to get up close to meet him, and I’d break my Penguin silence to do so, even if I have to hear him complain about flying. Then suddenly, I never saw him again. I think he must have been on board to discuss upcoming entertainment options and returned home from one of the port stops.
Branding
Everyone knows that I’m a brand ambassador for Holland America. I love the classic style, the smaller ships, the little touches, the live music. I have more status on other lines, and while there is a cruise ship for every person, something good about every cruise line, I’ve found a line that I love in Holland America.

I think one thing that kept dawning on me, since it’s been about three years since my last sailing on this cruise line, is finding disappointment at some of the changes I noticed. The funny thing is hearing the same comments from others when making mention of it. One person even told me that Holland America is known for change. So if you’re listening HAL, I just want to say stop it. I’ve found what I like. If you keep changing things, if you keep wanting to be like the other cruise lines with their brassy looks and huge ships, then I might as well just leave now and try Princess, or RCL.

The biggest appeal to me in a cruise vacation is being that I am no CEO of a corporation- my bank account is far less limited, my bar tab will not be able to fund small third-world countries- but when I sail on HAL, I feel like I’m royalty. For the time I’m on board the ship, I’m just as rich or as important as all the other guests. My fine watches tick the same as theirs, and I do have some fine watches. Maybe I don’t have the big suite or priority boarding or free laundry service, but when I’m sitting at the table enjoying tea, or ordering wine with my meal, or enjoying a culinary class on board, no one else knows that. That’s a secret between you and me.

Grand foyer centerpiece
Other cruise lines nickle and dime everything. They throw in all these specialty restaurants and charge more money. Want to use the dry sauna? On HAL, it’s included. Others have the belly flop contests and chug-a-lugs and ships on a stick prizes. I enjoy my rolled rest-room linen instead of paper towels. I relish the fresh flowers all around me. I gawk at the pieces of art aboard the vessel. I cherish the opportunity to, for a week, enjoy a nightly dinner and a show. Ah, the delicious life.
In the past, some of the shows have been disappointing, and I’ve never held back in stating my opinions. The talent is usually there, but the shows were simply lacking in appeal or relevance. There is a lot of talk among passengers and crew of entertainment changes coming to Holland America in the near future, and some, it seems, may be relegated to larger ships only. HAL has gone the route of branding with so many icons, it’s hard to tell upon which cruise line I’m sailing. The NY Times, Oprah, America’s Test Kitchen, XTC Tours, The Lincoln Center, Billboard Music, BB King- all have good billing on board.
While one of my favorite things on HAL sailings are the options for live music, I’m hearing tale of fewer stage shows in favor of more music walk venues. Instead of dinner and a show, as rumor has it, soon it will be dinner, and then walk up and down deck 2 for the entertainment. There will be five or so acts in various locations, all with three shows a night. You go from one to the other. You have to chase down the entertainment. And on the main stage will be acts brought in from here and there.
Steak and lobster dinner

I noticed how the classical music that used to play before dinner now has show times that do not always revolve around dinner time, and some nights, there was no performance at all. Gone are the times they would come into the dining room and play a few songs between sets in their own venue. Not a single night was I able to enjoy a glass of wine and listen to classical music before taking my seat at dinner.

As far as options, it sounds great on paper. But even with just the two main late-night music venues on Nieuw Amsterdam this past week, I was entertainment-deprived! I loved the piano duo sing along in the Billboard On Board lounge, but I also loved the BB King All Stars. One group takes a break, so head to the other venue. Then, they take a break, and the first venue just finished their show. Ugh.
Normally, things on Hal cruises shut down early. They are known for not having the youngest crowds on board. There’s nothing worse for an artist than performing to an empty room on a ship with a few thousand guests. This cruise was different, and where I normally seem to shut the ship down at night, I never left for my cabin where there weren’t tons of fellow cruisers out, playing in the casino, sitting in the empty Lido Buffet (because it closes far too early), looking for more entertainment and things to do. It was a bit Twilight Zone to hear people, and not just the young ones, comment that there wasn’t enough to do late at night. Maybe it has come time for me to start checking out other cruise lines. Just as I earn my third star in HAL’s Mariner Society.
Speaking of Royalty
There is a head of state who is surrounded by all things luxurious. There is wealth at his finger tips. There are assistants at his beck and call. At times, he must give audience to those he might rather stick a fork in his eye than to endure another ten minutes of them going on about themselves and their dreary little lives. But I digress.

Feeling fairly regal

When I’m enjoying my cruise, I feel like such a head of state. I wear my best watches and turn my manners up to ten. I can converse with the cream of the crop as easily as with the crew. My bed is made each day and turned down. I am treated to live entertainment. Champagne often flows. And there are times I must give audience to people I really hope to never see again, and for the life of me, while they know who I am, I keep mulling over in my mind who the hell they are and when did we meet? As long as I keep smiling and nodding, they think I’m actually interested in what they say. Why I do that, I don’t know. I’m not head of state and I don’t need their vote!
I don’t have a big bank account, but I live a wealthy life. I surround myself with great people, adventure, good taste, as much laughter as possible, and allow myself the freedom to take advantage of things in life that I value, that provide the opportunity to grow and advance, and expose me to new ways of looking at things.
It was so interesting to disembark from the ship today and head outside to await my prearranged transport to the air terminal for my flight home- what felt like should have been a private plane after the week of pampering I just enjoyed. What I found so amazing was that I was still surrounded by all the passengers on my ship…I even recognized quite a few…but there were so many people I had never seen before. Again, this is why I enjoy smaller ships. How many times have I met fun and interesting people on one of the last nights of the cruise, to hear, “Why didn’t we meet this Penguin guy sooner?” I know! Why?

My new friend, Michael, and staff wave farewell

I suppose this is the reason why Penguin Anonymous failed. I keep searching for interesting people, good times, opportunities. Those don’t often present themselves in a vacuum. This is also partly why I enjoy sailing solo. With a group of people, all doing the same activities, sharing tables and tours, it’s more difficult to make those connections that leave you searching for people on the last night to exchange contact information. Some people, as I mentioned are only now people, but I have quite a few friends from past cruises who I’m still in touch with, and love hearing from. Adding to that list is something I like to do.
Inside the airport, checking in for my flight home, I encountered people from the hotel before the cruise, who had spent the past week on other ships. I almost wanted to ask how their vacations went, but I had gone back into introvert mode and needed to recharge.
I slipped past security without incident, and now that I was back in my world, as an aviation worker, returning to my turf, boarded my flight home having to take the jump seat in the aft galley because the flight was full and I was flying standby. It was a disappointing way to end a week on one of the better ships upon which I’ve sailed, but it’s this that allows me the opportunity to experience vacations at sea. I spotted some of my HAL ship mates on board my flight, as I sort of hid in the back galley. I half expected to hear my name being shouted. “There’s that Penguin fellow! Let’s have a chat!” Maybe next time, my friends. See you on board!

Some happy cats when I got home for nap time!


Feel free to check off your reaction and leave your feedback below!

You can also read other related stories: 
https://penguinlust.blogspot.com/search?q=lyngbakr
https://penguinlust.blogspot.com/2011/11/penguins-cruise-to-bermuda.html
https://penguinlust.blogspot.com/2017/05/two-weeks-at-sea-on-star-legend.html 

Near to my Heart

Stylized view of Corpus
One thing I may never get used to as I age is how time seems to warp. In school, a year took forever. Now they fly past like the clouds in the windows outside my seat at 34,000 feet. When I was a boy and I got to fly down to Corpus Christi, I pretended the clouds were giant space ships and my shuttle craft was dodging around the armada amassed in the nearby star system. I’ve always had an active imagination, and I always loved flying to South Texas.
The last time I flew to Corpus Christi was in 1990. That is when we moved my grandmother to Dallas. Corpus is so full of rich, wonderful memories- walking to the corner grocery store with my grandfather, holding his hand, which to do so, my arm raised up to meet his. The cicadas sang in the trees, leaving their brown shells on the swing set, in the bushes, and even on the side of the house. I would help my grandparents in the garden behind the garage, its bounty would become fried okra, boiled greens, green beans and potatoes- side dishes to the best home-fried chicken and skillet corn bread made with bacon grease. It was always amazing how they could gather so many vegetables for all of us.
My parents were married in Corpus. I love viewing the old photos, seeing my mom’s family there in Corpus, all so young, along with my dad’s family, who had all grown up in that house. There were so few times the two families were together. I loved how the back yard was always the prime backdrop for family photos. I remember my grandmother telling me how, when they moved into this house when it was new, across the street was farm land.
My childhood trips to Corpus with my cousin were the best. She and I would play restaurant in the back yard, or bus company in the dining room. Sometimes, I took the bus to and from Houston, so I had a fondness for Trailway’s buses. As I got older, I would fly down. It used to be so inexpensive that I could buy my own tickets from what I’d saved from my allowance.
Departing Corpus in the early morning
When I saw that I had a Corpus layover in my line for the month, I had to call my Aunt to find out when it was that Memaw moved to Dallas. We struggled, but finally determined that she moved to Dallas just in time for her 80thbirthday. Subtracting when she died, we determined that she moved in 1990, and this where the time warp freaks me out.
It’s been twenty-eight years since I was in Corpus. I was twenty-three then. There have been more years that I’ve been away from Corpus than when I went to visit my grandparents. It just doesn’t seem possible. Was it that long ago I was in the rear-facing seat of their huge land yacht, also known as a station wagon, with my cousin, waving at motorists behind us, while listening to the Police sing ‘Every Breath you Take’ on the radio? Was it that long ago we’d drive to Mustang island to swim in the surf and languish as I’d look back to see my grandfather waving me back in, fearing I was out too far in the surf? Was it that long ago we’d come in from the back yard, back full of sweat, to hear the string of bells hanging on the door sill chime as the door closed, as our eyes adjusted to the darkness inside, the way it was kept, in order to keep the heat at bay as the window air conditioning units strummed in unison? Was it all that long ago?
It’s nice that these memories still keep me company and have me longing for the more simpler times, when Memaw would brush my hair, my grandfather would teach me how to play dominoes, and we’d drive to the T-heads to go fishing. When I feel old, I think my cousin, Leslie, and how we would have so much fun together.
Penguin on the T-head
Corpus Christi is near and dear to my heart. I’ve always loved the city by the bay and that iconic bridge over the ship channel. After Pa died and Memaw moved to Dallas, I no longer had a reason to visit. I’ve missed it terribly. The house my grandparents bought across from the farm lands, which soon became homes, where we’d wash off in the back yard from the garden hose after returning from the beach. The same yard where we’d hide Easter eggs in the bushes (one year, finding an egg overlooked from the year prior!) is still there- its trees taller. That old house is just how I remember it, still white with green shudders, just as they left it only, it’s not in as good a shape and is showing its age.
Shrimp boat
I have another trip to Corpus in a few weeks. I hope I can get back many more times. It’s such a bitter-sweet trip. I didn’t realize that on the ride to our hotel we’d pass the old bank building where Memaw used to work and would love showing me off to her friends. I saw it as we buzzed past on the freeway, pointing it out to my crew, “Oh, that’s the building where my grandmother used to work.” Of course, the bank has changed names.
The lump in my throat nearly brought a tear to my eye as I could see my grandparents, with their white hair and smiles, looking down on me standing in the back yard in the shade of the trees planted when my father and his siblings were infants. And those bells that hung on the door sill that rang as the door opened or closed, now hang on the sill of the door in my own home. We may leave the past, but the past never fully leaves us. I’m just fortunate to have such a rich and happy past that I bring along with me. A past that is still very much alive in Corpus Christi.

A Penguinmas Miracle

I’m out of this world!

In December of 1967, my mother turned twenty. Two days later, I was born. I always felt as if having birthdays two days apart made us even closer. Mom didn’t have a lot of money when I was very young, which isn’t anything I ever noticed. I never had big parties with lots of friends and elaborate gifts. What I had was a good meal, home made eclairs with ice cream, a few candles to blow out, and a few gifts, which always meant the world to me, as modest as they may have been. What I had most of, however, was love. I always cherished how Mom and I would celebrate together, on the day in between. My birthday has always been my favorite day of the year, thanks to all that Mom did to make it so special.

As I got older, I found out that I’m not the only one who loves their birthday. Mother Airline loves birthdays so much, they make it paid holiday. I love this, as I’ve always thought it best to work on your birthday. None of that taking the day off for me. I want the wishes. I want the dinner and a round of drinks. It’s the following day, which should be taken off- if nothing else than to recover! As Mother Airline ensures, it IS a holiday, like Christmas is the day for celebrating Christ’s birthday, I always wish others a similar holiday-styled greeting. Happy Jasonmas. Happy Lindamas. Happy insert-name-here-mas!
I scoff when people apologize for belated birthday wishes. Are you kidding? Make my birthday more than one day? Thank you, please! When I turned forty, I stretched it out to a whole freaking month! I had friends all over the globe, so I had a party at home in the Bay Area, I had a party with friends in Portland, I partied all month on layovers all over the country. I now see why they celebrate the emperor’s birthday in Japan. Were I emperor, we’d be all be celebrating my big day.
Penguin’s first birthday

Then I hit fifty. All of a sudden, I was of the opinion that maybe it was time to put birthday celebrations to rest, sort of like some people no longer celebrate birthdays, but anniversaries of past birthdays. How could I be fifty? I don’t act fifty, whatever that means. I don’t feel fifty, except when my back is in spasm, my eyes are blurry, I can’t remember what day it is…okay, maybe I do feel fifty!

Really, my fiftieth birthday was just another day. I felt no different at the end of the day as I had from the end of the previous one. Hide my calendar and I would have no idea I had circled the sun fifty times. As I fretted about turning fifty in the weeks leading up to it, the dread soon began to fade. I half wanted to celebrate Penguinmas in a big way, and, as I had done for my fortieth, in more than one location. However, I wound up keeping things fairly low-key.
With Penguinmas being a paid holiday, I picked up a trip to Lima, so I decided to celebrate on the day before, as I had done with Mom for so many years. As the day before came and went, I found some very special things, what came to be known as Penguinmas miracles.
As a stark reminder that this was my fiftieth birthday. I awoke, just barely, and began to stretch. Charlie horse. The pain was mind-numbing, but then I started to laugh. My cats backed up and watched in horror. Such pain and laughter all at once. We start losing our minds at fifty, don’t we? It was a miracle I made it to fifty. What a welcome!
When the pain subsided, I realized that I was hearing rain. It filled my home with that wonderful sound it makes as it hits my roof. My cats don’t normally sleep with me, especially the boy. This day, however, they were both glued to my side. Rain on my roof, a chill in the December air, cats at my side, warm covers, all I wanted to do was remain buried under there all day, but I had a lunch date, so I limped out to prepare for Penguinmas.
Driving in the cold rain across town was nothing in order that I could have a wonderful lunch with a good friend. We met at a nice pizza joint near downtown. The rain was relentless, which is not the type of weather I normally enjoy being out in. Rain is normally for naps under the blanket with cats and an old movie, pretty much the way in which my day had begun. Lunch was had, as well as a wonderful conversation. Better yet, it cost me nothing. For this, I’ll venture out any time, birthday or not, rain or shine.
Mom and both of my grand parents dote over me.

Next on the day’s agenda was drinks with one of my longest-time friends. Living in a high rise downtown, I always enjoy the views of one of my favorite skylines in the world. My love of architecture was born in Houston, because of the modern buildings, and they still catch my fancy. I love being in their midst. My friend and I had dinner at the Hard Rock Cafe, and he then treated me to a show. While not a huge fan of Winona Judd, I thoroughly enjoyed an evening listening to her tell stories between songs and carols on a stage, which was illuminated by several Christmas trees. It left me feeling very festive.
After the show, the fun continued by meeting a work friend for yet more drinks. I’m not a fan of bars, or the bar scene, but it’s fun to be out and mingling with the other humans. Since it’s something I do so infrequently, I quite enjoyed it.
Then came my favorite- SNOW! I know, in Houston! It was a Penguinmas miracle! It started to come

My grandparents just after the original Penguinmas

down around 10:00pm and it did so for quite a while, in large flake-clusters. The bar emptied for a few minutes as patrons, with phones in hand, set out for the photos that lit up social media. I’m not exactly a newcomer to snow, so I stayed put, sucking down my brew.

I remember it snowing in Houston when I was very young. Mom even picked me up from school early so I could go home and play. Now that I am a homeowner, it was nice to come home that night and see my lawn turned white-my roof as well. Nothing calms like snow. I’m such a penguin!
Penguinmas Eve turned out to be such a special day, but that would soon pale in comparison to my Penguinmas morn. This would leave me feeling like that Japanese emperor, and all of my fans were celebrating. I had so many calls, texts and greetings on social media, it took me over two hours to view and respond to them all.
Around my third birthday, possibly the year it snowed in Houston

It was the first time I’d seen this on such a grand scale. You see, I’m not very computer literate. For years, I have taken a few moments each day to wish friends a happy birthday on social media. Facebook is great at letting me know the day and rarely do I miss anyone’s big event. I’ve noticed in the past few years that I get far fewer greetings than I feel I deserve. I have invested a lot into celebrating friendmas’s, so I feel I’ve been on the short end of the stick with the comparatively few wishes I receive in return.

Recently, I was informed that my Facebook privacy settings were compromised, so I did some poking around. I found a box that was not clicked, something about displaying my birthday publicly. I clicked it. I have over 600 friends on Facebook who previously had not been getting the Penguinmas notification because that box had not been clicked. The flood gates were now opened. Of course, what resulted was me realizing that in the past, people had been recognizing my big day without being reminded by the big computers at Facebook central. This really made me feel special. I hadn’t been ignored the past few years, I was truly being honored by friends who knew of Penguinmas without the reminder.
Adding to the many emails of the day, a few years ago I figured out that most restaurants have birthday clubs, many of which present terrific birthday offers. Sometimes it’s a buy one get one free deal, which I had used for Penguinmas Eve. Other times it’s a free dessert with purchase. There are a few places that flat out give free food! I’ve always loved going to Denny’s on my birthday for my free breakfast. I normally do this alone, after all, who wants to go to Denny’s to celebrate a friend’s birthday? I say that every year, but as I’m sopping up honey with the fluffy pancakes, I’m always impressed at how good the meal is. I get a free BBQ sandwich from Dickey’s, a free slider from Zaxbies (they used to give a free combo meal), and Red Robin throws in a free burger with endless fries. I get so many deals, I don’t normally get to use them all.
Penguin and his mama

Eager to earn those holiday bucks, and milk my big day even further, I was ready to go to work and fly to Lima. When I got to work and checked my drop file, I found another Penguinmas miracle. I had recently attended the retirement celebrations of the 747 aircraft in Honolulu. I was sad to see her go and as an aviation enthusiast, I wanted to get my hands on the swag being offered. There were gift bags, special booklets and even commemorative pins to wear. Some of the swag was very difficult to get a hold of, so I had put out the word that I was seeking them. A flight attendant based in Hawaii found some swag, both relating to the 747 retirement, as well as from other aviation-related events. When I got to work, there was a large envelope full of neat little things, such as Mother Airline playing cards, pins, special aircraft engine coins and a lovely note. There was also a nice birthday card from my supervisor.

At the end of the day, I had extra cash in my wallet thanks to Penguinmas holiday pay, an inbox full of well wishes, a few great memories, some free meals, and I was in Lima, Peru. I joined some flying partners at the bar. It was past midnight, so Penguinmas was officially over, but the celebrations continued and I had a couple of drinks thanks to my crew. I may still organize a little celebration in the spring to be with my friends who live on the West Coast, but even if that slips past me, I had the kind of birthday I would be envious of. I’m glad it was mine, made special by the many people in my life who bring me joy. It really was a Penguinmas Miracle!

I feel like a king on my birthday

Being There: My Meeting with Shirley Maclaine

Penguin from seat 1A
I do love me some Vancouver layovers. It’s convenient that the hotel is walkable. The surrounding scenery is beautiful. The airport is modern and culturally relevant. The Canadian passengers are nice, almost like they’re from another, nicer country. Oh, wait…
With a seventeen-hour layover, I was able to get some writing done and sleep in. I left my room early enough to wander to the food court for a bite to eat before passing through customs and making my way down the terminal to the gate for my flight to Denver. This was day three of a four day trip, so I was a bit tired and sort of happy to be eating by myself. My flying partners met at the plane. They seemed rested and happy- chatty, as usual.
Boarding had begun and the overhead bins were getting quite full, even though there were a lot of empty seats. I was working up front, which would be full, so I closed a few of the overhead bins to save room for my first class passengers. Just as I returned to the forward galley, a man in uniform entered the plane carrying a large, bright red bag. It almost looked like a purse, with large handle straps and a zipper down the middle, but it was large enough that it actually had wheels on one end, and a telescoping handle, so one could pull it behind them with ease. Behind this man was an older woman with short hair and glasses. She smiled as she came on board and noticing the seat number on her boarding pass, moved into row one.
The man in the uniform looked at me for help with her bag. We don’t take bags and place them in overhead bins at Mother Airline, so I pointed to some of the bins I had just closed and he found space just behind the row of seats. In the meantime, the older woman looked at her ticket and saw that she had seat 1B and asked the man if she could move into the window seat instead. He again looked to me for guidance. He was simply the man lucky enough to be hired by the airport to assist certain passengers to the plane, and certainly had no authority to approve this request.
Before I could answer, my flying partner, Krysten, let the woman know that we could simply ask the person whose seat she was taking if they would switch with her. Normally, it’s not an issue, and I was quite fine with whatever situation made the most people happiest. The woman began to settle in and the uniformed man took his leave.
I leaned into Krysten, saying how much I thought the lady looked like Shirley Maclaine, but older. Krysten gave me a blank stare, not sure of who Shirley Maclaine was. “Wow,” I said, “you’re so young!”
“I’m not that young,” she replied, and gave me her age, which seemed older than I was expecting. Krysten seemed to figure the name out after I mentioned a few movies that have made her popular.
Returning to the cabin, I took pre-departure drink orders from a few passengers who had settled in, and the woman in 1A stopped to ask me where the movie screen was. “There used to be little screens,” she told me, “they would pop down and we could watch a movie. Where are they? Don’t you have entertainment?” As this was one of my pet peeves with Mother Airline, I almost felt like I was being baited.
The Vancouver Airport

After briefly going over Mother Airline’s decision to remove the screens in favor of passengers watching movies and shows streamed onto their own devices, I had to explain the process of how to download the Mother Airline app, so that once we were in the air, she could connect to the Wi-Fi and commence to be entertained for our two hour and twenty minute flight.

The problem is, I’m not tech savvy. I have a tech savvy friend in the Bay Area who used to help me with computer issues, often over the phone. He would endure my ignorance of computers and technology and spend what felt like hours upon hours assisting me. He would often lament, “That’s not possible! Your computer is doing things that should not be possible. How is that?” There would be a moment of silence from my end, followed by an, “Idontknow.” It’s the only answer I had to offer. He thought I must have some mystical powers to affect technical mischief. I half agreed.
So for this woman to be asking me to walk her through setting up her personal electronic device would be akin to asking the Pope for advice on positions in the Kama Sutra. Fortunately, the man behind her, in 2B, overheard and started giving pointers. I had a lot of things to do, since we were still boarding, so I excused myself. Krysten was still at the boarding door welcoming passengers, and after looking at the passenger manifest, informed me that the lady in 1A really WAS Shirley Maclaine. I could only roll my eyes and gasp, looking back to the actress peering through her glasses at her phone with the young man behind her trying to walk her through setting up the necessary app. But the smile on my face showed her how excited I was to be working in first class with such a talented actress as one of the passengers in my charge. Shirley freaking Maclaine! I’ve met a lot of people with name recognition, but for me, this was a thrill.
As luck would have it, the nice woman who was assigned to 1A took 1B without a word. And as luck would have it, she was tech savvy and was able to answer Ms. Maclaine’s questions. Ms. Maclaine realized that she had a larger tablet in her large, red bag, which might be more conducive to watching entertainment streamed from Mother Airline, and she looked up at me over her glasses. She was not demanding nor rude. She asked if I would be able to fetch her bag for her, so that she could retrieve her tablet, and pointed to where the man in uniform had stored it. I opened the bin and took her bag out, placing it near her feet. It was heavy and full, and felt like nice leather. She had a hard time reaching it, but Miss Benson helped out. Miss Benson helped out a lot during this flight. 
Miss Maclaine in her window seat
Ms. Maclaine got her app downloaded, asked for a water, ordered the chicken mac and cheese and then I asked what she’d like to drink. Her first reply was a Gimlet. I could see Miss Benson look at me, ready to gauge my reaction. When it was determined that no Gimlet would be served on board, her second choice was a Cosmo. Wrong again. Miss Benson seemed entertained and chuckled.
In thinking of a classy woman like Shirley Maclaine, who didn’t seem content with anything normal, it came to mind that we had Moscow Mule on board. I asked her about giving that a try. This seemed to please her, especially when I mentioned that no one ever asks for it. Sold! Moscow Mule it would be. Miss Benson thinking that sounded good, ordered one as well.
The time had come to close the aircraft door and soon we were hurtling across the skies of north America. In just over two hours we’d be in Denver, and Ms. Maclaine would catch another plane to her home in New Mexico. As I always do, I kept an eye on the passengers to anticipate any needs, and Ms. Maclaine often looked up at me. I guess I half expected her to just ignore me, as most passengers do. She appeared to be genuinely appreciative of my contribution to her travel experience. She would look up to regard me being attentive, smile and look back down at her device.
I was glad to see her actually watching a movie. It would have been exacerbating to find her reading a book or magazine after all the trouble we went through to set up her device. While checking on my flying partners in the aft galley, Krysten asked what she was watching, so when I returned to first class, I paused at row two so that I could find out. It was the 2017 version of Beauty and the Beast.
She thanked me with a smile when I served her Moscow Mule. She ate half of the nuts in the cocktail snack that I placed next to her. When dinner was served, she paused the movie, removed her headphones and engaged Miss Benson in conversation. How fortunate for Miss Benson, seated next to a legend, helping her with her tech issues and now having dinner with her. They even clinked glasses in giving cheers to one another with their drinks. One sip and Ms. Maclaine called me over to ask for a mini of vodka, saying it was too sweet. Miss Benson agreed, so I returned with 2 minis.
I added the mini and Ms. Maclaine winked. I replied, “Well, that’s just how I would drink it!” She raised her glass to me, still smiling. She was always smiling.
In flight entertainment
Mother Airline provided slices of turtle cheesecake on small white plates. I placed these on the silver lined tray to dispense to my passengers, but upon searching the galley, I could find no forks. I would have to pass dessert out right away, before picking up the trays, so people could use their dinner forks for dessert. Not the classy manner in which I would have chosen to present this service, but sometimes you have to work with what you have at thirty-six thousand feet. Ms. Maclaine was finished eating; she ate rather quickly. She asked if I could take her tray. I asked if she would like cheesecake, and she did. I suggested that she keep the fork, as I had no more to pass out. She took only a few bites, handing it back to me, apologizing that she had found it too sweet for her taste. I told her I’d not judge.
When Miss Benson was finished eating, Ms. Maclaine went back to her movie. She refused another drink, asking only for a glass of water with ice. I was humbled by how human Ms. Maclaine was. To have paused her movie to engage Miss Benson, her always smiling and constant acknowledgment of me and my efforts…she was nicer than most passengers, yet here she was, nearly a household name.
I badly wanted a photo with her, and had hoped she would drink more, knowing that when she got up to use the lavatory would be the perfect time to use my charm to compliment her talents and request a selfie. The opportunity would have to wait, however, until the captain turned on the seat belt sign for landing, which she took as her cue to get up and quickly tend to business. When she came out of the lav, I told her how much I appreciated her body of work, saying that I was a huge fan, and asked if I could take a selfie. She was most accommodating. She got back in her seat, seemingly quite conscious of the fact that the seat belt sign was on, and I invited Miss Benson to join in.
While kneeling down next to them I told Ms. Maclaine how I had met Matthew McConaughey only a few months prior, and the week before meeting him, I had watched the movie, “Bernie,” in which they had both starred. She exclaimed how much she loved making that movie, telling me how fun it had been to work with the locals. I gushed at how much I loved the movie and had found the performances by all the actors to have been so engaging.
The selfie with Miss Benson and Shirley Maclaine

For several minutes, I was able to chat with her about something other than my lack of technology sense, and in bringing up the Harvey Weinstein sex scandal, she had nothing positive to say about his character, which Miss Benson found intriguing. She thanked me again for assisting her so well during boarding and taking good care of her in flight. She told me that she was about to meet the director of the movie she had been watching, but had not seen it, and felt that it was important to do so before meeting with him. She said that the role of the teapot had been written with her in mind, and that they had hoped she would voice it and sing the songs, but she had to pass it up. She rolled her eyes as she said this. I complimented her in saying that she would make a great teapot! In response, she said, “You would make a great teapot!”

I took this at first as a compliment and Miss Benson laughed a bit. But I’m not sure. Was it?
If Shirley Maclaine thinks I could pull off portraying the teapot, I’m willing. Have your people call my people. I can fly to LA first thing and be in the studio tomorrow! (I’ve always wished I could do voice work, after all, I’ve already fulfilled my desire to be a professional actor. I’d love to do some acting again.)
We landed in Denver safe and sound. If I had a dollar for every time I’ve landed in Denver, I could buy a very nice teapot complete with matching cups and the tea to put in them. The passengers began to deplane and Ms. Maclaine was not yet ready. She was still gathering her belongings. She placed the Mother Airlines headphones she had used in the seat back pocket, telling me she had done so, as if I had to account for them. I joked with her that she could keep them as a souvenir. Miss Benson again assisted her and I noticed quite a few passengers craning their neck as they left to catch a glimpse of the actress in 1A. I guess they had noticed her, as I had done.
From the movie “Being There”
She thanked me again, taking my hand in hers as she did so. I moved her bag out of her way and placed in such a way as to make it easy for her to grab the handle. And with that, she was gone.
All five of us working the flight were excited to have her on our flight to Denver. I shared the photos I had taken with the pilots and we then ran into the nice young man from seat 2B, who had helped us before leaving Vancouver.
“I know I recognize her,” he said, “but what was her name?” He couldn’t believe he couldn’t think it when I told him. He was star struck and happy he had the chance to help her out. It was then that I had an a-ha moment, and I was so disappointed in myself for forgetting. One of my all time favorite movies is “Being There,” with Peter Sellers, and she starred in that movie. I wish I had remembered this, so I could let her know, but there are so many wonderful roles Shirley Maclaine has taken on. I was lucky to have met one of the best. (And she was lucky to have been served by one of the best!) Perhaps it was destiny. Perhaps we’d met in a previous life. Perhaps we’ll meet in the next!

Shopping on Lordag

Hot Texas skies over the IKEA parking lot

 

Such a day I had today. First was a family lunch to celebrate a 65th wedding anniversary. Afterwards, since I was in that part of town, I went to IKEA. I’ve always thought it interesting how in the cities where there is an IKEA, there is but one. The Bay Area had two, but they were in two different worlds, because the bay seems just seems to be as such. So in Houston, now that I live far north of the loop, it’s a big deal to get there, so I took advantage, against my better judgment of doing so on a Saturday, of being inside the loop to do some shopping.

It’s been over twenty years since I lived in Houston, so when going back to those old parts of town I’ve mostly forgotten about, I now use my car’s navigation. I told my car I was wanting to go to IKEA. My car gave me the directions to IKEA, but I guess my car had no further information, which was a shame. I mean, she tells me about traffic and which roads are closed, why can’t she give me some really useful information, like “You’re about to make a big mistake…are you sure you don’t want to just go home?” I pulled into the IKEA parking lot and quickly began to wonder what it was that they were giving away for free.

Everyone was at IKEA. If you were not at IKEA, where the hell were you? Nothing was being given away for free, but as I was buying a “Malm” dresser (Malm having a definition as being an artificial mixture of chalk and clay for making into bricks, which didn’t seem to have anything to do with the product I purchased, but they do have some weird names in there) I did learn that everything in the store was 15% off because of Hurricane Harvey. Nice.

An old photo of the Astrodome and its huge parking lot.

IKEA has a very large parking lot. I think the only Houston parking lot I’ve ever seen that is larger was the one at the Astrodome. One would go to the Astrodome for an Astro’s ball game, or the Houston Rodeo, or a few times I saw big concerts there, like Pink Floyd and The Rolling Stones. It would take half an hour to walk from the car to the entrance. It was a very large parking lot.

This was IKEA on a Saturday with a 15% post hurricane sale. Every space was taken. It was to the point that I got behind a car that was slowly trailing a young man with his flat-bed cart to his car. This flat-bed cart was filled to the brim. There really was no brim, but that’s the saying that comes to mind in seeing how full this man’s cart was with boxes, crates, bags and all sorts of nifty things from Sweden, or where ever they make Turd Berglin toilets, Fartful desks, Godis Skum marshmallows, or Stenklover bedsheets. (Those are all actual product names, I’m not making them up!) I mean, I saw trucks loaded with this much stuff when I was in India a few years back, and I was always scared that they would fall over onto us as we would pass them.

So I’m behind Mr. Dood in his big black Texas branded pickup, who is trailing this poor guy who is seemingly furnishing his entire house from IKEA, and thinking, dude, it’s going to take this guy another hour to shove all this crap into his compact car. Because that’s the kind of luck I would have, that he is driving a compact car. Finally, I get around Mr. Dood and find a parking space five spaces from San Antonio! I looked back towards IKEA, now a distant blue speck wavering in the heat of the parking lot. I felt like a kid again, off to the Astrodome, but instead of bull riding and pig races, I was surrounded by what, in many ways, seemed to be the same kind of animals, just not as much riding or racing going on.

With my purchases complete, I started back to my car at the far end of the west forty. It may have been the first full day of Autumn, but no one told Houston. It was broiling outside, and the sweat was now starting to soak my shirt. I was fading fast, but soon had entertainment. In front of me was a couple looking proud of the wares they were about to take home. The husband must have been bright enough to leave the shopping to his wife, while he sat upstairs eating Kottbullar (Swedish meatballs) and Knackerbrod Rag (cookies), because he was looking over the items for the first time. She had two large boxes on the bottom of her cart and he asked why she bought two.

“They were 15% off,” she gushed, “so together, I got 30% off!”

I nearly choked, but no one seemed to notice.

He caught on pretty quickly and responded with “Well, don’t you think we should go back and get four more and get 90% off?”

She stopped dead in her tracks, “Can we do that?”

“I don’t think it works that way, dear. I’ll explain it to you later.”

They reached their car long before I did, and wouldn’t you know that they had a Trump bumper sticker!

Again, taking advantage of being in this part of town, I decided to do another stupid thing. Costco on a Saturday. I could have just as easily walked into a biker bar and made an off-hand remark about Tankwelder’s mom, for I must have been out for punishment. One of the things I love most about my job is having weekdays off for such adventures as shopping at a Costco. I learned quickly to avoid this place on weekends like a cat avoids hairballs on a hard surface and instead makes sure to aim for the carpet. But the store near me was out of the candles they had advertised on sale and I knew the one on Bunker Hill had them.

Some funny IKEA names I found on line.

If you know Costco, like IKEA, you know that parking can be troublesome. I usually just aim for the far away spots and forgo the slow search up down the rows of shiny cars. As I got closer to the entrance, I kept seeing parking spaces closer and closer to the entrance. I wound up with rock star parking, space number one. Any closer and I would have been in the handicap spaces, of which in this row, there were only two. I couldn’t believe this prime score!

The walk to the entrance was now short, which sort of made up for the long journey to and from my car at IKEA. Then my heart sank as I saw the door to the entrance had been rolled shut. It’s funny, I never before realized that the entrance doors at Costco were really garage doors that rolled up and down. There, before me, was a large sign with red letters stating that Costco, on Saturdays, closes at 6pm. I looked at my watch. It was 6:14pm. No wonder I got such a close parking space.

I could see inside the exit door. There were still quite a few checkers working down the long lines of shoppers. There were still people meandering back and forth with their oversized shopping carts of such items at twenty-pound boxes of peanuts and bags of five loaves of bread. Emboldened, I meekly approached the two employees checking receipts and gave them my most tired-looking and yet pleasing smile that I could muster.

“I know you’re closed,” I said, nearly water-eyed, “but I just drove all the way from the North Houston Costco because they were out of the LED candles you have advertised, and they sent me here because you have them in inventory on the computer system.” (I’m not above innocent white lies to Costco employees fourteen minutes after closing.) “That’s the only thing I need to buy,” I continued, “could you let me in real quick, and I promise, that’s all I’m buying.”

Underpowered, they had to call for a supervisor’s approval. I repeated my story and he gladly let me in, showing me the way to the location of the candles in the huge warehouse. I was so glad they actually had them, because it was actually three days ago that I was at the North Houston location when I learned that they had sold out. I was told that the Bunker Hill store had over one hundred of them. All right, so I fibbed twice.

Closed entrance door to a Costco (not my image).

A mocha freeze

I’d spent nearly two hours in IKEA and felt like I had walked half way across Houston to do so. I was hot, sweaty and tired and I looked up on the wall across from the register for which I was in line and saw an image. Like a most wondrous mirage to one trapped for days in the desert, was an icy mocha freeze. It was only $1.45. It looked so cold and frosty, with a hint of chocolate. I think I would have paid $5 for it! It was just what I needed to cool me down on this first day of autumn, also known as the 216th day of Texas summer. There was still a line, so they were still open. So sue me, I lied a third time and wound up buying more than just the candles, but it was one of the best iced mochas of all time.

On the drive home I was treated to a fantastic sunset, complete with silver lined clouds and orange hues. There was no traffic until I got to my exit, which made me smile that I was avoiding it by such a close margin. It was a successful shopping trip. I found some needed items for my home, got some exercise, sweat like I was in a sauna, was entertained by a dim-witted woman who thought she got 30% off because she bought two items instead of one, and talked my way into a super-sized box store after closing. I’m in a good mood right now. Just wait until I start putting together my Malm dresser! Anyone want to come lend a hand?

Two weeks at sea on the Star Legend

Cruise blog

I was so happy that my vacation-bound flight was leaving near midnight so I wouldn’t have to be up early morning and scrambling to get everything done. It had been a nice relaxing day. I finished laundry and then packed, ran an errand and ate lunch out. I even cleaned house so the neighbor watching my cats wouldn’t think I live like a pig.
Most importantly, though, I wanted some quality time with the cats before leaving for my two week cruise across the Atlantic. So as I finally drove to the airport, I was calm and relaxed, looking forward to leaving the stresses behind, and with my bedroom flooding from the Texas rains the previous week, I had a lot of stresses to leave behind.
As I neared the airport, I noted the heavy traffic in the opposite direction and was happy not to be a part of that. I said aloud in the privacy of my car, “You people should be home, it’s late. Or out at a party. Get off the roads!”
My exit was next- a plane flew overhead. Something made me want to check for my phone…not in my pocket. All right, check the console. Not there! Another check of pockets. No phone. I had freaking left my phone at home. I was leaving the country. I HAD to have it. Fish sticks!
Fortunately, I’d left early and I had time to go back home. It would take 40 minutes for me to get back to this point in the journey. After waiting for what seemed to be the longest light in history to make my U-turn, I remembered that traffic going back and decided it would be best to take the back roads, hoping this was not the night to show off my new car to any police officers.
With my phone now happily with me, I took my seat in 7F of a 737, happy to have a window to lie against on the four hour flight to San Juan. I ate a salad and engaged the flight attendant in conversation. I even managed to sleep for what must have been about two hours.
San Juan

My last two working trips had been to San Juan, so I was familiar with the airport. I had a plan; grab one of those really good omelet sandwiches from the restaurant upstairs, and call for a van to the pier. I’d not be able to board the ship until 1pm, but I knew I could leave my bag early and go off to explore. Then I ran into Ricky, a flight attendant from Houston who I know. He actually worked my flight, but I never looked to the rear of the plane to see who was working there. He had a day layover at the Sheraton near the piers, so I asked if I could catch a ride with him, and off we went.
This actually worked out well. It was questionable if the van company could actually take me, and Uber drivers are not allowed to pick passengers up at the airport. Now that I was just a few miles from the ship, I knew I could get Uber. After taking advantage of the crew breakfast discount at the hotel, that’s just what I did, arriving at Pier Uno just before 8am.

San Juan Airport
After dropping off my large bag, I found a nice park in which to sit. A large group of locals dressed in colorful garb approached full of smiles and good cheer. “Welcome to Puerto Rico!” they shouted, as they handed out balloons and bottles of water. Seems I’d encountered some sort of roving welcoming committee.
It was a gorgeous day, but it was starting to warm up and the humidity soon made it so that my back felt damper than I was comfortable with, so I took my leave of the park and the tables of locals playing chess and giving what appeared to be astrological readings, and I made my way to the neighboring Sheraton. (And no, I am not receiving money from Sheraton for product placements in this blog!)
Many people had the same plan of wasting time at this hotel. The fancy, old lobby was packed…some were coming off the ships in port and waiting to head to the airport. Others, like me, were waiting until time to board for their cruise vacations. We all enjoyed the free wifi and ability to charge our phones. I spent the next four hours meeting a family from Scotland, a couple from Central Texas, two ladies from Maryland and a group of friends traveling from California.
I was so anxious to get on board and it felt great when I finally was. I was so tired that I hoped to lie down in my suite for a bit of a nap, but first, I did want to unpack my huge suitcase. I hung up my shirts. I grabbed my tees and shorts and placed them in a drawer. My socks went into a smaller drawer and underwear in a drawer below my socks. I soon was looking at an empty suitcase. Pants. Where were my pants? Hanging in the closet were my shirts, but where were the pants! I panicked.
Had I forgotten to pack slacks? I remember distinctly picking them out, not wanting too many of the same color. How could I have forgotten to pack them? Where could I go in town to buy new ones? I didn’t need to buy new ones, as I have plenty at home, but I couldn’t wear the same pair every night on a two-week cruise!
Suddenly I realized the shorts I had placed in the drawer seemed like more shorts than I recalled packing. Pulling the drawer open, I was delighted to see that I had blindly placed my folded pants there. I laughed out loud as I placed them on hangers. I pack for a living- I’d like to think I’d not forget to pack pants!
I did lie down and maybe 20 minutes after falling asleep came the muster drill, “Grab your life vest and report to your muster station,” said the captain over the PA. As I did so, I looked in the mirror to fix my hair, don’t want to make a bad first impression. I looked a hundred years old, pillow wrinkles on my cheek, red eyes, lifeless expression. Yay, me! Let’s go muster!

Me on the Legend in San Juan before sailaway
The rest of the afternoon was spent exploring the ship, meeting staff, taking photos of the ship and of other ships as they departed San Juan. Next to us was the Carnival Fascination. She was a very large party ship with water slides and disco lights emanating from within. I was happy to not be on that.
Soon, the Disney Magic sailed by. The moon rose, the sun set and it was our turn to slowly back away from the dock, turn around, and start up the propellers, which would not stop churning for 14 days. It was a wonderful night for a sail away.
Day2 Sleeping in on Vacation

When I first came to life, it was as I was rolled over in my sleep as we hit a wave. The room was dark, but I looked towards the window. Inside voice told me that it was probably around 8am. Bladder said, “Let’s get up,” so I obeyed. I looked at the clock and called it a liar. No way was it really just after 11am. I went to bed around 1230am. I asked my phone for the time, and she agreed with the clock. I had slept nearly 11 hours. ELEVEN HOURS!!! (I told you I needed a vacation!)
Looking up the main staircase on board

Now I know the body does not recoup lost sleep time. There really is no such thing as making up for lost sleep, but I would suppose that with the stresses of life in the week leading up to this vacation, the lack of sleep the night prior, the excitement of being at sea after a two-year absence, and the smooth rocking of the vessel traveling about 10 knots made for my body to find comfort in slumber for nearly 11 hours.

Lunch was moved from the aft outside deck to the main restaurant midships, due to wind, so I broke my fast with round from the salad bar followed by a thin breast of chicken with vegetables.
I was able to accomplish some writing, and then spent 45 minutes in the gym before getting ready for the evening, which began with a champagne reception to meet the captain and his staff.
The captain looked like he could easily win a prize at a Curley Howard, Three Stooges contest. His thick Scottish accent over the PA made it sound as if he were speaking with marbles in his mouth. His voice actually pretty much matched his appearance. He was slightly rotund, which he admitted is something his wife admonishes him for, so he asked that we eat all that we could to leave less for him.
Penguin on the bridge

His humor kept me smiling during his entire presentation, and I wondered if he had someone to write his comedy routine, or if it all came natural. He spoke of keeping his hotel director drugged to keep him smiling for his final two weeks of his current contract, of how the medical doctor appeared to be 15, but he did check his resume and it checked out. He was also the only person on board who was asked not to work at all, because if he was working, it meant there were people not feeling well, and that was the last thing he wanted on board his ship.

After a fantastic dinner of beef wellington followed by dessert (both a wonderful lime tart piled high with a fluffy meringue as well as a peanut butter crème brulee- I just had to try them both) I later found myself at the forward bar, where I had a nice conversation with the captain and Katie, the spa manager. Turns out, Katie did write the captains jokes, but he tried to convince me that he is funny and says something different for each cruise, so if I were to sail with him again, even if it were the very next sailing, I would hear different jokes.
As I do with any cruise, I ended my night with live music. This ship has two duos. When one took a break, I’d off to the other bar to hear the other duo. I left the forward bar when they went on break and went to the aft bar. After one song, they too went on break. I laughed, and after Ryan, the pianist came over to say hello, I put in a request that the two duos better coordinate breaks. To make up for it, when their break ended, they played a special request for me…Don’t Stop, by Fleetwood Mac.
The ship vibrates with the rotating propeller. There is a wonderful sea breeze. There are no lights on the horizon. The clouds drift overhead illuminated from the top by a full moon that hangs lofty in the skies and tonight is kept company by Jupiter, who is within an inch away. The world is covered two-thirds by water. It’s times like these that I feel like I should be spending two-thirds of my time on it. I love being at sea.
Day 3: Day of the sleepies
The alarm was set for 8am so I could have breakfast and then attend a talk with one of the officers in the Yacht Club. We’d set the clocks ahead the night before, the first time of what would surely feel like 100 on this sailing, but I try to ignore the fact that I’m losing an hour and just go to bed at the time when the clock says it’s midnight, so I could get 8 hours. Body, for some reason, said, “Let’s wake up at 715am. That’ll be fun!”
With a large window in my cabin, I enjoyed sitting and watching the waves. We still had a pretty good roll on board, which we’d pretty much had since leaving San Juan. I had what I thought was a fairly good breakfast of an egg scramble, 2 pieces of bacon, one link sausage, a donut and a fruit smoothie. Of course, now that I’ve written it all out, I do understand a bit more why later, I felt queasy. That’s surely twice the amount of breakfast I normally eat!
It always happens when I’m sitting at the front of the ship when it’s rolling. I sat across from one of the officers who was answering all of our questions, and the rolling, the up and down, the constant vibration…I knew it was time for me to head downstairs. I took some ginger and it didn’t seem to do the trick, so I took a motion sickness pill they distribute on board. I was tired, so I lay down on my bed. Ninety minutes later I was up. The good news is that, normally, once I feel queasy, that’s it for the rest of the trip.
Penguin inspecting a knot

Not feeling hungry, but still feeling tired, I went for my daily work out in the gym. Then I had a quick dip in the pool followed by time on the bridge learning how to make knots. Well, I wasn’t learning them, but observed the others try to learn them. I was intrigued by the woman who was adamant about wanting to do them along with the various instructors, as if she was going to retain all of the knowledge, and upon returning home after this cruise, would be making knots on a regular basis… “Glad you could stop by, here, let me make a monkey’s knuckle knot I learned on a cruise while my husband fixes you a drink.”

I spoke to a woman I’d met on day one about writing, and then actually did a little bit of writing, and then I sat on the couch in my suite. I awoke an hour later when it was time to get ready for dinner. Two naps!
As is my custom on these cruises, I enjoyed a pre dinner drink while listening to one of the duos perform. I miss the classical music they play on Holland America, but I’m really enjoying this small ship, which, with 131 passengers, is only slightly over half of capacity.
There are no lines. Normally, you’d see tea on the daily and expect to arrive for said tea at the published time along with 50 others and have to wait three minutes to be seated. Today’s tea was from 3-5. I walked in at 301 and there were about 8 people in the room. Nice.
Then another night of airline talk. Last night it was the couple who’s daughter is based in ORD, tonight I dined with a couple who were interliners, he retired after over 30 years working heavy maintenance at the SFO facility. He did confess later in the night that he was reticent to discuss airlines, knowing that I must get tired of it. I informed him that as long as he’s not complaining about Mother Airline, I’m OK.
Day 4: Game Day
My alarm went off too soon and it wasn’t even one of the days we changed our clock. I was so tired that I laid in bed for nearly another half hour. Then I heard the room steward next door and suddenly realized that I’d not placed my do not disturb sign out, so I popped up and got ready for the day.
Plan A was to join the galley tour. I’ve seen ship galleys many times, and I used to work in large kitchens, but it’s always fun to see them. I wasn’t smart enough to come up with plan B, so upon learning that the tour had filled up and that I was now on the list for the next one to be scheduled in a few days, I found myself at breakfast without a real plan.
Before I knew it, I was playing trivia with the various teams in the Yacht Club. My team wasn’t doing so well, the questions were quite difficult, (what is an oologist, or how am I supposed to know the technical term for a tightrope walker, or the name of any disease that can jump from animal to human?) but we wound up tied for second place, even with our paltry four correct answers. The team whose sheet we graded got seven correct. I’m not sure how they cheated, but I’m going to find out!
Each day, in the dailies, is a photo of an obscure object. Identify the object and its location and enter it at the front desk. I have no idea what the prize is, but I knew the first two days without issue. I couldn’t find the third, so one of my new on board friends and I went searching for the day’s photo. I had a few ideas of where to search, but wanted to ask the front desk about the possibility of one of the locations I had in mind, but it was closed off to this cruise because the water deck would not be in use. We were told that is one of two areas used on board for athletic activity. I knew instantly the location of the photo, so off we went to the spa to find it.
I have worked out each day, so far, and had I been more observant, I may have realized that the 35 pound free weight was the answer.
Scott and Jennifer are a fun couple I’ve met on board. As it turns out, they live about five miles from my home! They love to play games and one of the games they have on board is my favorite- Balderdash. We had lunch together and spent the next three hours playing that and a few other games. My father and his third wife used to play backgammon all the time, but he had never taught me to play. I finally learned, and discovered that I really don’t think I like it that much.
Diane teaches me Rummikub. Love my face!

 Next, we played Rummikub, a tile based game much like rummy. I’d never played, so our friend Diane had me sit next to her and she taught me. I caught on really quick and enjoyed getting to spend more time with Diane. She and her husband, Ernesto, live in California. He’s from Santiago, so we got to talk about how much I love going to Chile, and what a great city Santiago is. Diane and Ernesto have become one of my favorite couples on this cruise.

Games were fun and I met a few new people. I got no writing done today, but I’m fine with that. This is a vacation, after all and I want to allow myself to do what ever my body or mind decides to do. Sleep 11 hours? OK. Two naps in a day. I’m fine with that. Laughing with new friends? I’m game!
The ship hit some gray clouds and we spent all afternoon cruising through rain. Tonight was supposed to be the on deck BBQ, an event Windstar is known for. Due to the weather, it was moved downstairs to the Amphora dining room. It was a grand buffet, with a suckling pig, sliced steak, lobster tails, shrimp, ribs, paella, a huge salad bar, and a table with about a dozen desserts. One thing I’ve impressed myself with…so far… is that on this cruise, I’ve not been eating as much as in past cruises. I did have five lobster tails (which they cut in half, so really, I had 2.5), and I did taste just about everything, but just very small portions.
Tomorrow is a fairly light day. I’d like to write more, will get another workout in, and there is a treasure hunt that I’d like to partake in. We changed our clocks an hour ahead tonight, so I’m sure I’ll sleep in a bit and just sort of meander through my day- allowing myself to do what ever I feel. Everything is up to chance.
Day 5: Cinco de Cruise
Yet another day where I was able to sleep in up until the time where bladder says it’s time to get up. I think bladder is on vacation, too. Is it the rolling of the ship or the salty air that makes bladder seem smaller?
Interestingly enough, however, when I went to my phone to turn off the alarm, so that I could lounge in bed for another half hour, or so, there were only three seconds until the alarm was to sound. Good timing, bladder!
After a light breakfast of oatmeal and a danish, I returned to my room to get some writing done. I almost felt badly that I’d not written at all yesterday, but this is vacation and I have no real agenda other than rest, relaxation and fun. So far…mission accomplished.
Writing became difficult when the captain came on the loud PA to announce that a fire drill was about to commence. He told us that it was a drill, but soon was announcing for passengers to grab their life vests and proceed to their muster stations, making sure not to trip on the straps, and to keep to the right of hallways and stairwells. It felt awfully real, and I know certain people who sleep in until later than 1030, and feared that a few people may not realize that it was a drill.

Crew fire drill
As part of the drill, there was a fire reported in the crew laundry room. Fire team one was to fight the fire, while fire team two was to begin to search for four missing persons. Soon, it was announced that the fire was out and no hot spots were found. Three of the missing persons had been found, but passengers were to remain in their muster stations. I kept happily in my suite watching the wonderfully blue waters slide by my window.
Next, it was announced that all four missing persons were found, but the fire had returned and spread to another deck, so it was now time to load passengers and crew into life boats. He then stated, “Abandon ship. Abandon ship. Abandon ship. It felt awfully real. I now what it sounds like to hear that, and I think that’s a good thing. I still felt terribly sorry for those who were unsure that it was drill. I half wanted to peek out into the hallway to see if anyone fell for it, but I didn’t want to look as if I was checking to see if it was real, so I again kept to my cabin.
For the first time since leaving San Juan, the aft lunch area was open. It’s been closed due to weather. I ate there before we left, and it was so windy that lettuce was flying off of my plate! It seemed like a silly place to put a lunch venue before I boarded, and it seems more so now. I suppose when the ship is anchored off of an island, as it often is, that it’s better suited for dining out than it is when traveling at 10.8 knots in the middle of the Atlantic. I still think it would be better suited for the pool that was removed to make more seating room. Seating room I’ve yet to see utilized.
Team Awesome racks up points for the treasure hunt.

After lunch, I returned for more writing. At 3 was a treasure hunt. I joined Scott and Jennifer along with Joy and the youngest person on board, Mark, an 11 year old from Berlin. We came in first. Our prize was a bottle of wine and a 50 minute massage. The only reason I did the damned thing was that I’d heard the prize was a massage, but I assumed everyone on the team would get one. We only got the one.

The boy couldn’t drink, so they allowed him to mix his own virgin drink at the bar. He seemed quite happy. Joy and I decided neither of us wanted the bottle of wine, so Jennifer and Scott took that. That left the 50 minute massage for Joy and I to share. I tried to barter for the whole 50 minutes with the $50 spa gift certificate I had won on day 1. She would have gone for it had it been for the bar and not the spa. She declined my offer, saying for her half of the massage, she wanted it to be the top half. She’s so funny!
I asked if I could combine my half massage with the $50. When Katie said yes, I found that I could live with that, as I’m sure they will allow me to bump up to the 50 minute massage with both.
I had another great gym day, followed by a nice soak in the pool. It’s at this stage of the voyage that I find myself finding my routine. It’s too soon to be ready to get off. I know the ship and a great deal of people. I can’t go anywhere and not wave across the room at this person or that. Jack stopped me to tell me to sign up for the engine room tour. Chris helped me find the photo of the day quiz. There is Bill, here is David and Jackie. Nancy waved and Stu was at the Star Bar. It’s a new little family.
After pool time, I encountered an older man with coke bottles for glasses. We were talking with the bar tender about food and he made a negative comment. I was confused, and asked if meant the food was bad, or the selection. He made a face and gave a big thumbs down. I told him we must be on different cruises, as I keep waiting to have a disappointing meal, and have yet to be let down. The lasagna was fantastic. The oysters were magical (so much so that I had 2 orders). From soups to crab cakes, from shrimp to steak, it’s all been so fantastic. Go away grumpy old man. No? OK, see ya…and I was gone.
Before dinner, I was seeking out hors d’ovres and found myself in the Compass Rose bar. Seated there was a man who appeared to be my age next to a woman who was much older. They seemed close and invited me to join them. This was Kevin and Renee. They’d met years ago on another voyage and had kept in touch. Kevin had booked three days before sailing and neither of them knew the other was going to be on board. Imagine their surprise!
Turns out Kevin was 11 years older than I. He was hilarious and kept everyone laughing. Joy joined us and the two of them started telling tall tales. When asked where Joy was from, she said she was in the witness protection program. It just steamrolled from there and we all laughed. I mentioned that I had been wishing there were comedians on board…I’d just not met the right people.
Wearing Kevin’s Cardinal’s ring.

It was difficult to miss the huge diamond-studded ring Kevin was wearing. I’m not a sports fan, but I knew it was a championship ring. When asked, he freely took it off to let me admire it. His partner was the team’s doctor, so when they won the world series, he got a ring, as well. And when they won a second, he had it sized for Kevin to wear.

I wound up dining with Kevin and Renee and had a wonderful meal. They have nick names for many guests, such as the couple who never smile, they call Sady and Grumpy. I asked what they called me, but since they had just discovered me, they decided on Penny, after hearing of my penguinish name.
Many people had been looking forward to Karaoke tonight. My dinner started half an hour later than expected, so I wandered into the Compass Rose half an hour after karaoke began. I could hear my name uttered from all corners of the room. It reminded me of the Bugs Bunny cartoon when Leopold enters the band shell to conduct the orchestra, and everyone begins to mutter, “Leopold…Leopold…it’s Leopold!”
I found Jennifer and she handed me the list of songs and the small piece of paper on which to write my song selections…as if to say I had no choice but to sing. “It’s been the Stu and Ed show so far,” she said. “They’re the only ones who have sung.”
I found Dreams and put in my request. I was well received and felt good, so I put in Every Breath you Take. I did OK, but had a hard time with the key and had to change a few times. Ugh!
Next I sang Raspberry Beret, by Prince, but failed to realize that I mainly only know the chorus, so for much of the verses I failed, but I was able to hide it fairly well. The crowd loved my enthusiasm. Stu and Ed had been much more rehearsed and people seemed to be tired of hearing from the two of them. Ed definitely does a lot of karaoke. Everyone just seemed to be happy to hear from someone else.

Penguin singing a Stevie Nicks song
Seeing me be brave enough to sing brought others to the stage. I was glad to know that I was not the worst of the singers that night. Feeling yet again encouraged, I next sang Day-O and messed it up fairly well, but again, had such a good time and bantered on the mic with the crowd, they didn’t seem to care. I then found Stop Dragging my Heart Around listed under Petty Nicks, and not Stevie. I killed it! They even applauded me mid song! Finally, I was talked into joining Michelle from Florida (the knot maker) for the male part to Summer Nights from Grease. Killed it again.
But wait, there’s more. Stu began to sing Imagine. I couldn’t help but run up and grab the second mic to join him. I thought we sounded great together and it was much fun. That is how the night ended in the Compass Rose.
Tomorrow is Friday, the day Mom goes into the hospital in Denver for a biopsy of her lung for possible cancer. I’ve been thinking of her a lot and happened to mention it to Janet as we left the room. We spoke for a while and she told me that she would send good energy and keep Mom in her thoughts for tomorrow. I greatly appreciated hearing that. I’m happy I’ve made some really good friends on board. I’m not sure I’ll be able to keep in touch with many of them, unlike how I did after my sailing on the Spirit. But for these 14 days, I have some really fun people surrounding me.
Day 6: No Time
Each day they post a photo in the daily for the “What is it – Where is it game”. They post a small, cropped photo and those of us crazy enough to play, go from place to place looking for it. Some are hard, some easy. I found today’s before I went to bed last night. It was the 12 from the clock at the Star Bar.
I ran into one of the fellow game players who I work with in finding the photo item each day. She asked if I knew today’s photo, and I asked if she wanted a clue or to be told. When asked for a clue, I told her I had no time to give it to her. She knew what I meant, and I gave her the hot/cold for a clue as to where she could find it.
Chef Klaus in the galley.

I then went to tour of the galley with Master Chef, Klaus. It was a nice and clean galley and we got a great tour of the stations and stories of how menus are created, how food is ordered and stored, how inspections work, what happens with leftovers and more. (Some are given to crew and the rest are ground, dried and fed to the fish in the sea.)

This tour had me eating lunch a little later than normal, at nearly 1230 instead of noon. When it was 1pm, I then recalled that I had scheduled a foot imprint session at 1230. Oh, well, I’m sure I’m not the first guest to miss an appointment. Katie was gracious and we’ll try again tomorrow for 10am.
I spent nearly and hour on the bridge today. It was fun talking and joking with Lucy and a few of the others, Hammish, Toni and Adam. I see them frequently. It’s amazing to me that often there is only one person on the bridge, and often they are doing paperwork, looking at a chart, drinking tea, talking to passengers…there isn’t nearly as much looking out for things as I would have expected.
Of course the ship runs itself, and I’m told whales are run off by the sound of the ship approaching. Other ships will show up on the radar, but the ship and its instruments do not warn humans of other traffic in the way, like aircraft do. So they do have to look for ships, but I guess at the current rate of speed, they can easily see it and make heading corrections to avoid any possible impacts. It’s a great policy that Windstar allows passengers to hang out on the bridge just about any time they like.
It was a lazy day. The above, a nap, a good workout and time in the sauna followed by a dip in both the pool and Jacuzzi. I had happy hour with a few funny friends, and for dinner, I went to Candles. I was told it was full, but after saying it was only me, they said they could accommodate me, and I assumed they would do so at a table with others. I showed up and they had a table for one. I had just finished telling friends at happy hour that I was fine dining alone. I get tired of telling my life story every time I dine with new passengers.
My dinner at Candles at sunset

Candles is the specialty restaurant on board. Its view is aft. Had I been slightly earlier than 745pm, and had the sky not been mostly overcast, I would have had a great view of sunset. The service was fantastic and the food phenomenal. My chosen appetizer was shrimp wrapped in prosciutto in a shot glass of vodka cocktail sauce. There were two. For the main, I had a filet mignon that was perfectly pink for how I like it. My sides were creamed mushrooms with leek, and broccolini. Each bite brought the little happy food dance that makes my foot tap, my leg sway, my eyes roll and my voice to make a little yummy sound. The steak was like butter, with a wonderful Bernaise sauce. It was on par with some of the best steak restaurants I’ve ever dined in. And for dessert was a crème brulee, that was pretty good. I was stuffed.

This, as most crossings I’ve done, is not a sailing that is known for its nightlife. Not in just what is provided, but in the amount of people who stay up late. I’m amazed at the people who stay up until two…three…four minutes after 9pm!
There was a game show in the Compass Star after dinner with a panel of cruise staff, including the Captain, about telling the truth where definitions of odd words are concerned. The duo started their tunes right away, but within 10 minutes, the crowded room held only about a dozen people. I keep wishing for a little more to do at nights, but I have a feeling it would only be me and very few others taking part in them.
The cruise is about half over now. I’m really enjoying it. It may be one of the best cruises I’ve taken, and I know I have said that after previous cruises. I just keep raising the bar in what I’m experiencing. I love my Holland America Cruises, and this ship is very much like a smaller version of HAL- fresh flowers, linen to dry your hands in the lavatories, friendly, attentive staff, quality food (I keep waiting for a bad meal, but have yet to have one) and great amenities. I would have no issues choosing another cruise with Windstar, and certainly would do so on a crossing, but then again, I don’t need all the activities of a larger ship.

Penguin, Diane and Captain Reville
Day 7: The Spa
I’ve been very good about going to exercise every day so far. The on board gym is very small, with only five cardio machines and a few weight machines. I’ve never been into using free weights, even when I lifted weights in college, but there is a rack of nice ones on board. Katie tells me the 20 pound weight has gone missing. I told her I didn’t take it…I can barely lift it, let alone carry it to my suite!
Today, in the spa, I had an appointment to have my footprint analyzed. I don’t know what made me think it was going to lead to vital information about my feet, their structure or my posture. It was, of course, just a ploy to have me purchase plastic inserts for my shoes. The handsome young man from South Africa got to the part about how much less they are to purchase on board than on land, and I changed the topic. “So, how long have you been on this ship? What did you do before? Which do you prefer, the land job or the sea? Yeah, I know what you mean about loving to travel, and why not do it and get paid? Well, I’m going to get on the treadmill before someone else beats me to it, see you in a bit.”
While in the gym working out, I heard him come on the PA, “Attention all crew, bright star…bright star…bright star. Deck seven spa. I repeat, bright star…bright star…bright star. Deck seven spa.” Having sailed on other cruise lines, I knew this was a medical emergency. I went into work mode and walked down the hall to see if I could be of assistance. The captain was the first person to arrive, and asked that the spa be shut down to move people out of the way. Within seconds there were at least a dozen crew members on hand, including the ship’s doctor.
Later I found out that Tom had passed out in the sauna. He was out for about thirty seconds. Eventually, he was wheeled past me and was alert and looking great. Soon, the rumor game was in full swing and passengers were saying things like, “I hear his heart stopped,” and “He was air-lifted off the ship after a heart attack.” I should really start some good rumors next time I sail.
The spa had a special today in the sauna, which may have been the reason he was there in the first place. Free of charge, one could try a mud mask to use while relaxing in the steam room or sauna. I’ll give anything a try if it’s free. It had a wonderful peppermint scent and was sort of fun to put on. Afterwards, my skin was silky-smooth!
After lunch I did some writing and took a nap, standard stuff. I then got in the Jacuzzi, and ran into Scott. He asked if I had worked out and I was about to ask if he had gotten the mask. He told me that he’d used the rest room in the spa earlier and was asked as he entered if he would like a mask. He wondered what was wrong with the restroom that he might need a mask. Did it stink? He had no idea why he would be asked about needing a mask. We laughed so hard.
Engine control room
For years, I’ve always wanted to see a ship’s engine room. Finally, today, I was given a tour. Down some stairs, around a few corners, through a large room with huge, loud, hot engines, we reached the heart of the ship- the engine control room. It was much like where Homer Simpson works at the nuclear factory. A large bay-shaped console with buttons, needles, gauges, monitors, sensors, phones, diagrams, and an alarmingly great number of depictions of Jesus guiding sailors. It was almost like being in church. We were allowed to take photos and they answered all of our questions. It was terribly fascinating and such a terrific experience.
Dinner was wonderful, as usual (I had the baked fish with potatoes) and I sat next to a man who used to edit the business section of several newspapers. Don and I talked about writing and he gave me great encouragement and a few wonderful ideas for my fiction story. He feels there is great potential in my project and urged that I write my feelings without worry of editing, which can be done later. That way I’m sure to connect with the reader.
I ended the night with a darkened tour of the bridge and talk about some of the constellations in the northern hemisphere. We were also to go out and star gaze, but with the cloud coverage, we could only see about five stars…and Jupiter.
Being in the bridge at night is a wonderful experience. They keep it very dark to assist in searching the horizon for lights, and they monitor the screens for any debris that might be in our way, such as floating containers that may have fallen off a container ship. They seem to monitor things more intently than I’ve seen them do during the light of day.
As I walked on the outer decks before retiring for the evening, I found myself thinking that I might be able to spend a great amount of time at sea. If I could find the right job, maybe as a lecturer, I could see living this kind of life. Of course, having a wonderful suite with a large picture window and a nice gentleman making my bed and turning it down every day helps!
Day 8: Midpoint
A view of the seas from the Amphora restaurant

We crossed the point at which brought us halfway between San Juan and Lisbon today around 10am. I was at a late breakfast because I’d slept in a bit after the time change. Also, perhaps, slightly because of the rough seas that rocked me in bed nicely. Today was the roughest day of the voyage. I felt fine until this afternoon, after five hours of the rocking and drinking an iced mocha from the Yacht Club. I went to my suite and watched “Who’s Afraid of Virginia Wolfe” and took a nap.

Today was also Easter Sunday. There were many eggs decorating lunch. They had deviled eggs, but they weren’t as good as what I’m used to. The rocking of the ship made it so that I ate light at all three meals. Saying that I ate light may sound good, but I still didn’t pass on desserts.
Dinner brought yet another great conversation with people I’d yet to really meet. There was a couple from Perth, Janine and Glenn and Dave, from the Dallas area who calls square dances for a living.
I skipped the spa today. I think after seven solid days of working out, my body deserved a rest, and rest it got. I slept eight hours, took an hour nap before lunch and got another quick cat nap before dinner. It sounds nicer doing this on vacation, but the truth is, with my fatigue issues, this is really quite normal for me.
The day ended as it usually does, listening to the duo, Vee and Ryan, perform in the Compass Rose. Soon, I found myself chatting with Kevin and Renee and eventually shut the ship down for the night with Captain Reville (who cusses like a sailor after a few drinks and with no other passengers around save for Kevin and me), Adam, one of the second officers, Fred, the chief radio operator and Katie from the spa.
It’s fun when the captain knows your name and he seemed to really enjoy our conversation. I’ve dined with the captain from one my past cruises, but having a drink and hearing him speak freely without other guests around was top-notch! I feel like I own this ship!
Days 9 and 10: More days at sea
Does it really matter at this point if I combine days? And kudos to you if you’re still reading. We are still cruising across the Atlantic- one happy family on vacation. Some of us are partying. Some of us are reclusive. And some of us are a bit of each.
Ringing the ship’s bow bell

I’m becoming well known, as usual when I cruise. On past cruises I’ve been called ‘Cruise Director’ and “Mr. Opera” (the name of the ship we were sailing on). It’s easier to meet people when you travel solo. I always like to introduce myself and get to know people, you never who you’ll meet or the connections you can make. However, I’m getting to the point where I’m tired of telling my story, tired of talking airlines, and sort of tired of small talk to be polite. However, there are now very few people I’ve yet to meet.

Last night at dinner, I was being seated next to my friends, Scott and Jennifer, I was just about to pull the chair back to sit, when an older woman comes up to the other empty seat and exclaims, “Where will my husband sit?” Inside voice was saying, “I don’t really care, there are plenty of tables all over this dining room, enjoy dinner.” Inside Voice can be sort of rude. Inside Voice can be very therapeutic, as well…as long as he stays inside.
So I took my leave and the dining room manager started to lead me to a table of people I didn’t really know, so I stopped him and asked if I could be seated with people I already knew, telling him that I just was not in the mood. He understood and I ate again with Peter and Don, the editor from New York.
I’m eating much less on this cruise than any I’ve been on. What’s of interest is that the food on this cruise is possibly the best I’ve had on any cruise I’ve been on. I just don’t eat the late night snacks, as I normally might. I eat less at at lunch, and nearly every day I’m eating a salad from the salad bar. I have a light breakfast, since I’m usually eating at 930 or 10am and lunch is usually around 1230 or 1. I often also skip on an afternoon snack. There are no tea services, so I’m not eating scones and sandwiches every afternoon, as I do when I’m on HAL cruises.
I do enjoy my dinners. I have no qualm about eating two entrees if I can’t decide on one. I do tend to limit myself to the two, so I’m sort of out of luck when there are three I like. I have an appetizer, but often not the soup or a salad. I have dessert, and a few times I’ve had two. They say the average passenger gains about a pound per day on board. I am doing what I can to be below average.
If I thought I was popular before, with my meeting everyone, with my stint singing a few songs at karaoke, or with my being a flight attendant for the one airline that seems to be in the news every day, I’m really going to be famous after tonight’s crew show. I think the whole ship turned out for it, the room was packed. Various crew groups or solo artists got on stage to sing and or dance, to show off their local customs from back home and to entertain the crowd.
On stage with Laura, singing opera.

Laura, the singer for the Latin duo, began singing an aria. She went up the far aisle flirting with the men. She went back to the stage and then began to come up my aisle. She got to me and grabbed my hand, leading me back to the stage, to much applause. I went into actor mode and gushed, and hammed, rolling my eyes, fanning myself and eating up the attention unlike anything I’ve done since my days acting at the Texas Renaissance Festival over twenty years ago.

Afterwards, there were many comments on my wonderful performance and new people I’d not yet met on this vacation were introducing themselves to me. Everyone seems to want to get to know me. I even overheard people at the table next to me at dinner the other night talking about me. “He’s the one who works for the airlines.”
As much as I love the brief fifteen minutes of fame (I may regret it later tomorrow) I’m not the only star on board.
I heard last week that there was a movie star on board. She has blond hair and blue eyes. The only woman who really met that description was a woman I’d been hanging out and playing games with. We had lunch with her, and when she and her husband got up, I asked if anyone knew her last name and suggested that she may be the one. The idea was poo-pooed, so the search continued.
In the meantime, I’d met Thomas Malmberg and Michael Hall. Thomas informed me that Michael was a movie star, having performed in numerous movies, including 1946s ‘The Best Years of our Lives’, ‘This is the Life’ in 1952, and ‘Blood of Dracula’ in 1957. He also purports to have inherited Marilyn Monroe’s cat after her death. Tonight, I had dinner at their table and they gave me more information.
Michael was friends with Katherine Hepburn, who once told him, “You know why we don’t get along, Michael? We’re too much alike!” He also once stalked Greta Garbo in a grocery store only to ask when she was going to make another movie, to which she replied, “I don’t know. I’d like to order half a pound of bacon.” They later became friends and he asked if she remembered him. “Of course I remember you,” she answered.
Michael now buys and sells major pieces of art. By major, he means famous. (We later looked him up on line and found out that he had an apartment-cum-museum in Manhattan that was recently on the market for just over $13 million!)
Later in the meal, Thomas said that they had met the other Hollywood star on board the previous night. He couldn’t remember her name, but remembered that her husband was Ernesto. So it ‘was’ Diane, who I’d been playing games and eating meals with! She is so cute, kind, refined and it made total sense that she was from old Hollywood.

Drinks with Diane Mountford and Ernesto
I never did find out if it was Diane who recognized Michael, or Michael who recognized Diane, but I think they both knew Hepburn. As a child actress, Diane played Helen Burton in ‘Children’s Hour’ with Audrey Hepburn and Shirley McClain. She was also Gabrielle, the blind girl in ‘Bonanza’, Gail in ‘Family Affair’, as well as roles in ‘My Three Sons’, ‘Leave it to Beaver’, and ‘Perry Mason’. She may best be remembered for playing Trudy in ‘The Remarkable Mr. Pennypacker’ or when co-starring with Bill Williams in the role of Patty Greer in ‘Assignment Underwater’. I never let on to Diane that I knew her secret, she never brought it up at all.
What’s funny is that I’ve met many famous people in my life, from President GW Bush and his wife Barbara, to Al Gore; from Jimmy Buffet to Alice Cooper; from Matthew McConaughey to Russell Crowe. While it’s fun to meet the famous and even more exciting to talk to them one on one and hear great stories, I was more taken with my new friends Michael and Diane. I liked and admired them long before I knew they were stars of film and television, and quite honestly, I know little of what made them stars. And on this ship, we are all in the same class. We are all just people enjoying a vacation together…playing games…chatting…having a meal together.
I may never be a star on the silver screen adored by millions all over the world, but for now, I’m one of the stars of on the Star Legend! As I stated on the photo I posted before leaving San Juan, “Star Legend- It’s like she was named for me!”
Day 12: The Best Days
What a way to end the day at sea! After having dinner with two of the cutest people on board (Katie and Serell, from the spa) I sang karaoke again. I thought I did a much better job than last week, feeling more comfortable, having a smaller crowd, and a crowd I was more familiar with, I belted out Dreams and Stop Dragging my Heart Around. I did a fairly good job at Sweet Dreams. Then, my name came up again to sing Your Song, by Elton John.
As I sang, I nearly cried. I think I’ve found my karaoke song. Even Stu called me over as I walked away to tell me how impressed he was. He said I only need to reel it in when I get artistic and fancy.
Captain Richard on guitar.

After all the guests left, it was just me, the captain of our vessel (Capt. Richard Reville), the duo (Ryan and Vee) and Katie. Capt. Reville, started playing Pink Floyd’s Wish You Were Here on his guitar and I started to sing. Ryan handed me the mic and I kept going. So here was Penguin singing Pink Floyd to the captain’s playing. I messed up, he messed up. It was awesome. He then started to play The Best Days of Our Lives, by Green Day, but no one knew the lyrics. It was the most awesome!

Dinner was also excellent tonight. Not just for the great food (chicken Kiev with a baked potato, asparagus soup and a chocolate decadent cake a la mode). I had asked the captain earlier in the day if I could invite Serell and Katie, and he was most happy to oblige. I had a great time talking to them about their jobs, their homes, their duties in the crew drills and all sorts of things. I really enjoy getting to know the crew more and how things work on the ship. They seemed to have a really good time and then accompanied me to the Compass Rose for karaoke, where we arrived almost an hour after it began.

Gusti, Penguin, Katie and Serell
People were so happy to see me that I was immediately asked to take the mic. I was full, somewhat intoxicated from wine at dinner, and out of breath from walking up the stairs. I accepted the task, simply asking for Dreams. They cued it up and I started. People seemed very happy to be hearing me sing and it made my head swell.
Other than that, it was another day of eating great food, chatting with new friends, playing games in the Yacht Club, soaking in the hot tub and waving at people all over the ship, everywhere I went. I skipped working out, and I don’t feel so bad about having done so.
The captain welcomed passengers to a cocktail party, where I managed four glasses of wine (thank you Captain) and felt like I knew everyone on board. I sat near the entry and just kept waving as people came in.
I don’t know that I’ve ever been more impressed with a crew, with a ship, with the staff and officers, with a cruise, as I feel with this crossing. I may have a new favorite cruise line and I would not hesitate one second to sail on the Legend again, whether for another long crossing or a shorter week…although I think I’d prefer a crossing. I love that I get to know so many passengers and crew- even if I am sick of talking about my job and hearing people complain about flying with Mother Airline.
Tonight I feel as happy as I could be, thanks to a great dinner with staff, singing with crew (I also joined Claire in singing both a Patsy Cline song and Summer Nights) and most of all, hearing and singing along to the captain’s guitar playing. He’s not so bad!
Day 14: The Saddest Day

My suite
Yesterday, when I woke up, it was sort of hard to believe that this cruise is almost over. This was the final chance to get things done, to see new friends, ask questions, get contact information, and start accepting that being pulled off the boat kicking and screaming would not make me look good- and with the news still cycling about the passenger being drug off an airplane, I would just look like I were jumping on a bandwagon.
One hundred and thirty-one passengers were all dealing with their emotions of ending our trip. Many were eager to start the next phase of their vacation. Diane and Ernesto would be seeing sights in Portugal and Spain for a few more weeks with Lola and Ed, who live in Galveston (I also hope to see them again.) Greg and VeAnne were going to Paris. Michael and Thomas would be going to Germany to hunt for more art for Michael’s collection.
I wasn’t one hundred percent ready to go back to reality, to hear about the politics dividing our country and world, to be confronted with the new attitude against flight crews or to leave behind the numerous staff and crew who had made my Atlantic crossing such a wonderful experience.
So much was my funk, I had a very light breakfast and then went and sat for lunch without eating. Nothing looked good to me. Not the magically still fresh salad bar. Not the egg drop soup or the venison chili. Not the burger or sliced pork loin. I didn’t even have a piece of cake or another bowl of hot and tasty bread pudding. I guess I was tired of eating and that means it’s time to go home.
I spent the 13thafternoon playing games with VeAnne, Jennifer and Greg. I had an Italian sandwich while we played Hand and Foot. Then I excused myself to begin packing, while enjoying my last Sangria on board. I attended the farewell from the captain and crew, and was shocked to find myself the only one giving them a standing ovation. When I commented on this to Jennifer, she reminded me that most people were too old to stand up!
Our last dinner was enjoyable. Ed and Lola had reserved tables for us in the center of the dining room. For the first time since meeting Jennifer and Scott, we had dinner together. Diane and Ernesto sat at the table next to us. People came by to say goodbye, to give out contact information and embrace. I had written a poem inspired by Michael Hall’s story about the first time he met Greta Garbo, so I stopped at his table to thank him for the inspiration and leave him a signed copy of my work. Diane gave out neatly wrapped boxes of trail mix. Then Angela and Janet came by.
Jennifer, Scott and Penguin

Angela and Janet were the very first people I’d met. We were in the departure hall waiting for the strike of one to be allowed on the ship. I stood next to them and we talked. Over the last two weeks, I enjoyed talking to them and had shared my stress of being away while my mother underwent a biopsy to find out that she has lung cancer. When Janet threw her arms around me and told me that she would be thinking of my mother. I started to cry. I had actually, secretly, wanted to cry about leaving this vacation behind for the past three days! It felt good to wipe the tears as I returned to my table and try to hide that I’d done so. Funny.

So here was day fourteen. It started much earlier than I had anticipated, but I wasn’t surprised. Most cruises wake me up early when we reach port. For one, the engines generally churn and shake the ship. My anticipation gets the best of me and I’m up to watch the activities.
I awoke at 230am, after about four hours of sleep. It was dead silent. There was no movement. I wondered if we hadn’t already docked! There were no sounds, no vibrations. It felt as if we were dead in the water. I got up and looked out my big picture window to find that we had yet to enter the inlet that would lead to the dock. There was land ahead, but behind could still be seen the great vast darkness where there was nothing but water and sky…and the lights of a few ships. We were crawling along very slowly and quite smoothly. What a graceful ship.
I went back to bed and maybe wound up with another hour of sleep, before I was up and realized that no amount of struggling would get any more sleep for me. I got out of bed and dressed. I went up to deck seven to enjoy the view, just in time to pass under the large, orange bridge that could easily be mistaken for San Francisco’s Golden Gate Bridge. I was back in Lisbon.

Lisbon bridge
Soon, the pilot was brought on board. Then a tug raced past and helped nudge us into dock, right behind the Rotterdam, a ship I had sailed on a few years ago. She appeared larger than I remembered.
The sun came up slowly, as if not wanting to disturb anyone. One final breakfast, a few last goodbyes, then they called for my departure. The last person I saw on board was Jennifer. I looked forward to seeing more of her and her husband, Scott, who lived so close to me.
I took a deep breath and walked down the gang way. At the end was Captain Reville, who shook my hand, called me by name and assured me that next time I saw him, he’d do a better job at playing Pink Floyd’s Wish You Were Here. I laughed and nearly wanted to hug him. Instead, I smiled and said farewell, walking a few steps away for a final photo of the ship that had become my home for two weeks.
Parting shot

She was a good ship. She had a few flaws, such as a gym that I thought was a bit too small, not as much entertainment as I had hoped to enjoy, and some wasted spaces, but these were all surpassed by the things I loved about the Legend. Her small size, her great crew, her large cabins, her ability to pamper. For two weeks, I was just as rich as anyone on board. I ate the same meals, received the same gracious service and enjoyed the same amenities as those who could afford the largest suites. I would not hesitate one second to sail on this ship again!

I found a great routine that included time with new friends, chatting with officers and crew, working out nearly every day (I’d lost five pounds before the cruise and gained only ten, so I’m only up five over normal…the diet beings when I get home!) and enjoying the steam room, sauna, hot tub and pool. There were planned activities, but there were never so many that I felt pressured with too many things to do. Most everyone on board was quite content in having a lot of free time. People read books, played games, did needlepoint, watched movies, talked, and enjoyed the days at sea.
My journey home took just over 14 hours; that’s only one hour for each of the days I’d just spent getting there. I could have easily gotten right back on board and done the crossing in reverse!
The Poems inspired from this voyage:
Here are the two poems inspired from my meeting with Michael Hall. He was such a dapper man, riding in his scooter and cared for by his friend and business partner, Thomas Malmberg. He was always polite and dressed colorfully, usually in a tweed sports coat and often wearing elephant print pants, which he bought in either Cambodia or Thailand, he wasn’t quite sure. He did say that he’d bought about a dozen to give away, but found that he liked them so much that he decided to keep them for himself. He also always wore an ascot around his neck. I could see me trying to be like that when I’m in my 90s!
He and Thomas, while polite and genteel, seemed to relish their privacy. They always ate at a table for two, but I did manage to have lunch with them one day, and another night I sat next to Michael at dinner. I had hoped to hear stories, which he at first indicated he was reticent to share, but eventually he did open up to talk about a few.
Baby, the cat he inherited from Marilyn Monroe, was not named Baby by her. Thomas mentioned that Baby was a little terror, jumping onto the backs of other cats. He asked Michael how Baby came to pass. Michael thought about it for a moment and said he had bothered a neighbor who had a canary and that he was pretty sure the cat had been poisoned by the neighbor.
He told me about hearing that Greta Garbo was shopping in a store across the street, so he hurried over. He spied her from behind the bread counter and around corners. He finally got up enough courage to approach her and she looked at him. He asked simply, “When are you going to do another movie, Miss Garbo?” He mimicked her accent in telling me that she answered him, and without missing a beat, turned back to the butcher and ordered half a pound of bacon.
Thomas then brought up Katherine Hepburn, mimicking her voice, saying, “You know why we don’t get along, Michael? We’re too much alike.” For a second, it sounded as if he was simply saying this to Michael, but I knew he was talking about Hepburn before he said the name. He did the line and looked at Michael for his response, who picked up right on it and repeated it to Thomas. He then looked at me to indicate that Thomas was making fun of something she had once told him. I think Thomas enjoyed hearing the stories as much as anyone.
That was about the extent of the stories I was able to get out of Michael Hall. He was very kind and I was thrilled to meet him, without knowing who he even was. He was just so interesting and worldly. Thomas had a bite to him, and could use a sharp wit to have me wonder if he was trying to be funny or cruel. He was calm, quite polite to others and had very expressive eyes that seemed to give him away as being kind and gentle, however, as Michael’s business partner, and seeing his wit, I’m sure he keeps people in line when it comes to Michael’s investments.
I told them both that I would have loved to spend more time getting to know them. I left them my contact information and gave Michael signed copies of the following two poems. I hope I hear from them, and they did say if they ever came to Houston that they would let me know. He was very appreciative, and Thomas had to point out an error that I had made in my poem…when Michael had Baby, he lived in a house, not an apartment in New York. I asked if he were that factual when ‘he’ wrote poetry. He indicated that I had won that battle of wit, and thanked me for my art. Thomas also gave me grief a few times for needing to shave, while his face clearly had cuts. The second morning, I told him I would shave, but didn’t want to be seen with razor cuts! He loved my comeback.
Baby

Marilyn Monroe
Marilyn had a cat named Baby
When she died the cat came home with me
Marilyn had a cat named Baby
Who seemed as cute as could be
Baby had a way about her
Riding on the backs of other cats
Baby had a way about her
She made it hard for us to relax
Up atop the mantle piece
That Baby she would hop
Up atop the mantle piece
Laughing as the art would drop
Baby bothered everyone in the building
She did not discriminate
Baby bothered everyone in the building
Until a canary she nearly ate
Now Baby is back with Marilyn
Away in the great beyond
Now Baby is back with Marilyn
Baby and her beloved mom
Deli Counter
I saw her in the local store
A shy boy, that was me
I spied her while shopping
She was a star of stage and screen
Finally I approached
My heart, I think it skipped a beat
I asked her for another movie
She replied then ordered meat
Many years later we would meet again
By now I’d had my own taste of fame
But of course she remembered me
For Greta Garbo was her name
I would end every night with a stroll on the upper decks, looking out to sea, watching the clouds pass under what was a full moon when we left, and got smaller and rose later each night. Some nights we had many clouds, and others there were hardly any. Aside from the lights on the very vessel on which I traveled, there were none, other than the stars above…and Jupiter. I loved the gentle rise and fall of the ship, the wind in my hair, the cool, salty air. I don’t know why I don’t cruise more often.
At Sea
No lights anywhere
No shore to be seen
No ships on the horizon
Twas a dark and barren scene
The moon danced behind the clouds
That passed by overhead
The stars were out in fields of black
The ocean before me spread
Feel the wind that blows me now
Feel the salt water air
Feel the shudder of engine props
That take from me my cares
I love to be on board a ship
As she sails across the water
I love the constant moving about
I love being a globe trotter
Star Legend

Some of the crew and me
I sailed aboard a ship
A star and legend of the seas
I sailed aboard a luxury yacht
One hundred-thirty passengers and me
The captain and his staff in white
Put us all at ease
The crew on board took good care of us
They really aimed to please
In morning- midday- and at night
We had a feast to eat
With meals that went down oh, so right
And desserts that were so sweet
There were musicians with many a song
Who daily would play and sing
We smiled and danced and clapped along
For the cheer that they would bring
When the ship arrived at port
I started feeling sad
As I thought about the friends I’d met
And the good times that I had

Here is a link to my favorite photos from this cruise: https://goo.gl/photos/2x91fBLyz67TXEUT9

Out with the Old…

When the employee bus drops me off at the airport, there are several routes I can take to get to work. My favorite is to walk through the parking garage. Here, I walk through the area where the lu

xury cars park. It’s fun to pick out my next car, and my favorite cars are usually the Mercedes.

Driving Mary for the last time
I’ve had a thing for Mercedes since I was in high school, when I loved to watch the TV show, Dallas. JR Ewing was my favorite character. He was so much that I could never be, so it was fun watching him connive others, drink too much bourbon, bed all the hot women, make money hand over fist and drive his luxury Mercedes, which back in the mid eighties, was really ‘the’ car people thought of when talking about luxury cars.
You can imagine my thrill when Mom bought a Mercedes! I couldn’t wait to ride in it, and it was perfect for her. She bought a small silver convertible that was not only fast, but looked oh, so sleek!
So I’m always walking through this airport garage, “No, no, I’d take that, yes, Oh, a Mercedes, I’ll definitely take that, but not that color, no, no, no…” picking out cars I’d like to drive home.
The last time I bought a car was twenty years ago. Yes, I said twenty…a two with a zero following closely behind. I was living in Maryland and was making good money running a Harley-Davidson dealership. I had a Toyota 4runner that I loved, and with that job, I needed a lot of space, as I did all of the shopping for the dealership, going at least once a week to the huge warehouse store for sodas and snacks for our vending machines, bathroom and cleaning supplies and from time to time hauling tons of food for various special functions in the dealership. I also enjoyed camping, so having the space for tents, coolers, shade structures, chairs and booze (you can’t expect me to camp out without libations!) was necessary.
Already loving my first 4Runner, it came natural to get another one. I loved that car. When I drove her, I became one with her. I could squeeze through openings that sometimes had even me impressed that I’d not scraped the sides. I could glide right into car wash tire pulleys without anyone to guide me in. I could feel when she needed a tuneup and knew when a tire was running a bit low. I named her Mary. She and I drove through New England and then across the entire country, after I got my job with Mother Airline and moved to California. She took me to Burning Man seven times, and camping more times than I could possibly count. She towed travel trailers, including my beautiful and beloved Argosy, with such ease that I’d forget I was towing anything. I never felt a need to replace her.
Until gas went to over five dollars a gallon in 2008, but even then, it was only because she was getting so expensive. Soon the prices came down again and we were back to our love affair.
She brought me back to my home in Texas a few years ago and she never complained about the heat, something she wasn’t used to. But she was getting old and quirky- the door often didn’t register that it had been opened, so the doors wouldn’t always lock automatically. She didn’t always beep when I armed or disarmed the alarm system. She was twenty years old with only 145,000 miles. Sadly, it was time for me to move on.
I so wanted the Mercedes that I’d been lusting after for over thirty years, but I’m still not in a financial position to be comfortable in making that kind of commitment, and even though I’ve been asking for one every Christmas, no one seems to be willing to buy one for me. I’m no JR Ewing and just the maintenance on one can be daunting.
JR Ewing’s 80’s Mercedes from TV’s “Dallas”
So into the dealership I went, whining about the Texas heat and demanding ventilated seats to help keep my back dry and drove out with a new Hyundai Santa Fe. Not just a Santa Fe, but the top of the line Santa Fe, with the top of the line extended warranty. It may not be a Mercedes, but I can assure you it is a nicer car than the Mercedes enjoyed by Mr. Ewing! There are so many bells and whistles on this thing, there is surely a bell and whistle shortage.
I’ve yet to settle on a name for my new baby, and I’ve taken photos of her, making sure to include Mary, who sat there alongside, watching me. She was sad, yet still very proud. I’d joked to the salesman that I just may cry when I hand her over, and I was assured that I would not be the first to do so. I had a chat with Mary as I drove her to the dealership, telling her how much I had loved driving her, how thankful I was, how proud, how sad and, yes, I nearly, but not quite, cried. I thanked her and wished her well.

She was a great car for me and hopefully her next owner will treat her well and she can still be a great car. If you’re interested in Mary, she’s at the North Freeway Hyundai in Spring, TX. And if you buy a car from this really nice dealership, tell them Penguin Scott sent you and I’ll share the referral fee! (Ask for Jeff!)
My new ride with sad Mary in the background

The Stars Were Out: A sneak peek at the new Terminal C North in Houston

Stars overhead in the new C North of IAH

Scott Kirby, President of United
It was a star-studded night in IAH as special guests were treated a soiree Texas-style in the new C North Terminal. Granted, these were mostly stars hung from the rafters of the spacious new terminal, still being finished out. Oh, there were stars from those closely related to the building of the new United Terminal, as well as from the city, and the airline, such as Scott Kirby, United Airline’s new President.
He touted the pride felt in seeing this new facility, comparing it to another terminal he was familiar with only several hundred miles north, referring to his stint working with American Airlines at DFW. He drew applause when commenting that he hopes to turn IAH into the number one airport in the great state of Texas.
Penguin, Scott, Jason and Clinton
It was a pleasure to meet Mr. Kirby, who asked me to call him Scott, so I asked the same of him. He was warm and personable, taking a moment for a photo and talking about family and travel. I also enjoyed meeting other United employees and corporate representatives from OTG. As the beverages flowed, so did the good spirits of the attendees.
The event was as grand as the space, allowing guests to sample the food. which in a few short months will be enjoyed by the traveling public. Along with an assortment of wines and specialty cocktails, we were treated to panini sandwiches, tacos in the variety of chicken, shrimp and fried avocado, seared tuna, prime rib, hand-tossed pizzas, sushi as well as an assortment of hors d’oeuvres passed out on silver platters. For dessert. therewere cookies and brownies, as well as a huge white cake shaped like the new terminal building, upon which were projected images making the edible building seem to come to life.

Enjoying some treats

As with terminal openings I’ve attended in the past, there were also lots of photographers taking photos of everything from guests, to food, and of the ever so important amenities that will soon be open to the traveling public. Guests were offered photo flip books and professional take home images in front of a banner wall of logos.
Penguin with ice sculpture
 

Terminal-shaped cake

The terminal was grand and makes a wonderful first impression, with it’s large space and central court spread out under a field of waving stars. It was almost as if the space were created for aircraft instead of people, it was so grand in scale. Large windows allow for ample natural light, and when the Texas sun set, the space was warmly illuminated in blue hues, seemingly picked from the color palette of United Airlines, herself, aligning well with Polaris, the airline’s new first class product.

Hues of blue

Grand spaces

Night lighting

Not all of the gates were available for viewing, and as witnessed from looking out of the numerous windows, there is still a lot of construction going on to get the facility ready for opening day, billed as Marchof 2017. This was, after all, a sneak peek, not an opening, but the peek was impressive.
Special guests enjoy the evening
Prominent in the proceedings of the evening was OTG, a restaurateur which operates more than 300 restaurants and retail concepts in tenairports across North America. If you’ve seen the upgraded Newark airport, you know what to expect. The new Terminal C North has modern eating areas with electronic tablets set up for placing food and drink orders and appsto occupy the time of passengers in transit. The chairs were bolted to the floor, so no worries about strangers elbowing you, here. If the food served to guests is any indication, any discriminating palette can be accommodated, but it has the potentialtoleave the wallet a bit starved.

Bar

Guests were presented gift bags, which contained 
The paperweight commemorative sits on my shelves at home
more food samples and a paper weight to commemorate the building. It was red carpet from start to finish and everyone seemed to delight in the spectacle. The $277 million, 265,000-square-foot terminal was built by United in partnership with the Houston Airport System will soon house new United gates, including gates designed for the new 787 and 777-300 aircraft in her fleet. On one of the walls in the bar area, it was appropriatelystated, the stars at night are big and bright deep in the heart of the Texas!

Texas pride

The Return of Karen Robinson

Penguin and Karen shopping for hats

I entered the room and set my bags in the back corner of the bedroom, hidden from view from the doorway. Mother kept a very clean home and every time I came to visit, I was always ever so conscious of the impact I was making on her cleanliness. One of my virtues is not wanting to put anyone out on account of me. One of the few ways I could do so was to make things look as neat as possible.
After hanging a few shirts and pants, I took a seat in the big, soft chair that sat in the corner of the bedroom. I had always loved this chair, it had been in the family for about as long as I could remember. I was tired. The altitude was ever present during my visits, but at least here, in their home in Florissant, Colorado, it wasn’t as bad as their last home in Blue River, which was closer to 10,000 feet than it was to nine.
As I rested, a sense of uneasiness had come over me. Here, in this pristine room with the queen bed, royal-looking dresser, glass-topped dressing table, and rustic mountain-scene artwork on the walls, I felt uneasy. This was the first time I had been back in this room since the illness, eight months previous. It had been such a horrid experience that just being back in this space and being reminded of the trauma simply made me feel ill at ease.
The  view from the guest room.

I stood up in what seemed like slow motion, gazing out the window at the mountains and trees and dimming daylight as the sun neared the horizon. The last time I gazed out this window, eight months ago, there was still snow on the ground. The wind seemed about the same- ever blowing from the northwest. On the shelves near the doorway were the same books, nick-knacks and stuffed animals. Mom liked to change things up from time to time, but these shelves had remained untouched for several years, save for the cleaning rags to remove the dust she’s always complaining about. There was the one thing, that for now, made me comfortable about this guest room in my parent’s log cabin house 9,000 feet above sea level. A smiling stuffed clown doll.

Taking it into my hands, I smiled as it smiled back, winking at me. He had a red nose and little hearts at each corner of his smiling mouth. A ring of pink yarn for hair circled his head, leaving a big bald spot. His outfit covered all of his arms and legs with small blue and pink flowers. Around his neck, a pink ruffle. He was all of ten inches in height and perhaps the femininity of him was the reason it was now in Mom’s possession and no longer in mine.
I turned the clown around to look for the name. I always looked for the name and I always seem to forget that next to the name was the copyright symbol- 1985- drawn by hand. Karen Robinson.
In high school, I was very active in various leadership roles. I served on the school’s senate and each year ran for successfully higher offices in the FHA-HERO youth program. The FHA stood for Future Homemakers of America. This was never my favorite part of being involved in FHA-HERO, as I never considered myself in the running for such a life and it sounded a bit girly. The HERO part was my interest: Home Economics Related Occupations.

Penguin’s graduation
Back then, there were three things that I found of interest. Running a hotel, running a restaurant, or becoming a famed architect. My involvement and movement up the ladder to run for a national office in HERO seemed to indicate that I might be leaning more towards a career in hotel and restaurant management. To be safe, however, I chose to attend the University of Houston for the fact that they had among the best schools in the nation for both architecture and for hotel and restaurant management.
Meeting a delegate at one of my national youth conferences.

Being a leader in FHA-HERO meant planning and implementing local, regional, state and even national meetings, events, lectures and activities. From hosting a cable TV show with puppets touting the values of proper nourishment, to being a youth editor for a national teen magazine, there were a lot of fun responsibilities. With these, came the guidance of our advisers. My adviser was a woman who captured my attention from the first moment I saw her. This isn’t to say I had a schoolboy crush on her. Well, at least that I was aware of right away. She was an attractive woman, sure, and still quite young. She stood in the middle of the hallway intersection on the first day of class helping direct students to the proper room. Skyline High School, in the 80s, at over 3,000 students, was the third largest high school in the US, and getting around on your first day on the huge campus could be daunting.

As I approached, I could hear her shrill voice offering help and then sending students on their way. I was lucky enough to know where I was headed- I was always good with maps and had looked ahead of time at the maze of hallways that I needed to traverse in order to reach my home economics class. I have no idea how I ended up taking such a class in my very first semester of high school, but as a freshman I did as I was told. I passed the attractive hallway cop, declining her assistance and took my seat in the corner class room that overlooked the very front of the school.

The bell rang and in she walked. She looked over her class and right at me, seeming to recognize me from the hallway…one of the few not in need of her direction. She introduced herself as Mrs. DeLong and immediately began changing my life. She saw a young man with ambition and took me under her wing. Four years later she sent me off to college with several academic scholarships, and my whole life ahead of me. We had become close friends and allies. Living with a bachelor father, in many ways, she stood in for the role of my mother.
Along the way I encountered many other advisers to other students in FHA-HERO. Most were from other schools in the area, but a few were there within the halls of Skyline. Karen Robinson was one such person, heading up the fashion cluster. She had patented the clown dolls and made them by hand. I don’t remember when or where mine came to be in my possession from her, but I must have passed it along to Mother for safe keeping. A pink-haired clown was obviously not something a college man wanted to display in his dorm room!
Mom came up behind me, snapping me back to the present in the guest room, and asked if I had settled in. She looked at the clown in my hands and back up at me with a smile.
“You know, you can’t get rid of this,” I told her. “It’s very dear to me.”
“I remember,” she said, “It’ll always be safe here. Dinner is almost ready. Why don’t you come on upstairs and fix your drink.” She was such a sight for sore eyes…and a great cook. I started feeling happy I’d come back home for a long weekend visit, while still recovering from that virus.
I put Karen’s clown doll back where he lived- on the shelves in the guest room- and followed Mom upstairs, thinking about how much I loved Karen Robinson. She was not my adviser, but we had spent a lot of time and laughs together.

Karen’s signature and copyright.
At the end of my freshman year in high school, I was in Washington, DC with Leta, Karen and a slew of other students from Dallas. I was attending the national youth convention for FHA-HERO and we had an afternoon free. The group of us from Skyline gathered in Leta’s room as she ironed an outfit and tried to decide just what to do with our time. There was so much to choose from, being in our nation’s capitol. We had already visited the White House and Capitol building, meeting with our state representatives. Karen had a map out on the bed and rattled off options to the peanut gallery, who would yea or nay them. Every now and then, Karen would take a pause and ask, “What’s this termable root?” “There’s another one…termable root.” “I wonder what this termable root is that I keep seeing.” The suspense was killing me, and again, being good with maps, I asked if I could take a look.
“Karen,” I asked, “I don’t see this termable root. Where is it?”
She pointed to one, then another, and a third. “See- termable root.”

The Tourmobile

“Um, Karen? That’s a ‘tourmobile route’. Apparently, there is a tourmobile that we can ride around in the city.” There wasn’t a person in the room who five minutes later didn’t have a sore stomach from laughing so hard at her pronunciation.

Karen and Leta always got along and would follow me around the country giving talks and lectures at various national and regional meetings. I lost touch with Karen when I graduated, and after a few more years, I would eventually lose touch with Leta. The amount of time between phone calls would get longer. The letters came less frequent. Soon, it was only cards at Christmas. Then, before I knew it, so much time had passed that I no longer even knew Leta’s address. I’d moved to Maryland, and Leta had remarried. We just grew apart.

I’d long forgotten the clown. Completely forgotten about it. Until years later, in the late 90s, visiting my parents in Breckenridge, Colorado and seeing him sitting on the shelf. I took hold of it out of curiosity. I seemed to remember it, but not too clearly. I looked at his neck and found the name. Karen Robinson? I’d nearly forgotten her! I realized it had been so long since I heard from Leta. But before we lost touch, I remember Leta telling me about the passing of a teacher, an adviser, someone I had held dear. It was starting to come back to me. Karen Robinson had died. Isn’t that what she said? That must be why I felt such an unusual attraction to this strange clown. It made me smile, though, thinking about that trip to DC and her ‘termable roots’. Mom was in the next room and I showed her the clown doll. “Mom, you cannot get rid of this clown. Karen made it for me and she died just after I graduated. It’s very special.” So the clown has lived on those shelves ever since, even after the move from Breckenridge to Florissant.
Then, for Thanksgiving 2009, I joined the majority of my family for a gathering at my parent’s ranch in Florissant. Dad was engrossed in learning how to deep fry a turkey. The women camped out in the kitchen pouring over recipes and cooking up a storm. I was feeling the affects of the high altitude more than I normally did. The family had plans for the weekly pot luck dinner and music jam at the nearby Grange, on Wednesday night. It was an activity we all loved, but I was feeling a bit puny and asked to stay behind. I had an array of symptoms I don’t normally feel when visiting home, so I looked up altitude sickness, and nearly every symptom matched; shortness of breath, headache, pain in my chest. But by the time the family returned from the Grange, I was developing spots on my arms and legs and had a terrible sore throat, that seemed to be sore all the way down my esophagus.
My spots in the hospital

When the sun came up on Thanksgiving Day, I was even worse. The red spots were larger and had spread and were sore. I could barely walk. My headache was so large, it was like a hat that extended several inches around my head. I could barely swallow. It was time for the emergency room. From there, I wound up being taken to the hospital in nearby Colorado Springs and remained there for five horrifying days.
They never figured out what I had. They knew it was a virus, but had no idea what kind, or where I got it. After ruling so many things out, it was obvious that as a flight attendant, I had picked up something from work- something from one of my flights. I asked the doctor why no one else in my family got what I had. I was told that viruses can affect one person very differently from another. I endured five days of that huge headache, five days of misery and pain, spots all over my body and at the apex of the experience, a fever of 106.5 degrees. I felt like I was going to die. I begged to be put into a coma. I welcomed death.
After I recovered, I returned to my parent’s home in the mountains. The family had all gone home. There was no more turkey. I had missed out on the deep fried bird and turkey sandwiches. But in all honesty, that was the least of my concerns. Still not feeling well, I longed to be back home with my sweet cats, Adelie and Phoebe. But I still had a lot of recovering to do and spent all day in bed. With the family now gone, I was moved into the guest room.
All day, in the living room next to the guest room, Dad watched his westerns. Guns, explosions, stampedes, moos, yee-haws and wagon trains- I wanted to die all over again. Those were the last things I wanted to hear as I recovered, and I barely had the energy to launch a complaint. I was not well enough to fly home on my own, so I called my best friend, flew him out and he helped me fly home three days later. I wanted out of that room so badly, and with that visit eight months later, I still had that uneasy feeling of being there. Things were still so fresh in my mind.
As I slowly recuperated from the virus…much too slowly for my tastes…I discovered that I had melanoma. I half cried and half laughed. After surviving the Thanksgiving virus, was I now going to be taken by cancer? But like the virus, in the end I wound up beating the disease. It would take a surgery and a month of recovery, but I was still out of work from the virus, which left me dazed, dizzy and fatigued. I was unable to work for eleven months, and returned too soon, at that.
In a period of four months, I had looked death in the face twice and come out the winner. This awoke in me a strange and profound need to get in touch with my past. I began to search for things, histories, people I’d lost touch with, places I’d gone. I found my best friend from third grade… and the strangest thing in the world was that he was now living two towns from my parents in Colorado and had even jammed at the weekly Grange pot lucks. I also got back in touch with Leta, who had since earned her doctorate and was still involved with things at Skyline, but was about to begin a professorship at a Dallas area college.

A very young Penguin with his grandfather and mother.
It had been over ten years since I last went to Dallas to visit family and friends. It was after talking to Leta, and her urging me to come visit, that had me plan on doing just that. It would be a whirl wind tour of my old home town, with so many friends and family to see. But in my brushes with death, it was important for me to do so.
Leta and I were close in high school. My father traveled often and it was not uncommon that I would stay in Leta’s guest room. I had met her entire family and even gone hunting on her family’s farm in East Texas. So when I made plans to visit after my illness, she made a big deal of it. Her husband was out of town, but she assured me that I’d get to see her mom and sister- her father had sadly passed. But then she told me of another guest who would be coming over for dinner. I was stunned. I was stupefied. Who was invited to come over and catch up? None other than Karen Robinson!
I felt like such a fool. It wasn’t Karen who had died after graduation. I guess I’d not completely paid attention when she had told me. Who was it, then? I was too embarrassed to ask her, so I just acted cool about it. “Karen? I’d ‘love’ to see her again!” I told Leta. I was almost more excited to see Karen, risen from the dead, than anyone else in Dallas!
We had a magical time at Leta’s house near White Rock Lake. Karen came by and we drank wine and ate King Ranch casserole. We laughed about the termable root and enjoyed the evening catching up. Karen now lived a few blocks from the condo where I spent my years in high school. And now that Facebook was alive, she and I connected there often.
Karen and Leta
I never told Leta this story, and certainly never told Karen. But then I got a call from Leta in August of 2016. “Karen has cancer. She’s undergoing chemo, and it doesn’t look too promising for her.” I was crushed. I’d lost her once. I knew what life was like thinking she was not in it, but she was back now, and this was just beyond cruel. Damn you cancer!
Just in the previous year, Mom had found a lump in her breast. It turned out to be a rare kind of cancer. She underwent chemo and had the lump removed. I had never been more scared of mortality than seeing its face in that of my own beloved mother! She lost hair and wore wigs and hats. She put up a very brave and strong front. She was more positive about life and events in it than I’ve ever known her to be. That strength and positivity is what helped her win the battle with cancer.
Leta and I at the State Fair

I had already wanted to visit Dallas in October. I’d not been to the state fair in fourteen years and it had been five since I last saw Leta and Karen. Now that Karen was ill, I just had to see her. Leta initially made things sound bleak, she wasn’t feeling well and seemed reluctant to receive visitors. I wasn’t sure that with my track record of visiting Dallas if I’d ever get to see her again. It was paramount that I do so on this trip!
Fortunately, Karen was having a good day when I was in town and agreed to be taken to lunch and then hoped to do some shopping for cosmetics and hats. Shopping with women is not something I enjoy, but spending a day with Leta and Karen, much like the old times- just replace the school with a shopping mall- was magical.
We dined at Keller’s Drive-in, a Dallas institution, sitting in Leta’s Texas-sized pickup, munching on burgers and drinking beer. Then the secrets started to come out!
While in Washington and Salt Lake City and Chicago for our summer meetings, when the students went to their rooms for the night, the advisers were hanging out drinking a bottle of vodka that Leta had brought! Knowing some of the students, I’m sure it was quite necessary! Karen claimed that when she first found out about the vodka being in Leta’s bag, she was shocked, but it certainly didn’t stop her from assisting in emptying it!
It was my turn, so I told of the time when we were all supposed to be in our rooms asleep, but the noise forced one of the advisers to come knocking on the hotel room door. It was the girls room; we shared four students per room. I would be in big trouble were I discovered to be in this room at this time of night. I hid behind the curtains and listened as the adviser swore she had heard my voice in that room. They all denied it, saying it must have been the TV, which was still playing. She eventually bought it and closed the door, telling the girls to get to bed! Giggles ensued and I eventually snuck back to my own room.
Penguin in the girl’s hotel room

Leta, Karen and I laughed at the secrets we could now divulge; that, and how nice it was that we could openly consume alcohol together. Wasn’t it fun- all of us being adults now? It was hard to believe that it was thirty years ago when I graduated. So much time having fun together had been lost. But now, here we were, trying to make up time while one of us potentially had so little. Damned cancer!
In a moment of silence, between swigs of beer in the giant pickup under the old tin roof of Keller’s Drive In, I pulled from a bag I had brought with me that silly clown. Karen gasped, then squealed, asking, “Is that one of my clowns babies?” She turned it over, “Yep, there’s my copyright. You’ve kept this all these years?”
I told her how it had been at Mom’s since I graduated, but I had just been there a week prior and knowing that I was coming to Dallas, I decided that it was time for the clown to live with me, and I wanted to show her that I still cherished it. She nearly cried, as she fussed with his hair and ribbons. Leta noticed that a few ribbons were missing and asked if he hadn’t at one time had a hat. It had, so stated Karen. Leta exclaimed that new ribbons could easily be reattached. They were the least of my concern. Seeing Karen’s happiness was the most precious thing.
Karen receiving her penguin at Keller’s Drive In

 Then, from my bag, I pulled out a stuffed penguin. “Karen, as you know, I have thousands of penguins at home, and I’d like to start giving some out to friends, so I brought this one for you.” I handed it to her as tears formed in her eyes. She tugged on the little scarf and looked at me and we hugged as best we could between the front and back seat of that huge truck. She named him and for the rest of the afternoon held him and gently brushed his head with her thumb.

Just before Christmas, 2016,I found out that Karen’s chemo was not working. The doctors felt six weeks was about all she had left. Again, I felt completelydevastated. To think someone dead for so many years and then to find out that they are still alive, and then to find out that they are dying, only then to rebuild a strong connection. It was messed up.
Because I had her back I thought that there was time. So much time. I was wrong. There is no more time. Karen died on Monday, January 23rd. As much as I had hoped to see her again, the last time I got to be with her was that cold, damp day in October, going from store to store in Dallas looking at and trying on hats to hide the chemo-hair loss. This one for the cold. This one to go with dark outfits. That one for dressy occasions. She bought way more than I thought she’d ever need- enough for many years of chemo!
She was in such a good mood that day. She smiled often and hardly complained. She was positive and upbeat. There was much life left in her, but she tired easily. I’ll never forget all the laughs and the way she held that little penguin and how anxious she was to take photos together.

Leta, Penguin and Karen October 2016
Watching Mom gather such strength and positive thoughts, and then seeing Karen doing pretty much the same thing, knowing she has many friends and family to care for her and help bring her spirits up, I had such hope that she could be around for many more years of me driving to Dallas, eating Keller’s burgers and drinking wine all while laughing about termable roots. Gather close your loved ones, we’re never promised tomorrow.
My clown baby

I’ve never told Karen this story, and I hadn’t planned to. I hoped she could have read this to know how much she means, not just to me, but to so many. I hoped she understood that everything in life is temporary. I thought I had lost her many years ago and held close a cute little clown she had made. While I will continue to do so and will always cherish being able to tell inquisitors the story behind the cute little clown doll sitting high on my shelves in my living room. I realize that life is so much more than the trinkets we collect.
Life is about the moments we share, the growth we attribute to others, the respect and admiration we have that gives rise to someone who, to the world is but a stranger, but to me and those who know her, is a gem. A giant. A source of laughter and great pride.
As a teacher and adviser, she has touched so many young lives as they find their path to a bright future. As a mother, she has nurtured life into the world itself. As a grandmother, she held dear the future she helps create. As a friend, she is a bright light in a sometimes dim place. That light will not extinguish now that she has left us. Her light only shines brighter. Her struggles are not in vain. They inspire others and carve deep into us a love and appreciation that will always endure.
Her loss leaves many of us sad. This story began with a part of my past that was painful. I was able to overcome the obstacles and reconnect with a very special lady as I helped her endure her pain. I was lucky enough to have had her in my life twice. I cherish our final embrace and saying “I love you, Karen. I’ll see you real soon,” half knowing I probably wouldn’t, but praying that wouldn’t be the case. I was hoping for a miracle and for her to beat cancer as Mom and I did. She was strong and loved, but they say the good die young.

Penguin and Karen on what Leta said was her last good day.

Karen was a very special lady. I’m richer for her being in my life, and I can look upon her clown baby with his missing hat and smile at one of the mementos she left in my life. My cherished little Karen clown. And I can surely look up at her riding that great termable root in the sky.
I love you, Karen Robinson