There was lots of down time on this trip. We had several days at sea with no stops and on those days we slept late, played Shanghai, and napped. I used this family adventure to further my studies on each member of the Union tribe. Ellen was the most intriguing, Dad was oddly giddy, and Mom maintained her usual disposition but consumed a gross tonnage of food on this trip that would probably appall her if she was given a total figure. All four of us slept poorly at night and napped just about everyday to keep us up and moving through dinner time. We began to wonder if they pumped the food full of preservatives that disrupted sleep (and caused Mom to have an inordinately healthy appetite). We began to wonder if there is a conspiracy aboard cruise ships to slowly poison people in such a way that makes them want to spend money and go to bed early so that the crew members can have some peace and quiet. We had a lot of time on our hands for this kind of creative thinking.
I'll now tell you about the ships funk band, Static. The party band of all party bands, they never played a song that you didn't adore. And they were good. Real good. We chased the band all over the boat to hear each set they played. The lead singer looked and acted just like Wayne Brady and had the most high energy dance moves I've ever seen. I worried for his back and knees. Mom especially loved Static and would bashfully bee-bop in place and bite her bottom lip which is how you knew she was really digging the tunes. Typically we watched their shows from the second floor of an atrium, looking down at the dancing crowds and Wayne's wiggly legs. One night we noticed a tiny old man on the dance floor. We later found out he was 89 years old and he must have been 5'4" if he stood up straight. He seemed to be traveling alone and to make matters sad, he was bent at the waist...forever. But "being crippled" (-Dad) didn't stop him. He held on to tables and chairs while he stomped his feet and waved his hands. He was dancing. Sometimes he would shuffle tiny steps side to side and when he got tired, he'd perch on a table's edge and kick his legs like a showgirl. As happy and unburdened as he seemed, he was dancing alone in a mob of youthful, middle-aged couples. Sweet Mama felt bad for him and braved down onto the dance floor, grabbed his hands, and then boy did that guy dance. He looked so happy. Maybe too happy. Was he standing up a little straighter now? His face is awfully close to Mom's chest. Does Mom look concerned? He's smiling too much.
We watched from the balcony as Mom's honorable and courageous deed withered into a skeptical, icky situation. Dad howled with laughter from the second floor as Mom looked up at us and bugged her eyes out with her mouth fixed shut. "This is the best night of that guy's life!" Dad roared. The people next to us seemed more concerned for Mom than Dad was. "I think he's standing up straight!" I said.
"I'm sure he is!" Dad sneered.
When that song ended Mom bolted for the staircase and joined us again. "I think he's an old crippled lech! I bet he does that on purpose to dance with girls!"
When we looked down to find him again, he was dancing with a kindhearted twenty-something girl who also miscalculated just what part of her body that man's head would line up with. She was dancing sideways to avoid any sort of contact with her unmentionables. Dad let out a blasting cackle. "Its not funny, Chris."
Somewhere around day three we arrived in Germany, a port town called Warnemunde. In need of some alone time, Ellen stayed on the ship while the three of us took a train to a town called Rostock. Rostock is a historical college town. Like the College of Charleston, students were crawling all over the sidewalks and pedestrian paths, emerging from science class in an old house that was once beloved by a little German family. That's what I imagined anyways. We wandered through this town just long enough to get lost once and eat a hearty German lunch. It was here that we experienced life-changing sour cream and a mystery vegetable that we dubbed "the potonion." I'll start with the sour cream. Absolutely life changing - make's a dollop of Daisy seem like a lump of whipped cream. It was thick and creamy and flavored with garlic or onion or, well we don't know exactly. Maybe it was part mayonnaise. We dipped everything in it, french fries, vegetables, even our fingers just for another taste. Additionally, I was served a large, round, off-white vegetable with my meal and we couldn't decide if it was a very dense onion or a whispy potato. We all took a bite and the jury was out. "It's a potato, it's an onion, it's a potonion!"
After lunch we rode back to Warnemunde and Dad climbed back onto the boat while Mom and I continued exploring. Turns out that old Munde is a resort town. A flower drenched village on the sea. It was very charming and very crowded. We ducked into the backstreets for some aimless wandering before coming back to the ship in time for Static's poolside show.
At risk of this post being too long, here is a journal entry from our third day at sea.
We all slept until 11:00, ate lunch up at the trough (24 hour buffet that Dad is disgusted by) and spent the rest of the day slumping. Mom and I went for "high tea" at 3:00 and we were distracted by the pair at the table next to us. An Asian mother and her 12 year old son. The boy kicked off his shoes and slurped his tea without ever picking the cup up off of the table. He'd hunch his head way over the boiling water and then "sluurrrpp!" Meanwhile his Mom asked two different waiters for cream because her tea was too strong. They both brought her a carafe of cream and then her tea was too weak. She then asked for another cup of tea to start over with and a cup of green tea for her son who didn't like the black tea. Her son (Mom called him Mogli) had his bare feet in the chair and his chest on the table while he picked up crumbs with his tongue. His Mom was unfazed by his table manners.
Dad has been giddy and energetic all day; slapping, spilling, cackling, and making crew members laugh. At some point Ellen and I were walking down a hall alone and Dad jumped out from behind a column and then laughed and ran away. How long had he been waiting there? Dad laughs wildly at his own comments. He has provided many belly-laughs each day and makes lots of cheap shots, mostly about Mom; her clothes, her eating habits, etc. Also to Mom's dismay, we came across a woman named "Tiddi" and Dad could never quite let those jokes go.
Mom has continued to impress us with her consumption of any and all food groups. She polishes off multiple plates each night and happily told our waiter, "I have a worm!" and then she cackled. She enjoys following our route on maps, shopping for trinkets, and scoping out bad outfits. She also scolded some children for being too rowdy during a karaoke show.
Ellen visits the gym most days and has done a good job with attitude and participation. While she does tend to be uninterested in most activities she will come along for a short while and has even prompted some on-board ventures. She spends a lot of time on her phone so sometimes I hide it and watch her panic. It's a scary undertaking and usually I go retrieve it before she gets mad at me.
Lastly, here's a photo of a man that made us laugh for a very long time.
No comments:
Post a Comment