Ann Shields on Letting Go

Cruise-Part One

First part of our cruise to the Mexican Rivera, began by train on Amtrak from Oxnard to San Diego where we boarded Holland America Ryndam vessel.  Road Runner picked us up at 6 a.m.  Bleary eyed, we waved farewell to  our cats.  Cats were bleary-eyed.  Des Teary-eyed.

As usual, in our serendipitous marriage, Des and I have two versions of cruising. 

His:  too long, misses his cats, 'is it over yet? asked in a plaintive voice', Knees hurt, Musical entertainment too loud--looks for cotton to  stuff in his ears at showtime.  Other times, can't hear too well and won't get a hearing aid.  Oh well!  But he is enjoying meeting new people, and hanging out with his best friend from Olympia, Ed Kenealy, and others from our church. The food is too fancy for his 'Jack in the Box' taste.  Asks me to interpret the menu, even though it is is English.  He was thrilled to find bread pudding on the menu, though.

Hers:  Glorious to have breakfast served in our room, dirty dishes hauled away like magic.  Great views, Went ashore on Mazatlan and Loreto, a charming Mexican village absent touristy traps.  Taken to Loreto  by a Tender...a misnomer.  Not tender...rocky, weavy, waves which pitched and tossed, but not my breakfast.   My friend promised I would be hauled into the Tender by two gorgeous muscular men who would drop me daintily from the moving platform onto the rolling deck of the Tender.  Since the crew and staff of the ship is comprised of mostly Indonesian and Phillipino men,  no big guys around.  Besides, who could see if they were gorgeous and muscular when you are shooting up prayers to the saints of all things hazardous.  On shore, walking on cobblestoned paths another challenge, but doable.  As for bargaining with local vendors, most overused expression was 'make my day.'  The plea to buy, buy, buy.  You bargain, they lower new price to a whisper and you must promise not to tell anyone.  Crafty guys. 

Entertainment on the ship nightly was mostly good.  We had CNN in our cabin where Anderson Cooper captivated the news junky in us, just like home  One night a fabulous ventriliquist who never moved his lips. Come to think of it, the dummy did it all. He assured the audience he didn't really need the guy with his arm up the dummy's backside? The act was so good, I suspended disbelief and believed Sam, the dummy.

The Casino sounds didn't lure us, even though we walked through it every night on way from dinner to our room.  Des loved swooping down on one of our church members to make them feel sinful as they worked the slots.  (No names here to protect the guilty.)    He/she was to immune to his teasing....anyway, sin is not preached much in our church.  My own Catholic childhood  assured me that sins could be deposited in the ear of a shadowy figure in a tiny cubicle  just for the price of a few hail Mary's, some our Fathers, and a Station of the Cross depending on the magnitude of the sin.
My greatest sin on this trip is the neglect of the gym on the top deck.  Hux, my trainer back home, will be very disappointed in me.  I have been avoiding most desserts, but that won't impress him.  His dire warning, cruisers gain one pound a day for every day on the ship.  I hope he was wrong.

Back to Des:  There were 3 formal nights on the trip, meaning men wore Tux or Suit and tie and women wore long dresses or fancy pants suits.   Des had his black preacher's suit (for weddings and funerals) and he negotiated with me to dress up two out of three nights.  This was before his feet got blisters and he couldn't wear his good shoes.  He wore his fluffy sheepsking bedroom slippers with his suit.  I should have taken a picture.  He promised me no one would notice.  Right..

Well, maybe so,  because a contingency of 200 or so Members of TOPS (take off pounds sensibly) were on our ship.  There were times when the small elevators were overloaded and people had to back out before it would move.  Kind of embarrassing at times.  No one noticed his slippers in th elevator.

All in all, we both enjoyed the experience, especially since I promised Des I wouldn't allow him on another cruise, and promised to lock the door when we got home and allow me to leave the house.

I have other thoughts to share on the philosophy of travel when the hair has whitened or disappeared and the knees are undependable and the case carrying assorted prescription meds is larger than the one carrying the clothes, but that is for another time.

  One back home, we have pictures and memories to share.  Our cats and Des are purring while I am dipping one toe lightly into the real world.  I am sure no one will bring me breakfast in bed tomorrow, call me Miss Ann and leave a chocolate on the bed tonight.  Not only that, no one will fashion turkish towels or cloths into an elephant perched on the bed when we turn in for the night. The party is over. The laundry awaits.

So Says Sassy

Pre Cruise Musings--Help!

We are are going to Alaska soon.  Dire predictions have preceded this event.  Everyone says you gain weight on cruises.  That is not acceptable at my present weight.  Therefore, I will be the only person to have lost weight on a cruise.  That's a promise and I have the duct tape over my mouth to prove it.

Secondly, a friend said he would never cruise because of all the people who get sick and fall overboard.  Well, I won't get sick since the duct tape will prevent it.

As far as falling overboard, I am not so stupid as to stand at the railing.  After all, I never learned how to swim and don't have time.

  This same friend has a theory about why people fall overboard.  My theory has to do with alcohol.  No, he says they probably pissed off a crew member and just got tossed overboard. 

Obviously, that won't happen to me, beause I don't call me sweetie for nothing.  My aerobics instructor, by the way, calls me angel.  So, come on, now.  The crew will love me.

As for the stamina to sustain me on this cruise, my doctor suggested I get back to Curves and water aerobics slowly since my angioplasty of a few weeks ago kind of tired me out.    I followed his advice very slowly.  Never did get back to any exercise until my daughter guilted me the other day, but she will remain nameless since I promised her I wouldn't mention her in my blogs again.  So I have two water aerobic sessions under my belt.

What really convinced me about my lack of stamina was the trip last week to the L.A. Times Festival of Books on the UCLA campus.   I climbed three flights of brick stairs in three tiers reaching to the first level of heaven.  My companions kept looking back to see if I was still breathing as I trudged onward and upward.  They had no mercy, just kept going. One of them, Donna, my best friend since forever, walks a couple of miles around the hills near her home.  Even when we go shopping I have to skip along to keep up with her.  She never gets winded.  She also is going on this cruise and doesn't need duct tape for her mouth.  But I digress.

Meanwhile, I was reminded of those awful golfing jokes where a golfer died and  his companions just kept dragging poor Charlie from hole to hole.  Surely, my companions would at least pause to call para medics.

I survived the climb, survived the campus, loved the atmosphere, sat in on panels and it was glorious.  Towards the end, we wanted to go to one more panel and asked a campus cop where Young Hall was.  He glanced me over, just me, not Donna, and said it was very, very far and a very long walk and I sensed he had his hand at the ready to call for a gurney should we plan on taking that hike.  He was in shamelessly  great shape, of course, the Twit.    We thanked him politely and decided to skip the panel.  It was going to be moderated by Tod Goldberg on the topic of litblogs.  My cup of tea.  So is Tod.  We had just sat in on his other panel.  A funny, charming guy, and also my friend Jan Curran,'s son.

Anyway, it was time to catch our tour bus back home.  That required going down those brick stairs without a railing anywhere in sight, while mindless young students raced past us like we were standing still.  This was more daunting than the trip to the top of the Eiffel Tower 2 years ago.   I was losing my sweetie persona, but then Donna confessed that she felt like she was tipping forward all the way down.  That's the friend I love.

So, back to the cruise where I will take thousands of pictures, write blog after blog on an old fashioned yellow legal pad, and walk around the deck, hugging the inner walls.  I will coax my husband into his dark suit and look elegant eating in dining rooms that don't have plastic forks and someone announcing our food is ready and do we want catsup with it?   He will be in culture shock, but I can't wait. 

Think I'll skip the duct tape, after all.

So Says Sassy