Substandard teppanyaki

Dear Lord in heaven, where do I start with this terrible experience? We arrived on a Sunday night before Christmas, around 7:30. We were told by the host, who didn’t smile once and sounded as robotic as Al Gore on sedatives, that there would be a 4- minute wait. It was a long time to wait, but we were in the mood for teppanyaki, so we agreed, took a pager, and took two stools at the adjoining bar.

The bar area floor was dirty with straw wrappers scattered on the ground. How difficult is it for a manager or busser or server to walk by and pick stuff up. It just shows a lack of pride and caring. We ordered a couple of mojitos, they tasted fine. They were made with sake as well as white rum, so they had a little extra punch. Pretty good mojito, but one was enough for me. After 15 minutes, the pager buzzed. So they overdelivered, which sounds good. But the amount of time they quoted was so long that we nearly left, when in reality, it only took a third of that time for us to get a table.

We got sat with six other folks, took waters to go with our mojitos, and then waited to place our order. And we waited. And waited. It took about 10-12 minutes for the server to be ready to take our orders. The thing with the server is she didn’t even smile. Maybe it was stress, or the end of a long day, but my goodness, can’t you try to create a happy and positive atmosphere for your guests? We’re spending a lot of money to eat here, make it feel like a worthwhile investment!

The waits weren’t over yet though. The first course was, of course, miso soup. And from the time we sat down to the time the soup arrived, we waited 33 minutes, and yes we checked the clock. We had not eaten in nine hours, so that time felt even longer. She did apologize to the table, but couldn’t she have asked a manager or someone to assist her?

We also noticed a table that got sat after us had their chef start to prepare their dinner even before we received our salads. At this point, we were considering leaving, but decided to hang on. Our chef, Lucas, came over just before the salads were brought out. The timing was so off and I don’t know if that’s on management or the wait staff.

Anyway, the salads were very enjoyable, and I liked the ginger dressing very much. And thankfully, Lucas was an entertaining chef between the onion flame and making the girl who was celebrating her birthday feel welcome (although she had less emotion and personality than the host at the stand) by giving her first dibs on the food and extra portions.

The vegetables, fried rice, and shrimp appetizer all tasted great. I did get a huge amount of rice though, but I was able to finish it; I guess that’s what nine of hours of waiting can do. For the entrée, I ordered the filet mignon and salmon. I ordered it medium, and while it tasted really tender and juicy, There was very little char on the steak. Mom complained of too much garlic on hers, so I wound up eating her portion. The salmon was ok, but nothing special. I poured a good amount of yum yum sauce on top for some more flavor.

About halfway through the dinner, I asked for a refill on my water and a girl next to me asked for a refill on her Dr. Pepper. Fifteen minutes later, nothing had arrived. At that point, we just looked at each other and exchanged that head shake as if to say, “Yeah we ain’t getting this drinks are we?” The drinks never did arrive. Once we finished, we paid cash and just got out of there.

The meal tasted just fine; I appreciate Lucas’ charisma and skills. But that wasn’t enough to salvage our time at this establishment. The overall experience can best be described as disappointing and substandard. That’s not due to poor food, it's about deficient customer service and and lack of customer care.

Break time

Thanks to Michael Jr. for the title. Fifteen minutes left in my break. I need to say a few things. I'm glad that I have my one judgment-free zone.

1) Two things I have no patience for from other people are being lied to and being bullied. The simple fact id A.C. misled me, which to me,  is equal to lying. You don't say you're starting to see someone and then the next day tease a freaking engagement.  And now her asshole boyfriend, who's an administrator of the Facebook group where I met her, wants to yield his power, but I already blocked him. If he is so insecure about getting blocked, then that's his own issue, not mine. But I don't need a lecture from somebody who does not know the first thing about me and is going to judge my character.

2)  So culinary is one of the departments within the schools umbrella that I work at.  Clearly, one of the classes they don't teach is customer service. From the cafe downstairs, I ordered a pimiento grilled cheese sandwich with bacon and pickles. They ran out of tomatoes, so of course there was an ingredient missing as there almost always is at this cafe. And then when I didn't like the sandwich, they only offered to get me a different food item.  I've never had a sandwich in there that I've been a big fan of. They did not offer a gift card or my money back or anything like that. But it was a complete lack of understanding the customer's request. Very disappointing.

3) My right thumb got sliced open nice and wide on broken glass. All because I tried to save my McClure's pickles. It took me one full hour to control the bleeding, let alone stop it. I'd never been to an Urgent Care facility, but I gave in. No stitches, but I got a tetanus shot, X-rays, poor bandaging, and a $32 antibiotic that is making me feel bloated.

4) Off this weekend from the restaurant. And I'm thrilled. I still work three basketball games, so I'll probably make about the same amount of money for 6 hours of work that I would've made for 12 hours of work while having to be on my feet at the restaurant.

5) Making my banana pudding for the first time in over a year. Can't wait.

Into December

I didn't see last night coming. I wasn't even supposed to be at Bible study; I was scheduled to be scoring a Stratford basketball game. But the night prior, I received word that the game had been changed to a road game and so I was able to attend Bible study group. And I'm certainly glad that I was able to do so.

After studying the second half of Colossians 3, the guys and girls departed to their respective places for quiet time, just the same as every week. David, our leader, asked for the floor, which I found a little odd, since he usually prefers someone else goes first. As he spoke, I could sense trouble in his voice and distress on his face. He told us that one of the married couples in our group was separating, and was likely going to divorce in the near future. I didn't expect it, I had no indications that anything was wrong, other than that Andrew wasn't present that week. It's strange, I haven't spent time with the two of them, but of all the married couples in the group, I felt like I related most closely to them in terms of personalities, likes, dislikes, etc. Even though we have a good sized group of about 10 or so people most weeks, when we break in half for guy/girl time, the loss of anyone feels noticeable. And losing him would be a difficult blow to recover from, between his humor and how approachable he was. And it doesn't sound right to use the past tense. But I fully expect him to not only leave the group, but possibly the Hampton Roads area in general. I've heard him often speak of his negative feelings on Virginia. This just gives him the out that he might be wanting, even if it's not through the ideal circumstances.

I prayed a prayer I've never prayed before. "God, please take away my desire to date." I'm tired of the hurt and the frustration. And the sad part is it could be almost any woman. Doesn't matter her age, her location...ok, I do care about her mental health, looks, and faith. But I can get so resentful when I see or hear about a new relationship. And I'm going so back and forth on this. I value my independence, because I've wanted it for so long, I waited till I was 35 to leave home. Know what I'm thinking it is? I'm still looking for that acceptance that I'm struggling to find in myself, and I look to a woman in order to have it. That's not a fair burden to put on a woman. If I can't accept myself, if I can't see myself as God sees me, then no human approval is ever going to satisfy me. I know this is the truth, but inside, I also know that I don't own it yet. It's not part of my core. And the sooner I can do this, the sooner I can become a more confident, content man.

Ok, I think that's enough self-reflection for one post. Now I'm going to ramble about randomness. I purchased my first Smart TV this past weekend. 43 inches from LG. It's just the right size for my living room and while it may not sound too large, upgrading from 28 inches to 43 is enormous. I've figured out YouTube. Unfortunately, I don't think it has WWE network installed, so I may have to run that either through my smartphone or computer. But I'm wondering if I need to subscribe to Netflix, hulu, Amazon prime, or some other streaming service in order to justify this purchase. I don't care about the original series; I don't have the time or interest to binge watch a bunch of series. Just give me good movies and documentaries and I'm satisfied.

Mom sent me a 3 piece table and chairs. Oh my gosh, what a headache this is turning into. The kit includes these cast bolts which are like large Phillips head screws with spiral locks on the bottom. I've already broken three and need to have a new set of hardware sent to me so I can complete the table. At least I got both chairs together inside of an hour.

Why do I do this to myself? I swore off going to road games to watch my team play. I feel as though they're not even fun anymore. As soon as my teams trail, I pretty much think it's over. It's honestly amazing that I've never been kicked out of a stadium or arena before. So now that it's the offseason and I'm bored at work, I start checking the Mets schedule and planning trips on my own and with the 7 Line Army. I'm looking at Kansas City, Cincinnati, Minneapolis, Philadelphia, and Washington DC.
Why am I doing this? It must be for the travel. I can't think of another reason that's valid.

I'm listening to the Babe Ruth biography on audio and while it's incredibly detailed, it is so hard to follow. Reading a biography that's non-chronological is fine, but when it's out of order and jumps around so frequently, it becomes much more difficult. And this is a 23 hour listen, and I'm only 6.5 hours into it.  

Virginia Jets Fans changed venues. We left Keagan's due to food quality and complaints of their regulars. Instead, we moved less than ten minutes down the road to Cali's, a small new establishment located in a strip mall. It's a sports bar that clearly used to be an Asian restaurant, since the bar looks like a sushi station. Their wings are really good, I think the chef uses rice flour to get that light crispy coating. The parking is far better, no more garages and elevators and 2 hour limits. There is certainly less ambience without the Irish vibe that Keagans provided. Also, we can't really control the volume up and down during commercial breaks like we could at Keagan's. But the viewing experience is better with additional TV's too. I think it's a positive a positive change after one week.

Well, tonight I return to the sidelines for Stratford basketball. I only hope I remember how to track the stats like I was doing before. Because there's no warmup, there's no exhibition season. It's right back into the fire tonight at 7 pm. And I'm getting paid $40 for two hours of work. A typical Friday night at Tucano's typically nets me around $45, give or take $5 either way. So I'm not on my feet and I'm working half the amount of time. It's a no brainer in my mind.

Frenetic

Work has been kind of taking over my day to day life and I really don’t even mind that. People complain constantly about wanting to go home and what day of the week it is or isn’t. It’s not that I’m in love with my jobs, but maybe they’re a convenient distraction from me being alone with nothing on my mind but my own thoughts, which are getting harder and harder to control.

The mind is a funny thing. I thought as I got older, I would get better at managing my thought processes. But instead, I constantly struggle with rejection, self-pity, and fear of losing everything that I’ve worked for. And then when I struggle to regulate my mind, I only get more upset. It’s a constant cycle of inner frustration.

Keeping myself busy isn’t going to remedy the problem and I know that. Willpower doesn’t work. To address the issue at hand, it requires something deeper than that, more core-focused than that.

Strange thing is I am feeling more and more confident at my day job. Ever since I moved away from the boss and down the hall into the office where my colleagues work, I’ve learned a lot more. The reason for that is because I’m doing the tasks that they were already doing. That’s nothing against the boss at all, it’s just that I’m now surrounded by people who are doing work that I’m doing, so it’s more relatable.

I shouldn’t be too shocked that Stratford reached out to me last month. When an employee is reliable and does their job well, the good people remember. And so, I believe it was on Halloween afternoon when the assistant athletic director called me, asking if I’d come back and do live basketball statistics. Truth be told, I’d rather do the basketball games. It’s $50 guaranteed for two hours of work. And certainly on some nights, I would make more waiting tables. But that’s for five hours of work while walking constantly without a break. And there have been many Friday nights when I’ve walked out of the building with closer to $40 or $45 in my pocket. From what I can tell, there are only four games that conflict with my restaurant shifts on Friday and Saturday nights. So to me, the choice isn’t very complicated.

Also, I applied for a freelance gig editing English papers. I’ve already turned in my paperwork and completed my sample. Although I’m a little bit alarmed that on my background check, it showed both my driving citations from the last year. Now personally I don’t think that missing a stop sign and one speeding ticket should disqualify me from earning $12 an hour by checking a student’s ability to develop a thesis statement. But we’ll see if anything comes of it.

So add it all up and I’m facing the possibility of working four jobs every week. And it doesn’t even scare or overwhelm me.

I'm getting bitter at the thought of romantic love. Almost every time there’s a new engagement or a new relationship being posted on social media, I feel ill inside. It doesn’t matter who the girl is. I don't see it changing. And I don’t want to feel that way. There is a part of me that wants to not care anymore. I have lived in the crush zone most of my life. Looking for the girl who I could have hope that something could work out. It would frequently lead to disappointment though. And almost all of the girls who I have dated, I settled for them. I thought to myself recently that life would be pretty good if I my biggest hurt in life was related to those kinds of relationships not working out. I still want and need friends. That will never change, I’m not trying to be a hermit here. Maybe all of this is why I'm pouring myself into working.

I can’t believe it took me two weeks to finally write about the Wicked 10k in Virginia Beach. Rain had been forecasted all week. I had never run a race in the rain and I certainly didn’t want to start while running the farthest I’d ever attempted in my life outdoors. On the 45-minute drive to Virginia Beach in the dark, there was some steady sprinkling, but once I crossed over the tunnel and into Norfolk, there weren’t any real problems. I had woke up at 5:00 a.m. and ate an almond butter sandwich and a banana.

I picked up my packet inside the Virginia Beach Convention Center, dropped my dry bag off at the booth, and was given a women’s shirt instead of a men’s. Of course, I didn’t think enough to check the gender. Let’s just say the neck line was down way too low for me.

I tried to run at a steady 7.5 mph, or 8 minutes a mile. The only checkpoint I had was at the halfway mark of 3.12 miles. I crossed that line at 24:37, for a 7:26 pace. By this point, I was running south on the boardwalk, past the Neptune statue, and I knew it would be a challenge to maintain that pace for 25 more minutes. But one thing I know about by Billy to run is that I'm a good finisher. I didn't feel myself speeding up, but clearly I did. Because by mile 5 I barely had anything left in the tank. I was so fatigued, that I began skipping as I worked my way on to Pacific Avenue for the last mile.

 The tricky part with the course was due to the change because of the expected weather, we weren't finishing with a straight away run down the boardwalk, we were finishing by running around the convention center of period so when I thought I was right at the end, I would have to make another turn and then another. I probably had 2 or 3 quick stops in the last half mile and I probably power walked for about 5 seconds. Eventually I got a steady jog going again and I was able to maintain that jog for the last quarter mile across the finish line. I don't even know if I saw my time, probably because I was so exhausted. But I took my banana, water, and finishing medal, of course I passed on the chocolate chip granola bar and headed inside for the party and vainly tried to catch my breath. 

Panting, I reclaimed my bag with my cell phone inside and checked for my alerts. I had two text messages, one with my midway time and then the second with my finishing time. I opened the text and I could hardly believe it. 

48:52

I thought I was going to finish around 55 minutes as I was hitting the wall. But I beat my goal over a minute. And I don't think it'll be my last 10k race. I don't know how much farther I could push my body. A 10 miler maybe, if I could learn to go slow. A half marathon, I don't know. My whole thing is they only had soup for food there. There should have been a couple of food trucks too. I gladly would have paid for a couple of sliders at that moment.

Song pick: "Quits" Gary Stewart

Fall Closing In

Fifty degrees and windy on a Sunday in mid October. It's feeling like fall today in coastal Virginia... and I neglected to bring a jacket.

One of the biggest changes I've made in my life over the last couple of weeks, no it actually is the biggest, is I am following a financial budget. I knew who Dave Ramsey is, I've even heard him speak once.  But I decided to start watching some of his videos and it gave me the urgency to get rid of my student loan. Now granted, it's not a whole lot at this point, but it would be very nice to have that burden off my shoulders. It's on a ten year plan, but if I could get rid of it in 5 or 6 years total, why not?

So I downloaded everydollar.com,  And now I'm recording literally every purchase that I make and every dollar that comes in.  I feel much more accountable and also I feel like I have a lot more purpose because I know where each dollar is going and what I have to work with. And I'm sure I'll adjust the numbers as different months go by, but I think this is a really valuable tool.

I saw Michael Jr's film, More Than Funny, last Thursday. It was pretty fantastic, especially the bit where he talks about how white people tend to give their dogs human names and black people tend to give their dogs non human names. But there were also several human stories that demonstrated the power of doing something for somebody else.  From the artist, to the man helping homeless people, to the Nissan NV for the family of 16. And that's why it was more than funny.

With Friday off, I went to Williamsburg for a few hours.  Besides getting my hair cut, I went to Amber Ox for the 2nd time. It's a public house and brewery, but with a little bit of Southern flair. I had a BLT with seared pork belly. The pork belly works better than bacon because it's so thick and it doesn't get overwhelmed by the other ingredients. From there, I made a stop at Whitley's for some peanuts. I got their health fusion mix, the barbecue bourbon, a party mix for small group, and a gift pack for my father. I really wanted to get the salt and pepper cashews,  if only they were available to sample.

A few other things I want to say. It amazes me that I have social media "friends" who only contact me when they're annoyed or upset with me. Constructive criticism can be very beneficial. But I'm absolutely tired of people who only talk to me with the intention of expressing their displeasure. If that's all they're going to do, then don't waste my time. Because that's not a friendship.

Can't wait for Creed 2. At this rate, that may be the highlight of my Thanksgiving.

Handsome Biscuit may be the best eatery in all of Norfolk, Virginia. I came in the middle of a Saturday afternoon and the line was out the door. Of course, this isn't the biggest building in the world, so the line is going to find its way out the door quite quickly. I ordered two sandwiches, the Stevie and the AC Slawter.

The Slawtwer has their pulled pork (which had a tangy, almost apple flavor to it), Lupo hot sauce, and apple slaw on the sweet potato biscuit. Fantastic combo and a delicious mess. The biscuit almost held up even though there was a pile of meat and slaw on it. The hot sauce had a lot of flavor, it wasn't overly spicy. The cider vinegar and honey kept it from overwhelming the other ingredients.

The Stevie was crazy good. Their fried chicken is big, crispy, juicy, and well seasoned...all necessary requirements. The house pickles were great. I'm not usually a fan of really grainy mustard, but the honey helped keep the sandwich balanced.

The lemon bar brulee was a really good dessert. The crust is made of shortbread and it even has a little bit of thyme, which adds an earthy, almost nutty flavor to the bar. And big props for the iced teas. They have flavored sweeteners in house. I opted for the lemon ginger and it made one of the best Arnold Palmers I've drank in a long time.

Oh and their most expensive sandwich is around $7. There's no legit reason to not check this place out. It's tremendous.

Sammy Kershaw setlist

Louisiana Hot Sauce
Haunted Heart
Meant to Be
She Don't Know She's Beautiful
Anywhere But Here
Yard Sale
He Stopped Loving Her Today
Blues Got Me
Love of My Life
Matches
Baby's Got Her Blue Jeans On
Chevy Van
Are You Sure Hank Done It This Way
National Working Woman's Holiday
Cadillac Style
Third Rate Romance
Vidalia
Gimme Back My Bullets
What a Wonderful World
Queen of My Double Wide Trailer

NHL Predictions

Eastern Conference

Metropolitan

y-Pittsburgh

x-Washington

x-Columbus

w-Philadelphia

New Jersey

Carolina

NY Rangers

NY Islanders

Atlantic

z-Tampa Bay

x-Toronto

x-Boston

w-Florida

Buffalo

Montreal

Ottawa

Detroit

Western Conference

Central

y-Winnipeg

x-Nashville

x-St. Louis

w-Minnesota

Colorado

Dallas

Chicago

Pacific

z-San Jose

x-Vegas

x-Anaheim

w-Edmonton

Calgary

Los Angeles

Arizona

Vancouver

Eastern Conference Finals

Tampa Bay over Washington

Western Conference Finals

Winnipeg over San Jose

Stanley Cup Finals

Tampa Bay over San Jose

Musings

1) There seems to be a lot of debate over whether people are inherently good or bed. The more I see out of people, the more I think people are inclined to be self centered, which in my mind is a bad thing. As a general rule of thumb, I think people will be good when it's convenient for them, but they will always look out for themselves first.

2) Thank God I’ll never be running for public office. Because anything you did wrong will be held against you. I’ve never committed a crime or been arrested. I think I’ve always lived a clean, straight life. But damn, just the flirting I’ve done alone would disqualify me from even a city council seat.

3) Dunkin’ Donuts is now losing the word donuts from their name, apparently to be more competitive in the breakfast market. Well, considering how lousy their donuts taste, I think they should have gotten it out years ago.  

4) I’m three weeks into my eight week training program for the 10k. And while I’m finishing what I need to, I have to say, it’s taking a toll on my shins and the ball of my right foot. I think at this point, if I’m going to run this race and accomplish the goal that I’ve set out for myself, then I have to ice my legs more often. I did run 6.3 miles in 50 minutes yesterday, which would be exactly what I’m shooting for. It was an extra mile than what I was scheduled to do, but I was feeling good and I felt like I could push it. Then today, I was supposed to come right back for a 4-mile easy run, but I stopped at 1.5. I have to run again tomorrow, and I felt it would be best for me to rest today.

5) I feel as though I have no social life anymore, except when I watch the Jets games with the crew. I guess that’s the sacrifice I made for earning extra income. Working six days a week has really limited any Meetup events. At least my Thursday night group is resuming soon.

Florence

1) I've been bracing myself for the last week. Reporters and meteorologists have been projecting Hurricane Florence to possibly be the most severe and the most damaging to impact the East Coast in many decades. But it's Friday night, and so far, the effects haven't been felt where I live. Rain is expected for about 36 hours straight, but we're down to a tropical storm level. While there may be some flooding, there's a good chance that I won't have to evacuate the area. The one thing I'm wondering about is if there will be much action at Tucano's on Saturday night.

2) I've completed nearly two weeks of my 8 week training program. Today, I ran five miles in 41 minutes. That's nearly the pace I'm hoping to maintain at the end of October. The goal is to run the 6.25 miles in under 50 minutes. Right now, I'm not sure I would be able to do that, but I'd be able to make a good attempt. With six more weeks to go, I should be able to do this. I need to find a pace that I can maintain for that long length of time.

3) While I certainly have a lot of respect and appreciation for David Wright, I'm not feeling very emotional over him coming back to play one last game. I was always more of a Jose Reyes fan, probably because I have a knack for players who provide speed, energy, and get on base consistently. I guess I felt that guys like Wright were more replaceable, a dime a dozen. And there's no denying that because of injuries, we as Mets fans did not get to see what he was truly capable of accomplishing. He had five or so really impressive seasons. But by the 2010s, he just wasn't an elite player. He's sort of become symbolic of the Mets. A lot of hope, some good flashes and signs of brilliance, but the results never quite lived up to the possibilities. That said, he did become one of the best position players in franchise history in terms of numbers and more than that, he always seemed to treat people with dignity and respect. It'll be nice to watch Wright and Reyes patrol the left side of the infield one last time.

4) I'm very excited to see the sequel to Unbroken. And I'm getting to see it for free at the Cinemark theater in Norfolk. That said, how does a major movie theater not serve hot pretzels?

Europe, part 9

Final day on the ship. It was one last omelet and fresh squeezed OJ for breakfast. Plus a sticky bun for good measure. We left the Symphony of the Seas at 8:30 and 15 minutes later, along with a young British couple, we began the trip to Fiucimino Airport. I expected it to take about an hour and a half, but we arrived in around 45 minutes. The driver then took us to the Hilton, and we dropped off our luggage before taking the free hotel bus to downtown Rome.

 

After getting dropped off in Piazza Venezia, we walked uphill on Luigi for five minutes to where the tour buses meet. We boarded a hop on and hop off trolley, which had ten stops along headphones that gave us access to 14 languages. I considered listening to Korean or Czech, but hey, I went with English.

 

The highlight for me was the Colosseum, without question. To see this 2,000 year structure in person with its magnificent arches and columns, it can't be appreciated in pictures or through a TV screen. I didn't go inside, it would have taken way too much time. But the constant stream of salesmen trying to sell us tickets just got annoying. I know they're trying to make a living and they probably get paid on commission, but six guys approaching me in a five minute span, are we serious?

 

We had lunch across the street from the Colosseum: fried calamari and a vegetarian pizza. Both were fantastic. The chef grilled the zucchini and the peppers before putting them in the pizza, which gave them even more flavor. Still thinking about how fit people in Italy are, it's still pretty remarkable to me. I guess Italians do a much better job at controlling the size of their food portions than we do in the States.

 

There wasn't much else to do on the streets near the restaurant, so we got back on the bus. We decided to take an extra loop around the ten stops so we could hear the narration again and who knows what else we could see. Between the sun and the travel, mom was getting tired. We have made a quick stop in an Italian market, before boarding the bus. It was only four stops and with an hour to go until the hotel shuttle left, so it seemed fine. Well it took 55 minutes. We were fortunate to get back when we did and at 6 pm we finally checked in. 

 

I finally was able to check social media and one of my email accounts. I also got a good workout in at a rather impressive hotel gym. Thirty minutes on the elliptical, then a half hour or of lifting. Now I readily admit I didn't know the conversion rate between pounds and kilograms.

 

Thankfully I had a cinnamon Fitcrunch bar in my backpack. That was my dinner and I didn't mind it. Although some of the icing fell on the hardwood floor and a swarm of ants soon decided they'd have a late night snack. But anyway, there wasn't any shot that I was going to pay the exorbitant prices the hotel restaurant was going to charge.

 

And then it was Friday morning, last day of the trip. One of the good things about the Hilton hotel is it's walking distance from the airport. We walked outside for maybe two minutes with the luggage, took an elevator upstairs, and walked over three long moving walkways into the airport. I got pretty fortunate because a guy passed me a luggage cart at the top of the elevator so that made the trip much easier.

 

Thankfully we arrived nearly three hours before departure because Rome has a pretty tough airport in terms of getting through customs. Very few lines, very little space, very few workers. It took us about  90 minutes in total to pass through security, ticket check, and passport control. And then we had to walk literally right through the duty free shop. It wasn't just on the side of the concourse or anything, it was like going through the last part of check in. I tried a very nice peach bellini, but it was too large a bottle for me. I did get some cacio e pepe mix, basically a cheese and black pepper blend for pasta.

 

We didn't get business class for this flight unfortunately. But we still got a ton of carbs (pasta, crackers, pretzel roll, cherry crumb cake) and the beer and wine was included. I finished watching Get On Up before playing some music. I went with a Johnny Cash roots album, which featured very early recordings and artists that inspired his later music. I heard early versions of "Jackson," "Ring of Fire," "If I Were a Carpenter," "Ira Hayes," and "Cocaine Blues."

 

Wanting a good film, I turned on Flags of Our Fathers. Hey you can't go wrong with a Clint Eastwood film about American history. Still feeling the Cash vibe between the music and the audiobook, I turned on Walk the Line, I hadn't see the movie since it came out. I know a 2 hour movie cannot do justice to 21 hours of audio. But my gosh, there was so much more of the story to tell.

 

The plane took about 8.5 hours to land in Charlotte, which was about an hour early and while  customs was empty besides us, things got a little crazy. First of all I knew nothing about the rule that you have a backpack, purse, or some other handheld bag that it needs to go on the floor so a K9 can inspect it. I didn't know and the female cop (the latest one I've dealt with who was a prick) so when I looked at her all confused, she asked if I spoke English. I was confused and offended at the same time. Eventually I figured out what had to be done and that was the end of that little saga. Turned in the customs sheet, collected our bags, sent them through to our next respective destinations, went through security again. One hour delay thanks to a passing thunderstorm and then back to Newport News home.

Europe, part 8

Smart move by me to get ear plugs from the front desk. The snoring was in full force. I ran 3 miles to go with chin ups and dips before eating my typical huge main dining room breakfast. Then, time for the final excursion, this one to Cinque Terre and Portovenere.

 

This group was huge, 46 people. And there were four groups doing the dance tour so it was around 180 people total. We started by taking a bus ride to Portovenere, yet another beautiful town in the mountains. It seems I've been seeing towns like that all week. Alessandro dropped us off and we wouldn't see him or the bus again for about six hours.

 

We walked down a tight alley with lots of local businesses, another frequent find in Italy. One shop makes pesto and nothing else. We all got samples of their amazing pesto genovese, which used garlic and both Reggiano and pecorino cheeses. Just fresh and clean. Mom and I later went back to split a cup of their pesto pasta salad.

 

A lot of the churches in this region are black and white in color. I don't recall the exact reason, but it was definitely nodding to the abundance of marble in the area. Now I've seen a lot of magnificent churches in Europe this trip. They had classic statues, magnificent art work, and bright lights. This one felt like going into the catacombs. It was small, but tall with a tower overlooking the sea. Very dark inside, only about six rows of seats. But it felt very mystical at the same time and I think that appeals to man's natural sense of wonder about God.

 

We took an hour to explore the area and found a retreat area that the great poet Lord Byron used. The temperature was really starting to increase and all we really wanted was cold bottled water and a seat in the shade. We took a boat ride to Cinque Terre. But specifically, what we did was pass the five hillside/seaside village towns that comprise Cinque Terre: Riomaggiore, Manarola. Corniglia, Vernazza, and Monterosso, which is the town where we spent two hours. The ride took maybe a half hour and I was just baking in the sun.

 

We all got a glass of local white wine and a bottle of water. Truth be told, I had no desire for alcohol in that moment. I just wanted to cool down. We grabbed a meal at a local restaurant, Caprese salad and octopus salad. I later got a cup of cherry swirl gelato, hey I was back in Italy, what else was there to do on a hot day?

 

We all took the train to the next western town on the line. Considering how remote these towns are and that the workers had to dig through miles of mountains to create this train line, I had quite an appreciation for this train ride that may have lasted only six or seven minutes but probably took months or years to complete.

 

The bus was waiting for us and I quickly fell asleep on board. We got back to the ship at 4:45, and it's funny because mom thought we'd get back around seven at night. To be honest, I thought it was an ok excursion, but not great, at least not compared to the others. I could have been totally content spending a half hour less in each town.

 

I immediately changed into my bathing suit and headed up to the 15th floor for pool volleyball. I played for 90 minutes and it was my moment of redemption God had for me. Not because I played on a team that won a game or because I played exceptionally well. Instead I got to focus on others, make sure they were included and they got chances to play. I guess I was at my best was when I wasn't focused on myself. There were a lot of kids playing too, and maybe that motivated me to behave a little bit better.

 

After I had my fill, it was over to the bar for two mojitos and one last Mediterranean sunset. It kind of became a ritual. Go on the 16th deck, drink a mojito, and look at the really cute mother and daughter that always tanned in the same chairs with the tops of their bikinis unstrapped. Hey I'm sorry and not sorry, I was merely admiring.

 

I returned to my room for my second shower of the day and to pack. Dang, my last full day on the cruise. So many moments in our lives we love as they happen, but in retrospect we struggle to recall the details. This is a time I really want to hold onto closely. We went to dinner and I had shrimp cocktail, steak Diane, and of course, the fantastic strawberry cheesecake. More than that, mom and I had a really good conversation about a lot of topics from her retirement to human interaction to our favorite cruise moments. I have to say the last 36 hours were productive in my eyes, but then again, it needs to be that way for both of us.

 

Over at Schooner's, I got to listen to Andrew play one more time. Much to my surprise, he saw me and played "How Deep Is Your Love." That was pretty freaking amazing. He then played "Always and Forever," my parents' wedding song. It's a very difficult song for me to hear. I don't cry or get emotional, but it does conjure great disappointment. I also chatted with an Indian couple from London for maybe ten minutes, which was quite pleasant. I think I was on my second Johnnie Walker Double Black. Anyway, I tipped Andrew and I later also tipped Stephen, the British guitar player who did an awesome job playing every kind of music on one acoustic guitar down in Copper and Fiddle.

 

The jazz club had a different band for the final night. Instead of the trio and vocalist, there was a five piece horn section accompanying a new quarter that also featured a guitar player. I stayed for a half hour, hoping to hear a guitar solo, but that didn't happen. But I did get to hear a Charlie Parker number. Then it was upstairs to the fifth floor for the Caribbean party. It had nowhere near the buzz or energy of the 80s party, but still kind of fun. After enough alcohol, I can make most dance parties fun. About fifteen of us danced just about every dance. It started with the electric slide, then went onto a bunch of other white people dances with fist pumps, grapevines, and quarter turns. I was just baffled to not hear any Buffet or Marley for the entire hour.

 

Then at midnight, it was Battle of the sexes. I never ever ever expected how that would go down and if I did, I would have had someone record it. So let me break this down. The host, a female, asked for five ladies and five gentlemen. I didn't intend to play, but when I saw four women and two dudes, I felt it was time to take a stand. I left my Johnnie Walker on the bar and walked up. The ten of us stood in a semi circle, alternating by gender. They had us sing lines of random songs, and if we hesitated or repeated a number, the crowd could vote us out. Thankfully I'm a big music guy, but not being a fan of pop, I had to think of songs that would surprise people and get a reaction, but they had to know the songs. I knew it wasn't going to work if I busted out Eddie Rabbitt and the Oak Ridge Boys. But they started on the opposite side of me so I had time to prepare. I definitely had variety between "Hotel California," "Jingle Bells," "Friends In Low Places," "If You Want To Be My Lover," and "Amazing Grace."

 

At the end of the music round, eight contestants were eliminated and two people survived: a long haired blonde named Jenny and me. I saw the staff bring out a ton of unblown balloons and my heart sank. I have no idea how to blow up a balloon. Next thing I know, I get a black t shirt handed to me. I put it on and figured out the next step in the game. The other guys in the room were going to charge the stage. They had to blow the balloons up and stuff as many of them as they could under my shirt. And the ladies would do the same to Jenny. Well as soon as the host said the word "Go!," at least 20 or 25 guys stormed the tiny stage like the bulls being released in Spain. At one point my head got banged against the back screen. After the 60 seconds were up, I started thinking that this was probably going to be on You Tube. The guys got a dozen balloons under my shirt compared to ten for the ladies. I figured we'd won at this point.

 

But then came the conga line. We each had to gather as many people of the same gender as we could and see who could form the longest conga line. In that tiny room, we were knocking into each other. I was literally pulling guys up by the arm to get them involved. I don't think that round was actually counted because it was so crowded.

 

The last part was the guys and girls throwing chants back and forth at each other. There was everything from "We Are the Champions" to "We Will Rock You" to "Who Let the Dogs Out" to "R-E-S-P-E-C-T." Tough to counter Aretha. I don't even remember who had the last chant or what it was. But they called the whole contest off right at that point.

 

The night was almost over but I listened to a little more music at Schooner's before turning in. Two of mom's favorites are "Close the Door" and  "If You Don't Know Me By Now." And they got played back to back. I did get the latter on video with my assistance on vocals. I can't say I had much of a voice left after the contest though. Mr. Pendergrass and Mr. Melvin, forgive me.

Europe, part 7

And country number three on the trip is France. Marseilles is the oldest city in the country, over 2,000 years old, founded by the Romans. I slept till 8:30, which didn't give enough time for breakfast in the main dining room. Quick run to Windjammer.

 

We got off the boat and I swear there were 300 people trying to board shuttle buses to downtown. Then the port had a fire drill so everyone was moved outside on the street. Then they went back inside. Meanwhile we were just trying to find the person organizing the electric bike tour. I noticed two women, maybe in their 40s with confused looks on their faces. I had a gut instinct that they were looking for the same person that we were. Eventually I found a short haired, olive skinned girl holding up the sign written in a dry erase board marker. And those two women were indeed looking for the same tour. They both are from Chicago, and one of them lives in the same town my best friend used to live. We also had a Chinese family of five that ironically lives on Long Island, but recently moved there away from Newport News. Small world.

 

I don't even remember how long it's been since I've ridden a bicycle. Probably 2012 with Jean before she broke my heart. But I think if I ever purchased a bike, it would be an electric. That motor makes going up hills so much easier. We went through a newer neighborhood and then into the city center. I can't even begin to write names down, there's no way I could understand her accent. I did have a few issues with the seat early on, it kept falling down on me, even though I had it locked in place. Anastasia, our guide, did a good job of fixing it, even though it was a little high for me, but I was not about to adjust it again.

 

But oh my goodness, that town was so remarkably beautiful. The bluest water I've ever seen, ships in the inlets, outdoor cafes, well maintained streets, respectful people. I could easily spend a few days there, even though I know maybe four words in French.

 

Climbing uphill to the Basilica Notre Dame was a bit of a challenge and I don't know if I could have completed it on a bike that wasn't electric. It was super steep. But it's been so great to see all these old churches in Europe. All I can do is pray that faith connects with the next generation of young people over there.

 

Soap is a big deal in Marseilles. We stopped in a shop that specializes in soap made primarily of olive oil, called 72%. Back at the terminal, I picked up a package of herbs de provence for myself and a nice coaster of the Marseilles coast for LB.

 

It was 3 pm when we returned to the ship,  too late for lunch, too early for dinner.  So after eating pretty sensibly all week,  we went to the sports bar Playmakers, and we really didn't care that it cost extra money. We both ordered the burger, with two patties, cheese, bacon, lettuce, tomato, red onion, pickle, onion rings, and sauce. Not to mention steak fries and more pickles. For 9 bucks, it was fantastic.

 

Feeling adventurous,  I decided to do the zip line. While eating the burgers, mom and I could see people going down the line right over us. She said she'd try to watch me. Well it took me a long time to find the entrance. The signs says the 16th floor, but I had to go to the 15th floor and then walk upstairs. Then I had to sign the waiver. Then I was told I needed socks. Back down ten floors to my room. Back up ten floors to the entrance. Then the staff had issues deciding what harness I should wear, I guess my size was right in between middle and large.

 

I didn't think mom was still watching but just in case, I decided to take The Final Abyss slide down to the sixth floor, right near where we'd been eating. It took about 15 minutes to get in. It was a pretty freaky slide, with sharp turns and total darkness. After that, I went back to the room where mom was reading her book with a British game show on the tv for background noise.

 

I went outside to the pool for a mojito and to take in the sunset. After fifteen minutes, the wind kicked up and I was back downstairs. I must have fallen asleep because all of a sudden, it was 7:30 and time to get ready for the 80s music quiz. We got 13 of 15 songs right, I didn't know Centerfold and some song about Axels. Maybe it was Curtis Axel, who the hell knows. Three teams aced the quiz, so hey, what can you do.

 

We went to Paul's next comedy show, some of the jokes were the same as the show I saw, but some changed. I wound up sitting with three couples from Canada who were arguing over their next excursion to take, so I guess I was the seventh wheel in that group.

 

I headed up to Family Feud, which was being advertised as Friendly Feud. Well, I don't know what kind of family it was referring to. The host looked and acted like a complete queer. And one of the questions was that Steve Harvey classic,  Name something you put in your mouth but don't swallow. Thankfully nobody had the balls to say what we were all thinking. I don't know why I went to Boleros, I guess it was because I just wanted a drink. But I wanted something more adult oriented, not a beer, not a fruity beverage, not even red wine. After glancing through the menu, I went with the Gentleman sidecar, which has Gentleman Jack, cognac, and lemon juice. It was a delicious drink.  Mature, yet approachable, and satisfying, just like me. Next thing I know, a guy and his wife stood by me at the bar. I recognized him from being one of the Family Feud contestants and I remembered him saying he was from Brooklyn. So I said to him "Hey Brooklyn!" He started laughing and I told him I was a Jersey boy and my dad was from Brooklyn. He then said he had an important second question for me. I was pretty sure I'd get a sports question, this is just the standard follow up. The only thing I didn't know is what sport he would bring up. The question came..."Giants or Jets?" Thankfully I answered correctly. The guy was named Gene and we talked about everything from sports, to travel, to work, to moving. Really it was that good human interaction that's so important to me.

 

I decided to head down to the jazz club. After having breakfast with the drummer a few days prior, I felt I should go down and see the band. I took a seat on the couch in front and almost immediately, Jeff saw me and gave me a wave. Pretty cool feeling. Across the club, I saw something that I still can't shake from my memory. It was a man who looked exactly like the spitting image of my paternal grandfather, just with rosier cheeks. I couldn't help but gaze in his direction a couple of times. He's been dead 11 years, but I wish I could have said goodbye to him. Just wasn't meant to be.

Regardless, I stayed about a half hour before going upstairs to the 80s party. For only lasting 45 minutes, it was a pretty wild scene with the loud music, leg warmers, and the abundance of lime green and neon pink colors. Plus a guy came dressed as PacMan. I managed to get a spot near the main stage and I got a few selfies with the staff. Finally I went to Copper and Fiddle for another 40 minutes of music. American Pie closed the set.

 

I have one full day left on this boat and the inevitable ending of the trip is starting to hit me. I have to ask myself. How do I explain everything to people who will inevitably ask me how my trip was and what did I do. I've had so many experiences that I don't know where to begin.

Europe, part 6

Sunday was a bit of a transition day on the ship. Half the passengers departed in Barcelona as they had boarded the ship a week prior. And with that, we brought on maybe 2,000 or 3,000 new passengers.

 

So Mom and I had our excursion planned apart from the cruise line to Montserrat, which is a small town in the mountains about an hour from Barcelona. We woke up at seven and grabbed a quick breakfast downstairs. I went with steak and a large cheese omelet along with breakfast potatoes and plenty of fruit. Sadly, this was the only day steak would be available for breakfast. After getting off the boat, we hailed a cab to Plaza Catalyuna. I have to be frank and say I wasn't impressed with downtown Barcelona at first. I expected a colorful, artsy city. Instead, I got drab concrete buildings, several homeless folks, trash in the street, and an inordinate swarm of pigeons. I mean dozens of pigeons. Some were actually dead and gutted; they really looked like they had been shot.

 

Four different groups did the tour, and there were sixteen of us in our group, mostly Americans with some folks mixed in from Japan, Portugal, and the Netherlands. Actually I need to include a side note. As best I remember, our tour guide was explaining the details of the tour. All of a sudden, I heard a stern warning... "Hey! Give it back!" Our heads all shot over in the direction of an elderly gentlemen with a prosthetic leg. A pickpocket had swiped a passenger's wallet and he saw him in the action. The police soon caught up with him, and they were in our midst within ten minutes of the incident. Pretty impressive.

 

Now Montserrat is a small mountain community with a beautiful dark old church, and it has a boarding school that houses the oldest children's choir in the world. 50 students, 32 teachers. Schools like to brag about their personalized attention they give to students, but I'd like to see them live up to this. There's also a cog railway station and the train really does seem to travel up the mountain at a 45 degree angle, maybe even a little steeper at times.

 

As we walked into the facility from the bus, on a faraway cliff, I noticed a cross. After we took a tour of Montserrat, our tour guide told us we could hike to that cross, Cruz de Sant Miguel. I made the hike along with Mike and Wendy, a married couple from Frisco. There were also couples from Portugal and New Jersey. It was a great and challenging 20 minute hike uphill, as I got to know those people better. Although I admit, part of me felt like the spare prick at the wedding. But seriously, it was a pretty magical feeling to make that hike to the top, to touch that great symbol of Christ's crucifixion, and to take some of the most magnificent mountain, city, and valley views that I've ever seen.

 

Probably the most iconic feature of Montserrat is the chamber with the Black Madonna, where people go to pray and confess. It was closed for some unexplained reason, maybe because it was Sunday. There was also a farmers market with cheese and honey... and pretty much nothing else. I sampled three different cheeses, two sheep's cheeses, including one with rosemary, and oh dear God, such an amazing cheese. It was sharp, it was fresh, it was aromatic. I also had a goat cheese with fresh herbs that I enjoyed as well.

 

We then headed a half hour down the road for our wine tasting at Oller Del Mas, which is a huge castle. It's a small family owned winery that has been around seven generations. We sampled a white and two reds. After touring the facility privately, we went to a tasting room that had plates of tapas arranged for us. Tuna with olive oil, Spanish salami, serrano ham, and an egg and potato croquette all on different kinds of bread. A few pieces of soft white cubed cheese which tasted fine, and a bowl of Spanish green olives, which I didn't go near.

 

I never had been taught to tilt the glass forward and check the top to see if it had any kind of color to it, like orange or pink, this helps determine how high the alcohol content is. Also, if when the glass is lifted and tilted, you put your fingers underneath, the less you see them, this indicates the body of the wine is fuller. I really didn't expect to learn about this. I usually swirl and smell and taste. Now I'll look and tilt as well.

 

We took an hour bus ride back to Barcelona and it felt like a totally different city. There were street vendors and pedestrians began to fill the plaza. But we caught a cab back to the port. I went straight to the gym, which was a bit of a cluster. I did two sets of squats and then two staff members came over to me. They told me because of the emergency safety drill, I had to stay in the free weights room because the geniuses who design the safety rules decided to put a hundred people in the gym. So basically these new arrivals were all watching me and me alone work my arms and do bench lunges. Awkward, until I decided I didn't give a damn who was watching.

 

So I figured whatever and I went back to my room to change into my bathing suit. I found a hot tub and oh baby....Feeling those jets on my back and feet....I don't know if there's a better feeling on earth. The Einsteins actually put up a sign to not exceed thirty minutes of use. Yeah like anyone follows this crap. About thirty minutes later...I could have fallen asleep.

 

Back to what I was saying earlier. The people being on in Barcelona got way more love than those of us in Rome. There was a welcome dance party. Now since it was a cruise, they had to do all the classic white people dances, also only the ones I can probably do.

 

"To the left, take it back now ya'll"
"Left, right, forward, back, turn, and repeat..."

And whatever this "Despacito" song is, I guess it has a dance that is going go right with them.

It really felt like a brand new cruise had just begun. God knows there wasn't any welcome party for those of us who boarded in Rome. But it was the kind of party I felt comfortable with. Maybe it was because I'd been drinking. Seriously though, I think it was because everyone felt like an individual.

After a shower in my room, I turned on the British tv station and began watching a dog show. It was sort of like their take on "Dog Whisperer." I guess I passed out in the room, because when I woke up, the time was at 8 pm. I went downstairs and was annoyed to find out that mom and I had to wait 40 minutes for a dinner table in the dining room. The only thing there was to do was kill a few minutes in Central Park listening to live classical guitar.

 

Dinner was at 8:45 and I had beef carpaccio. Thanksgiving Turkey, and creme brulee. From there, I went to the 60 seconds game show, where contestants competed against each other. Not much needs to be said except I found out the host was a New England fan... which led me to booing incessantly. Hey, he offered the info about himself, it was my job to show him the error of his ways.

I went to another comedy show in more of a club setting as opposed to a theater setting. All I can I is that Paul Ogata is way funnier when he can be dirty and not family oriented. At midnight, a big balloon drop was scheduled on the main promenade. There were probably a thousand that got dropped. I can't imagine the cleanup crew was too overjoyed around 2 am. Three beers at Copper and Fiddle and that was the end of my night.

 

I've got to say something about the evenings here. I feel civil inside. I can't bear to stay in my room with nothing to do. I'd go crazy with boredom. So I go out, I listen to music, I see a show, hear some comedy, play some trivia. The issue with it is it's so difficult for me to see everybody else with someone else. I really want to be over that. I mean I can go have fun, but in the back of my mind, the isolation bug bites at me. And the informal singles meetups are ridiculous. Nothing but seniors.

Most of Monday was played simple. I woke up at 8:30, went to the gym (only ran half a mile and then lifted), ate breakfast, sat by the pool, and had salad and jerk pork for lunch. And a few thin slices of rare roast beef and cheese.

 

Volleyball was a defining moment. As I'm typing this, I'm really trying to make sense of it. In spite of constant judgment and slander that I face constantly, I am continually trying to grow as a person. I will never be perfect. I may never have a perfect day. But in seeking that perfection,  perhaps I'll catch excellence.

 

I had been waiting hours and I probably think it was about five hours for volleyball to start. I love playing it in the pool, some of the best memories of my life are playing it in Mexico. And I played with a dozen people for maybe 45 minutes today. Had an amazing time, I was laughing, passing the ball around, handing it to the little kids because I wanted them to feel included. Then... the pool guy announced there would be a tournament. And inside, I knew my mind shift had changed. The happy guy who is inclusive, generous, and funny gave way to the competitor who is determined, who's focused, and worst of all, had to do well.  I'm not saying my team had to win, but we had to be competitive. What I have felt is I can't handle is lack of effort. It wasn't about winning a prize.

I had five other guys on my team and they all seemed athletic. We lost both games we played. In the first, we surrendered the last four points to lose 20-18. The second, this one guy served nine straight points to close the game out. It was embarrassing. I walked off, disgusted with myself. I got a Boston iced tea from the bar. I couldn't shake the anger all the way back to the room. I got back inside and as I opened the door, mom had just gotten out of the shower. I shrieked. All I wanted was to change clothes and go drink.

 

I sat on the balcony and asked to be left alone. She came back five minutes later and dressed me down about as bad as I've ever had it. I almost feel that I shouldn't even include this, but I'm a straight shooter even if it's about my own flaws. She accused me of not being able to hold a mature conversation, which is really just a reference to the two men she married and her sister and so now she throws it on me. Apparently because I miss my two dead dogs and bring them up most days, that's a character flaw and a sign of immaturity. She also said she'd leave Italy immediately after the cruise if she could. I'm dreading that damn upcoming day in Rome because I'll need to be near her most of the time. How sad is that? She referenced twenty years ago when she stopped traveling with me because of how I treated her friends and their kids and nothing had changed. It was so absurd. First of all, I didn't have friends as a kid, I was bullied. I didn't trust people because I expected them to ignore or bully me. I've never thought about this aspect of it until today, but maybe I looked at her friends as threats in that they would take her time and attention from me.

 

She also said I give these mean, cynical, disrespectful smiles in the midst of conflict. I think that's only because I don't want to get angry and I'm trying to counter the angry thoughts and my tendency to become defensive. I don't want to yell and escalate the situation. I really don't think there's any acceptable response in her eyes other than for me to say she is right about everything. And of course she made her grand future statement, every rant from her includes one of these. She can't count on me mentally, physically, or financially and it will take a ton of work on my end (see how it's only my end) for us to be right. And it's for reasons like these that she's doesn't think I have a girlfriend.

After a few minutes of this, I subtly turned my audio book back on, trying to figure out what had happened in my mind. But I made an effort to block out what she had said. There were no questions from her, none of my thoughts were welcome. And I knew I could not show any emotion whatsoever. I just sat there, blankly looking out to sea, as one verbal bullet after another struck. This time, I was not smiling. I didn't think we were going to be together the whole trip... that's why we're on a cruise!!! Maybe it's just different expectations.

 

Anyway I had dinner alone in the Windjammer cafe; I had zero desire to dress up for a formal dinner. I started with a plate of Mongolian stir fry, I got to create my own with mushrooms, peppers, onions, carrots, garlic, beef, chicken, chili paste, and noodles. All I needed was the broccoli. It tasted great, just a little oily. Then I had a plate with salmon, two chicken breasts, grilled vegetables, and a piece of rosemary focaccia. No dessert. Guess I'm really going for that high protein, low carb thing.

There wasn't any entertainment I was especially interested except guitar hits in Central Park. Well there was no guitar player to be found. But there was a mother. She was having dinner at Chops, one of the specialty restaurants in Central Park. I would never dream of eating in one of those restaurants on my own. I left before she could see me, or maybe she did see me and played it cool. I just couldn't bear to talk to her in that moment. I didn't really think a productive conversation was going to happen in that moment.

 

Thankfully for Schooner's, there were a couple of Brit girls to be found. I didn't really care that I'd had four shots of Johnny Walker on the rocks, I loved getting to know them, even the married ones. Something about those foreign accents, they can be damn seductive.

Europe, part 5

So it was onto day #2, counting full cruise days anyway. There were no excursions, it's just a full day of sailing to Barcelona. I decided I would do as little as possible on this day. In my day to day life, I'm so driven by the clock that I wanted to spend as little time as possible thinking about the current time or where I had to be at any given moment.

 

After what happened the previous evening in Schooner's, I had no desire to say anything to my mother. I dressed for the gym and left quietly. I did thirty minutes on the elliptical before lifting weights for maybe 20. I was especially pleased to see that the gym had an assisted chin up/dip machine, it's one of my favorite machines because it works so many muscles in the upper body. Unfortunately, they can be hard to find, even at a decent gym.

 

I then headed down to the main dining room for breakfast. The reason I went there is because I had access to fresh orange juice with my beverage package and I was not going to let another morning pass by without it. The omelet station was running and I ordered one with spinach, mushrooms, tomatoes, and cheese. I also got an extra cheese omelet, regular bacon, English bacon, breakfast potatoes, and a small waffle.

 

When I returned to the room, my mother had left. I guess she had a nail appointment that morning and had already began that. So I made my way to the pool. Even though it was mostly sunny outside, the wind was howling, resulting in the upper deck getting closed. The other consequence was most every chair had been taken. So I had to take this one chair that didn't fold down and only tanned my front side. I sat in the sun for several hours drinking a pina colada and mojito before grabbing lunch.

Those crazy winds didn't really ever let up. I stayed for the World's Sexiest Man contest, but I was really there for the pool volleyball afterwards. By the end of the contest, water was blowing out of the pool and coming towards me.  I don't mean spray in the air, I'm talking about the entire deck getting soaked. I didn't even stick around for pool volleyball, there just wouldn't have been any way to play.

So with no shoes and no shirt on, I rushed back to the room, showered, and went to dinner with mom. More strawberry cheesecake! Plus a rice ball and long prawns with spinach and crab mashed potatoes. We also snuck in a game of Scrabble, which I hadn't played in maybe ten years.

 

Not sure what event to check out, we returned to the room, but I quickly grew restless and left. I went up to the outdoor Central Park section on the eighth floor and heard a trio playing smooth jazz. Keyboard, electric guitar, and saxophone. One guy from Texas, one from Argentina, and one from the Ukraine, how random is that?!

 

While I was listening to the music, a couple walked by me that I can't get out of my mind. The girl was completely made up like a Hollywood starlet, elegant red dress, white lace laying over her shoulders, her make up took plenty of time, hair up and carefully styled. Her man/boy, on the other hand, he didn't take as long to get ready. He had on a blue oxford shirt. which was hardly long enough to reach his belt. The sleeves were rolled up to his elbows. His shoes were beach shoes, the pull on kind. And the kicker... he was not wearing pants. He was wearing dark boxer shorts with little white sailboats printed all over them. I mean... did he lose a bet? Did he forget all his pants? And did she even care?

 

I would have stayed longer, but it was getting pretty cold out, so I decided to venture inside. Then I went to a stand up comedy show, which was pretty good. Not outstanding, but there were a few good laughs. That got me out at ten pm, just in time for the informal singles meet up. I walked over to the Rising Tide, which is a bar that sits on an elevator, it literally goes up and down between the fifth and eighth floors. There were maybe 15 people inside... all of them at least 45-50 years old, except maybe one guy around my age. I checked the schedule, thinking maybe I'd stumbled into the AARP event. In fact, if I closed my eyes, I'm pretty sure I could smell Ben Gay. Not worth hanging around so, it was off to Copper and Fiddle for a beer. Finally it was back to Schooner's for another piano night till 1 am. I requested "Bad Bad Leroy Brown" and "Tired of Being Alone," as it turned out Andrew kind of knew the latter. "Amazing Grace," "She Believes In Me," and "Piano Man" were some of the other favorites.

Europe, part 4

I think I need to make a medical appointment for mom. For her incessant snoring. I slept through most of the night and then... all of a sudden, it sounded like someone started mowing the lawn. I checked my phone and at least it was 5:15, only 15 minutes before I had scheduled the wakeup call. So I got dressed and headed to the gym, only to find out that it didn't open until 6. So instead, I ran 3 miles on the track that surrounds the perimeter of the ship on Deck 5.

 

After a shower and breakfast, we were ready for our excursion to Pompeii and the Amalfi coast. Probably about 25 people on this particular tour. We first stopped at a place that makes cameos, which is essentially art made out of local shells. It was very unique art, but after five minutes, we were all ready to go.

 

I was able to see Mount Vesuvius from the bus, and I couldn't help but wonder if I could get a plate of chicken vesuvio in the area. And then onto Pompeii. We spent about 20 minutes exploring the local outdoor tourist market. One thing about other countries, they really try to make you buy merchandise. Mexico has some really pushy people, but Italy isn't far behind. But what was strange for me personally was that three different sales guys thought I spoke Spanish. I don't know what country I look like I'm from, but I guess it's Spain or somewhere in South America.

 

We arrived in Pompeii pretty early,  before the ancient city even opened. For the historical significance, we visited the famed ruins of Pompeii. It involved a lot of careful walking on uneven stones. They were certainly interesting to visit, but after an hour or so, it felt like I was just seeing the same thing again and again. Broken walls, limestone mortar, tightly crammed rooms. If I'm honest, lunch was a bit of a disappointment. We literally had no options. A fine mixed salad, creamy cannelloni with spinach, and a bit of lemon cake. I don't even like ricotta cheese! But somehow I managed to finish the pasta. On a bright note, each table got its own bottle of Italian red wine. I probably drank half of my table's bottle. Next thing I knew, I was passed out on the bus. And I do mean out.

 

I think a half hour later I woke up in Sorrento to view their amazing coastline. This was one of the most treacherous drives I have ever experienced. We were driving in a huge bus on a winding two lane mountain road. On at least ten occasions, an incoming car had to brake and back up so that we could pass through. I have no idea how Mario, our bus driver, was able navigate turns that a Prius shouldn't have even attempted. And we were able to see the Sea of Napoli and the town of Sorrento.

Our first stop on the coast was the Capri limoncello factory. The only other place I'd tried this potent little concoction was in Argentina. This one was 32% alcohol. I was surprised to find out that the beverage is made with lemon peels and no lemon juice. The sample was certainly good, but a little sour.

The Amalfi coast is an absolute gem. The sights are breathtaking between the mountains, the sea, the colorful villages, the homes and hotels right on the sides of the mountain. I've never seen a tapestry quite like this part of Italy. And they feature numerous restaurants that have earned Michelin stars. But my gosh, to drive it is unreal. Almost no parking to be found. Gas is almost eight bucks a gallon. Only one road to drive, so the traffic is constant.

 

We eventually made it to downtown Amalfi. No doubt this packed little town had the nicest merchandise I'd seen in Italy up to this point. I purchased a hand painted olive oil holder/pourer that depicts the town of Amalfi. I've never owned one of these before and this was just the kind of town from which I wanted to take a souvenir. Plus it's unique and something that can't just be purchased randomly on Amazon or Ebay.

 

We grabbed a quick plate of spaghetti and clams and then we boarded a speedboat to Salerno. Counting the 45 minute drive back to Naples, we were gone from the ship a total of nine hours.

The dress code for dinner was formal. Now I was not about to bring a suit in my bag as I knew it was heavy and it would get wrinkled. But I had my black slacks and a black collar-free button down shirt along with my black dress shoes I wear to work. I put them on and went to dinner alone. Looking at the empty chair across from me, it made me long for companionship. Of course I would have liked my mother to join me. I don't know where she went after we got back. But I couldn't help but visualize a woman who I could love, and would love me, and I could take these kinds of trips with. The more time goes on, the more I doubt that it will ever happen. Maybe LB could be it. But I don't know, I think the long distance may be messing with me. As much as I like traveling, I don't know if cruising is something I would want to do alone when I'm surrounded by couples.

 

In regards to dinner, I was quite impressed. I had a Chinese waitress and we talked for maybe ten minutes about the different places we've visited. She mentioned her trip to Capri that day and I told her about Amalfi. I started my meal with a nice glass of Chilean red wine. My appetizer was a crab cake with an apple slaw. Then although I considered ordering the lamb shank with roasted garlic mashed potatoes, I had prime rib with broccoli and potato croquettes. Really, really good, I just wish I could have had horseradish to spice it up. Dessert was strawberry cheesecake and I was definitely impressed, and I don't say that about cheesecake very often. Not too much topping, but just enough to flavor it. The cheesecake had that little bit of tartness to it as well to liven it up. I will definitely get it again.

 

"Flight" was a musical about the history of aviation, starting in the present and working backwards to the early 1900s. Probably the highlight was the reenactment of the Wright brothers' first flight in Kitty Hawk. The lowlight was the six year old girl who wouldn't stop screaming three seats down from me. I don't believe spanking kids is an ideal method of discipline... but for this girl, she deserved it. And I'd have been the first to get in line with the belt.

 

After the show ended, I decided to drop into Schooner's to listen to Andrew play the piano. I took a seat at the bar and began downing mojitos. I requested "How Deep is Your Love" and right towards the end, my mother showed up. I knew she'd been drinking as I had and I wanted some time alone. I don't remember much of the five minute conversation. I do remember not saying anything critical. But I remember so well that lead in. She has a way of setting you up when she's about to say something hard.

 

"This cruise has hit me like a bomb. And now I finally realize it. Not only do I realize that you don't love me..."

 

I interrupted right there. It was so selfish, so nonsensical, and so ridiculous, that I had to cut the conversation off. I don't know if that was the alcohol or a personality problem. I couldn't bear to hear one more word. I told her this was insulting and I didn't need to be part of this conversation. I got up and walked off.

 

The Perfect Couple game show. I admit I'm always hoping there will be a question so awkward, so embarrassing, so revealing, that it will inevitably lead to a breakup. Is that bad of me? Honestly, as hurt as I've been and as I've messed over as I've been, it's hard for me to not be bitter. Copper and Fiddle pub for a couple of beers and that was the end of my night.

Europe, part 3

The train ride itself was pretty relaxing. I played a lot of music, including "When in Rome" by Nickel Creek. Getting to the boat from the train station, well, that was a tremendous pain. There were no working elevators to go downstairs and then upstairs. So I had to lug 70 pounds of suitcases downstairs, then through a 15 foot long tunnel, and then finally upstairs. My mom kept telling me not to run over the woman in front of me. Like it was my intention to take her down. Anyway we tried to get Euros for the bus to get to the shuttle bus, and no, that's not a misprint. After a little pleading and reasoning, we got the ride. Then we were the last two to board the shuttle bus, and I had to hold on because there were no seats to be found.

 

Check in was pretty simple. We did give in and we got the deluxe drink package, which includes the alcohol. I hesitated to do it because I didn't know if I'd drink enough to justify the price. But after a  Mai Tai, and sampling a mojito, and seeing the ridiculous prices, it wasn't a hard choice.

 

The Symphony of the Seas is just about the largest boat on the Royal Caribbean cruise line, not the longest, but the biggest in terms of gross tonnage. I'm particularly looking forward to the zip line. I've never had a balcony room on a cruise ship before. But I'm glad mom upgraded from an interior balcony, where we'd have a view of another room to an exterior balcony where we could view the ocean. The Central Park feature on the eighth floor is a nice addition with fine restaurants and shops. In other words, more opportunities to spend a lot of money.

 

Mom and I triumphed in a disco trivia contest, as we correctly identified 14 of 15 songs. Thankfully, three of them were Bee Gees tracks, so that made me useful. I also hung around for Motown night and spent a few minutes in the jazz club before calling it a night.

Europe, part 2

Telling time is not as simple as looking at my phone. I haven't owned a watch in eight years and I have no desire to get one again. I can mentally add six hours to my phone time, which will leave me second guessing myself, or I'll have to use my iPod, which doesn't update automatically.

We thought about getting the breakfast buffet at the Marriott for $18, but we passed on that in order to make sure we got to the Vatican on time. We knew we had a train station across the street from our hotel, but it took ten minutes of walking underground to reach it. And we regretted not converting some of our money to Euros, and not just for tips. But the ticket vending machine only was accepting cash. I mean, how is there not a machine that accepts cards? So we nearly began walking through another side of the tunnel to the street, when we saw a ticket booth being manned by actual human beings.

 

Three stops and five minutes of walking later, we stood in the shadow of the high ancient stone walls of the Vatican. Even though I'm not Catholic, there is some of it in my history and lineage, so I feel a small part of that was for my paternal family. There were dozens of tours going on, plenty of noise and not much room for walking. There were about 15 people in the group total and we all got head sets so we could hear the guide speak to us. We learned about the history of the Sistine Chapel before working our way through many museums, all connected together, which had some of the most remarkable paintings and sculptures I've seen. I also didn't expect to see so many ceilings so carefully painted, in addition to the Chapel. We have Raphael to thank for that.

 

To see the Sistine Chapel from the outside, it looked a little like the inspiration for our Capitol buildings with its classical gothic dome. I was really disappointed we couldn't take pictures inside the chapel with its iconic ceiling. I guess if it was permitted, then people would stay inside for hours at a time to capture all those details, but then again, they'd all be in vain. The work of Michelangelo is so intricate, so detailed, so meticulous. Photography could not capture all that was done in that rectangular room over 500 years ago. Robin Williams said it right in Good Will Hunting. I guess you just have to experience it.

 

The Basilica of St Peter was tremendous in its own way. It's the largest church I've ever seen. It may be shaped like a cross,  but there are so many little parts with candles, statues, and confession booths. And I never planned to St. Peter's Square and the tomb of Pope John Paul II. I thought about all the history and dedication of these people to their faith. Though I don't understand certain Catholic beliefs and practices, I respect the people who devote themselves to that particular faith because it's not easy. And I also thought it's sad about the mistakes people have made on the inside and how that's hurt the Christian faith in general. The reassurance I have is Jesus does not change no matter how many mistakes his followers make. And that's why it's tough for me when I see people refuse to forgive others. Because who among us does not need to be forgiven for something?

 

I guess I got a little off topic. We returned to the hotel in a cab to check out and grabbed a quick lunch at a local outdoor restaurant. Pizza with artichokes, mushrooms, and prosciutto. Another amazing one,  I think that's four on this trip. The Caesar salad with chicken and peppered bacon. And this amazing chewy Italian bread... so good.

 

Then another cab to Roma Termini. The 1:42 train to Civitavecchia. Almost cruise time...