Friday, March 31, 2017

Lieutenant's Log # 15

I recall raving about the food on my first cruise trip. Which can be a problem, because if you're not careful, eating is the only thing to do when not playing. 24/7.  Not the case this time. At first I thought it was me, but Doru agreed. I don't recall throwing away as much food as I am these days. The good news is I'm eating less. Must be a new chef. 

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Speaking of eating, there's this one guy I come across in the mess. A black guy. I'm not sure where he's from. He has the physique of actor Yaphet Kotto.  This is the most unwelcoming foreign black dude I've ever encountered.  Which is strange for a black guy, because black males generally have this kinship when it comes to greeting one another, particularly when there's few blacks around a predominately white environment. There's the nod. Complex handshake. High five. MC Hammer trading cards. Perhaps this is only a Black American thing. 
Though I'm not gregarious, I frequently will say "hello" to strangers I encounter. This guy never responds. I thought perhaps he doesn't hear me.  I try looking in his face as I speak, he avoids my glance. Several times I've spoken to him, getting no response.  Surprisingly, I witnessed him greeting a woman with a kiss to both cheeks and small talk.  No, she didn't have an Afro. So apparently he can be friendly when he wants to. Yesterday I stood right next to him as he was going for the some desert thing, so I sprung into friendly action. "Is that cheese cake?" I got a cold "yeah." Nothing more.  Today, I said hello and nothing.   This really pisses me off.  'Miche, maybe you should say something...'  Yeah sure. All I need is some big black baldheaded jackass giving me a hard time for giving him a hard time.  I wonder if black logic is universal? I have no idea what his problem is.
Maybe I'll throw on a weave and dump my face in some pancake batter. 
There. Now I feel better. Ah...



Monday, March 27, 2017

Lieutenant's Log #14

March 27, 2017

Lieutenant's Log #14

It was 55 degrees in Kiel. That's the warmest day yet, but I didn't get out today. My voice needed me to sleep in.  It's hard to believe that it's been 5 weeks already. 5 more to go. I really could use a few days of not singing, but that's not going to happen for a while. 
I might spend an extra week here in Europe gigging in Sweden with Doru. We're waiting to hear from the agent. The last two nights have been more of a concert environment. Folks returning to enjoy the music, totally engaged. It couldn't be more clear that returning to the states is a pointless consideration for me, regarding work. Here, even the agents think I'm... special. When I'm home I can't even get a 'pay me little to nothing gig' at the local Big Tree Inn. I don't even want to talk about Rochester. Yes, I know, the ole '... in your hometown'  schpiel, well it's not like they're not hiring other hometown folks. Anyway, if I could figure out how to stay in Europe, I would, but it's a hard consideration at this chapter of my life, that is, not without key components such as a dedicated agent or manager. 

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Since stepping away from Facebook, it's been interesting and refreshing, reacquainting myself with no illusions of having a social life or real friends.  The post election revealed things in people that I found disappointing to disgusting. It reminded me of why I kept my distance from people in the first place.  I now only post my blog or music. There's a few special folks out there, but music is my one dependable friend. We're spending more time together. 

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Last night, yet another Norwegian guy, offered his wife or girlfriend to me.  He kept asking me to give her a kiss and she was clearly welcoming the idea.  Indeed another tall attractive woman. I just couldn't do it. Then he decided that he would kiss me instead. He grabbed me and planted one... Actually, it wouldn't have been so bad if he had shaved. The stubble felt like there was a scrub brush digging into my face.  To think that some women some don't mind this at all.
Guys, if you want to kiss me, shave. 


Wednesday, March 22, 2017

Lieutenant's Log #13

 March 21, 2017

Lieutenant's Log #13


I've certainly spent a lot of time complaining about the internet here on the ship and it's absolutely the worst. You can't watch YouTube videos. You can't excess iTunes for downloads, etc. 
As I've learned from the experienced, we have to get off the ship and find a cafe in Kiel that has wifi. (We're in Kiel every other day.) Today I did just that. I found a cafe in the shopping center and downloaded a video converter from the Apple Store so I can upload videos to instagram, only to get to my room and discover that the app requires the internet to compress a file. So the app is useless on the ship. I'm using an iPad btw.
I've also wondered why we musicians have such lame rooms. The passenger cabins are quite nice. It turns out that this wasn't always the case.  The musicians and artists at one time were treated like regular passengers. However, it's the musicians themselves who are responsible for the downgrading of privileges and access. 

It reminds me of the days when I was playing the hotel / motel circuit.  There were designated "band rooms",  rooms with the banged up walls and other problems. For some reason, most bands lived up to their reputation of tearing things up. Not all hotels and motels had ransacked rooms for the band, but a lot of them did. Thanks a lot fellas.

Chatting with a fellow cruise ship musician veteran, he informed me that years ago, musicians slept in passenger cabins, among passengers, could drink alcohol, were allowed in the casino and disco room.  However, wee hour rowdy parties were just too much for most neighboring patrons. Alcohol induced brawls in the disco room was a cause for alarm. And regarding the internet, one talented musician/hacker, hacked into the ships main system, causing all kinds of problems. Changes were made and now it feels like we're all incarcerated because of some knuckle heads.    

As the fellow cruise ship musician veteran put it, "The ____'s fucked it up for everybody."  He attributed all the fiascos to a particular group. No, I won't name the group. Some of my best friends are _____'s.   
Speaking of groups,  the ship reminds me of what it must be like on the Starship Enterprise. Particularly in the mess.   The Norwegians, Germans, Africans, Bulgarians, Asians, Brazilians etc, generally sit among themselves. I'm sure it's not solely as it appears, that is, that no one mingles. However, it literally does look that way.  Getting back to the veteran's comment, it's awkward hearing pointed remarks targeted at a group.  The fact and or truth of the particular matter is beside the point. Some of us take offense. It's a knee jerk reaction.  I could only imagine the veteran saying to me:
Veteran: Do you know why the crime rate is so low in Denmark?
Me: No. Why?
Veteran: Because they don't have a lot of black people.
Me: ???????
Veteran: ..........
Me: Uhhhh...   So what do the hot dogs taste like in Denmark?

Speaking of Brats, I'm hungry.
  

Sunday, March 12, 2017

Lieutenant's Log #12

March 12, 2017

Lieutenant's Log #12


If you enjoy what you do, whatever it may be, it hardly seems like 'work.'  The last few nights have reminded me that playing music can indeed be hard work. There you are, putting your heart into a song, and it doesn't matter. No one's listening and they sit right in front of you, speaking and laughing loudly as if you're not there. It wouldn't seem so bad if the most obnoxious ones weren't so close. Last night, folks were sitting at the piano, literally right next to you, chatting loudly as if we weren't there. This really annoyed me.  I'd give less to the performance if I knew how.   
These are the times that separate inflated egos from maturity. These are times that define what a professional is. 
It's taken me years to understand one's place as a paid musician. Unless it's a concert, the folks aren't there to see 'said act.' They're in the room to socialize and drink while a live band is playing.  Premium Ambience. 
Getting back to our venue the"Manhatten Room", unless you're sitting upon us, you can hardly hear the music. Of course if the room isn't noisy you can hear the band.  The folks who want to hear the music, usually wants the band to be louder, so they can hear us over the crowd noise.  However, we can't risk offending the rest of the patrons who are more interested in 'anything else but the band', for fear of getting a pink slip.  Fortunately, the house PA system has a great monitor system. So usually, we can hear ourselves just fine. Usually.  Occasionally, there are evenings when the night feels like a concert performance. Occasionally.
Sometimes it takes everything I have to remind myself of the mental focus it takes to ignore all the chaos. It's an exercise to say the least. I was a little out of shape last night. It felt like a battle to see who would be the first to shout "SHUT UP!", someone in the band or someone in the audience.  
Given a choice, I'd rather do this, than work at McDonald's.  

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Considering that I've been very good at taking care of myself, getting rest and pampering my voice, it's still very difficult for one singer to sing 4 sets a night, 7 days a week. Particularly if you're not used to it. I'm starting to feel it. There's a total of 5 sets, but I play guitar during the 1st set which is instrumental. 
I didn't sing nearly as much 2 years ago.  In addition to the instrumental set, the band then, would play a few instrumentals before every preceding set. I'll have to suggest that we might continue with that idea, before I have real problems. Again, it's "work".
Oh, there's only one break for the contracted 10 week gig. And only because we have to change ships.  

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Monday, March 6, 2017

Lieutenant's Log #11

March 6, 2017

Lieutenant's Log #11

 

I finally met "N'awlins", the classical pianist from New Orleans. "I wouldn't say I'm a classical pianist, I just play music." Whatever the case, he's very good. Of course he is, he's from N'awlins.   Like Choko, Alabama, N'awlins and myself, a lot of the ship musicians are surprisingly older players.  It's as if we've been sentenced to do time on cruise ships while the young guys are having fun in the real world. :) Seriously, I don't know if it's intentional or not, but given the vast clientele, it's not a bad idea to have musicians that have almost encyclopedic music knowledge and references.  The older guys have it by default. The young guys, good as they may be, probably couldn't pull a Michel LeGrand tune out of their musical hat. "Who's that?" I'm not saying that there aren't any young musicians aboard, I'm saying that there are lot of older players. 

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Meat and potatoes. Particularly potatoes. Mashed, baked, boiled with skins, without skins, not eaten potatoes from the day before, thrown in a white sauce. Always potatoes.  And meat. Hunks of beasts, rare to medium rare. I haven't eaten this much meat since that the last time I was on the ship. Now that I think of it, we don't see chicken much.

I'm not a picky carnivore. I tolerate what's in front of me in small proportions. 
If I don't like the taste, I leave it. I specify 'taste' because some of us are against the idea of eating any animal that's not a pig, cow or chicken. 
I never cared to ask, "What's today's beast?"  Alabama on the other hand won't touch anything without asking, "What's that?" "I don't eat no deer."  Deer? Bulgarian Moose? Norwegian Yeti? I had no idea I'd been consuming these animals.   I'll start asking from now on.  

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It's been an interesting couple of days on the ship.  Cowboys and Cowgals everywhere. 
I was pretty certain that the cowboys were from the states. Wrong. They were all Norwegians.  Apparently, if you take a fresh looking Norwegian, toss him down a flight of stairs, they make great looking cowboys. Some of the passengers weren't too pleased, as their family weekend had to be shared with drunkards with hats. "We've been on this cruise many times. If we had known about these rowdy cowboys we never would have..." "My young girls have never seen a drunk..."  
I found this very amusing. I thought that all Norwegians did was drink and eat Yeti.

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 I suppose it's odd that at night, when I'm undressing for bed, I close the curtains. I'm in the middle of the ocean and I close the curtains as if there's a band of Amazon pirates spying in my window.  "Look at him lassie. Just the way I like em. Bone thin." "Oooo let me see?"

Saturday, March 4, 2017

Lieutenant's Log #10

March 3, 2017

Lieutenant's Log #10

 
(The Day Room)

Though it was a brisk day in Kiel, the sun was out, and there was a vibrancy about town. I took a longer walk than usual.  I must have walked past three accordion players. They were all very good. I'm impressed that they are able to move their fingers in chilly weather. I couldn't help but wonder if the accordion players on the street, made more money than the beggars who simply sit on the bridge and ask for money as folks walk to and from the ship. The bridge beggers are almost always with a dog. From what I could see, the beggers aren't doing too bad. I think it would be a good idea for the accordion players to have a dog. People won't feed a starving musician, but they'll feed a dog. Hmmm, I think I should get a dog.

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Regarding shopping, you won't get a bag unless you ask for one. And of course there's a fee. I had already been to one store, so I had one coat pocket filled with items.  My last stop was the pharmacy. Usually the bags are in front of the line or at the  end of the line.  The clerk just puts your items on the counter, leaving you to figure it out. I didn't see any bags.  So there I am, both pockets visually filled with stuff and merrily strolling out of the store. This could never happen in Philadelphia without a chase scene.

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With me included, there are now four black men on the ship. A happy Kenyan that works in the mess (I'll call him Kenny) and three American musicians.  Kenny is the only outwardly cheerful person I've encountered in kitchen staff. It usually feels like the DMV in there.  Kenny chats easily.  No one ever makes conversation from kitchen staff and he seems very sincere. He was telling me about a black musician who's going to be playing in the pub. "I'll introduce you."  Sure enough, the next day there he was. Somebody shouted, "Hey New York!" I turned around and WHOA, the guy looks just like Morgan Freeman, taller than Choko, sporting a bold, "I'm an artist" haircut.  His voice is as deep as Morgan Freeman. I'd say deeper.  A gutsy, funny, extrovert.  The kind of guy I would have befriended in school to scare away bullies.  The 'Monkey Pub' musicians have to be bold and extroverted. That can be a rowdy room. "I'm from Alabama and there's a black classical pianist from N'awlins. Have you met him?"   So courtesy Mr. Freeman,  we black American musicians all know our names now. "New York" "Alabama" and "N'awlins" .      "Nice to meet you Alabama."    

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Choko is thrilled and determined to get me to perform in the Bulgarian Jazz Festival this summer. Everyday he updates me with the details.  I can't understand a word he's saying, so I have no idea what I'm agreeing to.