tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31265235265334353712024-03-06T02:24:12.326-05:00Miche's BlogStories of music, stories of life. Learning more about myself as I write.Michehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11753606427918767795noreply@blogger.comBlogger85125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3126523526533435371.post-57949556298868642982018-12-12T10:52:00.001-05:002018-12-13T10:06:20.793-05:00Lieutenant Commander’s Log #5 (The Dagger)<font size="4">Things on the ship have smoothed out a bit. I’m working hard not to stress my voice. Rest is very important. I was extremely tired when I first got on the ship. For a month on the other ship, no matter what time I’d go to bed, I’d wake up at 2am and I’d just stay up because it was pointless working very hard at trying to sleep. <br></font><div><font size="4">Surprisingly, more people are coming to the lounge to hear the music. One waiter decided that because the audience expressed such surprise and satisfaction with the show, he’d reward us with premium ‘Purezza water.’ Delivered in a champagne bucket with ice. Sparkling for Aurel and ‘still’ for me. “You’re making the people very happy. You deserve it”. Wow. Only six or eight countries in the world have this water. Norway being one of them. You wouldn’t believe how good this water is. Even at room temperature. </font></div><div><font size="4"><br></font></div><div><font size="4">The other day I was standing on the promenade while folks were crowding to leave the ship for some Kiel shopping and Kiel cold air. While standing, a gentleman of distinct character, asked me where I was from. “I’m from the states.” “You have family in Sri Lanka.” No. “Is your grandfather from Sri Lanka?” No. “Is your grandfather’s grandfather from Sri Lanka?” No. I was tempted to say, ”My grandmother is from Sri Lanka.” My hair confuses people. Most folks think I’m from Brazil. Before I could say anything, he started going in on Donald Trump. “His wife is an immigrant...” Frankly, I took this job to escape the 24/7 Trumpia. Then he said “Yes America...” He then opened up his bag from the Tax- Free store and pulled out a large metal canister of Jack Daniels. I was standing while holding a cup of coffee. He kept insisting that he pore some whiskey in my coffee. Then he pulled the bottle from the canister. Opened it. Pored some in the little cap and kept trying to put it my coffee. I guess that was kind of him to try to get me fired by one of ship spies. :) From his looks, I’m guessing he was from Sri Lanka.</font></div><div><font size="4"> </font></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><font size="4">If I hear one more music producer, promoter, record company exec say, “We don’t know what to do with him...” I’m gonna...</font></span><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><font size="4">Seriously, this has been the story of my life. It’s one thing to just be another talented person of many. However, people who have seen me perform feel totally different. When has being able to entertain and having fun with an audience become a questionable thing. Is this not the entertainment business?</font></span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><font size="4">I am not exaggerating. I have sat and played in front of these big shots who say things like “You should be famous.” “You’re world class” You’re this and you’re that. I’m like, well here I am. Then it’s the, “We don’t know what to do with you.” How about get me in front of an audience and let the audience enjoy the moments of my passion. Let the audience dictate my place. They’re not the one’s complaining. They’re like me, wondering what’s up with you so called music people. This used to frustrate me. Now it makes me angry that after all these years I still hear this. I’m so determined to matter while I’m still on this earth. It’s not about wanting or feeling that I should be big or famous, etc. It’s trying to make sense of these mixed messages. It’s very confusing to say the least. </font></span></div></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><font size="4"><br></font></span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><font size="4">* One little story I have to mention, was observing two young people smitten with each other having some small talk outside of the mess. </font></span><span style="font-size: large; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">This was a real conversation. It was about 3pm. The ship left the dock.</span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><font size="4">He: Are you back?”</font></span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><font size="4">She: Yeah.</font></span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><font size="4">[Clearly she was back]</font></span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><font size="4">She: Cool. Are you here?</font></span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><font size="4">He: Yeah. </font></span></div><div><font size="4"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;">[Clearly she’s here.]</span></font></div><div><font size="4"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;">I don’t know about them, but I felt awkward. :)</span></font></div>Michehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11753606427918767795noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3126523526533435371.post-26210314819069628822018-12-03T09:09:00.001-05:002018-12-05T05:56:50.409-05:00Lieutenant Commander’s Log # 4<font size="4">The 3 weeks on the ‘Color Line Magic’ ship went rather quickly. I recalled liking ‘Color Line Magic’ more than the sister ship, ‘Color Line Fantasy’, but I didn’t exactly remember the details of why. It’s been a year since my last contract. It took only a day to be reminded of the details. I’ll elaborate later. </font><div><font size="4">There were a few familiar faces. The ships entertainment coordinator is quite animated and fun. The entertainers are usually asked to board the ship around 10am, and to meet in the Cabaret Lounge. There, you’ll meet the coordinator and given instructions. Sound check is around 1pm. The rooms are available after 2pm. The rooms may or may not be cleaned and ready for full entry. “The rooms will be cleaned between 2pm and 7pm.” Showtime is 7:40pm. </font></div><div><font size="4">And of course, someone from the cleaning crew will show up 7:00 when you’ve given up waiting and decide to take a shower and ‘what not’ to get ready for the show. [Knock knock] dripping from the shower. You open the door. “I’m here to clean your room.” “I’m getting ready for my show, can you give me 10mins?” I thought 10mins was generous on my part. “I don’t have 10 mins.” Now I’m grumbling to myself. “Ok, 5mins.” He walks away. I’m out in 5 mins. First day, that was annoying.</font></div><div><font size="4"><br></font></div><div><font size="4">Teaching first time Color Line musician, Aurel, the ropes was fun. But there were a few things I failed to remember. “Huh, I thought laundry was on the 5th floor.”</font></div><div><font size="4"><br></font></div><div><font size="4">Since the majority of the crew are Norwegians, every other day when the ship docks in Oslo, crew members are either leaving for a 1 or 2 week break or arriving on the ship from their break. I’m always wondering if someone I know will arrive. Indeed, one such friend did arrive. She works in the clothing shop. It didn’t take her long to add to her list of outrageous stories. Like on her first night back, a guy walks in the store threatening to buy something, then he dropped his pants in front of her, exposing everything. She’s not the squeamish type. “I’ve seen it all before.” She mentioned that inebriated men often will try out clothes in the dressing areas, stripping down to nothing, while leaving the curtain open or half open in the full view of their hardware. Or software. The old ladies feign being disgusted. Another guy kisses her hand and then gets back-handed by his wife. My friend’s a character. I’ve noticed how men seem to flock to her, not because she’s sexy, but because, in my observation, she has an old school understanding of men. She makes them feel like a man instead of a male. She has a Zsa Zsa Gabor thing about her. She’s very sweet.</font></div><div><font size="4"><br></font></div><div><font size="4">I personally don’t feel like the entertainers are treated well in the bar. It bugs me that I can only get a glass of water if no one is in the room. You know, we’re only the one’s who’s entertaining those who care, and I’m singing 5 sets a night, 7 seven days a week for 6 weeks per average contract. Sure I can bring my own water, but it’s the principle. Yeah, I bring my own water now.</font></div><div><font size="4"><br></font></div><div><font size="4">On a positive note, the staff in bar have expressed a sincere liking to what Aurel and I are doing. They were surprised and disappointed that our contract was only for three weeks before our heading over to the other ship for 5 weeks. “Give me some water, I’ll come back.” One of the highlights and the reason why we may have been scheduled for such an odd schedule this time of year could be because the owner’s son wanted me there for his Christmas party. I played for his gathering last year. I’m speculating. Last year, he pulled me aside and said many many nice things. The top brass never does that, because, “That’s what we pay you for.” That was a real surprise. This year, I recognized the whole gang. All dressed with class and elegance. Most clamored around the piano. They made it clear their appreciation for what I do, they were also equally impressed and charmed by Aurel. Turns out, the owner’s son is a jazz pianist himself. It was a fun weekend. With descriptions like “World class.” I mean... I was happy and humbled. Unfortunately, “World class” can’t get you a glass of water these days. :)</font></div><div><font size="4"><br></font></div><div><font size="4">Now to the next ship, Color Line Fantasy. Things got off to a rough start. I mean, day 1. No one to greet us. We have to track down the sound man. </font></div><div><font size="4">I admit, I find Color Line Magic to be a friendlier, less strict environment. In my earlier posts, I praised their ‘state of the art’ sound system and being extremely pleased with the monitors. That’s all changed. On both ships. Color Line Magic now uses an old Bose system. It’s terrible. The Bose system is ok for close proximity gigs. But it’s hardly high quality. I couldn’t even get a monitor wedge. I was not a happy camper as it would take a lot skill and thought not to damage my voice because I can’t hear myself as any singer should. Now why aren’t they using their ‘state of the art’ system? Probably because people complain that they can’t hear themselves talk. “Don’t give the musicians water. That will teach em.” </font></div><div><font size="4"><br></font></div><div><font size="4">I survived, but it was more work than it should have been. I was hoping Color Line Fantasy would be better. From the outset it appeared to be better. No Bose system. However it was worse. While they did use the quality house system, the ceiling monitor was far from where I needed it to be. This wouldn’t be a problem if they could turn up the volume. But no... I pleaded for a monitor wedge, which can effect to overall sound if the monitor is too loud or loud enough to please a singer. Reluctantly they gave me a wedge. It’s almost useless as they won’t turn it up to where I want it. Need it? You can only hear yourself when the room half full or less. </font></div><div><font size="4">During the sound check, the club manager came running over to us and indignantly demanded us to turn it down. If a room is empty, normal, reasonable volumes will seem louder than what it would be if even a few people are in the room. Apparently, all of his experience (of over 40 years probably.) didn’t teach him this. The sound man encouraged us to ignore him and continue. The winds were out of my sails. We haven’t even started the gig yet. AND get this. The bar staff have decibel meters, ready to throw you in the brig if you play even a little over the meter. 5 weeks huh?</font></div><div><font size="4"><br></font></div><div><font size="4">Finally after the sound check, we could head to our rooms. Aurel and I were both tired. What we experienced next was a shock to humanity. :)</font></div><div><font size="4">My room was so nasty, it was hard to believe that someone could do this, knowing someone will be next in that room to observe it. Dirty dishes they didn’t return to the mess. Dirty towels, scattered about on the floor and in the bathroom. There were dirty towels under the bed. I couldn’t believe it. </font></div><div><font size="4">I never looked in the toilet, but I was told by the staff cleaner (a very nice gentleman from Colombia), that I was lucky not to have seen what they left in it. Aurel’s room was almost as bad. They left a dozen or so dirty dishes in his room. Aurel, not as passive as I can be, took action. He took pictures and reported it. Eventually, I left my room, walk down the corridor passing 5 doors, found the closet with room supplies grabbed a bag, came back to my room and stuffed it with 15 dirty towels that were all scattered on the floor and under the bed. </font></div><div><font size="4"><br></font></div><div><font size="4">We musicians are largely responsible for all the rules and regulations we despise. Some joker left an empty bottle of vodka in his room. Probably the alien that was in my room. We are not allowed to have alcohol... Day 1 was brutal. Let me stop. I’m thirsty.</font></div>Michehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11753606427918767795noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3126523526533435371.post-38745682837104511782018-11-25T07:19:00.001-05:002018-11-25T10:32:02.013-05:00Lieutenant Commander’s Log #3<font size="4"><br></font><div><font size="4">So how would I compare the Silja Cruise to the Color Line Cruise? That’s tough. They both have things I like and things I don’t prefer. </font></div><div><font size="4">The band rooms on Silja are a lot nicer. I like how there are bed covers for the twin size beds. So even if the sheets are all messed up, just throw the bed cover over it and PRESTO, nice bed. Color Line has that elongated pillow-looking bed cover, that no matter how hard you try, it’s always wrinkled up and messy. I like having my room in order, so it bothers me to have a messy looking room. Of course, only the cleaning staff will ever see the room and the ‘room inspectors.’ But that’s me. </font></div><div><font size="4"><br></font></div><div><font size="4">The Food? I was much happier with the crew food on Silja. I admit, I ate salads most of the time. But it was nice to see pasta and rice almost regularly instead of potatoes everyday and they regularly had soup. Believe me, I would have been happy to serve myself two servings of rice or pasta with a little gravy of whatever the meat of the day was. But I never eat like that on the ship. Home sometimes. But never while on the ship. I’d rather have need of a life jacket in the water instead of being able to float without one. </font></div><div><font size="4">On Color Line, I don’t do salads much because I don’t care for leafy lettuce with stems. It’s like having a built-in tooth pick. I like gambling with deadly Romaine Lettuce. You really appreciate life if you survive the serving. I also eat sandwiches more on Color Line because the selection spread is nicely layed out and mayo is easy to find. Mayo on Silja was too much work to find, no one knew what I was talking about. To hell with processed foods.</font></div><div><font size="4"><br></font></div><div><font size="4">Also on Color Line, it was so nice getting to see some familiar faces and others who after 3 years of working on the ship, can’t look at you in eyes or face and say “Hi hi.” I find the Portuguese personal to be the nicest. They smile and they actually will talk directly to me. After weeks of living in almost isolation, you really appreciate these little things.</font></div><div><font size="4"> </font></div><div><font size="4">I often think of Star Trek when I’m on the ship. I recall that Gene Roddenberry wanted the enterprise to display diversity. Diversity is a nice thing to “see”, but there’s another side to it. There are cultures, ethnicities, etc, that will never like each other. Never. But they are civil towards each other. Don’t let Romanians and Bulgarians spend much time talking about their history. It can get hostile. I’ve witnessed it. However, I was quite impressed at how much they knew about each other’s history. Most Americans seem to have lengthy opinions but don’t know much about their own history. Yet, they speak with authority. Ah... the privileged.</font></div><div><font size="4"><br></font></div><div><font size="4">I have one more week on this ship (Color Line Magic), then it’s six weeks on the sister ship (Color Line Fantasy). </font></div><div><font size="4"><br></font></div><div><font size="4"><br></font></div><div><font size="4"><br></font></div><div><font size="4"><br></font></div>Michehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11753606427918767795noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3126523526533435371.post-59262779231640657082018-11-18T06:49:00.001-05:002018-11-18T11:47:42.875-05:00Lieutenant’s Commanders Log #2I’m on the Oslo-Kiel ship now. I would have thought that I’d have made a few blog entries before leaving Stockholm-Finland, but I guess one has to be in the mood. And to be honest, when I noticed how few people read the first blog, it lessened my enthusiasm. But here I am writing because I LOVE writing. Ha, don’t believe that crap. I’m bored as heck. :)<br />
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">I think Political Correctness has made deceivers and liars out of everyone. We now politely judge no one, with a smile, while thinking, “I can’t believe that fat bastard just ordered three ‘Whoppers’ with cheese, a # 5 and a Slurpee.”</span></div>
<div>
<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">If you’re a world traveler, there are things you can’t help but notice in people. For example, physical traits, temperaments, tardiness, etc. Although I keep my distance from people, they do fascinate me upon observation. I’ve been that way since I was a kid.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">I mentioned that on the Silja ship, the band plays on the promenade as the passengers stroll in. You see everyone and they see you. I’m not on a stage, I’m on the floor, so people literally walk by me. Unlike the Swedish, I found that trying to get Finnish folks to smile is a hell of a lot of work, usually in vain. Particularly the women. </span></div>
<div>
<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">I was beginning to take this personally, but as I got to know a few of the shop clerks who are Finnish btw, they informed me that that’s “What we Finns are like.” “We have to get to know you...” They mentioned that because it’s usually cold and cloudy, that lack of sun makes them... Finnish. :) Hmmm. Well if that’s the case, I’d never knock on an Eskimo’s igloo and ask to borrow some sugar. </span><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Vitamin D is a required supplement in Finland. One of the clerks recommended a book, “Xenophobes Guide To The Finns”. That should be a good read. :)</span></div>
<div>
<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">I was chatting with a gentleman who was born in Finland but was raised in Stockholm. He recalled as a kid, returning to Finland only to ask his parents if someone had died. “Why do you ask...” “Everybody looks like a casket exploded.” </span></div>
<div>
<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">There was this one ship worker who cleans the promenade. I’ve crossed her path a few times. She always had this blank look on her face. I decided to say hello. “Hi you.” “She looked at me with that blank look, said “Hi hi” and proceeded with her work. She had an unassuming presence and well... I wouldn’t describe her as pretty. But I was determined to try to get her to open up, just a little. We met in the mess one day, just the two of us were there. I’m not sure what I said, maybe it was, ”Hey baaaaby you shoooo rock the dust mop.” And behold, she smiled and she became unquestionably pretty. She proceeded to ask me questions, I was totally unprepared. Down in the mess I never sit with the acquaintances I’ve made. I figure they want and need their few moments of food and relaxation. I didn’t want to take up much of her time, but she kept talking. I was actually grateful. I measure a friendship by people who actually talk ‘to and with’ you. </span></div>
<div>
<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Now that was a sense of accomplishment. Shockingly, the next time I saw her, I had to start from scratch. I was so confused. “Hi, remember me? We were in the mess. We sort of talked...” Blank look. </span></div>
<div>
<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">There’s much more to say on the subject, but I’ll talk about that later.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;">Once again, observing people, it was hard not to notice a woman in a striking black dress with gold lacings and a rather large bottom. She sat near the band and was clearly enjoying the music. During a break I sat next to her and said, ”Well look at you. What pretty a dress.” She didn’t speak English, but she understood what I had said. I suppose her lack of English might have been a good thing. </span></div>
<div>
<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;">The next day, I thought I saw her again. Same dress, and that large bottom. But it wasn’t her. </span></div>
<div>
<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;">Hmmmm. A couple of days passed and BEHOLD two different ladies with the same dress and rather large bottoms. What are the chances? I later learned that that is the attire of the Finnish Gypsies. The dresses are like small petticoats. Yes. We live and learn. </span><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;"> </span></div>
<div>
<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"> </span></div>
<div>
<div>
<img alt="" id="id_75b3_2179_efd9_2314" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmofz3jMx0VxtNTSbw6pN7pkUcqJPx19yEhVyMfcxbOz3gLZl5XVaWP3LKLCoToBJN1m1n0GnvP5sRNGdR_-Bj07yQUZT3FHVW3EhZHoIW_T036VU-lK60O7h3vjS4ERsEC9ZsPO6dUso/s5000/%255BUNSET%255D" style="height: auto; width: 421px;" title="" tooltip="" /></div>
</div>
<br />Michehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11753606427918767795noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3126523526533435371.post-42421766727140481882018-11-01T03:45:00.001-04:002018-11-01T23:57:17.311-04:00Lieutenant Commander’s Log # 1<div><div><img id="id_5564_19cd_eba2_5775" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrq3HmSMitXieFUFVTAL1WijfzpNU0PjDvhPxFyQklCoQdNync5U5vsW08UlpHOYf8mvceFekbW9EFUrYVJE_S1UoBpF5IN_XmF53Wyar_J0jZBYS6Z14OHVRod_NEJT5KuRRMAqQZyUo/s5000/%255BUNSET%255D" alt="" title="" tooltip="" style="width: 236px; height: auto;"> <span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><font size="4">Well, it’s taken me long enough to get around to writing this blog. Yes, I’m back on a cruise ship in Europe. This time, in addition to my usual adventures in Oslo, Norway and Kiel, Germany, I’ll be spending an extra month on a different ship, ‘Silja Line’, a Finnish ship that travels back and forth from Stockholm to Helsinki. </font></span></div><div><font size="4"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">I’m singing and playing with a trio. The pianist is someone new to the trio cruise band line up, although not new to working on cruise ships. Pianist Aurel Dragalina, spent 15 years as a band director on the </span><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Royal Caribbean Cruise line. Sadly, the new Caribbean Cruise Line insurance policy now has strict rules about weight etc, even type 2 diabetics will not be employed. I think that’s what put the stop to my working for them. </span><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">After 15 years, Aurel was let go due to being overweight. </span></font></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><font size="4"><br></font></span></div><div><font size="4"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">About the band... Aurel is from Romania. Aurel was recommended by another Romanian pianist, my friend, the original ship trio pianist Doru Apreotesei.</span><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"> If Doru says he’s good, that’s all I need to know, and of course he’s VERY good. And then there’s the world traveling maestro, bassist, Jair Rohm Parker. We’ve played many ‘Color Line’ shows together. </span></font></div><div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><font size="4">When I first started doing these cruise ship gigs, I was overwhelmed by ALL the rules and how easy it is for some over zealous power holder to fire you just to confirm their position. The rules on the “Silja” ship is similar to Color Line, BUT different. For example, on Color Line you always have to wear your name ID. On Silja you have to wear your ID card whenever you’re in the mess, but you’re not permitted to wear it anywhere else. They want you to look like a passenger. “Hey, ain’t you one of those black guys in the band?” “No. Not at the moment.” Now this doesn’t seem like too big a deal until someone sees you with or without your ID in an inopportune time. You’ll get chewed out and you’re saying to yourself, “What’s with the indignation?” </font></span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><font size="4">Instead of performing in a lounge, on Silja, the trio performs on the promenade in view of everyone boarding and or strolling the promenade. We can see everyone and everyone can see us. It’s full exposure, instead of being tucked away in a corner of a lounge where people have to make an effort to see you and of course they’re not there to see you but socialize and occasionally notice that there’s a live band. </font></span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><font size="4">The ‘Silja’ crew seems friendlier and less stressed than the other ship. </font></span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><font size="4"><br></font></span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><font size="4">There seems to be more dining options on Silja. Color Line has a Cinema. There’s no Cinema on Silja. Color Line’s theater and productions are a bit larger. However, the quality of the entertainment is top notch on both ships. Both ships have casinos. </font></span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><font size="4">One of the things that really stick out on Silja is the large number of couples with children. There’s a whole floor just for children. </font></span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><font size="4">Apparently, the older kids are just as addicted to the slot machines as their grand parents. </font></span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><font size="4"><br></font></span></div><div><div></div></div></div></div><font size="4">Next: The Finnish and the finish.</font>Michehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11753606427918767795noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3126523526533435371.post-9743778554599946102017-04-25T08:11:00.001-04:002017-04-25T12:04:29.188-04:00Lieutenant's Log #18<font face="Georgia" size="4">Lieutenant's Log #18</font><div><font face="Georgia" size="4">April 25, 2017</font></div><div><font face="Georgia" size="4"><br></font></div><div><font face="Georgia" size="4"><br></font></div><div><font face="Georgia" size="4">It's hard to believe that 9 weeks have passed with one more week to go. I'm feeling numb. Week 7 was the most difficult. I was feeling anxious for some reason. </font></div><div><font face="Georgia" size="4"><br></font></div><div><font face="Georgia" size="4">I've changed my eating habits. Since I wasn't all that nuts about the food anyway, I realized that I was quite happy eating salads. Lunch (my breakfast) is the meal that I might indulge in something solid. I was also curious about my singing after eating something light before performing. It dawned on me that I was used to singing later in the evening, having time for the food to digest... but I'm singing earlier shows these days. Anyway I've notice less phlegm for sure. </font></div><div><font face="Georgia" size="4">So for me it's a late breakfast (today I had half a ham sandwich), a light salad and a piece of bread before the show and a bigger salad with pieces of chicken after the show.</font></div><div><font face="Georgia" size="4"><br></font></div><div><font face="Georgia" size="4">--------</font></div><div><font face="Georgia" size="4"><br></font></div><div><font face="Georgia" size="4">I've been practicing my guitar in the day, much like the old days. Since I don't live on Facebook like I used to, I can focus better. I'm increasingly inspired listening to Doru night after night. We're a great team. It's music first. We both have the noble ability to listen, no inflated egos that's usually bigger than one's actual talent. </font></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><font face="Georgia" size="4">You'd be surprise how many musicians don't listen to what's going on around them. They just play their part and stop when they're done. Oh the stories... </font></span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><font face="Georgia" size="4">I'd imagine most cover bands really need an audience to draw inspiration from, because playing the same things, same solos night after night has to bore you after a while. One might argue that a jazz band is a cover band as well. However, the</font></span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><font face="Georgia" size="4">skilled players are rarely musically predictable. Every night something's different and that's the thrill.</font></span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><font face="Georgia" size="4"><br></font></span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><font face="Georgia" size="4">--------</font></span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><font face="Georgia" size="4"><br></font></span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><font face="Georgia" size="4">Although I'd never say it myself, more than a few artists have described the cruise ship experience as "being in prison." It's not an easy life for an artist. As an artist you're mostly ignored and rarely treated with simply Kindergarten courtesy. As a staffer, true, it's isolated. Not having full internet is cruel. The food is ok. (It was great on my last trip.) Making friends is almost pointless. No one has time. And the little free time one might have, would rather be spent sleeping or smoking cigarettes. Extroverts have an advantage. Introverts are doomed, especially old introverts. "Hey, someone ought to talk to that lonely old man." "No way, he looks mean." I do think it's interesting that most of the staff work two weeks on and then two weeks off year round, however artists on the other hand, are on the ship for months at a time and there's not even a message parlor on board. How cruel is that? Of course I've never asked. Maybe there's some fortnightly wenches on the 13th floor. :)</font></span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><font face="Georgia" size="4"><br></font></span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><font face="Georgia" size="4">--------</font></span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><font face="Georgia" size="4"><br></font></span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><font face="Georgia" size="4">Would I do it again? This may surprise you, but yes. Providing it's financially 'sensible'. As I've said before, it's work. I'd consider other options. But there aren't that many, that I can see. </font></span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><font face="Georgia" size="4">Folks have mostly given up on music, they don't think they have, but they have. An artist can make a living if people buy their music. Few people buy music these days. An artist can make a living if people come to see 'them' perform. People don't go out to see 'them', if they do go out, it's to drink. </font></span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><font face="Georgia" size="4">Folks are happy to be in the comfort of their homes and vote for faux artists to be the next star on some TV show. Blah blah blah. </font></span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><font face="Georgia" size="4">Yes, I'd play on a cruise ship again. </font></span></div><div><font face="Georgia" size="4"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"> </span> </font></div><div><font face="Georgia" size="4"> </font></div>Michehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11753606427918767795noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3126523526533435371.post-1763835384690152702017-04-14T08:03:00.001-04:002017-04-14T11:25:52.668-04:00Lieutenant's Log #17<font face="Georgia" size="4">April 14, 2017</font><div><font face="Georgia" size="4">Lieutenant's Log #17</font></div><div><font face="Georgia" size="4"><br></font></div><div><font face="Georgia" size="4"><br></font></div><div><font face="Georgia" size="4">I got up and out to go for an Oslo walk, but as soon as I exited the terminal, my body tugged at me. "Hey buddy, it's too cold and damp. I'd turn around if I's was you." </font></div><div><font face="Georgia" size="4">I decided to listen to my body and headed back to the ship.</font></div><div><font face="Georgia" size="4"><br></font></div><div><font face="Georgia" size="4">---------</font></div><div><font face="Georgia" size="4"><br></font></div><div><font face="Georgia" size="4">It's no surprise that each entertainment venue on the ship has it's own unique experiences. Heading back to the ship in the terminal there was a troubadour (solo/singer songwriter) performing. Some of the artists on the ship perform at several locations in their daily routine. He was supplied with a nice PA system. I was impressed at the relentless tips he was receiving. He probably makes a fortune playing in the terminal. Later he'll be playing in the 'Donkey Pub.' </font></div><div><font face="Georgia" size="4">The Pub has acoustic singerwriters in the afternoon, and louder acts in the evening. That's where King James (aka Alabama) does his thing along with a keyboardist. Interestingly, they don't do full bands in the pub. It's usually a duo or single artist acts with drum machines and prerecorded tracks. These acts are very good at what they do. The large bands play in the Disco Room. No doubt about it, the 'Donkey Pub' and the 'Monkey Pub' (as it's named on the other ship) are the real money makers for the ship. It's where the most beer and alcohol is consumed. Where there's alcohol, there's drunk women flashing their breast and other things for a willing accessory to partake in. "Are you married big boy?" "Yeah, well a lot of good that's doing me these days." </font></div><div><font face="Georgia" size="4">Indeed, the musicians that play in the Pub and the Disco room do really well in tits and tips.</font></div><div><span style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: large;"><br></span></div><div><span style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: large;">The Cosmopolitan Room or Manhattan Room where I play (as it's called on the other ship), is a different world. An older clientele. Occasionally folks are engaged in the music. Mostly it's where the blue-bloods gather and a few jazz buffs. The women don't flash, but I've had plenty of them blow kisses at me. Seems to me that the mating call in the pub is the smell of beer. In the Cosmopolitan room it's the smell of money. No tips. No tits. </span></div><div><font face="Georgia" size="4"><br></font></div><div><font face="Georgia" size="4"><br></font></div><div><font face="Georgia" size="4"><br></font></div><div><font face="Georgia" size="4"><br></font></div>Michehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11753606427918767795noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3126523526533435371.post-66714575361076309352017-04-12T09:42:00.001-04:002017-04-12T11:50:22.780-04:00Lieutenant's Log #16<font face="Georgia" size="4">April 12, 2017</font><div><font face="Georgia" size="4">Lieutenant's Log #16</font></div><div><font face="Georgia" size="4"><br></font></div><div><font face="Georgia" size="4">It's already been a week on "Color Fantasy" with 3 more weeks to go. The other ship is "Color Magic." Color Fantasy is actually the older of the two cruise ships. </font><span style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: large;">They're practically identical. The folks on this ship seem friendlier, less stressed or something. </span></div><div><span style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: large;"><br></span></div><div><span style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: large;">My room is even smaller than the previous room, but I got creative with arrranging my clothes and being able to put my large suit case on one side of the clothes closet to allow for more floor space. Unlike my other rooom, I don't have access to using the space under the bed because it's blocked by a desk. However, I'm satisfied. </span></div><div><span style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: large;"><br></span></div><div><span style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: large;">-------</span></div><div><span style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: large;"><br></span></div><div><span style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: large;">One day of voice rest helped a lot. However, the dry heat in my current room is giving me other voice issues. A humidifier would be a good idea, but it's pointless to buy one, except if there's money to burn and there isn't. I don't have the space to take it home with me. I'd have to throw it away or give it away. And sadly, the heating vent in my room doesn't allow me the ole wet towel trick. Regarding phlegm, I guess I should try vinegar. Blehhhh...</span></div><div><font face="Georgia" size="4"><br></font></div><div><font face="Georgia" size="4">------------ </font></div><div><font face="Georgia" size="4"><br></font></div><div><font face="Georgia" size="4">Since the climate is warming up, I've been taking daily walks in both Kiel and Oslo. It was always too chilly in Oslo. I recall my British friend Simon, who played in the pub on this ship a few years ago, preferred the Oslo walks. "They're more peaceful." He's right. They're very peaceful.</font></div><div><font face="Georgia" size="4"><br></font></div><div><font face="Georgia" size="4">---------</font></div><div><font face="Georgia" size="4"><br></font></div><div><font face="Georgia" size="4">Yesterday was a day to remember. I had noticed that after six weeks, "Alabama's" hair was as nicely groomed as it was when I first met him. I asked, "Do you cut your own hair?" "No man, these Turkish dudes take care of me. Next time we're in Kiel, I'll take you around and show you some things. A walk on the wild side. We'll have a drink." </font></div><div><font face="Georgia" size="4"><br></font></div><div><font face="Georgia" size="4">So about Alabama's hair... Imagine a tall black dude with a natural grey Mohawk with pineapple sides, sporting white eye glasses. An artist for sure. Alabama is professionally known as "King James." Soul, Rnb, Sex, Drugs and Rock and Roll. (He's long ago given up the hard stuff.) </font></div><div><font face="Georgia" size="4">We met on the other other ship. I heard someone shout out, "Hey NY!" He was referring to me. There was also another black guy, a classical pianist from New Orleans. We were since referred to as Alabama, NY and Nawlins. </font><span style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: large;"> </span></div><div><span style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: large;">Alabama is an ENORMOUSLY talented vocalist, guitarist. He started out on the "Chitlin Circuit" when he was twelve. He's lived and still plays all over the world.</span></div><div><font face="Georgia" size="4"><br></font></div><div><font face="Georgia" size="4">Alabama's personality is almost as big as he is. In his presence, one has to default to either straight-man or sidekick. I was straddling both roles. He took me to this one little bar. The place felt like we had no business being there. But again, everyone defaulted to being straight-men and sidekicks. I didn't mention that I'm not a beer drinker, but sidekicks don't complain. I had a beer and listened to one outrageous story after another. It wasn't like he was trying to be discreet, I'm sure the whole bar could hear our conversation. Doing gigs for and befriending a grand wizard of the KKK was particularly high on the, "You're Kidding Me" list. I really wish I could share the details of our day and the stories, but dear Alabama is not dead yet. You'll have to wait. :) </font></div><div><font face="Georgia" size="4"><br></font></div><div><font face="Georgia" size="4">Then he took me a barbershop to get a haircut. I had no idea that was part of his plan. "Take care of my friend here." The owner of the shop is a 15 year friend of his and the only one in the shop who could speak English. He translated, "Even it and take a little off."</font></div><div><font face="Georgia" size="4">I must say, the guy cutting my hair was a real artist. I could see a scimitar hanging on the wall, so I wasn't going to complain about anything. :) Seriously, it's the best haircut I've ever had. Alabama's treat. COOL!</font></div><div><font face="Georgia" size="4">We had to rush back to the ship. It was a great day. </font></div><div><font face="Georgia" size="4"><br></font></div><div><font face="Georgia" size="4"> </font></div>Michehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11753606427918767795noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3126523526533435371.post-78998149573603441582017-03-31T12:43:00.001-04:002017-03-31T19:51:16.981-04:00Lieutenant's Log # 15<div>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. </div><div><br></div><div>----------</div><div><br></div><div>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. </div><div>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 <span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">have no idea what his problem is.</span></div><div>Maybe I'll throw on a weave and dump my face in some pancake batter. </div><div>There. Now I feel better. Ah...</div><div><br></div><div><br></div><br>Michehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11753606427918767795noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3126523526533435371.post-53825297812036632702017-03-27T08:42:00.001-04:002017-03-28T12:45:12.540-04:00 Lieutenant's Log #14<div><span style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: large;">March 27, 2017</span></div><div><font face="Georgia" size="4"><br></font></div><div><font face="Georgia" size="4">Lieutenant's Log #14</font></div><div><font face="Georgia" size="4"><br></font></div><div><font face="Georgia" size="4">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. </font></div><div><font face="Georgia" size="4">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. </font></div><div><font face="Georgia" size="4"><br></font></div><div><font face="Georgia" size="4">----------</font></div><div><font face="Georgia" size="4"><br></font></div><div><font face="Georgia" size="4">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. </font></div><div><font face="Georgia" size="4"><br></font></div><div><font face="Georgia" size="4">---------</font></div><div><font face="Georgia" size="4"><br></font></div><div><font face="Georgia" size="4">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.</font></div><div><font face="Georgia" size="4">Guys, if you want to kiss me, shave. </font></div><div><font face="Georgia" size="4"><br></font></div><div><br></div>Michehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11753606427918767795noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3126523526533435371.post-3451370674182147582017-03-22T06:57:00.001-04:002017-03-22T08:32:43.065-04:00 Lieutenant's Log #13<font face="Georgia" size="5"> March 21, 2017</font><div><font face="Georgia" size="5"><br></font></div><div><font face="Georgia" size="5">Lieutenant's Log #13</font></div><div><font face="Georgia" size="5"><br></font></div><div><font face="Georgia" size="5"><br></font></div><div><font face="Georgia" size="5">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. </font></div><div><font face="Georgia" size="5">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.</font></div><div><font face="Georgia" size="5">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. </font></div><div><font face="Georgia" size="5"><br></font></div><div><font face="Georgia" size="5">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.</font></div><div><font face="Georgia" size="5"><br></font></div><div><font face="Georgia" size="5">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. </font></div><div><br></div><div><font face="Georgia" size="5">As the fellow cruise ship musician veteran put it, "The ____'s fucked it up for everybody." </font><span style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: x-large;">He attributed all the fiascos to a particular group.</span><span style="font-family: Georgia;"><font size="5"> </font></span><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><font face="Georgia"><font size="5">No, I won't name the group. Some of my best friends are _____'s</font>. </font></span></div><div><span style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: x-large;">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:</span></div><div><font face="Georgia" size="5">Veteran: Do you know why the crime rate is so low in Denmark?</font></div><div><font face="Georgia" size="5">Me: No. Why?</font></div><div><font face="Georgia" size="5">Veteran: Because they don't have a lot of black people.</font></div><div><font face="Georgia" size="5">Me: ???????</font></div><div><font face="Georgia" size="5">Veteran: ..........</font></div><div><font face="Georgia" size="5">Me: Uhhhh... So what do the hot dogs taste like in Denmark?</font></div><div><font face="Georgia" size="5"><br></font></div><div><font face="Georgia" size="5">Speaking of Brats, I'm hungry.</font></div><div><font face="Georgia" size="5"> </font></div><div><font face="Georgia" size="5"><br></font></div>Michehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11753606427918767795noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3126523526533435371.post-7174874416462361742017-03-12T13:46:00.001-04:002017-03-13T05:36:19.277-04:00Lieutenant's Log #12<font face="Georgia" size="5">March 12, 2017</font><div><font face="Georgia" size="5"><br></font></div><div><font face="Georgia" size="5">Lieutenant's Log #12</font></div><div><font face="Georgia" size="5"><br></font></div><div><font face="Georgia" size="5"><br></font></div><div><font face="Georgia" size="5">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. </font></div><div><font face="Georgia" size="5">These are the times that separate inflated egos from maturity. These are times that define what a professional is. </font></div><div><font face="Georgia" size="5">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. </font></div><div><font face="Georgia" size="5">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.</font></div><div><font face="Georgia" size="5">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. </font></div><div><font face="Georgia" size="5">Given a choice, I'd rather do this, than work at McDonald's. </font></div><div><font face="Georgia" size="5"><br></font></div><div><font face="Georgia" size="5">----------------</font></div><div><font face="Georgia" size="5"><br></font></div><div><font face="Georgia" size="5">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. </font></div><div><font face="Georgia" size="5">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".</font></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><font size="5" face="Georgia">Oh, there's only one break for the contracted 10 week gig. And only because we have to change ships. </font></span></div><div><font face="Georgia" size="5"><br></font></div><div><font face="Georgia" size="5">----------</font></div><div><font face="Georgia" size="5"><br></font></div><div><br></div><div><font face="Georgia" size="5"><br></font></div><div><font face="Georgia" size="5"><br></font></div>Michehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11753606427918767795noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3126523526533435371.post-45023855738878895062017-03-06T06:55:00.001-05:002017-03-06T10:16:56.212-05:00 Lieutenant's Log #11<font face="Georgia" size="5">March 6, 2017</font><div><font face="Georgia" size="5"><br></font></div><div><font face="Georgia" size="5">Lieutenant's Log #11</font></div><div><font face="Georgia" size="5"><br></font></div><div><img id="id_c46_9729_9d06_645f" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpQJ5BZeZZ5ghshfWqECXTNjryNYDewwRzHC9nZtsSEDl8s8Pv3lswegZu4ypoY79JHacO35moYdTEXko-hepS_fjLVvNQAhfAkgvVODa_bTnqaGm_DHy_8VPEAWlcL3z2NZMLhometTQ/" alt="" title="" tooltip="" style="width: 262px; height: auto;"> <font face="Georgia" size="5"><br></font></div><div><font face="Georgia" size="5"><br></font></div><div><font face="Georgia" size="5">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. </font></div><div><font face="Georgia" size="5"><br></font></div><div><font face="Georgia" size="5"> --------</font></div><div><font face="Georgia" size="5"><br></font></div><div><font face="Georgia" size="5">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.</font></div><div><font face="Georgia" size="5"><br></font></div><div><font face="Georgia" size="5">I'm not a picky carnivore. I tolerate what's in front of me in small proportions. </font></div><div><span style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: x-large;">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. </span></div><div><span style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: x-large;">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 </span><span style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: x-large;">Moose? Norwegian Yeti? I had no idea I'd been consuming these animals. I'll start asking from now on. </span></div><div><span style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: x-large;"><br></span></div><div><span style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: x-large;">-----------</span></div><div><span style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: x-large;"> </span></div><div><font face="Georgia" size="5">It's been an interesting couple of days on the ship. Cowboys and Cowgals everywhere. </font></div><div><font face="Georgia" size="5">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. </font><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><font size="5" face="Georgia">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..." </font></span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><font size="5" face="Georgia">I found this very amusing. I thought that all Norwegians did was drink and eat Yeti.</font></span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><font size="5" face="Georgia"><br></font></span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><font size="5" face="Georgia">-------</font></span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><font size="5" face="Georgia"><br></font></span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><font size="5" face="Georgia"> 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?"</font></span></div>Michehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11753606427918767795noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3126523526533435371.post-26199129601470024042017-03-04T06:19:00.001-05:002017-03-04T07:06:44.602-05:00Lieutenant's Log #10<font face="Georgia" size="4">March 3, 2017</font><div><font face="Georgia" size="4"><br></font></div><div><font face="Georgia" size="4">Lieutenant's Log #10</font></div><div><font face="Georgia" size="4"><br></font></div><div><img id="id_113c_cc87_2e04_b3a0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrcSUjHaB6fFqd3cL-hzquMgErmN2asaHPohIT2dwL9avx0EAIJ8XL_6X8FuqCndZpPh_nCCuDE5vLCPZbTgJDJky6W9oUwyIQRV9S_ZHbNUrbD94zD1jSV2sgwP1NcyVyEYotZS8fCWE/" alt="" title="" tooltip="" style="width: 331px; height: auto;"> <font face="Georgia" size="4"><br></font></div><div><font face="Georgia" size="4">(The Day Room)</font></div><div><font face="Georgia" size="4"><br></font></div><div><font face="Georgia" size="4">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.</font></div><div><font face="Georgia" size="4"><br></font></div><div><font face="Georgia" size="4">---------</font></div><div><font face="Georgia" size="4"><br></font></div><div><font face="Georgia" size="4">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.</font></div><div><font face="Georgia" size="4"><br></font></div><div><font face="Georgia" size="4">---------</font></div><div><font face="Georgia" size="4"><br></font></div><div><font face="Georgia" size="4">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." </font></div><div><font face="Georgia" size="4"><br></font></div><div><font face="Georgia" size="4">--------</font></div><div><font face="Georgia" size="4"><br></font></div><div><font face="Georgia" size="4"><br></font></div><div><font face="Georgia" size="4">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.</font></div>Michehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11753606427918767795noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3126523526533435371.post-43519223427252635342017-02-28T06:39:00.001-05:002017-02-28T07:03:13.658-05:00Lieutenant's Log #9<font face="Georgia" size="4">My plans today have been thwarted. I was looking forward to a stroll in Kiel, making a stop at the pharmacy for glucose tablets and GeloRevoice voice tablets... Apparently I got mixed up. We're not in Kiel today, we're in Oslo. So what's so great about Kiel? As it relates to the ship, in Kiel, the shopping center is in close proximity. You step off the ship and it's straight ahead. It's not so convient in Oslo. Shopping in Oslo requires a bit of a walk and hoping you don't get lost. Oslo is a very attractive city. However, it's unbelievably expensive. Since the ship travels back and forth from Kiel to Oslo, Kiel is where the money is spent. </font><div><font face="Georgia" size="4"><br></font></div><div><font face="Georgia" size="4">----------</font></div><div><font face="Georgia" size="4"><br></font></div><div><font face="Georgia" size="4">Poor Doru (pianist) is very sick with the flu. It's getting around the ship. As Doru puts it, he's now talking like Louis Armstrong. </font></div><div><font face="Georgia" size="4">I've been taking measures to pamper my voice, getting plenty of rest, throat messages, etc. What would the establishment do if I lost my voice? I don't want to find out.</font></div><div><font face="Georgia" size="4">I took a short nap. My room was cooler than I like, but instead of turning up the thermostat I just braved through it and plopped on the bed.</font></div><div><font face="Georgia" size="4"><br></font></div><div><font face="Georgia" size="4">After our second set, I was struck with feeling cold and shivering. I couldn't stop shivering. I was hoping no one would notice. I felt like something was going on. Though it wasn't flu related (in my observation), it was something. I found myself wanting to ask someone to feel my forehead for a fever. This was not as easy as you'd think.. For reasons I can't explain, I refused to ask either of the male band mates to feel my head, preferring instead to ask a female, any female. But there was a risk that asking a woman, "Can you feel my head to see if it's warm?"may have been misunderstood. Then I'd be thrown in the ship jail for lewd behavior. Fortunately, I was able to ask a lady while Doru was present. He was able to explain what I was asking. </font></div><div><font face="Georgia" size="4">This was the longest night yet. I got to my room and went to straight to bed. Shivering. </font></div><div><font face="Georgia" size="4"><br></font></div><div><font face="Georgia" size="4">-------</font></div><div><font face="Georgia" size="4"><br></font></div><div><font face="Georgia" size="4">On the musical front, I couldn't be more thrilled. Playing with Doru is a major honor. I'm learning so much. The thing I love about Doru is, he's not simply a great jazz musician, he's also a classical pianist. He brings both elements to his improv skills. It dawned on me while listen to him that I had left out classical components of the nylon string guitar. What I mean is, there are certain simple voicing's that don't sound good at all on electric or jazz guitars but work very nicely on the nylon string. I'll demonstrate this in a video one of these days. </font></div>Michehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11753606427918767795noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3126523526533435371.post-9796604948512215822017-02-25T12:21:00.001-05:002017-02-25T12:45:33.042-05:00Lieutenant's Log #8<font face="Georgia" size="4">February 25, 2017</font><div><font face="Georgia" size="4"><br></font></div><div><font face="Georgia" size="4">Lieutenant's Log #8</font></div><div><font face="Georgia" size="4"><br></font></div><div><font face="Georgia" size="4"><br></font></div><div><font face="Georgia" size="4">Life feels a bit more isolated than before. The first time I was on the ship was in the months of May and June. The weather was beautiful. Everyday I'd get up and out for a walk. Now I'm here in the month of February to the end of April, so far it's quite cold and grey. Going for a walk is not a desirable consideration. Perhaps the weather will change as we close in to the month of April. </font></div><div><font face="Georgia" size="4"><br></font></div><div><font face="Georgia" size="4">---------</font></div><div><font face="Georgia" size="4"><br></font></div><div><font face="Georgia" size="4">I was always amused that at cheaper hotels or motels you no longer will find a bar of soap and mini bottles of shampoo. Instead, there's this mystery liquid that claims you can use it for body wash, shampoo, hand soap, mouthwash, tooth paste and coffee sweetener. I was surprised to find nicely packaged items in the Kiel Pharmacy making the same claims. Good thing I'm not much of a coffee drinker. I'm guessing the nicer hotels know this mystery liquid fact to be true, that all such items are pretty much made from the same stuff, but recognize that customers will frown upon using a versatile single item, thinking the establishment is cheap and without 'class'. I wonder if I can use it for shaving?</font></div><div><font face="Georgia" size="4"><br></font></div><div><font face="Georgia" size="4">------</font></div><div><font face="Georgia" size="4"><br></font></div><div><font face="Georgia" size="4">Last night as the band started our third set, a striking brunette, tall (6' or close) wearing a black one piece short skirt thingy with a bob style haircut walked up and sat down right next to me as I was singing. When one of the other guys were soloing, she'd start talking to me. Stroking my arms the whole time. This was very unnerving for a lot of reasons. For starters any contact with other humans on the ship is rare. I found that I couldn't bring myself to say to the attractive woman, "Stop stroking me." Then her husband comes up and a sat at the piano next to her. Surprisingly, this didn't stop her behavior, she kept chatting and stroking away. I began to wonder what this could possibly lead to. Then he said, "Black people are the best singers, right?" She stopped stroking. Then I was about to have a stroke. This was an awkward question and I felt under pressure. If I had said no, no doubt, word would've gotten back to National Black Caucus and I'd never be able to enter the US again. So I answered, " Uhhhh, yeah." Then I started singing. "You are the best singer I've ever heard." "So smooth." "What are doing on a ship, singing. You should be a star." Believe it or not, I hear this a lot. I'll just say, I'm grateful. The brunette left briefly. When she returned, she stuffed a note in my jacket along side of my pocket scarf, in front of her husband. I was honestly afraid to read it. I finally got the courage during the break. What a night. </font></div><div><font face="Georgia" size="4"><br></font></div><img id="id_c366_7236_c6d8_91f7" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5rHD2P6Bz2lOs_csbJhkJ7TeNuH6RTNChMKx1TBnWda5SoBiAjK_CJ84mDSnOoz_dzPUCJZTLaao_N9TT7p4SRw3jkQm2nE2vnzeOg096vkJpKCMMcxF3VcPWKqV4kKtf7YxllZJJ8ZQ/" alt="" title="" tooltip="" style="width: 365px; height: auto;"> <div><font face="Georgia" size="4"> </font></div><div><font face="Georgia" size="4"> </font></div><div><font face="Georgia" size="4"><br></font></div><div><font face="Georgia" size="4"><br></font></div>Michehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11753606427918767795noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3126523526533435371.post-36740094595029490102017-02-22T07:23:00.001-05:002017-02-22T12:40:03.395-05:00 Lieutenant's Log #7<div><span style="font-size: large;">February 22, 2017</span></div><div><br></div><div><font size="4">Lieutenant's Log #7</font><br><div><br></div><div><span style="font-size: large;">Most of the staff have a two weeks on and a two weeks off schedule. So daily, folks are coming and going. I'm reminded of certain characters I'd soon avoid. Like this one guy I usually run into in the mess. He looks extremely intense and he never smiles. I'm pretty sure he's a hitman. Man-bun and all. </span><span style="font-size: large;">Which reminds me. There's actually a jail on the ship. Imagine that? Perhaps the hitman has escaped. Again. </span><span style="font-size: large;">And there's an exceptionally beautiful transgender Asian woman. She avoids eye contact and looks like she's VERY pissed, probably at the hitman. </span></div><div><div><font size="4"><br></font><div><div><font size="4">Compared to my last trip, it's helpful to know that making friends is a very difficult option on the ship, except with other musicians and a couple of clowns. And clowns can be dangerous. There's simply no time. Everyone works long and hard days. When they have free time, they sleep or smoke. It should be noted that introverts are very comfortable in these conditions. </font></div><div><font size="4">Again, compared to my last trip, I'm not even trying to make friends, which for an introvert is less stressful. Perhaps I understand the hitman. </font></div><div><div><font size="4"> </font></div></div></div></div><div>----------</div><div><br></div><div><font size="4">I talk a lot about the mess. I failed to mention the "Day Room." That's the staff social gathering room to relax. You can sit in one of those fancy "get a message" chair, they're great, watch a movie in an adjacent room or simply chill on a comfy couch. On my first trip, the Day Room was always occupied, because it was also the only room for staff to access the internet. Now the internet can be access from our cabins as well. Because the internet is available in our rooms, the Day Room isn't as busy. <span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Most used to spend all of their free time in the Day Room hoping to get a connection. Now we wait in our rooms hoping to get a connection.</span> Like before, the internet is the worst, whether on the sea or land. </font></div><div><font size="4"><br></font></div><div><font size="4">------------</font></div><div><font size="4"><br></font></div><font size="4"><img id="id_afb8_206d_c24b_36cf" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_kCmTRrmsJzrvwxJVlkNZRz9vQrK9x9IH_8PqCq5XqpkOX6bwyP7kViNtHDfU9hJOqYE-B_SFt38XiECm3ExUapHZvWgvBiTHRsBPKDUnPxDaGvlpOZsMOqGBHSiL2ON_gy1VpfIcYng/" alt="" title="" tooltip="" style="width: 291px; height: auto;"> </font><div><font size="4">(An early, empty promenade.)</font></div><div><font size="4"><br></font></div><div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><font size="4">Color Line workers are on strike today. Wow! Apparently in politics, there's a labor consideration to hire cheaper workers possibly from the Phillipines and fire the more expensive Norwegian staff (and a few others). So today while in Oslo, a great number of Color Line staffers took a chartered bus to the Oslo capital building to protest from 10am to 1pm. This will delay the ships departure for about an hour. Heaven help the cleaning staff. </font></span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><font size="4">In September, Norway will hold it's elections. We'll see... </font></span></div></div><div><br></div></div></div>Michehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11753606427918767795noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3126523526533435371.post-61335288722883327132017-02-19T04:53:00.001-05:002017-02-19T08:42:35.939-05:00Lieutenant's Log #6<font size="4" face="Georgia"> February 19, 2017</font><div><font size="4" face="Georgia"><br></font><div><font size="4" face="Georgia">Lieutenant's Log #6</font></div><div><font size="4" face="Georgia"><br></font></div></div><div><font size="4" face="Georgia">Two years ago I spent my first two weeks on the ship being sea sick. I was wondering if I'd go through the same thing on this trip. It's been almost a week and no problems. It helps that I avoid looking out of my cabin window. </font></div><div><font size="4" face="Georgia">Last night, the waters were mildly turbulent. It was a reminder that rough seas will likely override my 'not looking out of my cabin window.' </font></div><div><font size="4" face="Georgia"><br></font></div><div><font size="4" face="Georgia">------------</font></div><div><font size="4" face="Georgia"><br></font></div><div><font size="4" face="Georgia"><br></font></div><div><font size="4" face="Georgia">Last night, I thought I'd have to walk the plank for sure. </font></div><div><font size="4" face="Georgia">As it should be, pleasing the guests is the ship's priority. In the lounge, the bar staff are the judges and executioners. </font></div><div><font size="4" face="Georgia">Sometimes they'll walk by our stage area and say something nice or joke and the band will automatically play quieter fearing we did something wrong. </font></div><div><font size="4" face="Georgia"><br></font></div><div><font size="4" face="Georgia">Things were going nicely. When we got to our third set, there was this noise. An intermitting, clapping upper frequency. Like a tambourine jingle or 'Rice Krispies' from hell. It was driving me crazy. It sounded like it was coming right through the speakers. I'm trying to troubleshoot the PA inputs as we're performing, turning down various channels, but the noise persisted. Through the set I'm making fun of the sonic annoyance, "Somebody ought to fire the tambourine player." "On the other hand, at least they're not being paid." Suddenly, a big bar staffer came up to our area, leaned over the piano and said "Is there something wrong?" I guess he was concerned, but the fact that he was there brought the fear of a Nordic Lucifer. We're doomed. Perhaps we can track down the house engineer to fix the problem before our next set. </font></div><div><font size="4" face="Georgia">Turns out that the noise was coming from a table of folks playing poker or backgammon or... with the loudest chips I've ever heard. They were sitting along the side of me. They didn't seem to care how noisy they were in a very quiet setting. Hey, the customer is always right. </font></div><div><font size="4" face="Georgia"><br></font></div><div><font size="4" face="Georgia">If that wasn't bad enough, right across and below the lounge we play in, is a dining area. The dining room closes after the first set. Now I'm hearing a buzzing sound. A very loud buzz. It was like a gigantic bumble bee. So now I'm on the microphone humming along in pitch with the buzz. Finally, after humming in the mic I said, "Somebody ought to swat that thing." I was absolutely sure that the dining room cleaning staff was running a vacuum cleaner. Well apparently, there was a older gentleman who had some condition in which he hums loudly. Miche fails again. "Somebody ought to swat that thing." kept going through my head. This all happened in one evening. How many people can I offend in one night? I felt terrible and concerned that I'd be reported for misconduct. </font></div><div><font size="4" face="Georgia">Other than that, it was a great night.</font></div><div><br></div>Michehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11753606427918767795noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3126523526533435371.post-72769577157902724442017-02-18T06:58:00.001-05:002017-02-18T08:36:00.695-05:00 Lieutenant's Log # 5<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><font size="4">February 18, 2017</font></span><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><font size="4">Lieutenant's Log # 5</font></span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><font size="4"><br></font></span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><font size="4"><br></font></span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><font size="4">It's taken a few days, but I'm starting to get a hang of things. So many rules and you only learn about them after you've broken one. You're measured by every detail. It's the classic old demerit system. "Your room is filthy. You must walk the plank or never board this ship again if you survive." Entering the mess is potential trouble for me. Staff is REQUIRED to wash their hands in the designated sinks before nearing the food area. Why should this be a problem for me? Practically every time I'm having a meal it's after taking a shower or mirror prep before public life, so my hands are already washed before going to the mess. It seems redundant to wash my hands again. </font></span><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><font size="4">So once or twice I've just walked in and scooted right past the sink. I could sense the eyes on me. "What a nasty African American." So for show, I'd slink back to the sink and wash my washed hands. Even if I explained it, no one would believe me.</font></span><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><font size="4"><br></font></span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><font size="4">---------- </font></span></div></div><div><font size="4"><br></font></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;"><font size="4">The crew cuisine on the ship is very meat, fish and potatoes. Oh and vegetables. Sandwiches and salads are available 24/7. Hot meals are served three times a day. I find that I eat less on the ship than when I'm at home, because you don't want to be seen with a heap of food on your plate if you're eating alone. "What a piggy African American and look, he has no vegetables." </font></span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;"><font size="4">Often I don't recognize a dish and after someone kindly describes it to me, I feel obligated to try it. It's a gamble and I've been on a losing streak lately. </font></span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;"><font size="4">Yesterday there was baked Cornish hen. That's what it looked like to me. It looked really good, but I opted for the broiled fish. That's what it looked like to me. I really wanted the chicken but, well... I became self conscious about how I would eat it. Normally at home, I'd use a knife and fork to carve the sides leaving thighs in place. I was never one for ripping the legs off. Even when I was a kid, my mother gave me a hard time about eating chicken because I left too much meat on the bone. I just couldn't deal with the veins and ripping things apart. So I never touched chicken when I was home because I was tired of my mother complaining about it. </font></span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;"><font size="4">The only time I enjoy chicken aside from breast, is when I'm eating KFC in a vehicle. It's usually dark in the car and you can't see what you're ripping apart. As for the innocuous fish, I forked a piece into my mouth only to have a mouth full of bones. I would have been better off dealing with the chicken. </font></span></div><div><font size="4"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;">This evening was a great surprise. My "taste memory" rejoiced in it. It was chipped beef (That's what it looked like to me) and rice. </span></font></div><div><font size="4"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;">The taste brought back childhood memories of waiting in the surplus lines with my uncle to receive free cheese, powered milk and a coffee can size of 'beef stuff'. We'd eat it with rice. I loved it. I haven't had it since. The meal this evening tasted exactly what I remembered. That's what I call a happy meal.</span></font></div><div><font size="4"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;"><br></span></font></div><div><font size="4"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;"> </span></font></div><div><font size="4"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;"><br></span></font></div><div><br></div></div>Michehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11753606427918767795noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3126523526533435371.post-57928614867408744262017-02-17T12:06:00.001-05:002017-02-17T12:06:40.338-05:00Lieutenant's Log # 4<div style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;"><font size="4">February 16, 2017</font></div><div style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;"><font size="4">Lieutenant's Log # 4</font></div><div style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;"><br></div><div style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;"><font size="4"> My first band cruise experience was a trio. Piano, bass and voice. The band was great.</font></div><div style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;"><font size="4">This time the line up is piano, voice and saxophone. I've worked with the pianist (Doru) in the previous line up. No bass? Doru and I were both unnerved at the thought. However Doru, the pro that he is, figured out how to make it work using backing tracks minus piano. It's different, but it works if you know how. So Choko's saxophone was a nice touch. Choko himself is a great musician, and hard not to really like as a person. </font></div><div style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;"><span style="font-size: large;">I'm actually playing a lot more guitar than before, mainly because the ship has upgraded their monitor system. Now the acoustic guitar sounds great. </span></div><div style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br></span></div><div style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;"><span style="font-size: large;">---------</span></div><div style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br></span></div><div style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;"><font size="4">Knowing that I haven't been singing much these days, I was very nervous about my voice, having to sing five sets a night and seven nights a week. Fortunately, I quickly remembered and adjusted to the softer singing style which I actually prefer. It's more musical and lyrical. My voice likes it. I recalled a few tips I learned from the one of the ship's show-group singers two years ago. From baking soda to "TMRG (Voice Solution)", I came prepared. </font></div><div style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;"><font size="4"> </font></div><div style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;"><font size="4">-----------</font></div><div style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;"><font size="4"><br></font></div><div style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;"><img id="id_586f_4f7b_bb4b_285e" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5Lz8q6fAO1LA-UcRk6I3qbhASjjJ_Ox0w2JluIifJ6V8DdvvbDxOGqxYd9G0VlobyrwGgRTUpSjuNlBjvj5i-nnkU6baFQvJfoZVlRxIuYmOWkzBkj-_UR7FEQ6UXLndT0YJiE5DA-ao/" alt="" title="" tooltip="" style="width: 267px; height: auto;"> <font size="4"><br></font></div><div style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;"><font size="4">Last night was awkward. There are chairs placed around the grand piano which puts people up close to the band. Sometimes too close.</font></div><div style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;"><font size="4">It's not so bad when women are seated or couples, but when a gang of men are seated up close, it's ... weird. That was the case last night. </font></div><div style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;"><font size="4">The piano is designed so that drinks can be placed on top of it or on the shelf made around it. I stand on the side of the piano. </font><span style="font-size: large;"> Last night I had my usual water, tea and not so usual, two cookies near me. An adorable Norwegian (I'll call him Sven) became enamored with alcohol and the band. Through the evening he became enamored with me. Eventually, he nabbed a chair right next to me, expressing his love for me, grabbing my hand. I was hoping someone from the staff would intervene. Then Sven helped himself to my glass of water AND my tea.</span></div><div style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;"><span style="font-size: large;">"Would you like a cookie?" "No thank you." Well, it's only the beginning.</span></div><div style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;"><br></div>Michehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11753606427918767795noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3126523526533435371.post-46319097233586670982017-02-16T07:25:00.001-05:002017-02-16T10:50:43.443-05:00Lieutenant's Log # 4<div style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;"><font size="4">February 16, 2017</font></div><div style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;"><font size="4">Lieutenant's Log # 4</font></div><div style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;"><br></div><div style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;"><font size="4"> My first band cruise experience was a trio. Piano, bass and voice. The band was great.</font></div><div style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;"><font size="4">This time the line up is piano, voice and saxophone. I've worked with the pianist (Doru) in the previous line up. No bass? Doru and I were both unnerved at the thought. However Doru, the pro that he is, figured out how to make it work using backing tracks minus piano. It's different, but it works if you know how. So Choko's saxophone was a nice touch. Choko himself is a great musician, and hard not to really like as a person. </font><span style="font-size: large;">I'm actually playing a lot more guitar than before, mainly because the ship has upgraded their monitor system. Now the acoustic guitar sounds great. </span></div><div style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br></span></div><div style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;"><span style="font-size: large;">---------</span></div><div style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br></span></div><div style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;"><font size="4">Knowing that I haven't been singing much these days, I was very nervous about my voice, having to sing five sets a night and seven nights a week. Fortunately, I quickly remembered and adjusted to the softer singing style which I actually prefer. It's more musical and lyrical. My voice likes it. I recalled a few tips I learned from the one of the ship's show-group singers two years ago. From baking soda to "TMRG (Voice Solution)", I came prepared. </font></div><div style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;"><font size="4"> </font></div><div style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;"><font size="4">-----------</font></div><div style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;"><font size="4"><br></font></div><div style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;"><img id="id_586f_4f7b_bb4b_285e" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5Lz8q6fAO1LA-UcRk6I3qbhASjjJ_Ox0w2JluIifJ6V8DdvvbDxOGqxYd9G0VlobyrwGgRTUpSjuNlBjvj5i-nnkU6baFQvJfoZVlRxIuYmOWkzBkj-_UR7FEQ6UXLndT0YJiE5DA-ao/" alt="" title="" tooltip="" style="width: 267px; height: auto;"> <font size="4"><br></font></div><div style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;"><font size="4">Last night was awkward. There are chairs placed around the grand piano which puts people up close to the band. Sometimes too close.</font></div><div style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;"><font size="4">It's not so bad when women are seated or couples, but when a gang of men are seated up close, it's ... weird. That was the case last night. </font></div><div style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;"><font size="4">The piano is designed so that drinks can be placed on top of it or on the shelf made around it. I stand on the side of the piano. </font><span style="font-size: large;"> Last night I had my usual water, tea and not so usual, two cookies near me. An adorable Norwegian (I'll call him Sven) became enamored with alcohol and the band. Through the evening he became enamored with me. Eventually, he nabbed a chair right next to me, expressing his love for me, grabbing my hand. I was hoping someone from the staff would intervene. Then Sven helped himself to my glass of water AND my tea.</span></div><div style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;"><span style="font-size: large;">"Would you like a cookie?" "No thank you." Well, it's only the beginning.</span></div><div style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;"><br></div>Michehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11753606427918767795noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3126523526533435371.post-38525592944898142272017-02-15T04:28:00.001-05:002017-02-15T07:52:52.489-05:00Lieutenant's Log # 3<div>February 15, 2017</div><div><br></div><div>Lieutenant's Log # 3</div><div><br></div><div><br></div><div> I quickly indulged in my favorite pastime when in Kiel, which is going to "Grossman's", the area's version of CVS Drugs in the US. I had to replace the deodorant I purchased at home. It's amazing all the fancy deodorant items you can buy. The packaging and marketing is impressive, although I think there are way too many choices. I decided to try Mennen's (I think) 'Extra Fresh'. It was in a great looking box. When I got around to using it, I noticed that the smell was familiar but horrible. I recognized the scent but I couldn't put my finger on it. Then it hit me. It smells like Upstate, NY horse manure. There's no mistaking it. So I've been walking around on the ship smelling like horse crap. I'll say one thing, the smell was most certainly 'Extra Fresh.' </div><div>------------</div><div> It was arranged that I would board the ship a day early before my contracted schedule. So the agency put me up in a passengers cabin for a day. As you'd expect, the passenger cabins are extremely nice compared to the spartan, efficient cabins of the staff. On my first trip, I thought the cleaning staff had forgotten to put a shower curtain in the rather small bathroom. Nope. The toilet is inches away from the shower. So yes, the toilet gets wet when you shower. </div><div>I don't mean to be gross, but there's nothing like being able to take a dump while showering at the same time. Yes I know, that sentence could have been prettier.</div><div><br></div><div><img id="id_1651_4d3e_b9ec_751a" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgd21FAcHNli4PMdDlv_F7Mz1Qu0jRrQFQMAuFX345w8Rpiw0UqucUPmDSg9QRFU5NmpS3lrvgE52OFJ2WVSn8JtU4y8rRhJesm8zl4bIC6v3PdTxg3ZrAc-vHvONQjU87-gva4eE-J5Sk/" alt="" title="" tooltip="" style="width: 176px; height: auto;"> <br></div><div>-----------</div><div> In theory, after ten weeks I should be in much better shape than I am at the moment. </div><div> The last two days have been exhausting. My cabin is on the third level. You can only get to it via stairs. The "mess (cafeteria)" and crew area is on the fifth level. I have to go to the mess area to gain access to those particular stairs to the third level. The performance room is on the promenade, seventh level. So several times a day it's up and down the stairs, back and forth across the promenade. From the fifth level I can use the elevator to the promenade, but I'm trying not to. If I can just control the urge to eat 24/7, I should be in good shape by the end of my contract. </div>Michehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11753606427918767795noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3126523526533435371.post-18399260291741293282017-02-13T12:05:00.001-05:002017-02-13T12:54:25.780-05:00Lieutenant's Log #2<div>
February 13, 2017</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Lieutenant's Log #2</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Well I'm back aboard the cruise ship. It was fortunate to run into "Choko", the band saxophonist. I arrived at the terminal about 10:30am. We couldn't board the ship until 1pm. So there was a lot of time to kill which was great, because hauling my bags from the hotel to the terminal was indeed a workout. Sitting down was a great idea.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Choko is from Bulgaria. As I was walking into the terminal, he recognized me from the internet. He's tall and looks like Colin Hay from "Men At Work." From my observation, men from Eastern Europe make the best looking B-movie bad guys. Their faces usually have so much character. Like a lot musicians on cruise ships, Choko has been working on ships for decades. A veteran for sure. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
We talked for quite a bit. Well I should say, I listened for quite a bit. Even though I could hardly understand a word he was saying, his stories seemed fascinating. At least if I was hearing what I thought I was hearing. Interestingly every story ended with someone dying. To be fair, he's older than me by 11 years, so I suppose he's very acquainted with mortality tales. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
This band is going to be extremely different than the last group. It's still a trio, but there's no bassist. I have no idea why there would be no bassist and no idea what to expect. Couple that with the fact that not only do I have a hard time understanding Choko, I also have a hard time understanding "Doru" the pianist. He's from Romania. They both have very thick accents. The only language we have in common is music. I hope we're all fluent. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
*I can't think of the last time that I was the youngest person in the band. :)</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
Michehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11753606427918767795noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3126523526533435371.post-58009565907271920982017-02-12T07:07:00.002-05:002017-02-12T14:16:06.223-05:00Lieutenant's Log #1<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
February 12, 2017</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
Lieutenant's Log # 1</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
Tomorrow I embark on the Color Line cruise ship. I arrived in Kiel yesterday. It feels good being back in Germany, at least in Kiel. From what I read, there's a lot of turmoil east of here. However, I'm very comfortable here in Kiel. Yes, I could live here. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
The flight from Toronto was longer than I remember. "How was the flight?" Well, no one booed when we landed. Sometimes I wonder why people applaud when the plane lands. Isn't that what the plane is suppose to do? I hope I'm never on a plane when people are booing. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
The plane landed in Hamburg. I took a bus from Hamburg to Kiel. Fortunately, the Hotel booked was walking distance from the bus stop. I'm carrying two cases, my guitar on my back and a portfolio. One of the tricky parts of this gig is the amount of clothes I have to bring. Performing in the "jazz room" requires me to dress nice every night. Not that I mind, but how am I going to carry all those clothes. Band mate from my first cruise ship experience, sent me a YouTube link on packing a ton of clothes in a smallish case. That was super helpful. If you're curious take a look.</div>
<br>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=PDn9l20NlWw">Packing Clothes...</a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><img id="id_e5e8_ad5e_4ad4_cd19" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3lxf0D29kNJEZWjC8Rr4-8gV8_NbR8nIIa9QsNdbUXfEp3b4Dlm7JOF68zSFuhGW3MxbERZHjTHt0PU4hllZ2d9uUYs5u1AdgpOQB_NbOHtGA9NbQsIBHDtxuWuGIckOKNlYL79nCcCA/" alt="" title="" tooltip="" style="width: 254px; height: auto;"> <br></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
The hotel is right along the port. You can see the ships outside the window. It's a nice hotel and it's a great precursor to the ship adventure. Sans luxury. My room is remarkably similar to the "ensign's quarters" from my first trip. Uncomfortable looking beds that are shockingly comfortable. Terrible internet and exceptional food. Tomorrow begins the adventure as I haul my bags from the hotel to the ship. A mild work out. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br>Michehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11753606427918767795noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3126523526533435371.post-23824167343549344312015-03-20T18:54:00.001-04:002015-03-21T10:12:24.976-04:00Smile, You're On Rachet Camera<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfyciMc8XPgGtyz41QWl0mK8arnABMipxmfnEzDIEyIzl_wkm928neqHZ305Pbtqz4ajYo6xYlsIr7FuJW9QOCQ5qEObsWLNcQKwadEPzlS0OduTEX782HH_uX2IAZPkKJtj-Sc0bQVYQ/s1600/Brova.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfyciMc8XPgGtyz41QWl0mK8arnABMipxmfnEzDIEyIzl_wkm928neqHZ305Pbtqz4ajYo6xYlsIr7FuJW9QOCQ5qEObsWLNcQKwadEPzlS0OduTEX782HH_uX2IAZPkKJtj-Sc0bQVYQ/s1600/Brova.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">I think one of the worst things that have befallen black people is the cellphone with a camera. On one hand we continually cry victimhood and yes, there's plenty camera proof of bad cops, but those numbers are nothing compared to the extraordinary, exponential number of videos displaying how violent, out of control, and yes, even savage we have become, especially to our own people. No, the white man didn't make or edit these videos. We, black folks are taping this footage ourselves for the whole world to see on social media. Streets out of control. Schools out of control. Homes out of control. The media knows all about this. They hold back. They're intentionally not specific about certain details. Why? Because they fear what everyone fears when dealing with blacks as a whole. We blacks are impervious to criticism. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">There can never be a 'real' discussion. A fight perhaps. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Racists, uncle toms, coons etc, are as simple as someone who disagrees with the black status quo. How can anyone stand to be so predictable? However, let someone say, "I know what black people think." then "You're a racist!" "I bet you're a democrat." "You're a racist." You can't win.</span></div>
<div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> </span></div>
<div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">6 years ago, I honestly thought there was hope for such matters, but it's even worse now. It doesn't matter whose fault it is, but it does matter that it's in fact, acknowledged as a problem, which shockingly, some people don't see it as such. </span></div>
<div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Blacks have accomplished more rising up against the restraints of civil violations in past decades. Black History Month talks about some of these people. However, today with all the available opportunities, you would think we had lost that battle. </span></div>
<div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 14.0px;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">If the discussion of race is only about what whites and cops must do, it will remain the growing cancer it's been. If the discussion of race includes what blacks must also do. That's a beginning with a good projection. </span></div>
<div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> </span></div>
<div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Never mind what the intellectuals and the exceptional people say, all you have to do is observe black America to see that we're unimaginably messed up. And all we can do is cry victimhood, blame the white man, slavery and agree to the <span style="font: 16.0px Times;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">indiscernible idea, that we are not smart enough to take care of ourselves and must be treated like a child with special needs. Hey, it's a tough world. </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">"Only the strong survive." </span></div>
<div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">The weak makes self exploitive videos and shows it to the whole world. Kill each other over nothing. Call each other niggers and complains when non-niggers use it. Maybe the coon is YOU.</span></div>
<div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">For the curious</span></div>
<div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">"White Girl Bleed A Lot" is one of many websites, with an embarrassing number of these shaming videos. FYI, there's as many black websites doing and saying the same thing. It's easy to attack the messenger, but it's hard to dispute hard evidence, the videos.</span></div>
<div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><a href="https://www.youtube.com/user/BamaFanatic12345/videos">https://www.youtube.com/user/BamaFanatic12345/videos</a></span></div>
<div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">
<br /></div>
Michehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11753606427918767795noreply@blogger.com0