I found myself staring at the water. After all, this was the first time I had ever been completely surrounded by water on all sides- I mean, technically being on any continent means you're surrounded, but if you would all stop being so nerdy for a second and keep in mind that a boat in the ocean is much smaller and much closer to water than, say, Dayton, OH, you'd catch my meaning. It was mesmerizing. I just kept looking and looking and looking. Observing the patterns of the waves- how they seemed to have a symmetry and how they all danced with purpose as they foamed into the bow of the ship. Even the foam was hypnotic- the white formed a puffy iridescent lace that fell into aquamarine and then to crystal blue- the ocean knitting its own fabric of sorts. I couldn't get enough.
There is also something about floating on top of a whole new habitat. You know- there's tons of stuff down there- stuff that can only live in water, and only in salt water at that. Of course, you could say the same thing about living on land, as there are things that live in the earth and such. But nothing in the earth is as big as an 800-pound tuna, or a shark, or a WHALE.....and thank God for that- imagine the nightmare it would pose
for city planning. As it is, thinking about the fact that they have now found colossal squid, it's hard not to imagine the antique inscribed novels of tentacles rising out of the ocean to drag a vessel to the murky depths. Or worse yet, to imagine that the megalodon still exists and is coming to bite a hunk out of the Rotterdam, just as the curtain rises for showtime.
Okay- so now I'M being a nerd- I never said I wasn't. OH- did I tell you that I saw a stingray come up in the waves? An actual stingray- triangular with the long tapered broomstick tail. For the most part I had only seen a bird or the occasional kelp patch. But even thinking about the bird- how it floated with no one else around- no other birds, no other boats, nothing for miles. And it was perfectly fine with its life- no panic no stress. Chillin. I couldn't help but think that was somehow a symbol of how I needed to see life. Not that the bird would always be alone, and not that I would be either. But that the ocean- and life- Would take care of things as long as the bird and I did what we had to do.
It's a tricky place to be in life. It requires tremendous faith and tremendous oblivion. You've gotta ignore a whole bunch of bullshit that is constantly being lobbed at you by family, friends, magazines, the news, movies, commercials, billboards- pretty much everywhere you look. Without this sounding like the beginning of an after-school special, it just means letting go of a bunch of pre-conceived notions about what one SHOULD be doing with life. In other words, the only thing one should be doing is what one wants to do. Given that I've lived with many regrets, I began to realize how much I had not done just that. That's what got me to audition in the first place.
The bird on the water was so calm. He/she didn't dive, didn't flap, didn't even move his/her head to observe the massiveness passing it by. It just kept floating along, rocking along with the waves. Time for me to do the same. I mean, 'tis truly a very in-between place- one never feels quite settled. The funny thing is, there is no better way to feel more grounded.
Saturday, August 27, 2011
The crossing, part one: jitterbug
The crossing
On the morning of May 17th, I awoke from the most amazing three hours of sleep I had ever gotten in order to prepare for my departure on the ms ROTTERDAM. a king sized bed all to myself had enveloped me in its comfy confines for the evening and it didn't want to let me go. And, I'll have to admit, I didn't want to let it go, either. But sometimes you have to bid adieu to even the most cozy of relationships, and so I gave the bed of the gods a groggy goodbye, packed my suitcase- which had somehow exploded clothing casualties all over the room in one night- and headed downstairs.
The lobby was buzzing with activity- people adding to the luggage totem pole forming near the front desk, other sleepyheads munching sluggishly on danish, and the eager ones outside- their morning preparations complete- and waiting on the shuttle, even though it would be another 20 minutes before it arrived.
I headed to the omelette line- which would become a refrain during the actual cruise- and grabbed a pastry, a coffee, and an orange juice and a seat. All was delicious and all was quickly consumed (with the exception of the seat, of course- I wasn't THAT hungry). I realized that there were still some things I needed to pick up before we left, as toiletries and such were not easy to come by on the ocean, go figure. Kmart was across the street, but didn't open until long after we were gone. Thus the shell station convenience store became
my stop.
Man, Florida was pretty muggy that May morning. As I did much running to make sure I got back in time, I had inadvertently invented the brand new, all-new, for the latest season, for ALL seasons: "sweaty chic". That's right- wear a sassy dress shirt, a vintage skinny tie, a pair of pants that slightly hugs the ass. And, the piece de resistance, sweat to the point that it's dripping off your chin. I tell ya, there is no better way to gain that second-look glance that says "what the hell are you wearing?" That's right baby. Then walk in, grab that toothpaste and pay for it like "what???"
At any rate......
It took us about 20 minutes to get to the ship, maybe less. Passing through minor forests and swamps, we suddenly came to a rather industrial looking area that became completely invisible once I saw the jewel of the seas- the ms Rotterdam. Okay, okay- that's a rather trite, unimaginative way to describe it, but I can onlyt speak to how I was affected knowing that I would be living on this vessel for the next 8 months. And like a jewel, it was beautiful and exciting- and you hesitate at it because, well, I don't know.... because maybe deep down inside you wonder if it's too good to be true- or that if you touch it, it might lose its value.
More on that later....
So, as to be expected, embarkment onto a ship is full of a whole bunch of bureaucracies that are important to the safety, understanding and well-being of each worker. I hastily brought my luggage into my room (which Melodie, the F1 pointed out to me) and headed to a morning of meetings and drill tests, finding out where my assigned lifeboat was and the like. By 11am, I was in the Showroom at Sea where we were preparing for the first round of rehearsals. There I met my fellow cast members: Erwin, the zany M1 with the mellow soulful pop Musical theatre voice; Morie, the M2 with the bright voice and personality to match; Vinnie, the Male Comic whose person and voice are as unmistakeable as they are irreplaceable; Melodie- the F1 of the aforementioned F1s- who's got a voice with big brass cahones and Talia- the FL- and therefore my on-stage partner in crime- the sweet soprano who can float high notes as if they were in the middle of her range. Though I was admittedly shy at first, I was also pretty certain that we would get along famously. The rehearsal went well, and we had a break for lunch.
After lunch, I was put on a sort of signature scavenger hunt. There was this card that we needed to complete in order to get our ship identification, without which we would not be able to get off the ship. You see, the ID is not only the way that you prove that you are an employee of the ship to the customs agents at the gates, it proves that you have an actual passport to the agents as well- people without passports cannot travel, after all. So, I was keen to get the card completed. The only thing was that I could not find all the people
needed to sign. Some people told me that it is done on purpose- that the card often times is not finished in a day. All I could say was thank goodness I had a whole week of sea travel or else I would've been PISSED not being able to get off the ship at a port.
After I did all that I could, I spent some time getting my room together and prepared to take part of my very first performance- the opening show known as "Nothing's Gonna Stop Us Now". Yes, you are correct- it is named after the Jefferson Starship song of the same name- and we do sing and dance to it. THe show ends up showcasing all of the singers and the two dancers (minus Vinnie, for some odd reason). We each sing a solo excerpt- mine being "Man of LaMancha". It's light, it's easy, it wracked my nerves horribly. I mean, this was the first time I had been in a long term performance contract in years. The need to make a good impression was extremely strong, especially given the fact that most of the cast knew and had worked with each other before I got there. But, I think I did a fine job- I mean, I didn't crack or anything, and I took command of the stage for my solo. That's all I could ask for.
Not bad for a first night on the ship. I spent the rest of the evening in my room (after a midnight rehearsal for the Broadway show) in contemplation. Will I sully this diamond opportunity? You see, I took a hard look at myself and realized, well before I took this gig, that I've had many great opportunities that I took for granted. Chances that I ruined due to my own lack of trust in the universe, or even my own pervading impatience. I have always wanted things now, now, now, and not been good with falling in love with the process. And all of this was based in a fear of failure- a fear that I brought into reality more times than I really cared to know or admit. So, right then, I made a pact that I would try hard to kick those fears to the curve- to accept my imperfection and to let go of my past habits. And to accept that it would take some work, but it's a helluva lot better than living the same life, making the same decisions. A prayer, and a little writing, I closed my eyes to my first day.
On the morning of May 17th, I awoke from the most amazing three hours of sleep I had ever gotten in order to prepare for my departure on the ms ROTTERDAM. a king sized bed all to myself had enveloped me in its comfy confines for the evening and it didn't want to let me go. And, I'll have to admit, I didn't want to let it go, either. But sometimes you have to bid adieu to even the most cozy of relationships, and so I gave the bed of the gods a groggy goodbye, packed my suitcase- which had somehow exploded clothing casualties all over the room in one night- and headed downstairs.
The lobby was buzzing with activity- people adding to the luggage totem pole forming near the front desk, other sleepyheads munching sluggishly on danish, and the eager ones outside- their morning preparations complete- and waiting on the shuttle, even though it would be another 20 minutes before it arrived.
I headed to the omelette line- which would become a refrain during the actual cruise- and grabbed a pastry, a coffee, and an orange juice and a seat. All was delicious and all was quickly consumed (with the exception of the seat, of course- I wasn't THAT hungry). I realized that there were still some things I needed to pick up before we left, as toiletries and such were not easy to come by on the ocean, go figure. Kmart was across the street, but didn't open until long after we were gone. Thus the shell station convenience store became
my stop.
Man, Florida was pretty muggy that May morning. As I did much running to make sure I got back in time, I had inadvertently invented the brand new, all-new, for the latest season, for ALL seasons: "sweaty chic". That's right- wear a sassy dress shirt, a vintage skinny tie, a pair of pants that slightly hugs the ass. And, the piece de resistance, sweat to the point that it's dripping off your chin. I tell ya, there is no better way to gain that second-look glance that says "what the hell are you wearing?" That's right baby. Then walk in, grab that toothpaste and pay for it like "what???"
At any rate......
It took us about 20 minutes to get to the ship, maybe less. Passing through minor forests and swamps, we suddenly came to a rather industrial looking area that became completely invisible once I saw the jewel of the seas- the ms Rotterdam. Okay, okay- that's a rather trite, unimaginative way to describe it, but I can onlyt speak to how I was affected knowing that I would be living on this vessel for the next 8 months. And like a jewel, it was beautiful and exciting- and you hesitate at it because, well, I don't know.... because maybe deep down inside you wonder if it's too good to be true- or that if you touch it, it might lose its value.
More on that later....
So, as to be expected, embarkment onto a ship is full of a whole bunch of bureaucracies that are important to the safety, understanding and well-being of each worker. I hastily brought my luggage into my room (which Melodie, the F1 pointed out to me) and headed to a morning of meetings and drill tests, finding out where my assigned lifeboat was and the like. By 11am, I was in the Showroom at Sea where we were preparing for the first round of rehearsals. There I met my fellow cast members: Erwin, the zany M1 with the mellow soulful pop Musical theatre voice; Morie, the M2 with the bright voice and personality to match; Vinnie, the Male Comic whose person and voice are as unmistakeable as they are irreplaceable; Melodie- the F1 of the aforementioned F1s- who's got a voice with big brass cahones and Talia- the FL- and therefore my on-stage partner in crime- the sweet soprano who can float high notes as if they were in the middle of her range. Though I was admittedly shy at first, I was also pretty certain that we would get along famously. The rehearsal went well, and we had a break for lunch.
After lunch, I was put on a sort of signature scavenger hunt. There was this card that we needed to complete in order to get our ship identification, without which we would not be able to get off the ship. You see, the ID is not only the way that you prove that you are an employee of the ship to the customs agents at the gates, it proves that you have an actual passport to the agents as well- people without passports cannot travel, after all. So, I was keen to get the card completed. The only thing was that I could not find all the people
needed to sign. Some people told me that it is done on purpose- that the card often times is not finished in a day. All I could say was thank goodness I had a whole week of sea travel or else I would've been PISSED not being able to get off the ship at a port.
After I did all that I could, I spent some time getting my room together and prepared to take part of my very first performance- the opening show known as "Nothing's Gonna Stop Us Now". Yes, you are correct- it is named after the Jefferson Starship song of the same name- and we do sing and dance to it. THe show ends up showcasing all of the singers and the two dancers (minus Vinnie, for some odd reason). We each sing a solo excerpt- mine being "Man of LaMancha". It's light, it's easy, it wracked my nerves horribly. I mean, this was the first time I had been in a long term performance contract in years. The need to make a good impression was extremely strong, especially given the fact that most of the cast knew and had worked with each other before I got there. But, I think I did a fine job- I mean, I didn't crack or anything, and I took command of the stage for my solo. That's all I could ask for.
Not bad for a first night on the ship. I spent the rest of the evening in my room (after a midnight rehearsal for the Broadway show) in contemplation. Will I sully this diamond opportunity? You see, I took a hard look at myself and realized, well before I took this gig, that I've had many great opportunities that I took for granted. Chances that I ruined due to my own lack of trust in the universe, or even my own pervading impatience. I have always wanted things now, now, now, and not been good with falling in love with the process. And all of this was based in a fear of failure- a fear that I brought into reality more times than I really cared to know or admit. So, right then, I made a pact that I would try hard to kick those fears to the curve- to accept my imperfection and to let go of my past habits. And to accept that it would take some work, but it's a helluva lot better than living the same life, making the same decisions. A prayer, and a little writing, I closed my eyes to my first day.
Sunday, July 17, 2011
The Beginning
So, Alas, I write this thing- my blog- my journal- my "I'll keep y'allz informed through the internet" thing.
As some of you know, and many might not know, I finally got a job that actually uses my collegiate and graduate training- I am a singer on Holland America Cruise Line. Now, as those of you who have had cruise gigs know, working on a cruise line is awesome in the way that we've all dreamed about as musicians- room and board paid, a weekly stipend, and regular performance. What makes this gig particularly galactic is the beautiful ship itself, which is more yacht-like than cruisey and the itinerary, which, for the purpose of keeping you in "blog-spense" (see how I did that?!?!) will be revealed as I go along. Those of you a bit more info-impatient, well, you can find anything on the web. Word? Word.
Officially, I have been on my new home, the ms ROTTERDAM since May 17th, 2011 and have much to write about. But blogs must be succinct and I have much to catch up on. So, I'll start before the journey began by talking about what I affectionately called "The Resurrection Insurrection"- my going away party.
WARNING- this entry will not be short, so there!
We churched it out on April 24th, 2011- which was Easter. It also was the date in which, fifteen years prior, I decided to stop lying to/about myself and be openly gay, or, the date known as "JJ Gay Day" (titled by my good friend Benubi). It was therefore, the perfect day for a gathering. After all, Easter is all about triumvirate/three-in-one goodness and I was celebrating my own sort of rebirth.
You see, I had been dealing with many huge personal losses in 2010- the death of my father (which occured in 2007, but is still difficult), the loss of many relationships, including a romantic one, and a near collapse of my finances. Sometimes bad things come in threes, and those losses stung quite deeply. But, as they say, you take the good you take the bad- and it all gave me serious perspective on living and letting go.
It was a long battle, but the victory surely required a celebration. And, the celebration had to be GRAND.
The party would therefore be a pot-luck. With my beautiful, zany mother providing gumbo, cornbread, and a lemon-raspberry tart and I smoking a turkey. The undertaking for a smoked turkey was painstaking and awesome and painstakingly awesome. First, the smoker had to be primed by getting it to optimum temperature and keeping it that way for 2 hours. Then, I had to soak the turkey in a brine- a fragrant goulash of black peppercorns, garlic, thyme, salt, pink salt (which helps seal in the juices even more), sugar, water, and bay leaves. There had to be enough to cover the bird, so I had to make 4 gallons of the stuff (brewed on the stove) and throw it all in a cooler outside for 24 hours, making sure the brine remained cold while the turkey sealed its juices. Then, after washing off the salt, drying the turkey and keeping it in the fridge for 12 hours more, it arose from the frost a pristine white, cleansed of its penchant for dryness.
My good friend Nick came over Easter morning to assist with this endeavor as he had smoked meats before, and honestly, I've never seen someone whose whole being fired up at the mention of smoked meats like Nick. We came down the back stair, and I realized I had forgotten something inside so I tried to open the door, but it was locked. Nick had closed it behind us and locked us out. And my keys and my cell phone were inside. And the front door buzzer didn't work, so there was very little chance to wake up Meredith, who was allowing the party to happen at her place (where I was also a temporary roommate). Fortunately, Bagel (Meredith's dog) and her aching cuteness had made the journey outside with us. Her bark+my ingenuity= plan.
I took Bagel's tennis ball and threw it at Meredith's window, hoping it would wake her. The action of the ball throwing made Bagel excited, who told me, in no uncertain terms, that it was now time to throw it in her direction and she wasn't shutting up until I did. This, of course, I thought would work to my advantage, but, no response from Meredith. Finally, we looked next door where some gentlemen were working on a ladder. As they say, ask and you shall receive- soon I was shimmying up a ladder to Meredith's window. I knocked, gingerly- of course not normally what one would do un-slumber a person, but I didn't want to freak her out.
"Yes?" she said.
"It's Jason", I said.
"Hey baby!" she said, and we proceeded to have a conversation as if we had just met for coffee.
After a few minutes, she wondered "what are you doing outside of my window?"
"I was locked out and I was trying to get your attention with a ball and Bagel, so now I'm on a ladder."
"Oh! I wondered why Bagel was barking, but figured she'd stop sooner or later." She got up, got me in, and the party set-up continued.
Mom and my step-dad Mark arrived in the afternoon, as did my friends Benubi and Chris, and before I knew it, the rest of the congregation was arriving with their own culinary offerings. So much food!! and ALLL of it heavenly. But, the piece de resistance, the turkey, was absolutely divine- it arose from the smoker looking like a Norman Rockwell painting. Its entrance to the dining room literally caused gasps. And the turkey was so juicy it sho nuff did cause a revival. All were gorged, and all were happy.
The party began to wind down around 10pm, but my friends and I couldn't resist a night at Mary's Attic so a few of us headed over and sang our hallelujahs at karaoke. And the best part? We went back to the apartment afterwards and grubbed some more- that's right, even the party itself resurrected! Meredith testified on guitar, the rest of us shouted our approvals, and we proceeded to hoover up the rest of the food with our mouths. Revelry done, we passed out in our respective beds.
It was the best party I could have asked for. There were many other people that I wished could have made it, but the people that were there were definitely supposed to be there. Each and everyone that came contributed to a night of perfection. From the bottom of my filled heart, I thank you all for coming.You all helped to create a send off that surpassed my wildest dreams.
As some of you know, and many might not know, I finally got a job that actually uses my collegiate and graduate training- I am a singer on Holland America Cruise Line. Now, as those of you who have had cruise gigs know, working on a cruise line is awesome in the way that we've all dreamed about as musicians- room and board paid, a weekly stipend, and regular performance. What makes this gig particularly galactic is the beautiful ship itself, which is more yacht-like than cruisey and the itinerary, which, for the purpose of keeping you in "blog-spense" (see how I did that?!?!) will be revealed as I go along. Those of you a bit more info-impatient, well, you can find anything on the web. Word? Word.
Officially, I have been on my new home, the ms ROTTERDAM since May 17th, 2011 and have much to write about. But blogs must be succinct and I have much to catch up on. So, I'll start before the journey began by talking about what I affectionately called "The Resurrection Insurrection"- my going away party.
WARNING- this entry will not be short, so there!
We churched it out on April 24th, 2011- which was Easter. It also was the date in which, fifteen years prior, I decided to stop lying to/about myself and be openly gay, or, the date known as "JJ Gay Day" (titled by my good friend Benubi). It was therefore, the perfect day for a gathering. After all, Easter is all about triumvirate/three-in-one goodness and I was celebrating my own sort of rebirth.
You see, I had been dealing with many huge personal losses in 2010- the death of my father (which occured in 2007, but is still difficult), the loss of many relationships, including a romantic one, and a near collapse of my finances. Sometimes bad things come in threes, and those losses stung quite deeply. But, as they say, you take the good you take the bad- and it all gave me serious perspective on living and letting go.
It was a long battle, but the victory surely required a celebration. And, the celebration had to be GRAND.
The party would therefore be a pot-luck. With my beautiful, zany mother providing gumbo, cornbread, and a lemon-raspberry tart and I smoking a turkey. The undertaking for a smoked turkey was painstaking and awesome and painstakingly awesome. First, the smoker had to be primed by getting it to optimum temperature and keeping it that way for 2 hours. Then, I had to soak the turkey in a brine- a fragrant goulash of black peppercorns, garlic, thyme, salt, pink salt (which helps seal in the juices even more), sugar, water, and bay leaves. There had to be enough to cover the bird, so I had to make 4 gallons of the stuff (brewed on the stove) and throw it all in a cooler outside for 24 hours, making sure the brine remained cold while the turkey sealed its juices. Then, after washing off the salt, drying the turkey and keeping it in the fridge for 12 hours more, it arose from the frost a pristine white, cleansed of its penchant for dryness.
My good friend Nick came over Easter morning to assist with this endeavor as he had smoked meats before, and honestly, I've never seen someone whose whole being fired up at the mention of smoked meats like Nick. We came down the back stair, and I realized I had forgotten something inside so I tried to open the door, but it was locked. Nick had closed it behind us and locked us out. And my keys and my cell phone were inside. And the front door buzzer didn't work, so there was very little chance to wake up Meredith, who was allowing the party to happen at her place (where I was also a temporary roommate). Fortunately, Bagel (Meredith's dog) and her aching cuteness had made the journey outside with us. Her bark+my ingenuity= plan.
I took Bagel's tennis ball and threw it at Meredith's window, hoping it would wake her. The action of the ball throwing made Bagel excited, who told me, in no uncertain terms, that it was now time to throw it in her direction and she wasn't shutting up until I did. This, of course, I thought would work to my advantage, but, no response from Meredith. Finally, we looked next door where some gentlemen were working on a ladder. As they say, ask and you shall receive- soon I was shimmying up a ladder to Meredith's window. I knocked, gingerly- of course not normally what one would do un-slumber a person, but I didn't want to freak her out.
"Yes?" she said.
"It's Jason", I said.
"Hey baby!" she said, and we proceeded to have a conversation as if we had just met for coffee.
After a few minutes, she wondered "what are you doing outside of my window?"
"I was locked out and I was trying to get your attention with a ball and Bagel, so now I'm on a ladder."
"Oh! I wondered why Bagel was barking, but figured she'd stop sooner or later." She got up, got me in, and the party set-up continued.
Mom and my step-dad Mark arrived in the afternoon, as did my friends Benubi and Chris, and before I knew it, the rest of the congregation was arriving with their own culinary offerings. So much food!! and ALLL of it heavenly. But, the piece de resistance, the turkey, was absolutely divine- it arose from the smoker looking like a Norman Rockwell painting. Its entrance to the dining room literally caused gasps. And the turkey was so juicy it sho nuff did cause a revival. All were gorged, and all were happy.
The party began to wind down around 10pm, but my friends and I couldn't resist a night at Mary's Attic so a few of us headed over and sang our hallelujahs at karaoke. And the best part? We went back to the apartment afterwards and grubbed some more- that's right, even the party itself resurrected! Meredith testified on guitar, the rest of us shouted our approvals, and we proceeded to hoover up the rest of the food with our mouths. Revelry done, we passed out in our respective beds.
It was the best party I could have asked for. There were many other people that I wished could have made it, but the people that were there were definitely supposed to be there. Each and everyone that came contributed to a night of perfection. From the bottom of my filled heart, I thank you all for coming.You all helped to create a send off that surpassed my wildest dreams.
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