The Poosey Digest... by Freida Marie Crump
Herb vs. the cruise ship
Greetings from Poosey.
It's a plot. The cruise ships want your repeat business and they offer a whole cornucopia of deals if you'll travel with them again, but their wiliest trick to snag you for a second excursion is the layout of their ships. They know that you'll only learn how to find your way around by the last day of the cruise, and they hope you'll sign on again just so on the second trip you can find your room by midnight.
The ship has 2000-plus passengers, a thousand crew members, four restaurants, seven bars, two pools, a spa, workout gym, running track, rock climbing wall, basketball court, putt-putt course, casino, theatre, billiards room (with self-leveling tables), solarium, library, a hundred little nooks and cruise crannies, and all I want to do is find the right elevator to my stateroom.
It was the typical Crump quandary. Herb spent the first three days arguing with me about the right directions then on day four he simply gave up and began following me around like a lost harbor seal. Victory at Sea!
It's tough on a common Midwesterner to be waited upon hand and foot. Yes, I know it's the job of your room steward to straighten your bed every time you step out of your cabin and to tie up your bath towels like cute little bunnies and ferrets each night. I know that your waiter is being paid to remove the crumbs off your table with a silver scraper and fill your water glass after each drink. I realize that it's bad form to stack your plates after the meal to make it easier for the bus boy to remove, but when you come from farm country where crumb scrapers are rare, it's just hard to be waited upon. And of course you constantly tell yourself that if you get used to it then you're really in trouble.
The words "change" and "Herb" are not synonymous. The simple act of getting him out of the house for any sort of trip is a miracle equaling the Second Coming, and to force the old poop to walk the half-mile to the Windjammer Café for his breakfast, smoke his pipe on only one side of the ship, and put on his pants before going down the hallway is a miracle equal only to glacial drip.
After claiming he'd learned the ship's layout perfectly Herb got lost for nearly an entire half day. It was the best day of my cruise. I dallied in the spa, enjoyed a coffee and scone while watching the glaciers drift by, and dropped a couple of quarters into the slot machines. Meanwhile Herb was playing his own form of roulette, pushing elevator buttons in hopes of finding his way home. I pitied him not. He was the old fool who claimed to never need directions. He claimed later that he was riding a defective elevator since every button he pushed landed him on deck seven. The idiot didn't realize that he was riding elevator number seven, the numeral permanently engraved in the front of the car.
Anyone who's cruised knows that the ship will gladly take your picture everywhere but in your shower (just because there's not room for the photographer) and then for a mere $20 will sell you a copy. You don't have to buy, but it's almost obligatory to pose with every cruise member dressed as a reindeer, orca, or puffin as you leave and enter the ship. Strolling through the picture gallery one evening I was startled to see Herb's likeness photographed again and again by a series of luscious young women. He said that this was a result of his "lost day at sea" and he had merely stopped these women to ask directions. "You only asked beautiful women in low cut gowns?" He said, "Really? I didn't notice that part, Freida. I think they were attracted to my lonely face." I resisted slapping his lonely face until we'd returned to Poosey and I could put my hands on something heavy. He'd peeked into the wrong crevices.
Our ship docked somewhere nearly every day and we did our best to take in as much of the on-shore wonder as possible. Freida's cruise excursion tips: 1) Do not sit on the downstream side of the rubber raft when shooting the rapids of a glacier-fed river – 34-degree water combined with a 52-degree air temperature and a rubber suit which still leaves several vital areas exposed can lead to an Alaskan Adventure that you will not have anticipated. 2) When viewing Sarah Palin's house in Skagway and your husband wants to drop to the ground and worship, it's bad taste to ask to use the house's restroom. 3) It's acceptable to get a bit nervous on your grizzly bear watching expedition when they have "safety men" at the front and rear of your group with suspicious bulges in the coat pockets. 4) Most Alaskan guides are from Utah. I have no explanation.
You ever ‘round Poosey, stop by. We may not answer the door but you'll enjoy the trip.
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