There Was A Superbowl?When?

Out here, on the ship, with only movies from a video locker and a couple news channels, we are completely ignorant of current media culture.

I have no idea what TV shows are popular and probably would not even recognize show names. I have no idea what movies have come out or are coming out. I don't know any of the celebrities.

Now people who know me, will say this was always true. I was never in turn with media culture. This is true. But it is simply impractical to even try to stay in the know out here. I would have to run ashore in English speaking ports and buy the relevant magazines, People, or whatever.

So, the Superbowl took place in Miami. I found this out the day of the Superbowl. (It clarified why my mother, who lives in Miami said the place was shut down for Superbowl, three days before the event. Before that I thought, "Gosh, I really doubt the Dolphins are playing. Why does Miami care about the Superbowl?")

It was the Bears and the Colts. I still have no idea where the Colts are from.

Perhaps more poignant, I am not even sure who won. Seriously.

The 560 people I live with consist of about 30 Americans and only Americans pay any attention to the Superbowl. Of those, assume 20 had to work during the Superbowl. The other ten were hardly aware it was going on. It was not as if we have been exposed to the three weeks of media hype.

As I chat with friends online since the game, people make references to commercials I have not seen, and may never see.

Out here we are completely removed from media culture, and since I am from effectively a media culture, that means I am completely removed from my culture.

It makes for a very strange isolation.

Not that I am complaining.

This is a picture from St. Kitt's yesterday. (I think it looks startlingly like Ventura, but people say I always say places look like home.)



Being removed from the shared experience of media culture is isolating. But look at the picture above, which would you choose?

Wonders Never Cease

The things that get lost in the mail, I will never understand.

The things that make it through the mail, are even more amazing.

The following piece of mail, with no "to" address, made it from Santa Barbara, CA, to Miami, to our Port Agents office, to our ship, to my office, as intended.

And for which, with happy ears, I am grateful. (Thank you for the music Sean.)

St. Barts

There are certain things that spoil you in land life. The ability to just get up and go is one of them.

I like to take walks, along the beach, around the neighborhood, and hikes up the foothills by my home.

On my ship, this is just not as easy and walking out the door. But it offers something home can't.

Yesterday, the ship was in port from 8-6. I work until noon and have off until four. So at noon, I boarded a little tender boat for the twenty minute shuttle ride to the port.

Now what. Every day a new port. It is not like I can hike that trail I like so much. First I have to find a trail. And who knows if there are trails to be found?

So I walk around town. With an excellent feel for towns and their layouts, from many trips to many different cities, and with luck, I found myself, yesterday, on a steep road to the highest point of St. Barts.

St. Barts is like Santa Barbara, foothills by the sea, a lot of the same vegetation, but with more humidity, a quaint French corridor feel and wealth oozing from its perfectly sculpted, pampered, bronzed pores. You see small cars, smart cars, atvs and vespas sharing the roads. Restaurants with signs boasting interesting fusions, French BBQ and Santa Fe Caribbean.

I love the turquoise, pink, sky blue, earthy orange, mint green houses adorned with white shutters and terra cotta colored, slate-styled roofs. Bougainvillea of every color pops out through every adobe style fence, and doors are left wide open to revealing hearty style, slightly weathered wood furniture.

These are all thoughts I had this morning… and took absolutely no pictures of yesterday.

I sit here, in the Palm Court, deck 11, watching our slow arrival to St. Kitts, appreciating the sunrise and appreciating my sore legs from my walk to the top of St. Barts.

I miss being able to walk out my door at any time and just take a walk, like I can on land.

On the other hand, it is cool to step off the ship and have a walk I have never done before, just minutes away, with brand new sites to see.

That is my ship far away.



Cool: Brightly colored French-Corridor style homes facing a turquoise sea and a brand new walk, with new sites, just a minutes away from home.

Lost Awe

(Song: "Everyday is Exactly the Same," By Nine Inch Nails.)

I am getting prodded by more than one person lately about how little I blog lately.

It is an unfortunate aspect of the ever broadening world that the more you see, the more it becomes common place, the less awe it inspires.

I once said to someone, "If I have children, I don't want them to leave the country before they are 18 years old." This was met with European superiority, how stupid I was to entrench the American ways in my children.

That has nothing at all to do with it.

If you are never exposed to the amazing and vast amount of differences, when you finally are, the wonder and awe of every little aspect is intoxicating. But you don't notice the differences unless you are aware of them. I don't want my kids to be accustomed to differences prior to their ability to find wonder in them. I left the US first to go to Canada, which was hardly a change. Then I went to Scotland at age 19.

It was overpowering. Everything, different light switches, cobble streets, street numbering, how to open windows, ordering a pizza (I like margaritas which is a cheese pizza), it is all different. And had I been exposed to all this when I was young, I would never have realized or noticed how amazing the differences are, or thought about why they exist.

I think this has affected my blogging.

As port after port after lame Caribbean port goes by, I am no longer struck or fascinated by the tin drum band on the dock. It is the Caribbean, of course there is a tin drum band on the pier. It no longer strikes me that I can us US dollars in just about every country I stop in. The sun and the sea so blue it refreshes your soul, it is all taken for granted.

The fact that my phone calls have a three second delay, like it is 1940, does not even enter my thoughts while talking.

I went to a pilates class. Pilates are a lot about strengthening core muscles through balancing exercises.

Well the seas were not exactly even, so we got an enhanced pilates workout. You try balancing on your left hip and the ship is rolling a bit. You get all the muscles you are intending to stretch, and a few more thrown in as part of the deal. It didn't really occur to me to mention this in my blog before now, because I accept the rolling of the ship as a normal part of life, not worth mentioning. (I should really start a list of normal things that are not so easy/ more difficult on a rolling ship: shaving, running, pilates, carrying a cup of coffee, keeping you chair (which for some reason is on wheels) close to you desk, walking a straight line, holding down your breakfast, standing in stilettos, grabbing the soap off the shower floor, walking through doorways without hitting either side, finding things you swore you left on your desk, but may have rolled somewhere, like pens and screw drivers.)

Then there is always that morning every now and then when you walk into your office, and everything that was on your shelves is now on your desk and everything on your desk is on the floor, all the drawers are open and your chair is knocked over.

No, this was not someone ransacking the office for the diamonds you keep in the second software book from the right, for future reference, it was just a rough night (which does not mean a night out drinking) and you forgot to prepare for it.

Wishing you a day full of awe, wonder and new experiences

And not exactly the same

Power Snorkeling

This is the process of hugging an electric propeller to your body so you can thrust yourself swiftly through water for the purpose of viewing fish.

Surprisingly, the fish did not seem bothered by the whirring and I wasnt either. It made for a relaxing glide through the water, in case you are too lazy to swim. I understand they come in far more powerful, exciting and thrill-seeking versions than the 'Toys Are Us' one I tried. It was just a nice leisurely stroll through an underwater playground.

Pictures: That is me with two torpedo looking power snorkeling propellers on the left.



This is the gorgeous area where I power snorkeled.



And this is our most recent trip through the Panama Canal, on January 12th.