The couple I mentioned at the end of the previous post, turned out to be a brother and sister out enjoying a cruise. They were older (late 70's, I think) but still full of life. They caught on to what a miser Jerry was in only minutes and turned out to be wonderful people to talk to. They kept offering to buy us drinks and continued to eat in the steak house every night. They thoroughly enjoyed our music and even danced a few times.
As it turns out, the man is dying of colon cancer. He's been given 6-8 months to live. He's already undergone some treatments and has to wear a colostomy bag and the whole nine-yards. (or meters, I should say since we weren't in the states) He lives near his sister just north of Brisbane, our home port, and she has become his primary care giver. His wife died ten years prior and her husband died of a prolonged illness just 2 years ago. Yet, you wouldn't know any of this to look at them. They were out on a cruise, enjoying life, worries be damned.
On the last night, the cruise director gave us a short set with an early start time leaving us 2 hours at the end of the night to finish our packing and get our bags checked in with security, and have dinner there in the steak house if we wanted (this was his way of granting my night off request. Not great, but better than nothing.) This would be one for the ages.
For the record, I absolutely believe in karma.....especially now. We'd been playing the steak house sets on the little stage in the room, but had to put Jerry on an electric keyboard to fit on the stage (despite the fact that there was a baby grand not 6 feet away. Not our idea.) Jerry's hearing is pretty bad, though it's the last thing he'll admit, and he is always way too loud on the electric. It's hurting Rich's ears (and Rich is aware he's lost some of his own hearing) and I wear earplugs every night. We are constantly amazed that passengers don't complain about it, though the cruise director does mention it to Jerry several times and Rich and I turn down the amp almost every time we take a break. Finally, at the end of our second to last cruise, all the cables and amplifier crap out. I spend a half hour trying to get it working again while Rich and Jerry play duets on the grand piano and drums, and finally give up. I suggest continuing on the grand and we're all quite happy with that. Jerry is still too loud, but it's on the grand so it sounds better. (and he can't shift into all the obnoxious string and marimba patches he likes to use on different things).
On the final night, we're playing our short, early set and low and behold, a passenger requests that the piano be softer. Not the trio, the piano. Jerry has the lid full open in a room that doesn't need it (you could probably play that room with the lid completely closed in my opinion) and refused do make any changes. During our break, Rich and I lowered the lid to the short stick, yet Jerry jacked it back up again. We shrugged it off as we'd honestly expected him to do as much. Then, in our last tune, which I think was "The End of a Love Affair", a nice ballad which Jerry was feigning to play with feeling or emotion as it was our last tune together, the same passenger asked again that the piano play softer....in the middle of the final tune. YES, I believe in karma. We finished the tune, packed up our stuff and shook hands (we had to offer up hands to Jerry as he probably would have slid off without saying a word or thanking us) waited for Jerry to leave. Rich and I were all smiles and gave each other a huge hug and slap on the back for surviving to see that moment of karma. He'd finally tried to do something nice or with feeling and wasn't even rushing the slow tunes when a complete stranger blew him up right in the middle of it, and for the second time that night and the only two times the whole contract. It was a perfect moment of karma.
And to top it off, our fans, the couple from before, invited us over and insisted we have dinner and drinks with them. We couldn't refuse any longer and we hadn't eaten yet either. Not only did they buy us dinner and drinks, but they were the only people to entire contract to tip us. $50 each! (I should note that I had carefully planned and spent all but about $30 of my Aussie currency, just enough to make sure I had some cash while traveling home the next day, and this (and another surprise acquisition) suddenly landed me with quite a stack of Aussie cash. I delightful problem to have!) They were great fun to talk to that night, jokes and stories all around, and it turned out that the woman had also won the snowball Bingo jackpot earlier that day worth over 3-Grand! We also decided that Jerry looked almost exactly like Alfred Hitchcock, but with W.C. Fields' whiskey nose. We were still joking and drinking after the dinner service stopped and actually had to dismiss ourselves around quarter-til to make sure our luggage was checked in before 11pm.
By now, everyone was healthy again. Rich and I were excited to be going home, yet sad to leave some of the great great people we'd been able to work with. I stayed up all night, drinking, taking pictures, sharing stories and the like and we disembarked the next morning. We were a little late getting in, but the sunrise breakfast on the aft decks was quite nice and we ran into a lot of other staff getting off so there were some added final goodbyes. Jerry did not disappoint, he did his own thing and was wearing the same awful floral shirt, khakis, leather jacket, red leather beret and bright yellow backpack he'd been carrying when I met him 4 months prior. It was hilarious!
We made it through the airport, more jokes about Jerry here, and I actually ended up seated in a row with one of the casino dealers and with an empty seat between us. Ironically, there was a picture of Alfred Hitchcock holding a Quantas bag in the airline magazine. Rich tore it out and came running back with it. I borrowed a highlighter to make his nose red (it was a black and white image) and there was Jerry! We got a hearty laugh out of this and I hung him from my tray table latch. Couldn't have been better.
So, for the record, the cruise ship contract was an amazing experience. I now totally believe in karma, I know how to deal with asshole bosses, I've been able to share time and stories and drinks and cigars with one of the best musicians on the planet that you'll never hear of, and I've been places and hung out with people I would never otherwise have seen or met. Truly a diverse and amazing experience.
Now, if I could just find a job........
Friday, July 6, 2007
dinner for two
And now, the final chapter of my last week on the ship.
Richard Franks is the drummer for the trio in which I play, and also the man with whom I share a cabin. He is possibly the greatest set player I've ever played with (and I've played with many, several of them quite good and well known) and a beautiful human being. (No, I'm not gay.) He's also a year older than my father. Rich's experience as a performer, both on land and on ships, has been invaluable to our survival with a band leader as poor as we had. The man kept me sane through the working aspects my four months on the ship and I owe him quite a lot.
So I asked Sandy, our deputy cruise director, to schedule us a night off so I could take Richard to dinner in the steak house on the ship. **The irony here is that, despite being the "show band", we play most often for the dinner seatings in the steak house, yet we've never eaten in there.....save the odd dessert we managed to barter off somebody.** The dinner didn't happen, but fate smiled on me that day. We were supposed to be playing for a guest entertainer that night, a Kiwi whose name I've forgotten, and when he walked into rehearsal and realized there was only a trio to back him up (and he'd been warned about Jerry), he decided that he'd just use his backing CD and told us to take the night off. His actual words involved a massage, drinks and dancing girls, but that story is for another time. I seized the opportunity to do the steak house dinner that night and ran down to make our reservation.
**Back story before I continue**
Two of the female dancers (who live across the corridor from us) are on lockdown with chicken pox (or something like it) and have been since a day or two prior to the end of the previous cruise. Because they aren't allowed out or visitors allowed in, they've had to rearrange the entertainment schedule for the week. They moved the Guest Ent. scheduled for the second night to the first night and didn't have any show at all in the main lounge on Noumea night (we don't sail from this port til about 11pm anyway, so it wasn't really missed.) Then they moved the second Guest Ent, whose stage name I just remembered was Ash (no really....and it was a dude), up a night as well.
Things the first night, had not gone to plan at all. We were supposed to back up the Guest Ent. that night during his comedy bit to play him on and off and back up his harmonica musings. Well, Rich had developed a short history of health problems, mainly related to severe headaches, in the last weeks of the contract. He had mean free of the headaches for about a week then had one again that night, though much milder. He stopped in the medical center to have it checked out and they held him all night. Meanwhile, he can't get out to tell me or Jerry this and it's 10 minutes to show time and Rich is MIA. Finally, I track him down and run upstairs and let Jerry know what's up. We scramble and tell the production guys to play the Guest Ent. on with a canned track and then go looking for the cruise director. We find Chris and he tells us to bail on the show and go play in the steak house. I can't get my stuff off the stage til the show is over (long story there) but eventually I get down there and join Jerry in some bass and piano duets for the night.
OK.....back to the story. Richard is fine now and we're having our hard earned dinner in the steakhouse on a rare night off. We had to be in some kind of uniform and figured our blacks would be the least conspicuous. Yet, there's a couple near us that recognized us as 2/3 of the trio. They'd been eating in the steak house every night and also noticed what grouch Jerry was, even while playing by himself the first night of the cruise before I showed up. Toward the end of our dinner, (which was delicious, by the way. The mushroom sauce for the steak was amazing.) one of them leaned over and asked, "Where's Grumpy?" We had no idea what they were talking about, but then found out they were talking about Jerry. We couldn't contain our laughter any longer. We joked with this couple the rest of the evening, then went out the the aft decks and smoked some cigars. A pretty great evening, all things told, and we never played a note together that day as the rehearsal that never actually happened, took the place of the usual lunch time pool set.
But the couple would play a much bigger role in our final days. Their story in the next post.
Richard Franks is the drummer for the trio in which I play, and also the man with whom I share a cabin. He is possibly the greatest set player I've ever played with (and I've played with many, several of them quite good and well known) and a beautiful human being. (No, I'm not gay.) He's also a year older than my father. Rich's experience as a performer, both on land and on ships, has been invaluable to our survival with a band leader as poor as we had. The man kept me sane through the working aspects my four months on the ship and I owe him quite a lot.
So I asked Sandy, our deputy cruise director, to schedule us a night off so I could take Richard to dinner in the steak house on the ship. **The irony here is that, despite being the "show band", we play most often for the dinner seatings in the steak house, yet we've never eaten in there.....save the odd dessert we managed to barter off somebody.** The dinner didn't happen, but fate smiled on me that day. We were supposed to be playing for a guest entertainer that night, a Kiwi whose name I've forgotten, and when he walked into rehearsal and realized there was only a trio to back him up (and he'd been warned about Jerry), he decided that he'd just use his backing CD and told us to take the night off. His actual words involved a massage, drinks and dancing girls, but that story is for another time. I seized the opportunity to do the steak house dinner that night and ran down to make our reservation.
**Back story before I continue**
Two of the female dancers (who live across the corridor from us) are on lockdown with chicken pox (or something like it) and have been since a day or two prior to the end of the previous cruise. Because they aren't allowed out or visitors allowed in, they've had to rearrange the entertainment schedule for the week. They moved the Guest Ent. scheduled for the second night to the first night and didn't have any show at all in the main lounge on Noumea night (we don't sail from this port til about 11pm anyway, so it wasn't really missed.) Then they moved the second Guest Ent, whose stage name I just remembered was Ash (no really....and it was a dude), up a night as well.
Things the first night, had not gone to plan at all. We were supposed to back up the Guest Ent. that night during his comedy bit to play him on and off and back up his harmonica musings. Well, Rich had developed a short history of health problems, mainly related to severe headaches, in the last weeks of the contract. He had mean free of the headaches for about a week then had one again that night, though much milder. He stopped in the medical center to have it checked out and they held him all night. Meanwhile, he can't get out to tell me or Jerry this and it's 10 minutes to show time and Rich is MIA. Finally, I track him down and run upstairs and let Jerry know what's up. We scramble and tell the production guys to play the Guest Ent. on with a canned track and then go looking for the cruise director. We find Chris and he tells us to bail on the show and go play in the steak house. I can't get my stuff off the stage til the show is over (long story there) but eventually I get down there and join Jerry in some bass and piano duets for the night.
OK.....back to the story. Richard is fine now and we're having our hard earned dinner in the steakhouse on a rare night off. We had to be in some kind of uniform and figured our blacks would be the least conspicuous. Yet, there's a couple near us that recognized us as 2/3 of the trio. They'd been eating in the steak house every night and also noticed what grouch Jerry was, even while playing by himself the first night of the cruise before I showed up. Toward the end of our dinner, (which was delicious, by the way. The mushroom sauce for the steak was amazing.) one of them leaned over and asked, "Where's Grumpy?" We had no idea what they were talking about, but then found out they were talking about Jerry. We couldn't contain our laughter any longer. We joked with this couple the rest of the evening, then went out the the aft decks and smoked some cigars. A pretty great evening, all things told, and we never played a note together that day as the rehearsal that never actually happened, took the place of the usual lunch time pool set.
But the couple would play a much bigger role in our final days. Their story in the next post.
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