Setting:  Late Evening - Saturday.   Tempest and Thunder eating dinner in a nearly deserted dining room on their first night of the cruise.

Tempest: (making an out-of-nowhere reference to something earlier) Why did that guy think we were on our honeymoon? Do we look newly married? Us?

Thunder: (knowing exactly what she’s talking about) Maybe he thinks I’m your new trophy husband. Your new boy-toy.

Te: Excuse Me?

Th: No? That’s not the cover story we’re going to use? Okay, how about this…maybe we should have told him, “No, we’re not newly married, but yes, it is the first chance we’ve had for a honeymoon. We had to wait until Mother** died.”

Te: (looking at her watch) “Yes, and she should be gone….Right. About. Now.”

Th: “Sir, will we be in International Waters soon?”

Te: Okay, this scenario’s not going to work for Alaska or Canada. We’ll have to save it for a Singapore cruise.

Th: Okay. How about we tell people, “No, we’re not newly married, but yes, it’s the first chance we’ve had for a honeymoon. I married her in the Ukraine but I had to raise the money selling Thighmasters to bring her to America.”

Te: Lithuania.

Th: What?

Te: Not the Ukraine…Lithuania.

Th: Does it make a difference?

Te: Yes, I can only do one Eastern European accent, and I prefer to think of it as Lithuanian. Sounds like this…(does her best Lithuanian accent)…

Th: Dude, you sound like Sean Connery.

Te: Yeah…Sean Connery in The Hunt for Red October. He was Lithuanian in that movie.

Th: Uh…he was Sean Connery in that movie. Okay, this is not going to work either.

Te: You could just tell people, “No, we’re not newly married, but we own a bridge club where people drive us crazy 7 days a week and we desperately need this adventure.”

Th: Sounds crazy, but it might work.

Te: (in Sean Connery accent) Can I still be Lithuanian?

Th: Dude…no.

Te: Damn.

and SCENE

**Disclaimer: No Mothers were harmed in this scene**

Thunder and I arrived at Pier 91 and entered the terminal, luggage in tow and documents in hand. We’ve never been on a cruise before and had no idea what to expect. We were, however, sure of one thing: getting 2600 people through security, registration and baggage surrender was going to be a royal clusterf**k. We’re so jaded, aren’t we?

I’m happy to report that from the moment we entered the terminal the people at Princess Cruises were incredibly friendly and competent. There are folks who greeted us and whose sole purpose was to smilingly point the way to the baggage area, health form area, and the registration area. Did I mention the smiling? It must have been contagious because one such gentleman looked at us and asked if we were honeymooners. He said were smiling so much he figured we were just married. Thunder and I got a good chuckle out of that, but more on this particular encounter later.

Lines move quickly and smoothly. The Princess people knew exactly what they were doing, and got us – all of us – on the back in less time that it takes us to park the car at Citifield and get to our seats.

Our room is bigger than I imagined it would be. You hear horror stories about the tiny cabins, but our room was like a hotel room. Bathroom was reasonably roomy, but we were surprised by the shower setup – open with drains all over the floor. But really what were pleased with was the balcony. Now if this were an apartment balcony, it would be a resounding failure, but we weren’t planning on barbecuing out there.. I’d guess about 4-5 feet deep and about 10 feet wide. Certainly wide enough to fit two chairs and a little side table. That’s all we need, really. We just want to watch the scenery go by. With the sliding door to the cabin open, it’s really an extension of the room. The added bonus is that we’re on the Baja Deck. That means that we have a roof on our balcony – no one above us can see down onto our deck (they way we can with balconies below). We also have solid partitions between balconies on our deck. It is reasonably private. Really lovely.

We watched Seattle and Canada go by as we left port – very cool. Speaking of cool…I know they told me we needed jackets. Wow – it got cold very fast. Between the wind and water effects, we need some covering every time we’re outside or on the balcony. I exercised by walking the Promenade deck around the ship and had to watch water underfoot and spray hitting me in the face. Loved. It.

Anyway, tomorrow is cruising at sea until we reach Juneau on Monday. We’ll see what kinds of activities we might engage in from the list on the daily newsletter. I’m all for anything that doesn’t involve me actually interacting with people. Thunder is looking for poker tournaments. Whatever we end up doing, we’ll be sure to bring mittens.

Okay, so…Bubble Tea?

I recently read about Bubble Tea – a West Coast drink sensation originally from Taiwan. I only skimmed the magazine article in which it was explained so I didn’t fully understand what it was. When I saw a kiosk for Bobocino Bubble Tea in Seattle, I figured I should give it a try. I love tea. I love bubbles. How could this be bad?

Oh. My. God.

I requested Tea with Sweetened Milk. I could have had a fruity or spicy flavor, but I wanted to play it safe. I figured I’d start out with something I knew and then take it from there. (I could have gotten a Slurpee-like version also, but again, I went with what I thought was…iced tea.)

Then the young man behind the counter asked me something strange:

Young Man: What kind of Bobo do you want?

Tempest: Huh?

YM: Bobo…you know bubbles.

Te: Huh?

Okay, so I guess I should have read that magazine article a little more closely.

Young Man suggested that since it was my first time, I should choose the basic flavor – Tapioca – just to try it out. Um…okay.

But I’m…well…confused… Aren’t bubbles just bubbles? Isn’t he giving me some kind of iced tea with lots of bubbles – like carbonation – on top?

But no. Young Man hands me a 16oz plastic, clear cup – sealed on top – and a long, wide straw. He says I should shove the straw through the seal and drink the bobas through it. I then actually look at the cup. The bottom third of this cup is filled with black marble-y looking things. Huh?

I take a sip and am immediately surprised that one of these balls slides up the straw and into my mouth. It is chewy, a little slimy and…odd.

Now I’m no snot connoisseur, but I’m pretty sure that Young Man just gave me a cup of iced tea sweetened with large black snot. Shrek snot, if you will.

However, I am struck with a wonderful, wonderful thought. Out of the Westlake Center I run, run, run back to my hotel and up to the 36^th floor, running into the room where Thunder is reading.

Tempest: Here. Taste this iced tea.

Thunder: (taking one look at this weird thing) No! You taste it.

Te: I already have. You should try it.

Th: No.

Te: You love me? You trust me?

Th: Yes…and absolutely not. Stop shoving that thing at me.

Te: Please?

Thunder takes it from me and very tentatively takes a sip. I’m nearly giddy as I watch a black boba slide up the straw and into his mouth. He suddenly looks as though someone goosed him. He looks sideways at the cup.

Th: Dude! Did you just feed me snot?

Te: Yes, yes I did.

Th: Dude!

After 10 years of marriage, I finally burned my one and only “You trust me?” on a cupful of snot. Soooooooo worth it.

Okay…flight to Seattle at 9:00am. Leave house at 6:30am to get to airport, check bags, settle in. Excited, excited! Never been on a cruise before.

ALASKA! Glaciers! Bears! Lots of…other stuff!

I really have no idea what we’ll see. I’ve read the guidebook, but honestly, I’ve been so busy at work these past few months that I have no idea what to expect. I could have done more research if there had been more time. The whole cruise thing is new for me. This part of the country is new for me. We’re winging it…we’ll just see how it goes.

My alarm is set for 5:00am, but I am wide awake an hour before. Thunder, lazy bum, is still asleep.

it’s occurring to me that he doesn’t seem as excited as I am. I need him to get on board!

Tempest: (poking, poking, poking a sleepy Thunder) Hey, I have something to ask you.

Thunder: (muffled muttering) Grfrrfr…what…

Te: (reciting from memory) “If Mississippi bought Missouri a New Jersey, what would Delaware?”

Th: (looking through barely opened eyes) What?

Te: (giggling but repeating it in a drawn out version) If Miss Issippi bought Miss Ouri a New Jersey, what would Dela Ware?

Th: What the…? Okay, what?

Te: “I don’t know, Alaska.” Alaska. You know, “I’ll ask her?”

Th: Did you just make that up?

Te: You never heard that one as a kid?

Th: Uh…no…

Te: I’m trying to get you in the right frame of mind.

Th: Know what would get me in the right frame of mind? You moving back to your side of the bed and letting me sleep for an hour.

Te: Meany

So I let him sleep for an hour. We got up, fed the dogs, waited for Thunder’s dad to come over and we’re off to the airport. Then during the flight to Seattle, I leaned over to Thunder while he was reading his Nook.

Poke, poke, poke.

Te: “If Mississippi bought…

Th: Uh…we went through this already…

Te: Okay, you have to get more excited, dude.

Th: (returning his attention to his Nook) …Whoo?…

Te: *sigh*

Arrived in Seattle, and checked into the hotel. After having a quick lunch, we needed a nap to catch up on our missing sleep (plus we’re 4 times zones away so our body clocks are a little off). As we’re dozing off, I decide to give it one more try.

Poke, poke, poke.

Te: (about to speak) “…

Th: You’d better be poking me for something other than that…fashion…question.

Te: *blink* *blink*

Th: I’ll be excited about Alaska after a nap. Unless, of course, you’re poking me for another reason.

Te: (muttering, feigning sleep) Grfrrfr…

Th: (sleepy) Yeah, that’s a better idea…

Hopefully, we’ll both get more excited before we sail tomorrow. Otherwise, this is going to be long week.

Tempest: Okay, so…LeBron James?

Thunder:    Yeah?

Te: He’s some kind of big deal?

Th: *blink*  *blink* (slowly) Some people think so…

Te: Man, this guy’s all over the radio, the TV, the Intertubes…he’s…some kind of athlete, right?  Basketball?

Th: …yeah…basketball…

Te: So…what?  Is he a college player being drafted?  High school player?

Th: *sigh* Seriously?  You don’t know who this guy is?

Te: Yeah, yeah!  He’s some kind of basketball player.  He’s making…some kind of decision that apparently everyone cares about.  Um…He’s…I guess, very good at what he does?  What’s he…like Kareem Abdul-Jabbar?

Th: You can’t think of a more recent, famous basketball player than Kareem?  What, you couldn’t come up with Bill Walton or Wilt Chamberlain?

Te: Alright, settle down!  I’m sure I would have come up with…Jordan!…if you had given me a few minutes.  The last time I paid any attention to basketball was, I don’t know, a long time ago.  I can only remember guys who started when I was…maybe…in high school?

Th: You didn’t go to high school in the 1960s, but okay…

Te: Let me tell you what I DO know about this LeBron guy, and you can fill in the rest.  By the way, is it “Leh”  or “Lay?”  It feels like I want to say “Lay” but I don’t think he’s French, right?

Th: You’re killin’ me, you know that?

Te: Okay, here’s what I know:  There’s some kind of hubbub in Cleveland about him.  Apparently, he’s a good player, and there’s this basketball team there, right?  The Cleveland…Burning Cuyahogas…

Th: …Cavaliers!…

Te: …Cavaliers…and they either want him or don’t want him or need him or something.  But then he wants something else or somewhere else….am I close?

Th: Only in the sense that you’re close to knowing nothing at all, sure.

Te: (ignoring him) Okay, so what else is there?

Th: Okay.  James played for Cleveland for 5 or 6 years. Broke records, named Rookie of the Year, MVP, All-Star, basically - everything.  Teams have been waiting for him to become a free agent from the moment he signed with Cleveland.  He’s probably not going to resign with them.  Even though the Cavs have been to the playoffs and the finals, they haven’t won the NBA Championship, and that’s what he wants to do.  Frankly, I have a problem with these guys who are only in it for themselves and switch teams to try and get a title instead of remembering that it’s a team effort, but that’s how it is now.  Anyway, several teams are said to be in the running, like the New York… (waiting)

Te: …Knicks!  I KNOW that one.

Th: Also the Chicago…

Te: C’mon!  (and then realizing that she might not be completely sure) Bulls?

Th: …and the Miami…

Te: (stumped) umm… (muttering) Dolphins and Marlins are taken…. (bravely) Swordfish!

Th: *blink*  *blink* Tell me again, why are we having this conversation?

Te: (thinking) You know…trying to show an interest…keep the conversation going…aren’t married people supposed to find new topics so that things don’t get stale?

Th: Yeah, well I’m pretty sure that we have 800 channels on the TV so that we can manage our own interests and NOT have conversations exactly like this one.

Te: OH! (turning on her heel and leaving the room) Thanks for reminding me! Dr. G. is on – I gotta go watch an autopsy.

Th: My point, exactly. (yelling after her) Thanks for stopping by!

and…Scene

Setting:  Early evening.  Tempest and Thunder are driving to a restaurant in the next town to enjoy a leisurely dinner.  Thunder is driving, and Tempest is looking out the window.  As they drive down the local highway, they pass a business with a full parking lot.

Tempest: (reading the business sign out loud) Route 46… Adult… Romance Boutique.  Hmmm…they make it sound like such a warm and friendly place, you know?

Thunder: What makes you think it isn’t a friendly place?  Maybe all those cars are just the locals catching up with each other.  You know, like an old-time General Store kind of thing?

Te: Hmmm…so it would be okay with you if I got a part-time job there?  See what’s it all about?  HEY!  Maybe it would be interesting to see how many of OUR clients show up to shop there!

Th: (pause) Yeah…you realize…that sword has two edges…right?

Te: (thinking) Huh!  Yeahhhh…   Okay, maybe I wouldn’t want them to see me there, either.

Th: You find our clients annoying now.  You hate cleaning up after them and hate it when they make odd requests.  And we own our business.  Now…translate that behavior to this job…AND you’re a mere employee…

Te: Ugh…and yet!  Might be some interesting but disturbing conversations, no?

Th: (pausing…thinking) “Sorry, sir, but I don’t think batteries are included.”

Te: (pause) “I’m sorry that it chafes, sir, but we can’t accept returns on this item.”

Th: (getting into it now) “No, sir, I don’t think she made a sequel to ‘Twilight Saga: New Boobs’.”

Te: “I’ll check in the back, but I don’t think they make this with a curve to the left, sir.”

Th: “I’m not a doctor, but, no, I don’t think it’s supposed to turn that color, sir.”

Te: “I believe that’s the reason the manufacturer suggests extra lube with this product, sir.”

Th: “I can’t really answer that question since I don’t know just how much friction you require, sir.”

Te: “You can name her if you’d like, sir, but hey, why not wait until you get home, okay?”

Th: “You’ll find a Wet Wipes dispenser just inside the door, sir.”

Te: Ewwww…okay, done?

Th: (thinking) “Are you sure these are the correct measurements for your dog, sir?”

Te: DONE!

and…Scene

I would bet that many, many Americans know the first two lines:

O Canada!  Our Home and Native Land!

But I’m not sure that many, many Americans know the next two lines, or even all of the the anthem.

I do, and this is where I think I got myself into trouble.

I was at a register at Bed, Bath and Beyond doing what I, unfortunately, do a lot at registers.  I was singing softly to myself.  I want to make it clear that I was not disturbing other customers.  But apparently the young man behind the register heard me as I sang myself through the song - well past the first two lines.  And that’s what I think triggered his question.

As he was bagging my purchase, he asked me, “Oh, are you Canadian?”

Well, what was I supposed to say?

If I say yes, I look a little weird.  I mean, Who sings a national anthem while they wait on line?

But if I say no, I look A LOT weird.  I mean, Who sings SOMEBODY ELSE’S national anthem while they wait on line?

So you can understand that naturally I said, ” Yes, Yes I am.”    And then to make it seem authentic, I followed it with, “We’re doing pretty well at the Games, eh?”

I had to add the “eh,” right?

I have come to recognize Thunder’s perplexed look when I relate these things to him as, “Till Death Do Us Part?”

1.  At This Moment by Billy Vera and the Beaters

2.  Tell Me About It by Tanya Tucker and Delbert McClinton

3.  Come On Down To My Boat by Every Mother’s Son

4.  Four Seasons “Spring” (Vivaldi) by London Philharmonic

5.  It’s Raining Men by The Weather Girls

I’m pretty sure that if I go to ITunes, they’ll sell me some music from the current century, no?

Don’t have one. OK?

Just, JUST, getting back to some sense of normal after nearly 2 months.  Only in the past few days have I been able to get through the entire day with sleeping or icing or general agony-related lifestyle.  Chiropractic and PT help.

I’ll think of funny things soon…hopefully…

Here’s what I didn’t know at this point: The big finish would not be how great my hair looked (although it did).  The big finish would be the “high-value entertainment” that was about to begin.

As Ruby goes off to gather supplies to finish my hair, I spy in my mirror a grandmotherly woman and a young boy in the chairs behind me.  The young boy is chattering, chattering away and Grandma is trying to keep up and occasionally shaking her head.  I learn in the next few minutes from Ruby that Grandma is Maria, the mother of the salon’s owner.  The young boy is Zachy, Maria’s grandson and the owner’s nephew. Zachy.  Not Zach.   Zachy.  He is 8 years old and Zachy…  Never. Stops. Talking.

Zachy wanders over and stands right next to me, looking at me in my mirror.  At this point, my naturally curly hair has begun to “sproing” long loose, carefree curls all around my face.  Zachy smiles at me, and says, ” I like your curls.”  But it comes out, “I! Like! Your! Curls!”  He’s not shouting; he’s merely emphatic. Everything he says oozes confidence and expertise.  And it’s this approach that makes the rest of our time together so highly entertaining.  No matter what information he offers, he is completely self-assured of his facts.  It’s as though he’s gone to Oxford and Cambridge and Harvard and Yale, and is the supreme authority on his subjects.  But there’s no swagger or conceit, just exuberance about every pronouncement he makes.

Strap in…it’s worth the ride…

Ruby returns to the station while Zachy and I are talking and removes my wet hairdressing cape in order to replace it with a clean one.  Under the cape I am wearing my usual ragged and low-cut hair-salon shirt - don’t want to wear anything good during this entire process.  As the cape comes off and Zachy looks at the cleavage and the soft curls…

Zachy:   Whoa!!  (steps back, planting both feet and pointing both index fingers at me)  You are SEXY!

Tempest:  (momentarily stunned and trying not to laugh)   Huh?  Wha?

Z:   …not like Beyonce…but…you know…for a fat lady…

T:  (barely able to contain my amusement)  Excuse me, but can’t fat ladies be sexy too?

Z:  (looking at me like he can’t believe his ears)   Yuh!  Look in the mirror!

At this point Ruby is nearly beside herself and has to walk away.  Grandma Maria is still visible in the mirror behind me and she’s shaking her head and rolling her eyes.  Ruby returns and continues the process of blowing out and straightening my hair during the entire next series of conversations.  During this entire exchange I have to keep reminding Ruby to keep the hot straightening tool moving through my hair to avoid burning it completely off.  She would freeze in disbelief during some of Zachy’s more interesting pronouncements. Everything Zachy says, though, is thoughtfully offered.  He considers each sentence he’s saying, as though he wants to be sure I understand the importance of his information.  He uses very mature voice inflection for a kid.  Most of the time he maintains eye contact which is kind of unusual for most kids, but I really think Zachy wants me to truly understand the importance of it all.  If an adult acted this way, it might come off creepy.  But a kid…it’s absolutely hysterical.  Here are some of his most interesting monologues/exchanges:

Z:   How come you’re straightening her hair?

Ruby:  She wants her hair straight today.

Z:  *sigh*  Okayyyy… I guess you have to give the ladies what they want…

then to me:

Z:    Hey!  I know how Scotland got its name.   Well, there was this land (drawing a flat circle in the air, palm down).  And this guy, Scott…he found it!   And everyone agreed that Scott found all this land.  Soooo, they decided to name it Scotland…he’s probably dead by now…I think Scotland is pretty old…it’s probably older than you…(then, gesturing with right hand, thumb out, backwards toward Maria still sitting in the chair behind me)…but SHE’S gotta be older than Scotland!

later…

Z:  Did you know that pretty soon all birds will only have one leg like flamingos?  It’s called he-volution. They don’t really need two legs, you know.  They fly all the time!  They only need a leg once in a while. They’re either flying or sitting.  That’s what happens when things change; they get modern.  Like my dining room chairs…they have four legs, but they’re old.  My new kitchen chairs…one leg.  It’s like a pole and the part on the floor is like a circle.  Looks a little like a bird foot.  See…new stuff…better.  You should keep watching birds…pretty soon they’ll allllllll have one leg just like flamingos.

later…

Z:  I know where pears come from.  Pears are fruit, but they start out as vegetables, did you know that?

T:  (I can’t help myself at this point)   Really?  How does that work?

Z:  (so proud of himself…he’s going to take me through the process step-by-step)    Well!   All pears start out as peas…did you know that?  They do!  Some farmers just grow peas, BUT some farmers let the peas keep growing and growing.  They get bigger and bigger.  When you let something grow a long time, it tastes different, did you know that?  When they get really big, they become pears…they stick an “R” in the word, and supermarkets sell them as fruit.

T:  But Zachy, not all pears are green.  Some are yellow and some are brown.  Have you ever seen those in the store?

Z: (not to be dissuaded)  Awwww…they’re just trying to fool you with those.  They’re no good.   You shouldn’t eat those.  You can’t believe everything you read, you know.

T:  Zachy, how do you know so much about so many things?

Z:  (thinking about that for a minute and excitedly offering)  You know what?  I think it’s been in my head the whole time.  I think I was born with it.  And I just DISCOVERED it one day!  Isn’t that great!

At this point I’ve spent about 20 minutes of listening to Zachy’s non-stop view of the world, trying so, so hard not to laugh in this earnest little boy’s face.  As Ruby finishes my hair and puts some final touches in it, Zachy looks at me in the mirror.

Z:  Yeahhhh…she’s good to go…

Maria (from behind me)   Zachy!   Get over here!   (I guess at this point her eyes were about to pop out from all the eye-rolling).

Zachy wandered away without a goodbye.  I was longer a captive audience; I’d outlived my usefulness.  Ruby leaned in and said, “He comes in once in a while, and he is always, always funny.  I don’t know where he comes up with this stuff.”

My guess:  someone’s been feeding him all kinds of misinformation and getting a kick out of it.  Zachy is going to grow up and discover everything he knows is wrong and he’s going to be pissed.  That…or he’s going to grow up and become a game-show host.

So after all the “refreshing” and “glazing” and “cushioning” I paid for, it was the “floor show” that made the price of admission worthwhile.  Clearly I’m going to have coordinate my schedule with Zachy’s in the future to get my money’s worth.