On the good ship geriatric
Well, here we are. The time has come to go. We’ll miss everyone this week. And we suspect it’s going to take many a high-priced cruise drinks to get us through the week. Well, as Miranda so brilliantly pointed out in an email last night, at least we’ll have many new shipfriends to toast with.
Cheers! Have a great week everyone!
I lost me cookie in the disco
Tomorrow morning, Miranda and I will be heading off to San Diego to join her parents, sister and bro-in-law for what is basically the “Love Boat” cruise south of the border. And the first things that pop into my head when I think “cruise” are shuffleboard and disco. This is perfectly natural since all of my ideas about life are essentially products of my incessant viewing of 70s sitcoms in my formative years. However, I thought for sure the discos of my youth, complete with light up floors, space age styled furniture and hyper-color laser beam lights, would be a thing of the past. But I am glad to report I was wrong. So, so wrong. The Northern Lights Disco aboard the MS Oosterdam definitely delivers the authentic 70s vibe and more. It even has a sort of Eurotrash charm, perhaps because of the Dutch influence. If only Isaac, Julie and Gopher would be there, sipping Asti Spumante and talking about Doc’s latest bag. *sigh*
Anyway, hope everyone has a great week, and I’m more than sure we will return with many stories that promise to entertain and possibly horrify. Here’s to me not yiffing over the side.
Everyday is like the first workday after winter break
Blame the lack of sunlight during these winter days or my penchant for brief pitstops in sentimentality, but I’ve been on a Smiths kick lately. There’s something so tangible and timeless about these songs, they immediately bring me way back, like high school back. And you know what? The music is as brilliant and relevant as ever. Say what you want about Morrissey’s whining, it’s the angst, wit, self-irony and thinly (single-ply toilet tissue thin) veiled references to being a flaming hot outcast in a rough and tumble world that helped us teenage nerds feel like there was someone out there that understood our social challenges. And I guess I’ll always be that nerd at heart, so the lyrics resonate today just the same. Plus, there’s really nothing like lying in piles on the floor singing these odes to melancholy together. It’s actually very uplifting… in fact, a Smiths Singalong is dearly needed soon. I’ll start Hoovering the rug now.
So, in honor of another nerdy year ahead, here are the lyrics to one of my favorite Smiths’ songs to get you through the drudgery of the first week back to work.
Stretch Out and Wait
On the high-rise estate
What’s at the back of your mind?
Oh, a three-day debate
On a high-rise estate
What’s at the back of your mind?
Two icy-cold hands conducting the way
It’s the Eskimo blood in my veins
Amid concrete and clay
And general decay
Nature must still find a way
So, ignore all the codes of the day
Let your juvenile impulses sway
This way and that way
This way and that way
God, how sex implores you
To let yourself lose yourself
Stretch out and wait
Stretch out and wait
Oh, let your puny body, lie down, lie down
As we lie, you say
Will the world end in the night time?
(I really don’t know)
Or will the world end in the day time?
(I really don’t know)
And is there any point ever having children?
(Oh, I don’t know)
What I do know is we’re here and it’s now
So, stretch out and wait
Stretch out and wait
There is no debate, no debate, no debate
How can you consciously contemplate
When there’s no debate, no debate?
