Traveling with the Ancient.
Today, we went on a 5 1/2 hour tour of Havana in a 1952 Chevy Deluxe. The Deluxe features are in the league of a hamburger deluxe, as the extra amenities were about as deluxe as lettuce and tomato in the aforementioned burgers. We saw a great deal in our Castro Convertible, as we Thelma and Louised it through Old Havana, Calle del Reyes, Revolution Plaza, and the Hotel de Nacional. If you need to take a piss-o, you better have a peso. After you take a piss-o, you better have another peso; if you care to wipe-o. Cuba Libre, my dripping ass-o! Forget the Cuban Missile Crisis, Che Guevara actually started the revolution after some strong Cuban coffee and eating some Ropa that got too viejo. At the Hotel de Nacional, we channeled our best Meyer Lansky and Lucky Luciano, except we had quite a problem with the demands of omerta, especially the Godmother.
Tonight, we are back on the ship, as my mother wanted to be at the big White Night. Unlike on that family cruise for my parents 50 Anniversary cruise, where my Mom obliviously made family shirts; which read “Kaplan Kruise Krewe” (KKK), this White Party only referred to all-White attire not the all-White attendees doing the white man’s overbite, while boogying to “Play that Funky Music White Boy”. Did we learn nothing today from the Afro-Cuban dancers at the Santeria temple? Better a dance move than an animal sacrifice. Right now, I’m listening to a Gay Jewish guy from Long Island perform “My girl”. I think he’s referring to his cleaning lady. Even my Mom just called Uncle on this, so I will make my rapido exit until Manana.
Rubber Chicken 