Author: kbtwomey

Captain’s Log-Day 7-EpiLOGue. Maiden Voyage (Captain’s Origin Story).

Well, we are back at my Mom’s independent living facility, whose dining room is curiously identical to the ship’s, as bingo is strategically placed within 10 walker push radius of the lox and bagels. So far, the Brilliance of the Seas has not manifested into the Brilliance of Disease, as my mom and I have nary a sniffle or barnacle growth between us.

Living near NYC, I didn’t understand how the Donald (Orange is the New Blech!) could be our next President, but my fellow sea travelers like this guy pictured above helps to explain everything. On every cruise, there’s always an actual bald guy on who wears a visor with fake hair attached to it for the entire cruise. Not only does he find this the most hysterical thing ever, but 20 other rednecks high five him every time they see him on the ship. If it pleases the court, I give to you exhibit A of the evidence as to why Trump was elected to President, as 1 funny hair visor guy+20 chortling rednecks=1 Electoral Vote. You can leave your hanging Chad Lowe’s out of that equation!

I’ve also learned that we can end terrorism by ending cruise travel. To the untrained eye, we see happy Americans enjoying a vacation, while the travel industry supports less fortunate cultures by training them to serve the US travelers. What we don’t see on Decks 1 & 2 in the bowels of the ship through the hazy steam of the laundry room is that each cruise ship is really an Al-Qaeda training ground. While we gorge on massive buffets and order multiple dinner entrees “just to have a taste”, our waiters are sharing rations of cow hoof and chicken ass stew, as they chew 32 times per bite on their hatred of Americans. One day a cabin boy from Indonesia makes sure he fluffs your extra pillows, then the next day you’re found not breathing with a towel-elephant lodged in your esophagus. One minute you’re dancing to “Hot, Hot, Hot,” meanwhile the temperature of the crew rises, as they work 80 hours a week to send $12 home to back-ass Mongolia, until they eventually Captain Phillips our collective asses.

Anyhoo, all kidding aside, we actually had a nice trip, so anyone taking me seriously, please don’t. I highly suggest to any of my friends who have the fortune of still having your parents well enough to have an adventure with, even if that means tolerating horrible school assemblies on steroids for “entertainment,” go take the time

Wishing everyone a Happy Hanukkah, Merry Christmas, and better times ahead in the New Year❤️️

Captain’s Log-Day 8. Maiden Voyage (The Captain’s Origin Story).

Not Traveling with the Ancient Anymore.

Flashback-My parents 50th wedding anniversary family cruise. My mom made us all wear specially made t-shirts to mark the event as “Kaplan Kruise Krew”. Of course, every black person on the cruise were happy to at sea with the KKK. As my father was disabled and not in control of his bladder for years by then, my mom did all their packing. By the second day, they couldn’t find all his stylish habband sansabelt shorts and pants. My 5’2″ dad and my mom insisted that the slight Filipino cabin steward was stealing my Dad’s pants. My sisters and I kept questioning what the black market price was on old man’s pee-spittled pants would bring. Of course, when they returned home, his clothes were all on the bed.

When we got back to my Mom’s senior living apartment today, she unpacked and couldn’t find her favorite necklace or all her shoes. Of course, she blamed the place’s cleaning lady for both even after unpacking her shoes herself. Closing out this chapter, suffice it to say that her tall cleaning lady isn’t walking around in my Mom’s size 5 shoes and we found the necklace was in a secret hiding place.

Welcome to New York-circa 1975!

For those who think business travel is glamorous, I’m staying at the Four Points across from Port Authority. The neighborhood near this bus depot is so nasty that I used to joke that I am no longer of an age where towing my luggage behind me might cause a pimp to mistake me for a cornfed runaway looking to make it in the big city only to end up in his stable. There’s also a strip club next to the hotel where if you’d walk inside, you’d see women of my age and dimensions shaking and working the pole in granny panties.

However tonight is at an all-time low, as if you filmed this block to represent the big bad city, filmgoers would think that the staging was over the top. First, from the safety of my car, I saw a man running with a toddler holding him ala the Kramer vs Kramer injury scene, although I’d be surprised if this kid wasn’t dead. After parking in a garage around the corner, I got treated to a hobo spending a quiet night at home(less) pleasuring himself into an old phone booth stall. (Is there no doubt why Superman stopped coming around?) Minutes later, I was offered crack for purchase, but took a pass. Next, while venturing into a construction walkway, pizza rat sans his endearing pizza crossed a foot in front of me. I emerged from the walkway only to miss stepping into a fresh pool of urine provided by another homeless gent. After this journey, I arrived at my crappy hotel where the rate tonight is more than the GNP of most 3rd world countries.

I’m actually more than a bit anxious about leaving here at 530am to be at Mount Sinai Hospital at 600am. I hope to arrive there as a vendor and not as a patient due to the anticipated morning greeters on the street. I may be the only person in NYC, who’s looking forward to moving on up to stay in Harlem tomorrow night. Even in his current crazy state, bring back Guilani!!!!

Mediterranean Cruise.

Bear Hunting!

After hitting a beach on the Italian Riviera, we hit the adult pool. My sister, Lauren, wouldn’t go into the adult pool by herself, as she saw that there were 20+ men in the pool, which seemed odd. Stranger, they all all could’ve been in a line up with each being a carbon copy of the other. Each was 260-290 lbs. with big bellys, with beards and mustaches, short cropped hair or shaved heads, and most had sweaters of back hair. They looked like a cross between a casting call for Duck Dynasty and guys who’d attend an all-you-can-eat bratwurst fest. I had to find out who they were and why they were together. Turns out that there were 40 of them and they call themselves Top Shelf. Defying stereotypes, they were a group of gay men. Sure, on our Alaskan cruise I expected to see bears, but who would think there’d be so many bears on a Mediterranean cruise? Truly awesome! Represented in the photo is Celebrity Cruise’s Ursa Major-perfect specimens of the species. Glad I missed the plushie fetish cruise the prior week!

Flightplan meets Taken.

Today flying to Orlando, I got bumped to 1st class like into one of the sleeper seats. The flight attendant had me put my laptop on the shelf below the seat. When the plane tilted upward on its ascent, that’s when my flight turned into a Jodi Foster slash Liam Neeson movie, as my computer slide down the side of the plane and disappeared at take off. I knew that it couldn’t get past seat 5A, which was 2 rows behind me. I started asking people to let me look under their seats and a bitchy woman behind me wouldn’t get up saying that there was no way my computer could’ve passed her purse. Another flight attendant asked me if I was sure I brought my laptop. The flight attendant who had me stow my computer insisted that I must’ve put it away, once he came up empty in finding it. The passengers treated me like I was a lunatic, as I tore the Velcro from my seat cushion only to find foreign coins from world travelers. I almost gave up, as I began losing circulation in my arm, as I slide it through a crevice and pulled out my computer. The bitch with the oversized purse behind said I had her computer and I must have pulled it from her bag. As she argued me, the flight attendant made her open her pricey tote revealing that her laptop had been safely tucked away. Sure, I should’ve done my best Liam Neeson on her, but I hate my new laptop anyway. If she had my phone vs. my laptop, I would’ve shoved her in the toilet and flushed her blue Gooed body into space. I took comfort in the fact that my 1st class omelet yielded some excellent airplane gas enabling me to helicopter her (like crop dusting without walking away) for the remainder of the flight. By the time we landed, her tote smelled more like a colostomy bag from my retribution.

Essay on a Three Hour Tour.

I’m taking a moment away from thinking about current pressing issues to ponder some bigger thoughts in life. If on Gilligan’s Island they were out for a 3-hour tour, why were Ginger, Maryann, and the Professor alone if they were tourists? If Ginger was a star, how did she travel without an entourage? As a simple farm girl, what was Maryann doing in Hawaii by herself? If the show was from the 60s & the Skipper maintained his weight on a diet of coconut, why did it take 30 more years to declare war on trans-fats? Why would the Howells be on a crappy charter, if they were so wealthy? Why in the original theme song did they say “and the rest”, when only the Professor and Maryann constituted the rest? Most of all, why has no one staged a musical Hamlet on Broadway?

A Week without Power-Post Hurricane Sandy.

Tonight on Little House on the Prairie: We had some store-bought bread with our vittles. I have been reading my primer by candlelight and am hoping that Pa will play his fiddle tonight to pass the time. Pa done brought up water from the well and Ma heated it, so we could have a hot bath. I done my chores and fed the oxen, Quake. Pa sure has plenty of firewood to chop. It sure will keep us warm with winter coming. Tomorrow, we might even take the horse cart into town to see Doc Baker. I hear a Mr. Thomas Edison invented the incandescent light fueled by electricity and someday it will replace the candle for light. From where I sit today, I find that hard to believe.