Cruise Day 4

December 26th - Grenada Island
(written December 27th)

Grenada. I should have stayed in town...

Well, I didn't feel much like blogging yesterday. Want to know why? Here's some Lee Gardner trivia with which you can amuse and impress your friends. I flippin' hate canoes. I was a Boy Scout for most of my minor years. I completed a total of 4, yes count them, *4* merit badges (I'll explain that whole saga some other day...) Anyway, one of them was for canoing, so that on the off chance that I ever jumped out of a plane and landed in a canoe (because I would never get into one voluntarily) I could at least scramble back to shore. As far as I'm concerned, completing that merit badge was for survival purposes only. And like many other survival training exercises, it was awful and emotionally scarring. I remember in high school these fresh military recruit guys would come back from Boot Camp and talk about horrible stuff like mustard gas training and bunker drills. And I was all like, "Pfft, Back in 8th grade I had to portage a full size aluminum canoe BY MYSELF." Yeah, that shut them up pretty quick.

So when my sister suggested kayaking on Grenada, I was like, "Sure! I've never been in a kayak before!" In the guidebook, all the day-trips all have little code pictures to describe the outings and this one had the 'Light Activity-Family Oriented' symbol next to it. That should have been my first clue. But, you know, I've been, like, working out and stuff and had just conquered the Wall, so I was feeling pretty virile and stuff... It wasn't until later that I realized that 'kayak' is the Eskimo word for 'cheap plastic canoe.'

I've tried to blot most of it out of my memory, but here's the basics... We should have known that things were going to be rocky when an 18 passenger tour bus came to pick up the 24 of us. When we finally all got to the boat launch, Dad and I figured we'd get a two seater instead of both going solo. The plan is to row out to a beach on an adjacent island, hang out for an hour, then come back. No problem, we could see that the island wasn't that far away. So we hop in, and right away, my Father who has had a lifetime of back issues, finds that his seat cushion is misaligned. The problem is it's pretty much impossible to make any kind of effective adjustment to a seat behind your back, with a life preserver on, while you're sitting on it floating in the water. Mine was fine so I didn't even think about it until he couldn't hardly sit up at all. All I knew was that from the get go if my paddle wasn't in the water, we were going backwards. My psyche can handle it if I'm not making 'progress' but I get reeeally frustrated knowing that every second I'm 'resting' it's going to cost me X number of extra strokes just to get back where I started. Anyway, yes, the wind was against us right from the start. Then we turned a corner, and the wind was still against us. Then we turned another corner and the wind was STILL against us. And that's when I snapped and called for help. There was no way we were going to make it around the last corner (which reportedly had the strongest winds and current.) We weren't the only ones who got stranded, there were at least 8 of us who had to be towed back in. On the return trip, we came back exactly the way we went out so I could see that we did indeed cover lots of water, we just didn't make it to the beach. So we spent the better part of the afternoon on 'the wrong' beach waiting for the rest of the kayakers to come back. But really, is there ever a wrong beach to be stuck on in the Caribbean?

So after talking to our guides, it turns out this was a fairly new excursion and that you can get to the beach by either going clockwise or counter-clockwise around the island (makes sense.) But one way is too short for hardcore kayakers and the other way is too long for us recreational types. They also claimed to have taken the wind into account when determining which route to go, but that it shifted after everyone rounded the first corner. *I* think it wouldn't have mattered. Upwind is upwind regardless of which side of the island you're on. Anyway, we survived with some generally unused and now overworked and cranky muscles and mostly just a bruised ego.

When we met up with my mother later her response was, "Don't you know you should never get in a canoe with your Father?" We laughed, but not because it was that funny. It was that 'bonded through peril' kind of laugh.

The worst part about the kayaking trip is that it nearly overshadowed the beauty of Grenada. The weather was amazing that day and we decided that the breeze would have been perfect for doing pretty much anything but paddling.

As a total nonsequitor, to get to the boat launch, we took a tour bus through town. It's always interesting to see what's different and what's been totally Americanized on these islands, but I had to laugh when we passed 'The Office of the Leader of the Opposition' (that's exactly what the sign said) and then half a block up was the Peace Corp building.

Daily Distraction: Caption THIS!

You know how they say a picture is worth a thousand words? I'm pretty sure that they're the same ones who say that "He who can laugh at himself will never run out of material." Anyway, well, I have no words for this one so I need your help:

_____________

We've deemed this picture the 'goofiest candid photo' of the trip. And since we've been kicking it around over here, I figured I'd let everyone else put on the blindfold and take a whack at it too. So feel free to post your uber-cool, most high-larious, captions in the comment section and rofl away.

Cruise Day 3 pt2: Gomer hits The Wall

My Christmas Bell

I've been trying to 'expand my horizons' on this trip. You know, when I'm not sleeping in the sun somewhere... or sleeping in the shade somewhere... or sleepin- well you get the idea... I figured now is as good a time as any to try some different things. For instance, I don't usually eat much (read 'any') seafood, so I've ordered a couple of the seafoody dishes at dinner. My only goal that I had for this trip was to attempt the rock climbing wall on the back of the ship. Mostly because I know rock climbers are dead sexy beasts and I wanted to be one, if only for a few moments before I splattered on the ground.

Don't you wish your boyfriend was hot like... oh, never mind.

People give you really weird advice when you're contemplating climbing a wall. Or maybe it's that other wall climbers are weird and therefor give weird advice. My sister, the yoga instructor who has climbed before, recommended keeping my shoulders in. I'm still trying to figure out what she actually meant by that, but given my prior experience with aerobic instructors, it didn't surprise me that her advice wouldn't be in real English. And speaking of fitness nuts and other foreigners, there was this guy in front of me who claimed to have gone rock climbing before but was asking a load of dorky questions. I mean, stuff even I figured out, like, "Which rocks are the hardest?" Um, duh, they're *ALL* hard especially the ones waaay at the top... Anyway, the worst part was, he really did know what he was doing, he was just in the tourist ask-a-million-questions mode. As soon as he got strapped in, he was all business. He whipped out 2 small daggers and just stabbed his way to the top. So now I know how ninjas spend their holidays. Whoda thunk?

Aaaanyway, Who wants to follow that act? Me, I guess.

So today was the day. After standing in line and watching monkey babies scamper up the side of the wall for 45 minutes, it was my turn. I told my family that they didn't have to come, although it would be nice if someone got a picture. Needless to say they were all there ready to stare, point, throw things, applaud if/when appropriate, and of course take pictures of the whole ordeal.
Have you ever played one of those video games where you pick up some kind of invulnerability powerboost and you've got about 20 seconds to wreak havoc before reality sets back in? Well, as soon as I touched the first handhold, I figured I had about 45 seconds before my muscles would shake and give out or I'd realized what the heck I was doing and do something stupid like look down. I didn't actually time my ascent, but the pictures are all timestamped within 2 minutes, which means I hauled my keester up that rock like a squirrel on fire. The next thing I knew, I heard a voice from the other end of my safety line yell, "You have to LET GO OF THE WALL to come down." Easy for you to say... you're already at the bottom. Thank you Mr. Helpful.

This is me, NOT letting go of the wall.

But I did it. I climbed the wall and rang the bell. I'm no ninja, but I get by.

Cruise Day 3

December 25th, Christmas Day
No Port of Call

Today was an 'at sea' day. Apparently this cruise normally stops at Dominica (?) but since it's Christmas Day nothing would be open so we're just cruising on to Grenada. I'm fine with that. I'm getting pretty good at sitting next to the pool doing jack squat for long periods of time. Chris has been reading, I've been flipping through about 750 songs from the 80's on my iPod.

I saved you a seat!

As a total side note, Chris has been dropping things ever since the trip started. She keeps trying to tell me that her inner ear is just super-sensitive or something, but I think her brain went on vacation and now her limbs are going on strike. Lens cap, food, memory card, toothpaste, more food, razor, etc... pretty much EVERYTHING! So, I *thought* I was behaving myself and maybe not being 'supportive' per se, but at least not sighing heavily everytime I heard something clink on the bathroom floor. But I guess I wasn't as stealthy as I thought because after like the 700th clatter, I hear from the bathroom, "I'd appreciate it if you didn't roll your eyes at me. I'm not dropping things on purpose, you know." So tell me ladies, how did she know? She wasn't even looking at me. Could she sense it with her inner ear? Anyway, to date, I have only dropped one thing this whole trip. Unfortunately it was her toothbrush and it wedged into the utility end of the toilet brush. What? It's not like it hit the floor, shesh, you women are so sensitive. Fine, we'll call it even. Anyway, I fessed up immediately and we bought another toothbrush for, like, $57 + gratuity at the general store here on the boat. I think is called the "If you had to buy it here, we know what you're willing to pay for it" shop.

Cruise Day 2

December 24th - St. Maarten
(Written Dec. 25th)

Merry Christmas everybody! Wish you were here!

Well, Yesterday was 1/2 day at sea, 1/2 day in St. Maarten. Carrie and Dad decided to go on a snorkel trip while the rest of us just wandered around Philipsburg. And by 'wandering around' I mean 'walking past about 600 liquor and/or jewelry shops.' Unfortunately, as we are not booze and diamond types, this left us with a whole lot of meandering and not a lot of shopping. To prove what a wild bunch we are, here's a complete list of expenditures on St. Maarten for the 6 of us:

-2 Snorkel trips
-4 Froo-froo non-alcoholic drinks (Woo-Hoo!)
-1 Stick of deodorant
-1 Tube of foot cream
-$2 donated to the St. Maarten Animal Humane Society
-1 Scarf (an actual souvenir)

My brother-in-law doing his part to keep the Caribbean economy strong!

This was the first port we went to that was really built for tourism. We were the 5th cruiser at the dock, so it was kind of interesting to see how the immediate pandemonium disperses as you get further and further away from the boat. If you were a shop owner, the difference in traffic you would see just by being half a block closer or farther would be pretty severe. And frankly, how do you sell YOUR jewelry when there's 599 other jewelry stores in a 3 block radius?

Anyway, here's my deep thought of the day: This cruise reminds me of high school. It might be because it's about the size of my alma mater... But there's also the same kind of weird social circles. It seems like there are certain people that you run into constantly and others that just kind of appear once and then you never see them again. Or is it that you only take note of certain people and the rest of the faces just fill the gaps? I don't know, but I've 'just run into' family members several times accidentally at weird times in strange places. (Remember, this is like a 10 story hotel, it just shouldn't happen that often...) There's also another family with exactly the same schedule as us (same flight, hotel, and dining time) which is kind of awkward.

So last night was our first formal dinner which wasn't as goofy as I thought it was going to be. I expected to feel really out of place, but the staff treats you the same (i.e. really well) so it didn't feel forced. Where I'm going with this though is that there are several pictures of me attempting to look debonair or anti-debonair.

Not fooling anybody...

But the highlight was later in the evening when Chris said, "So, how's the ice cream, sugarpants?" and I heard, "So, how's the ice cream, (Not-Sugar-but-another-word-that-starts-with-SH...) yer pants?" I think I replied with something like, "Well, it's good, but it's not THAT good" and then had to explain what I heard. Needless to say we've been giggling about it ever since, because, you know, Chris asks me that kind of question all the time. The rest of the family is totally out of the loop on this one, as we've been incorporating 'Sugarpants' into conversation and then snickering quietly.

Cruise Day 1

December 23rd, 2007
Royal Caribbean Cruise - Santo Domingo

Since I don't know when I'll have the time and/or inclination to blog out here, I figured I should do it whenever I can.

So far, 2 for 2 on the happy endings. Chris and my folks survived the mean streets of Santo Domingo AND our lost luggage appeared tonight as if it had been waiting for us the whole time. We are currently at the end of 'Day one' according to the Cruise schedule and have left the Dominican Republic.

Right outside our hotel, the foodline I mentioned earlier was part of a political rally. Apparently 'The People's Candidate X' was giving out food as proof that he understood the state of poverty. And when I say 'food' I don't mean cans of Campbells and ramen noodles. I'm talking about live pigs and chickens. Chris said that on their way back to the hotel, the security guards were all pointing and taking pictures of these 3 turistas walking down the middle of the street between the working poor and their Christmas dinner. Chris asked one of them to email his pic to her, but she claimed dibs so you won't see it on this blog if it shows up.

In Santo Domingo, pigs are caught by YOU!

After we checked out of the hotel, but before we left, there was a family in the lobby that was just finishing up from their cruise. We chatted a bit, but as it turns out, it costs $10 to enter the Dominican Rep, and $20 per person to leave. I'm sensing a snappy Hotel California-esque slogan in their future.

Regarding luggage adventures, back when we were initially packing, I had mumbled something about how I didn't have any unique way to identify our luggage. My folks usually wrap their bags with colored duct tape so that you can spot them easily... you know, like at the baggage claim, or floating in the water. Chris's response was, "I've never seen another bag that's the same color as mine." Is it me, or is saying something like that just begging for trouble? Anyway, so once we found our rooms on the boat, we were standing in the hallway deciding what to do next, which btw is not an uncommon event for a bunch of Gardners, and I spot a luggage cart wheeling down another hallway. "Hey, there's Chris's bag" I noted, but since none of the other bags were here yet, my comment didn't raise any eyebrows. And besides, Who's going to believe that a partially color blind guy who has been in a stupor for the last 36 hours can spot an olive green bag in another hallway? Well, for the record, I'm a flippin baggage hero. I chased it down and found it parked in front of a room that was off by one digit from ours. I'd take full bragging rights, except if Chris hadn't mentioned it's unique color I wouldn't have thought twice about it. Suck it colorblind test, I'm handi-capable!

Ok, and here's my deep thought of the day: Other tourists are like other drivers. Have you ever noticed that YOU are the only one that 'drives right' on the interstate? If someone else is going faster than you, they're a lunatic, and if they're going slower, they must be idiots. (George Carlin made that observation so you know it's true) But in the same spirit, there are no 'normal' tourists. They're either ridiculously good looking and you can't figure out why they would subject themselves to looking at YOU on their vacation, or they're so goofy looking you can't believe they ever made it through customs. heh... "Yes sir, your papers are in order, but I have seen your passport, and for the sake of our children cannot allow you into our country." And to make things just that much weirder, they usually hang out together.

Ok, Ok, no more making fun of strangers...

Parting shot: Standard procedure on a cruise is to have a lifeboat drill as soon as everyone has boarded. For us, we had already been on the boat a couple hours but hadn't eaten since breakfast and the blood sugar levels were running a little thin. I'm pretty sure that was the case because I've never before heard my wife whisper, 'dead... dead... dead...' at anyone who was late for a safety drill. Also, I can *usually* resist the urge to punch her square in the life preserver.

I'm going to stick with the low blood sugar theory...

Tomorrow St. Martin!

Look ma, no luggage!

Ok, well, the problem with writing a blog while you are ON the plane is that the experience isn't technically over until you get checked into the hotel... with all your luggage.

Note the profound lack of baggage

Ok, ok, it wasn't that bad. The bad news is, one of our bags is MIA. The good news is that it was the 'equipment' bag filled of masks and fins and NOT underwear, socks and passports (travel necessities listed in order of importance.) The airport said that it might be coming on the next flight from Atlanta and that it would 'just be 10 minutes' but it turns out there was even less luggage (and more irate people) on that flight. Trying to get that bag cost us another 2 hours at the airport which meant we got to the Marriott about 6:30 local. (btw, it's pronounced 'Mario' down here, which is just different enough to make you question if the cabbie really knows where to take you) So yeah, that made for a long day of travel. Especially since I didn't get any sleep the night before. Did I mention I had a great time at karaoke? jk...

Anyway, I've come to the conclusion that being dead tired while flying isn't such a bad thing. Unless of course you're the pilot, but I won't go there. Anyway, airports are more bearable. You aren't as aware/concerned about how much everything flipping costs. Time is no longer linear. The lists of perks goes on and on... Now admittedly, someone had to be in charge otherwise I'd still be sitting at the airport trying to convert dollars to euros (another long story, but the punch line is that they don't use Euros here anyway...) But I was not labled 'El Hefe' (The Chief) and therefore free to pass in and out of consciousness at my leisure. It's a good thing too because I was going to do it anyway.

Getting close to the white rabbit. I has his carrot.

Who needs fashionable iPod accessories? When I've got an audio splitter and a twist tie, I'm always stylin'

So anyway, rumor has it that internet access is $8 a minute on the boat so this is most likely the last time I'll be posting until after the cruise. Sorry but you'll have to wait for the new year to get burnt whiteboy pic's. But really, I'm sure these lovely airport shots are going to be the highlight. Chris is out getting actual pictures of Santo Domingo now. For those of you not adventuring this holiday, S.D. is the poorest nation we're visiting and I just found out Chris and my folks have to cross an (armed) food line to get to the cultural center. Hope she comes back with some great pictures!

Or, you know... just comes back...

What do these # have in common: 37, 42, 81...

Those would be the temperatures today in Chicago, Atlanta, and Santo Domingo respectively.
So yeah, we're off, and as I'm typing this, we're in the air to Santo (or as I like to call it, 'santa') Domingo. It is nearly Christmas after all.

This is my dead sexy plane face. I call it "The Delta"

Anyway, we survived the usual airport rigors. Nothing terribly out of the ordinary and were able to make our connecting flight. Our flight out of Midway was at 6am. Which meant meeting up with my sister and folks at 3:30am, which meant leaving the house at 2:30am. Which meant I was left with the decision to either sleep for a couple hours and get up at 1:30, or stay up and play with my other late night Friday friends. Chris went to bed at 7 and actually got about 6 hours of sleep.

So anyway, last night at Karaoke...

Matt and I decided that last night was our best bet for getting a decent group of folks together (not to be confused with a group of decent folks...) for a night of singin' and general frivolity. And I gotta tell you, in that, we succeeded. I believe saying that the evening was 'off the hook' is an understatement. 'Off the hook' doesn't require therapy afterwards.

In recent weeks I've been acused of being... oh what's the word they used... "Addicted" to karaoke. This is total garbage, and I assure you I can quit any time I want. Besides, the first sign of having a serious problem is that your friends notice a change in your behavior. And I swear to you that whatever you've heard about me hasn't come from any of my REAL friends. Pack of lies. Anyway, I'm always glad when I can share the joys of my... um... dependency with others.

But I don't have a problem. I can talk about other things. I mean, I could tell you about how I'm typing this with my arms pinned to my sides and the screen folded nearly in half because I'm squished into the T-Rex position on this plane. I'm getting the full flavor of this flight... 3 hours and somehow the guy in front of me has managed to lower his chair completely into my lap. My laptop sitting on his sleeping face as I type.

So anyway, this one time at karaoke...
What I love about this karaoke bar is that noone sings half-assed. Sure, there are those that use their whole ass, but in those cases you celebrate the effort, or the amusement factor, or maybe the opportunity for improvement... whatever, as long as everyone's having fun.

Oh, wait, I was talking about the flight wasn't I? So Chris and my sister are sitting next to me planning the week out. Calculating what we can do, where we can go, how we're going to get there, what time, etc, etc, etc... Don't get me wrong, I'm glad they're getting a grip on the trip. I mean somebody's got to do it, otherwise we'd just sit on the boat and like, I don't know, hang out on a big flippin boat.

So anyway, back at Karaoke, I heard the raunchiest version of "Summer Loving" I've ever heard. And an impressive rendition of Manilow's "I write the songs." But my personal highlight was when I started singing a song by Bush and 3 folks came up and airguitar'd, airbass'd and airdrum'd behind me. I had a full air-band rocking out behind me, but the whole experience was nearly eclipsed out of my memory when Matt came running up and lifted his shirt. It's not like I threw beads at him or anything, he just did it. (Remember the part about needing therapy?) Yeah, well I'm scarred.

As it turns out, there are some unwritten rules to karaoke. I didn't really realize this until they were broken, of course... But for instance, it's never appropriate to flash the singer if you're a guy. Teh funny is not directly proportional to the damage. The other rule we figured out was that if you are actually IN a band, karaoke'ing to a song your band covers is cheating. It just is. Part of karaoke is singing stuff you don't normally perform. Listen, I don't make the rules, I just point them out when they're violated.

Don't you judge me. I don't have a problem.

Home Owner Aptitude, I has it.

Chris and I haven't paid rent for almost 10 years now. Along the way I've learned a few things about home repair, and was reminded of these simple principles as I installed a light fixture this weekend.
1) The right equipment is the difference between a 10 minute fix and a 3 day job. For this particular repair I needed a screwdriver, wire strippers/cutters, electrical tape, 10 foot ladder, electric drill, 2 machine screws, extra electrical wire, mounting plate, Janis, and wire caps. All of which would need to be used simultaneously at the top of the ladder. Piece of cake. "2 Ball cap nuts" are also in the equipment list but I doubt they're really needed. I think somebody just threw them in to make grown men giggle.
2) Safety first. I can't stress this enough, especially when you're doing electrical work in the dark on a ladder on a staircase. At least wait until you've got some daylight.
3) Follow the instructions, but be ready to improvise. No matter how thorough the directions are, there's no way some dude in China could account for (and describe in English) every situation you might run into. For instance, I don't have a 10 foot ladder, but I do have one of those sectional ladders that's 12 feet. Fully extended, the ladder wouldn't fit, so I folded one of the sections to make a nine foot ladder. Then it was still a little low, so I put it on a stair instead of the landing. Then it was a little too far from the wall so I extended the one folded section out until it touched. Remember kids, Safety first! Other than that, you can see from the following picture that I was able to follow the rest of the instructions to the letter.

Couple things to note about the picture on the left. You'll notice that I did not use Duct Tape to harness the lamp to the ceiling. This is an electrical project, therefore I used electrical tape. Also, Yes, the fixture is temporarily lashed to the ladder using spare wire. Yes, the ladder is aluminum. Boy Scouts and Navy Seals have been using this technique for centuries, take it up with them. Lastly, I did not photoshop this picture. The heavenly glow is confirmation that God approves.

15 hours, 3 blown fuses, and 9 lightbulbs later you'll get something that looks like this on the right:

Ta-da! It's just that easy.

Yet another relaxing Saturday

So I had one thing on my list today, to install a light fixture over the back staircase. Here's a photo of my current progress:

Watch your step.

You know, I kind of enjoy doing electrical stuff around the house. It kind of validates my existence in the household when I can actually get a light switch to work. But the thing is that it takes me about 6 hours to do even basic wiring. Double that if I'm on a ladder. So in these days where I have precisely 38 minutes of daylight to work with, well, keep a flashlight handy or you'll end up in the basement a little faster than you were planning.