again...

I’ve had this blog up for over a year yet have only posted a handful of entries, even fewer of those containing anything of legitimate note. This leads me to the conclusion that living/working as a musician on a cruise ship can be a very passive experience.
I’ll sidestep for a moment and acknowledge that over the past nine months I’ve come to a good number of conclusions, experienced a few substantial epiphanies, and seen a good number of events go down to claim that this crazy ship thing was, overall, a “good learning experience.” (I regret my computer’s lack of, or my inability to, type up the little “trademark” tm sign in the upper right corner of that last sentence. I digress.) I’m sure that anyone/everyone who has worked on a cruise ship for a valid amount of time will roll their eyes out of boredom at this paragraph since it seems like the typical philosophical fluff coming from some ship newbie (turns out one year isn’t that long of an employment). Then again, not everyone out there in the living/breathing/walking/talking everyday world has worked on a cruise ship. So “VAH” I say to the naysayers. Again, digress.
So, yeah. Passive. Musicians, compared to most other employees on a cruise ship, don’t work very much. There. I said it. As a maximum I can say I’ve had five hours of legitimate musical labor pass through my hours on a given day. Five hours. I’ve worked other jobs (for less pay) where five hours would be considered a short day. I can’t say the free time is unappreciated, and it could be well argued that five hours of ballroom music is four and a half hellish hours too much. However, for the sake of argument, I’ll go with the conclusion that five hours is a pretty cherry gig for an inquisitive young chap.
True, crew members are allowed to explore port destinations, given free time and barring any limiting circumstances. Some have even said that we “live in a vacation land.” An experience it may be, consider that looming in the back of our heads is the fact that we have an all aboard time sometime a few hours on, where after we’ll resume washing plates, selling watches, mixing drinks, dealing poker games, playing “Strangers in the Night” or whatever various activity our contract obligates us to do. Again, I’m digressing, as well as speaking broadly. This is supposed to be about me, damn it!
Again, a passive life for musicians. Passive could very well be taken as “relaxing,” which isn’t a bad association to make. Learn your tunes, show up on time looking professional and well groomed (or at least a close approximate), smile when necessary, stay in tune, let common sense dictate the musical mood of the evening. Keep things in line, and the rest of the day’s 19 hours are all yours. Hell, you could sleep all day if you really want to, which some of my people do. Be the envy of all your colleagues, friends and family. Slumber all you want except to log in your hours and drink yourself silly, the price of which you’ll never pay less for on land.
Perhaps I’m a bit bold in saying this, perhaps still a bit too green to know any better, but this “passive” I see is less “relaxing” and more “boring.” Maybe this is just my mindset as I set into seven sea days ahead of me as the Noordam crosses the Atlantic. This could very well be a lasting quirk of my ability to “change personality like the wind” (something I’ve recently been told), but I think I miss the minor challenges of the everyday: traffic, waiting for the coffee machine to work, making and meeting doctor’s appointments, cooking, etc. I think it’s that very same passive/relaxing nature that’s stressing me out a bit. I want more of a challenge than carrying my guitar and song books up three flights of stairs. My cabin steward, a find man indeed, but not at all necessary at the end of the day: I can make my bed and clean up after myself quite well, thank you. The never-never land vibe one can get from doing this job isn’t quite as fulfilling anymore, honestly. ‘Twas good for what it was (the paycheck, too), but I’m looking forward to that first morning back home when I wake up, long before the a.m. digits multiply to two spaces, and make my own breakfast.
I’m even cool with the snow.
For now.

Listening to: Sergio Mendes.
Watching: City of God.
Reading: Revolutionary Road-Richard Yates
Brilliant moment: Scrubs, season eight. Ted singing “Hey Ya” in the Bahamas.

Priceless.