Good morning, Ketchikan!
You make me want to say "catch as catch can" because it's six fifteen AM, and I am delirious already, but we've got two early morning excursions and I figured blogging trumped sleep.
This will..or SHOULD..be a short entry, making me optimistic that'll garner as much love as Jim's shot of a cornflakes box did. I was so jealous of that damn cereal. My ego took a hit just a few weeks back when Jim posted a photo of his flounder sandwich that got more likes and comments than a month's worth of blogging.
Yesterday was a day at sea, a magnificent one, as we sailed through the most beautiful scenery I've ever seen in my life, a place called Glacier Bay that you could enjoy from your balcony, the usually off-limits-to-guests bow, or the observation deck.
I felt like a silkworm, inching my way through a dowager's jewelry box, looking at all the things with a dazzling shine and glow.
I had no idea that people claimed seats as early as 4:00 AM for those coveted observation desk viewings, so when I saw an empty one around ten o'clock, I took it, and never felt like more like a Karen.
"Look at her!" someone said.."hogging up the best chair while..it looks like..is she actually doing a WORDLE?"
"I've seen that one before with her notebook and her tie-dyed bag"
I was ironically wearing a t-shirt that read "Karen..Calm Down" and I secretly hoped that seat owner had that name as well, because she forced me to leave, saying "I had that seat since four o'clock in the morning..you must GO!"
So I did..even 'though she left nothing..not an old flip flop or an empty tube of sunscreen to claim chair ownership, something I usually do in the tropics.
Did your Mom ever fill a 7Up bottle with water to sprinkle on your school clothes as she ironed them?
I know how random that sounds, bear with me.
I'm picturing that luminous 7Up bottle now, and I want you to do likewise, Picture thousands of them, melted down to create a flat, glassy surface, and that's what the waters of Glacier Bay looked like to me.
The snow capped mountains were gorgeous too, but I could not stop staring at that water, water I'd never swim in or float in or frolic in or do anything in, but I was transfixed.
Now I finally understand why some beachgoers claim a spot at the crack of dawn without having any intention of actually going into the waves.
I just could not stop staring..Jim could not stop taking photos..and the woman who demanded I get up from "her" seat couldn't stop bitching.
We played a game called "progressive Pictionary" in the atrium, the ONLY way to play Pictionary or any of it's "Win, Lose, Draw" variations.
Every artist begins with the same word at the same time, and the first to make their team guess all the answers on the card wins a mousetrap.
Jim and I were a team of two, and we lost badly, because..well..you wouldn't have guessed that what he drew was supposed to be a "phone charger either."
A captain on an opposing team, an eight year old, says to me, (after we introduced ourselves via a mic) "My grandmother lives in New Jersey too!" and when I saw him for the next round, I asked him: "Did your grandmother ever draw the word "doctor" so badly that her teammate thought she was trying to draw the word(s) "cleft palate?"
Jim could not guess "!-pad" because I sketched an angry wife with thick thumbs, trying to type on a sadistic keyboard, and I couldn't get him to guess "Piccachu" (it was a game designed for kids) even after sketching a peak, a hat, and a sneezer saying "achoo!"
We were equally awful but we had some laughs and enjoyed some Motown sounds before dining at a Japanese steak house.
It was nice to dine with strangers..the lovely wives from upstate NY who drove buses and liked swapping stories about our favorite vacation spot in the 90's, Ogunquit, Maine.
We did not talk to the others at our table who sat down and told us "We're from California..the RED part of California, and who wants to do sake bombs with us?"
I do not like their politics or their chit chat and I do not laugh at sake bomb jokes.
I laugh at Jim Gaffigan, who makes fun or his laziness and makes self-deprecating fat jokes as he obsesses about food.
And speaking of food..the meal was wonderful. I've been to hibachi restaurants before, where chefs put on a show, but none compares to this chef, who sang Beatle songs and make a snake out of a fried egg that slithered across his hot grill. A snake he called Anna, for anaconda.
The night ended on a high note with a wonderful production of a show called "Choir of Men"
No tech difficulties..no duct tape, just pure entertainment.
These talented men sang and danced their way into our hearts, singing familar tunes with an Irish pub setting, with old time piano and banjos and chubby dancers who looks like they could move a mountain if need be.
Whew!
Got everything said that needed to be said before our trip to see a lumberjack show and to photograph some amazing totem poles.
I lied.
This was not a short blog after all.
A corn flake box on a balcony is more interesting, I get it.
No need to tell me twice
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