This ain’t Hollywood

​Why do all the old men at the continental breakfast at four star hotels insist on showing me their burnt toast??

  I mean, as in flipping it over to expose both sides??

I admit that I’m never sure how to work any kind of toaster that isn’t the pop up variety from the nineteen  fifties either. 

You put the bread on the rack and you are certain you’ll never see it again .

You’re also certain that machine wants to eat you, but even when that doesn’t happen, is it necessary to grab the nearest pair of germ ridden tongs and say to a complete stranger, in a non euphemistic way, “ would ja get a load of this toast?”

The after toast breakfast mints were fine, except they were wrapped in titanium.

Jim unwrapped his first, popped it in his mouth, and asked me why the continental breakfast providers are feeding their guests little white balls of soap… which is what the mints tasted like.

Okay.. who wants to keep reading about burnt toast when I instead could describe the trip thus far??

Jim booked this in July, because he hates boring beach vacations, and I hate boring  educational excursions, yet here we are.

I had forgotten the theme this week is The Civil War, an oxymoron right up there with Smart Kardashians.

Frankly my dear,  I could care less about the civil war.. except when confronted by MAGA.

If I could have chosen the theme of the cruise, I’d have picked things that matter to me, like “Gilmore Girls” or poodles.

(Google “ oy with the poodles”..I’ll wait)

Before embarkation, we visited a place called Fort Clinch, and the bus ride was almost totally silent until a guy blurts out that everyone needed to smell his armpit. 

We started in a one room that featured cannonballs that looked like bowling balls, and then it was all plaques and artifacts and ennui.

“They are doing a civil war reenactment outside,” and a guy named Doc who looked like Gerald McRaney stared at me blankly when asked where the reenactment was and what time it started.

“ this ain’t Hollywood,” he answered. “this IS the reenactment “ and then talked Union vs. Confederacy with Jim while I forced my brain to believe we were at a Club Med. 

We hear a loud boom which either came from a working cannon or the “ smell my armpits” guy, 

but Jim did manage to snag a great T-shirt that read,”Calm Down, it’s only a gator.”

By just after noon,we were on this modern, immaculate ship and sat down for  lunch in a beautiful dining room that might as well have been called the Shady Oaks Retirement Home.

( why.. in every state in the Union/Confederacy does every old age  home have the name “Oaks” in it?

Gentle Oaks, Shady Oaks, Red Oaks, White Oaks, Red,White and Blue Oaks.. Sketchy Oaks for Kvetchy Folks… oak—kay, you get the idea.)

We dined with a truck driver and a woman who’s a  fisherman from Nebraska.  

Jim is forcing me to be sociable and  to small talk,so I let these heartlanders talk away, ( they were actually very sweet) as they claimed to be siblings but I  could have sworn they were a married couple, like it actually matters in Nebraska.

I’m awful,aren’t??

The conversation started to get interesting when Joe, the female,talked about her kid in Minneapolis,but Jim forbids me to say anything controversial so we talked about walleyes.

Ok.. time to see how many people can stay up for  the lounge entertainment, a musical tribute to the seventies.

The seventies.. most passengers haven’t seen that decade in a century..

More later