The life of a jazz trio on a cruise ship is a surreal existence. Drums, bass, guitar set up next to circular watering hole called the 21st Century Bar despite the Roman pillars and pictures of chariot races. Next to the casino, and underneath the marquee broadcasting the night's events in bright red letters. In between two photo stations where guests can stand in front of a Christmas living room backdrop or one of the beach with the ship on the background. It's as if they Photo Shop'd us into a picture you'd find on the brochure. The wafting sounds of Wayne Shorter, John Coltrane, and Bill Evans sailing over the sounds of slot machines, thrilled and agonized gamblers, and the drunken chatter of guests passing by.
On this particular night Preston (our guitarist and bandleader), Chaz (our drummer), and I got in the proverbial foxhole together to fire off eigth notes at the endless parade of guests passing by. After the first tune was over, Preston mumbled under his breath,
"I'll Remember April. 1, 2, 1, 2, 3, 4"
"Pling..............................Pling..............................................Pling, pling........................" went the guitar at 10-20 second intervals while Preston slumped his shoulders and stared at the floor. The entire tune was a vague, sparse, minimalist, affair that would have made Steve Reich and Phillip Glass uneasy. The end of the tune was a vague mystery of random plinging that eventually stopped altogether while the bass and drums faded out. When the tune was over Preston stared at the floor for about a half a minute before mumbling,
"What Is This Thing (Called Love). 1, 2, 1, 2, 3, 4."
"Pling, pling.............................................................................Pling, pling......................................Pling, pling............................................................................................................................Pling." went the guitar, even sparser than before.
He took the minimalist approach to the calling of tunes as well. Sometimes as much as a minute of silence went by before a tune was called.At one point, he looked up from the floor to Chaz and said,
"What do you want to play?"
"I don't care. Just call something," Chaz replied.
(15 seconds of silence)
"What do you want to play?" he asked me.
"I don't know. Whatever." I replied.
(30 seconds of silence)
It was as if the guitar was giving the bass and drums the silent treatment and this set was the agonizingly, uncomfortable attempt at chit chat over dinner. Every tune for the next 2 hours went down in this manner. Intros, melodies, outros, were a sparse mystery. Occasionally, Preston started a tune and stopped playing for an entire chorus or stopped playing altogether 4 bars before the tune ended.
Playing in a jazz trio on a cruise ship is a surreal existence.
Friday, November 30, 2007
Surrealism: Part 2
So after another less than satisfying day at work, I went to the office (crew bar to all you laypeople) to unwind. Although there was a Latin themed "Salsa Fiesta" for the crew on the other side of the ship, I figured tonight would be a good night to get to bed early and catch up on some much needed rest.
After a few beers and a few games of Tekken Tag Tournament, (the 1 working arcade at the bar) I went back to my room.
My room. Fortress of solitude. Where the bunk beds are artfully decorated with purple, orange, and turquoise privacy curtains. Where fluorescent light reflects God's glory off of the large tiled linoleum floors. Where the 8 inch TV brings you 3, count 'em 3 movie channels full of uninterrupted cinematic classics such as Code Name: The Cleaner, Wild Hogs, Georgia Rules, The Last Mimzie, No Reservations, and the Santa Clause 3. This is where I wanted the Gulf of Mexico to rock me to sleep.
I opened the door only to have it abruptly stopped. A shirtless Emil (my roomate) blocked the entrance and immediately began apologizing in a frantic manner,
"Jimmy I'm sorry. I should have asked permission. It's my friend's birthday. I'm so sorry. We're hanging out. I should have asked permission....."
I took a step into the room and there were Filipinos as far as the eye could see. 3 on the bed, 2 on the floor, 2 brought there own mini stools. A small table was set up in the middle of the room full of party favors. Ribs, chicken, noodles, wine, whiskey, sodas, and some Filipino delicacies that I didn't recognize. All of a sudden from 6 inches away from my right ear,
"IT'S NOW OR NEVER. COME HOLD ME TIGHT. KISS ME MY DARLING....."
being sung in a rich tenor voice. There was some cat in the bathroom singing his heart out into a microphone attached to a karaoke machine. My intrusion didn't stop his performance. After Emil told me whose birthday it was, I wished him a happy birthday and everybody began started up at once.
"I'm so sorry. I should have asked." Emil said as he put on a T-shirt. ("Why didn't he have a shirt on?" I wondered.)
"Jimmy you want food?" from one side of the room
"Sit down. I move. Sit on the bed," from the bed
"Have some food. I make you plate. You like ribs?" from the other
"Beef, you like beef?" from somwhere.
"You like noodles? I make you plate of noodles."from the floor
"WHEN I FIRST SAW YOU. WITH YOUR SMILE SO TENDER........." from 6 inches away.
"You like Jack Daniels right? Here drink this." from the floor
"Sit down. You can sit on my chair," from somewhere.
"Toast for his birthday!" from the bed
"I'D SPEND A LIFETIME WAITING FOR THE RIGHT TIME......." in my right ear
"Happy Birthday," I said.
Sensory overload. I've partied with Emil's friends before and had a great time but this was too trippy and way too crowded for me to relax. After firing off a bunch of what I hoped were polite "no thank you's" to the numerous offers I had received, I took a shot of Jack and Coke and told everyone that I was just dropping off my bag was going to the Salsa Fiesta. After carefully stepping past everyone and everything, I tossed my bag on the top bunk and left. Dude in the bathroom was still crooning away, his non-mic-wielding hand emotionally clutching his chest while he rocked back and forth with each line.
Life on a cruise ship is a surreal existence.
After a few beers and a few games of Tekken Tag Tournament, (the 1 working arcade at the bar) I went back to my room.
My room. Fortress of solitude. Where the bunk beds are artfully decorated with purple, orange, and turquoise privacy curtains. Where fluorescent light reflects God's glory off of the large tiled linoleum floors. Where the 8 inch TV brings you 3, count 'em 3 movie channels full of uninterrupted cinematic classics such as Code Name: The Cleaner, Wild Hogs, Georgia Rules, The Last Mimzie, No Reservations, and the Santa Clause 3. This is where I wanted the Gulf of Mexico to rock me to sleep.
I opened the door only to have it abruptly stopped. A shirtless Emil (my roomate) blocked the entrance and immediately began apologizing in a frantic manner,
"Jimmy I'm sorry. I should have asked permission. It's my friend's birthday. I'm so sorry. We're hanging out. I should have asked permission....."
I took a step into the room and there were Filipinos as far as the eye could see. 3 on the bed, 2 on the floor, 2 brought there own mini stools. A small table was set up in the middle of the room full of party favors. Ribs, chicken, noodles, wine, whiskey, sodas, and some Filipino delicacies that I didn't recognize. All of a sudden from 6 inches away from my right ear,
"IT'S NOW OR NEVER. COME HOLD ME TIGHT. KISS ME MY DARLING....."
being sung in a rich tenor voice. There was some cat in the bathroom singing his heart out into a microphone attached to a karaoke machine. My intrusion didn't stop his performance. After Emil told me whose birthday it was, I wished him a happy birthday and everybody began started up at once.
"I'm so sorry. I should have asked." Emil said as he put on a T-shirt. ("Why didn't he have a shirt on?" I wondered.)
"Jimmy you want food?" from one side of the room
"Sit down. I move. Sit on the bed," from the bed
"Have some food. I make you plate. You like ribs?" from the other
"Beef, you like beef?" from somwhere.
"You like noodles? I make you plate of noodles."from the floor
"WHEN I FIRST SAW YOU. WITH YOUR SMILE SO TENDER........." from 6 inches away.
"You like Jack Daniels right? Here drink this." from the floor
"Sit down. You can sit on my chair," from somewhere.
"Toast for his birthday!" from the bed
"I'D SPEND A LIFETIME WAITING FOR THE RIGHT TIME......." in my right ear
"Happy Birthday," I said.
Sensory overload. I've partied with Emil's friends before and had a great time but this was too trippy and way too crowded for me to relax. After firing off a bunch of what I hoped were polite "no thank you's" to the numerous offers I had received, I took a shot of Jack and Coke and told everyone that I was just dropping off my bag was going to the Salsa Fiesta. After carefully stepping past everyone and everything, I tossed my bag on the top bunk and left. Dude in the bathroom was still crooning away, his non-mic-wielding hand emotionally clutching his chest while he rocked back and forth with each line.
Life on a cruise ship is a surreal existence.
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