The Big Red Boat OF DOOM!

All the chatter about Carnival Cruise Line’s doomed cruises lately has reminded me of my family’s cruise history. I give you the story of doomed cruises, Herbert style…

big red boat

When I was young and my parents were still in the jewelry business, we bought from a company that gave cruises if you bought a certain amount of product from them over the course of a year.

We cruised the seas on the Premier Cruise Line (aka The Big Red Boat, aka Disney Cruise Line before DCL existed) and it was great fun.

A few years in, after cruising every year to Nassau, they switched it up and we went to The Abacos.

The trip was uneventful until the morning we were supposed to go through a small channel to enter The Abacos or some other nonsense. The weather was bad and we couldn’t get through.

Apparently this had never happened before. OF COURSE IT HADN’T.

We turned around or something and went over to Nassau. Again. (I know, rough life?)

Premier gave everyone 50% off cruises and we took them up on it.

The next year, we hopped the same boat with the same itinerary.

Guess what?

Yup. It had only happened once before and again, we found ourselves on the cruise that couldn’t thread through the teeny tiny channel.

Back to Nassau. More braids and haggling with people over $1.50 trinkets made of paper (or imported from Vietnam).

Oh well. 50% off another cruise for 4 people. We’ll take it.

Third cruise booked. This time with my Aunt, Uncle, and two cousins. It was great fun!

UNTIL WE COULDN’T GET THROUGH AGAIN!

According to the cruise line, this had only happened TWO other times in the history of navigating the miniscule channel that had been dug by hand by Oompaloompas apparently. And guess what? We were on all of them.

Free cruises for all! WHEEEEEE!!

We booked another cruise. Same ship. Same place. Because, well, obviously we’re insane.

When we boarded the ship, the Captain greeted us. We were “the family” that was doomed. I’m sure he wanted to kick us off so they would make it through the pin-head size lane to The Abacos.

But instead, he greeted us with open arms, a fruit and champagne basket in our room, and an invitation to breakfast in the steering room of the ship to watch him thread through the channel.

Even on vacation, we bounced out of bed at some ungodly hour and went down to the ship’s steering room. If it had been me NOW, I would have had my sister hold me while I hung off the front of the ship ala The Titanic, but alas, we just sat there and minded our manners while a (probably drunk) Captain steered us SUCCESSFULLY through the channel.

We were thrilled to finally see The Abacos. It was as gorgeous as reported in all the travel brochures.

The only part of that cruise that truly sucked, was the fact that it was the end of the line for free and discounted cruising for us.

Kickin’ It With The Rockettes

I can officially say I’ve danced with The Rockettes at Radio City Music Hall.

Ok, maybe that’s a stretch, but it’s technically true.

A few weeks ago, BlogHer opened up sign-ups for The Rockettes Experience, sponsored by Centrum and Caltrate. I was so lucky I was able to get one of the spots because there were very few it seems (maybe 100?). It was for an hour-long session at Radio City with ACTUAL, REAL LIFE, LONG-LEGGED ROCKETTES!

I’ve already told you this was a dream come true for me.

It met all of my expectations and more.

Bright and early, at 7am on Friday, we all headed across to Radio City Music Hall and stood in line outside the stage door. I hooked up with my friend Kate from The Guavalicious Life. I was so excited to have a partner in crime to hang with (and knew she would take me to the ER if I broke my body).

Of course, we got goofy with the sign inside at the desk when we checked in.

radio city jana blogher 1

I can’t tell you how exciting it was to simply walk down the hallowed halls of the back areas of Radio City. This is where all the magic happens. The classes, the training, the choreography for the amazing performances… it all happens right there where we stood.

These mannequins were obviously (I assume) showcasing costumes from years past. Of course, I had to touch them.

Here I should tell you that Kate and I were giggly and giddy the whole time. Maybe it was the time of day, though.

They put us all in a room and then split us up into two groups. Kate and I were in the pink group. From there we headed to the studio rooms for our Experience.

Dumb me didn’t get our beautiful Rockettes’ names. I was too busy noticing their legs that were as long as my whole body, their toned bodies and the way they held themselves as if to say, “I’m a Rockette.”

Both of them were very humble about their position in the group. They were 6 and 8 year veterans, having to try out every year. They don’t take it for granted, and even admitted they get weepy at different points of their performances.

They taught us how to march like they do in the Parade of The Wooden Soldiers. I can imagine them with their pink cheeks and heavily starched pants. That’s one of my all time favorite routines of any group I’ve seen perform. In high school, I choreographed a routine for our dance team that had sections of this routine in it.

The Rockettes have been performing this routine since 1933 in their Christmas Spectacular. The girls shared an interesting tidbit with us. During Q&A time, I asked how do they change so fast between songs. They said they have a whole process back stage that is nearly as elaborate as what we see on stage. Some costume changes are as little as 80 seconds. At the end of the Wooden Soldiers, when they slide down on each other, as they get up, they unzip the person in front of them so their costume change is faster. SO COOL!

Later, we did high kicks. Sadly, I can’t kick very high anymore. In my mind, I can still “kick my hat” like the Rangerettes and way back when, kicking at eye level was no big deal.

It was exhilarating just being in the same room, in the same building where some of the most amazing dancing and performing has gone on, dancing… even if I’m about 30 pounds overweight and so not limber anymore.

For an hour, I felt like if I HAD been an inch and a half taller in my younger years, I truly could have been a Rockette. I could have tried out and maybe made the group. I could do everything they do and I did it well. They didn’t call me Miss Dance America for nothin’, y’all!

The giddiness Kate and I felt, will last a lifetime. It was truly an experience I’ll never forget.

Thank you to Centrum and Caltrate for sponsoring this Rockettes Experience and to BlogHer for affording us this opportunity.

ps: I didn’t cry until I got in the shower.

pps: I totally should have shown up in a Wooden Soldiers costume.

ppps: I didn’t break any bones or rip any muscles.

My BlogHer12 Goals

If two weeks leading up to BlogHer reminds me of Bid Day 94 at Auburn, up to and including the shrill squeals and OHMAHGAHs and jumping up and down, then I’m going to be honest — Mama’s gonna need cocktail hour to start around noon!

There’s an absolute blizzard flurry of excitement about BlogHer 2012. It starts on August 3 in New York and (woohoo) I’m going!

VOTY Honoree  I wasn’t going until one hot summer night in St. Simons when I checked my email to find out that my post was chosen as a Voice of the Year Honoree. And then Jason pretty much forced me to get a ticket and go. No, I don’t get to read or anything at the VOTY Keynote, but my name is on that list. And by God, that’s all I needed to validate the fact that I CAN write and that I should definitely go.

So I’m going. I’m flying before the sun comes up on Wednesday August 1st and will have all day Wednesday and Thursday to do whatever I want before the conference even starts! Then on Sunday, I’ll have most of the day to goof off.

I have a list in my head a 5k long of people I want to meet. Maybe I’ll meet them all, maybe not.

I’m not losing sleep over what to wear. Yes, I’ll grab a few new things, but that’s simply because my closet is, well, an embarrassment to the female species. It’s so bad, my girl card is one hole punch from being revoked.

I’m excited about swag. I’m sure there’ll be some great stuff. But I plan to be kinda picky about what I actually take and bring home with me. They should all just give out gift cards. That would rock, now, wouldn’t it?

There are a few goals that I have for the long weekend. I know you’re dying to know what they are, right?

  • Go for a jog in Central Park.
  • Have a Frrrrozen Hot Chocolate at Serendipity 3.
  • Hit a good number of sessions.
  • Go to all the official parties, at least for a little while. BlogHer has worked extremely hard and the sponsors are so generous with their time and investment. It would be insulting not to go. Also, I don’t want to traipse all over town just to go to another party. Anyway…
  • Rest when I feel like it and not allow myself to be overwhelmed.
  • Buy this ring at Tiffany.

Simple enough?

 

Are you going?

 

Camp Packing 101

My almost 8 year old is off to camp. This is his first time, but I’m not new to this whole camp-packing-thing. I started going to camp at 8 and went until I was 15 or 16. Some years I went for a week, some years I went for two.

My memories of camp are all very special. But the part I always loved most? PACKING!

The two week camp allowed us to bring trunks and oh, how I wish that Henry’s camp had allowed that. But once I saw the size of the cabins, I realized this was NOT a possibility.

Needless to say, when I got the packing list for camp I was in a bit of packing heaven! So I thought, of course I should share my packing tips with all of you.

This is packing for a 7 year old boy for 1 week of sleep-away camp.

Step 1: Find a bag that’s right for camp.

This means one that you will not cry when it gets ruined, isn’t extremely heavy when you try to carry it (possibly up a hill in 105° weather) and is durable.

Jason and Henry went to the Army surplus store to get bags. They came back with a “small duffel” according to the Army and a dopp kit type bag.

Rolling duffels are great and so are regular suitcases. They will most likely have to go under the bunk bed so think about the size.

bags for camp

Step 2: Organize your clothing.

This is easy. Especially for little boys who would likely wear the same thing all 6 days.

Put an outfit together for each day. T-shirt, shorts, underwear and socks. (Shoutout to @aboutone and their squirrely t-shirt that my kid loves!)

Label everything! Or at the very least, only send stuff that you’re perfectly fine with not coming home.

Gallon zipper bags are your new BFF. Label a bag with the day and slip the clothing right in. The kid knows it’s Tuesday and wears whatever’s in Tuesday’s bag!

Extra clothes I simply put in bags together. Shorts, shirts, underwear, socks. They each get a bag labelled EXTRA!

Each night, this camp has a special theme. Each night had a separate bag as well.

pack in zipper bags

Step 3: Group all the other junk together.

Things that go in the dopp kit? Throw them in a bag and in the kit.

Things that will be used in and around the bunks? Throw them in a bag.

packing in zipper bags

Step 3: A bunk bag.

I gave Henry a messenger bag that I got at Type A. He calls it his bachelor bag for some strange reason. (Don’t ask!)

It’s the perfect size for him to keep in his bunk with his journal, markers, notecards (that I’m sure he didn’t write) and his stuffed animal.

man bag for camp

Step 4: Pack it up!

Throw all that goodness in the bag.

pack for camp

Make sure you remember a fan, towels, sheets, washcloths and extra shoes. They’ll need a rain jacket, water bottle, swimsuits (give them a plastic bag) and a mesh laundry bag. Expect that every article of clothing may or may not have to be trashed when it gets home.

Put the sheets and fan at the top so you can have those immediately when you get there.

Step 5: Take a deep breath, relax and send them on their way for an adventure of a lifetime!

henry ready for camp

Teach A Man To Fish…

Written last Sunday morning.

I’m sitting on the porch, listening to the wind chimes go tink-tink-tink.

Jason’s out in the boat, somewhere on the other side of the lake.

My son is standing confidently on the dock with his rod and reel, casting like a professional angler.

All 52” of him is invested in every tiny aspect of what he’s doing. His arms, legs, face, mouth, legs, brain. I can see it all working together in perfect unison.

He’s got his own rhythm to casting and reeling it in – one, two, three, four, five, six, puuuuuullllll, one, two, three, four, five, six, puuuuuuuullllll. Over and over again.

He gets caught on something. He calls me thinking he’s got a fish. Then he says, “nevermind, it’s just a tree.” Not with a voice of disappointment, either. That’s just what happens when you’re fishing.

He brings the line in, with a little squishy and stinky plastic worm on the end. He’s inspecting it like it’s a precious gem. Something isn’t right, I guess. He carefully lays the rod down on the dock, walks to the end and sits down by the worm. He wiggles and fiddles, apparently adjusting it to be just right on the hook. The real, sharp, pointy, adult-type hook.

He knows what to do.

He stands with authority. His brain is quiet. He is patient.

He does just what his Daddy has taught him.

Time. Words. Actions.

That’s how fishing is taught. It isn’t something you learn in a classroom. You can’t. It’s something you learn over time.

It’s learned by watching the actions of others and having the desire to do this activity together, just the two of you.

With a patient instructor, an eager student, a body of water and time, the special skill of fishing is passed from one generation to another.

Just like Jason’s father taught him, he is teaching Henry.

Two of the biggest lessons that fishing is instilling in our son are ones that will last a lifetime.

Fishing isn’t all about the fish. It’s about being in the quiet, just you and the world surrounding you. Once you learn it, it can never be taken away, only shared.

What’s that saying?

Give a man a fish and you feed him for a day. Teach a man to fish and you feed him for a lifetime. ~Chinese Proverb

And you also learn that sometimes you win, and sometimes you don’t. There are a lot more opportunities in a morning on the water to catch nothing than to catch something.

But when you do catch something, it’s totally ok to say it was twice as big as it really was!

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