Working For A Living

Thursday January 20th, 2011 - Grand Cayman Island

   Back to the nautical life and all that goes with it. I don’t know where my little two week sabbatical went, but it’s long gone. It feels like I just got home, and now I’m out again on a completely different ship with completely different people, even though it looks exactly the same as all the others did. Whatever thrill of adventure this process once had is gone.

   I always seem to fall behind the night before I leave for these trips and I did it yet again yesterday. I was busy working on preparing for the ‘Schlitz Happened!’ show and getting caught up on emails and before I knew it I had to pack and get to Jim McHugh’s house.

   I can’t be more grateful for both Jim and Marc Schultz, who have gone out of their way to help me with getting to and from the airport. They’ve both saved me a ton of cash and I really appreciate it. Parking at the airport is always ridiculously expensive, so this helps.

   I got to the airport around 3am for my 5:35 flight to Miami. I haven’t had to go through the security process in a while and I was just starting to forget how much I despise it. The brutally long line with strategically placed self important TSA monkeys barking orders to a tired bunch of non terrorist looking travelers made me once again loathe their existence.

   Of course people have to make a living, but this job seems to be for those who aren’t on any particularly adventurous career path. They exist for reasons I still don’t understand, to poke their noses into everyone’s business. It’s the government invading private lives, and I don’t like the idea of that at any time, but especially 4am. It bothers me, but that’s life.

  Then, on the flight from Chicago I had to sit next to married Bears fan couple and listen to them babble on how the team was going to cream the Packers and how they were going to have a big Super Bowl party at their house and blah, blah, blah. I tried to go to sleep as fast as I could, and I hope I snored, sneezed, coughed and farted the whole way to Miami.

   There was a two hour layover in Miami, one of my least favorite airports, then about an hour flight to Grand Cayman Island. Getting off the plane in tropical sunshine was a treat, but only for a few seconds as I had to get in line to go through customs. Then I had to find my luggage, which they had to check because there wasn’t enough room inside the plane.

   These little hassles all in a row add up, and it really frazzles the nerves. I’ve had to do it every time I’ve been here, and it just gets old. I finally jumped through all their hoops but then there were no cabs, and I had to wait until one showed up. I barely got to the ship on time, but I did. I got lost finding my room, but it looks exactly like all the others I’ve had.

   I checked my performing schedule and tonight was my three show night. That’s a lot of work after a long day of travel, but that’s how it is. I unpacked, took a shower and found out my toilet doesn’t flush. I had to find my cabin steward and report it, which I did. This kind of stuff happens every week at any time, and it’s never predictable. The shows went fine, but I’m beat. My days of being the tireless young stallion are over. This is WORK.

Posted via email from Dobie Maxwell's "Dented Can" Diary