Up goes the flaps, down go the wheels...

RIP Maynard Ferguson (via Darcy). Doug Ramsay has a nice tribute here It's funny, on Cruise Ship X every week we have this daredevil balancing act, who does a big chunk of his routine to Maynard's version of Birdland. It's nice, if kind of painful, to be reminded of a time when hearing jazz in these kinds of settings was a normal thing. Also, Maynard was a presence on the scene of artists and thinkers involved in psychedelia in the 60s- there's a great scene in the Ram Dass video "Fierce Grace" where he is on the roof of Dass' house in New England, high on something, blowing his tail off. A larger than life presence who will be missed.

On a more personal note, I am taking a week or so off from ye old blog. As I may have mentioned once or twice, I sign off Cruise Ship X on Monday, and I'll head to Pittsburgh to visit my grandmother (great food, great people, no internet) for a few days before heading back to Boston. I plan to be back then with some final, and less guarded, commentary on cruise ships in general and cruise ship X in particular. Until then, please frequent the blogs to the right, and enjoy the last bit of summer!

10 Days left on Cruise Ship X (yippee!), which means it's time for the:

Top Ten signs you've been a Cruise Ship Musician for Too Damn Long:

(note: I did my damnedest to do a list that had the fewest possible cruise ship in-jokes. I failed.)

10. You see a comedian come on stage, and recite his routine along with him verbatim.
9. Mexico feels more like home than Manhattan.
8. "Greasy Rubbery Grade-C Steak Night" in the mess qualifies as an exciting event.
7. A room with a nine-foot ceiling feels really, really spacious.
6. Gorgeous half-naked dancers prancing around backstage have no effect on you whatsoever.
5. You sing your favorite song the way it appears in a production show.
4. You're accustomed to taking orders from someone who tells fart jokes for a living.
3. You devolve into a sputtering drunk who hates music.
2. You no longer order your drinks in English.
1. You walk down the street yelling "Ciao!" to random passersby.

By six of these measures, I've been on a cruise ship for way too damn long. But you knew that already.

Yup, these are our customers.

On the bandstand of Cruise Ship X, during the dance set. A woman, who looks like a wax museum version of Zsa Zsa Gabor, comes up and asks, with a thick Latin accent:

"Could you play 'Begin the Beguine'? Oh, that is the story of my LIFE!"

I think I'll wait for the movie to come out. We didn't play it, opting for "Tico Tico" instead.

Oh, the MySpace is working again- techincal difficulties on their end, no doubt. I'll be doing a seperate MySpace for No Sale Value soon, as we attempt to resurrect ourselves. More soon.

In the meantime, ManahManah.

penalty kicks

Overheard on Cruise Ship X this weekend: "Is this soccer stuff over yet? NASCAR's on, dammit." (I don't get NASCAR, I will never get NASCAR. Call me an east coast elitist, but I think it's the biggest waste of gas and beer in American history.)

And Italy wins the world cup. Zidane, what the hell were(n't) you thinking?! Not quite the Hollywood ending everyone was hoping for. Hell, I was rooting pretty hard for France, or better put against Italy all game (reasons to be explained, well, later), and I couldn't muster much after the head butt.

Oh, and France's first goal was due entirely to a bad call. (as really, was Italy's whole run) The guy flopped. Here I agree with some of the louder American sports pundits- soccer, will never, NEVER catch on in the states as long as players keep flopping like fish in a rowboat trying to get foul calls. Our sports culture prizes toughness above all- Willis Reed, Schilling's bloody sock, Jordan scoring 50 with the flu, etc. We think anyone who flops that much is a creampuff who should go buy some, er, toughness. And while I'm no great fan of masochism, I don't think this is necessarily a bad thing.

Unless Creampuff's name is Dwayne Wade, and it's the NBA Finals. But that's another story...

As long as this is turning into a sports blog... thanks to the World Cup I saw American ESPN this month for the first time in ages, and Sportscenter was already doing a blow by blow of next football season. Guys, overkill, just a little? On the bright side, they had the Patriots going to the Superbowl. Or is that the kiss of death?

Finally, my beloved Red Sox are three games up in the East going into the all-star break, and I'm officially in withdrawl. I'm getting results sporadically on (Latin) ESPN and the web. I haven't seen a game all season. It's at the point where I snap at people when I see them wearing a Yankees hat. (I'm buying one foreign friends, who really doesn't know any better, a Red Sox cap, just so they won't wear their damnYanks hat around me. I'm going that bonkers...)

Current listening- Los Gauachos II, Guillermo Klein. I think I want to marry Luciana Souza. My god, she's is there anything she can't sing? More on the album very soon, I promise.

Theatre of the absurd, seaside edition...

From the "did I really see that?" department of Cruise Ship X:

-We have our own small contingent of Socceroos (Aussie fans) on board Cruise Ship X, and watching a World Cup match with them is a sight to behold. Like a lot of Americans, they're not espcially tuned in to the nuances of the game (contrast with, well, just about every other nationality on the ship). Which doesn't stop them from going bonkers while watching- screaming at everything, up and down out of their chairs, a lot of yelling at the ref, etc. (And remember, this is a lifelong Red Sox fan talking). Oh, and they were sober- it was the middle of the day, and most of us still had to work. They're playing Italy as I speak-we have a big Italian contingent on board. I wish I were watching them right now- the fans, not the game. Though I'm sure that will be fun too. (EDIT- as anyone follwing the Cup knows, the Socceroos lost to Italy on a phantom foul call in the box, one of the most eggregious pieces of bad officiating I've seen in awhile. A win for Italy, a loss for soccer. At this point, Ukraine is the only team left I'm really rooting for- family ties- and Italy is the only team I'm rooting against...)

-Between ships and life in the arts, you get used to seeing, well, quirky people. But this one still got me- one of my new colleagues talks to his food while he spoons it out of the dinner buffet. Talks to it: "Well, you look like a great piece of chicken. And how about you? And don't you pineapple look great today..." In a room full of people, no less. I've never seen the likes of it. Have you, Mr. Computer Keyboard?

Did I graduate yet?

Like many unsigned musicians, I put the No Sale Value CD up for sale on CDBaby, the great site where any (and every)one can sell their music on very reasonable terms, and the only people that give indies easy ITunes access. The founder, Derek Silvers, ahas put up a lot of how-top and advice essays on success, starting with "Life is Like High School".

Putting aside for a minute how revolting a thought that is (and I had a relatively good high school experience), I think he's right more often than not, especially as it relates to the music business. Which is probably why I'm on cruise ship X and not touring with No Sale Value at present...

I bring that up because I'm asked by friends back home about the actual living on the boat, and well, Cruise Ship X (and, I hear, all of them) is, well, just like high school, only with LOT more alcohol. Cliques, created to some extent by occupation and language, lots of social awkwardness, more than a smattering of the kind of "you know, she likes you" stuff I thought I left behind when I hit 30. Hell, 25! Silly me. Most days I just watch it go by but yesterday it bit me on the ass in a big way- nothing exciting, just typical boy-girl BS that I'll probably forget in 24 hours. Barely worthy of Univision, but still...

Why the hell do grown adults do this to themselves? If you took a step back and actually looked at it, you'd laugh, then hit yourself on the head with something blunt and heavy. Yet every night it continues...

Okay, enough needless bitching. Current listening is a Ron Miles kick, now Laughing Barrell, but previously Woman's Day with Frisell, and My Cruel Heart, a masterpiece. That Ron is not better known, despite sideman turns with Frisell and Charlie Hunter, is a crime, especially when the likes of Nick Payton is as close to a jazz star as you get these days. What especailly amazes me is he creates these wild, loopy soundscapes, ("My Cruel Heart", "You Taste...", then cuts through them like a cannonball out of the fuzz. There's an integrity, both musical and spiritual, that shines through every note he plays, so that even the most dissonant line sounds like an angel's call. Something I deeply aspire to.

Goooooooal

A couple of random notes to start the week:

World Cup fever has taken over the better part of Cruise Ship X. (And unlike last time, you don't have to stay up until 4am to watch them) And I admit to being sucked in a bit- I'm in an office pool and everything. I'm clueless as to just about anything- I think Brazil is going to win because, well, everyone seems to think Brazil is going to win.

Happening alongside it stateside is, of course the NBA Finals. Wouldn't it be something if the best player in the NBA finals in the US is a German (Nowitzki, doing his best Larry Bird impression lately), while in Germany the US advances past the Germans in the World Cup. It's a very real possibility.

I have now topped 100 "friends" on MySpace. Thank you for your support; I don't quite know how to feel about it. That saud, new (or previously unheard, at least) music soon, I promise.

Yesterday I was listening to Wayne Shorter's most recent "Beyond the Sound Barrier" for the first time in a while. It's a mind-blowing record, even on the twentieth listen. It made me think, what exactly makes a song (or "song form) a song. For instance, "Joy Ryder" is stretched so far from the original recording twenty-some years ago as to be a different piece alltogether. I remember an interview with Miles in the '80s where he talked about a set list as a menu, a suggested starting place that you shouldn't take too literally. I never completely bought it with that Miles band, because so much was so preset (it seems more true in the second great quintet), but Wayne's band, and also bandmate Danielo Perez's current trio, seem to be taking that idea to it's further points.

now, the weather

Just in case we needed a reminder that hurricane season started last week, it rained most of the weekend. Really, really raining- big loud thunderstorms, first in the Bahamas Saturday, then more Sunday at sea. On a cruise ship, where one of the attractions for the customer is that we can, and usually do, steer around bad weather, believe me, it’s a very pleasant change of pace to have rain.

One of the things that I like most about life out here is the stark beauty of the weather, well, when we have any. On the ocean you can see the rain pouring down from the storm clouds, like a sheet connecting the heavens and the seas. On one side of the ship the sea will be its usual blue-green, on the other a swirling grey. It’s an obvious reminder of how big and powerful the ocean is, and how much respect it deserves, even on the very sheltered run we do.

There’s also the heat lightning, an uncomplicated but breathtaking phenomenon I don’t quite understand but see often. As the weather gets warmer, at night even if there’s no hint of rain we’ll get these amazing shows off the bow of the ship, peel after peel of lightning sizzling through an otherwise black sky.

Finally, Monday on the way to Key West we were visited by a school of dolphins, playing off the bow of the ship. It’s only the second time I’ve seen any in my time out here, but hopefully we will see more as the warmer water temperatures take hold. I know that dolphins have been romanticized in the American imagination to an almost silly point, but they are such beautiful, smart, playful creatures, especially in person, that it’s hard not to. After a very short time they realized that they were the show, so they started hamming for the audience- bouncing in and out of the water, playing chicken with the bow of the ship, the adults taking the lead while about a hundred yards away the young ones poked their much darker fins up now and again.

It's easy to get dark out here, and I certainly know why, but it has it's moments...