Atlantic Crossing - Part Ten

In the end I had done a complete about-face on the entire spa experience. Mel told me immediately that she can see very clearly, where the three rocks had been placed along my spine. Bright red. Not burnt crispy black like I had imagined. But quite red. Guess it was supposed to be that way all the while. I was able to check out the rest of the spa including having a sauna, then headed back to the pool deck and found Miss Mel still sleeping in the pod. She stirred and awoke and I gave her the news from the front.

I then told her I was off to the Apple Internet Cafe to try to figure out how to get the WiFi working. Well, as suspected, that problem was simply a matter of financing. Seems that you had to sign into the Silhouette's server first so they can begin charging you. They assign you an account and you buy WiFi minutes using your ship credit card. The more minutes you buy, the cheaper they cost. The smallest package was 75 cents (U.S.) a minute. The cheapest was 45 cents. I opt for 212 minutes at 45 cents each package.

Once understood, the rest was easy and I was up and running in no time. Checking e-mail was easy enough and not too costly. If a lengthy message arrived we would download everything, sign out, then go back and read off line. Writing was the same. Compose, save, sign in, send. This conserved our minutes as best as we could but we still chewed through them really quick.

Mel and I spent the afternoon lounging by the pool. Mostly asleep. We roused in time to try to make the Grand Cuvee for a sit-down dinner but there was such a huge line-up by the time we arrived we elected to head back to the Ocean View for another kick at the buffet. Good thing, too. They had the Goan Indian fish. And it seemed even hotter than the last time. Probably the same batch that just grew a little in 24 hours.
Brilliant!

Immediately following dinner we headed off to the Silhouette Theatre for our first, big Broadway-inspired show. It was actually very good. They had a lot of the same jazz musicians we had seen previously in other formats, doing the live big band thing. And they were great. That added four, star vocalists, surrounded them with a host of very capable dancers and unleashed the whole thing on a 3-D stage that elevated, telescoped, recessed and morphed 'Every Which Way But Loose'. They served up the major hits from select Broadway shows including Footloose, Grease, Cats and The Phantom, to name a few. All the while we were sucking back on Mojitos. Mmmmmm. Fresh mint. Good for you.

I can't speak to the hours the performers had to adhere to, but you have to believe this is an excellent gig for young talent. Everyone of the performers appeared to be no older than 30. Possibly 25. And they really were very good. So, too, the production and the staging. For a kid just out of school, with accommodation and meals all covered and you get time off in the ports of call to see the world like the rest of us, and get paid for it, it's a pretty good opportunity. I spoke to one employee in Guest Services who said you can actually get on and off ships in different cities if you want to have an extended stay somewhere. You just catch the next ship coming through. Not bad. Not bad at all.

Bed early after the show and sleeping again in no time. Same as home. For the last 18 months. This doing nothing is still exhausting.

Atlantic Crossing - Part Nine

Today the storm continued its assault. The captain spoke on the public address on schedule, at noon, and tells us this will be the worst day of the storm and by tonight it should begin to abate. We hear from a number of people the storm was taking its toll on several passengers. Mel and I never did get the sea sickness patch. Seems gin has the same medicinal effect.

So today was to be another day of rest. Mel took up her station by the indoor pool in the Jaws, with her book, and immediately fell asleep. You just can't help it. You crawl in there and it was like the enchanted field of poppies in the Wizard of Oz. You're gone. Comatose. I stopped by to check in on her on my way to the spa. I was heading for my first hot rock massage, a little apprehensive, wondering what the Hell that entails.

I found the spa. Deck 12, forward. In fact, as forward as you can go. As you waited to be called you were sitting above the bridge with full floor-to-ceiling glass looking out over the bow of the boat as it sailed east. They had you all relaxed on the comfy couches sipping tea and all was completely tranquil. Like a lamb to the slaughter.

A hot rock massage is all about very smooth stones, about the size of your hand, heated in hot water and applied to specific areas up and down the spine. Yeow! When they first landed I thought something must be wrong and I was willing to bet these things were stuck to my skin. Not just hot. DAMN HOT!! But I was thinking these folks must know what they are doing and I didn't want to be the wimp leaping from the table and running down the hall naked, screaming my exposed ass off. Besides, if there's one thing I've learned how to suck up over the last while it's a wee bit o' pain. So I waited it out and tried to focus on the other more pleasant stuff that should begin shortly.

Looking back I now think this bitch was just nasty. Not fond of men?? She wasn't that big but she sure packed a punch. And in no time she is up on the table with what seemed like most of her weight bearing down on my back. I can hear the titanium in my spine doing its click, click, click thing with each exertion she lays on. Not over the top but right to the limit for sure. At first I was thinking that this may have been a mistake. I have had 18 months of physical manipulation by the best in the business and I was never concerned for a minute. Until this.

Things eventually settled down. And after my initial shock, I accepted that I was not going to suffer any permanent damage and began to relax. She took the hot rocks, dipped 'em in hotter oil and used them to apply pressure to the muscles up and down the limbs. I expect I could have told her that she was freakin' me out but I'll admit there was a bit of that manly, macho, I-can-take-anything-you-can-dish-out-baby thing going on. And in the beginning I was right on the verge of "Uncle!!! Uncle!!! FOR CHRIST'S SAKE, UNCLE!!!! for at least the first 10 minutes. Which, by the way, is actually a very long time to have to be freakin' out about something like this. But by the end of the 90 minutes, I think I had relaxed to the point that I had either past out from the pain or I was sound asleep.

Atlantic Crossing - Part Eight

As we departed The Murano dining room we entered the Celebrity Lounge. This was the anteroom to all of the specialty dinning rooms and was the most formal bar on board. It was mostly a lounge with soft seating and subdued lighting creating dark nooks and crannies and often supports the best jazz viewing on the ship. Tonight, as we passed through, there was a trio playing, headed by the music director responsible for all music programs on board. He was the bass player and he was seated, on a stool, sporting an electric upright. He was supported by a drummer and a young lady who couldn't have been more than 25 years old, on piano and vocal. They played the classics and all of them were great.

I snuggle up to Miss Mel, arm around her waist and before you could say Jack Robinson we were scuffling 'round the dance floor to the music. While the place was fairly busy, the patrons were in their seats watching the band. Seems we were alone on the dance floor. All eyes were upon us. I was doing not too bad until the ship rolled, I listed, knocked into Mel and everything went sideways as we slid toward the tables. Without missing a beat, I regained my balance, bowed to the crowd, and with numerous "Thank you's, thank you's," scooped up Mel and, arm-in-arm, scooted out the open door. I don't think any one suspected a thing.

We found our way forward to the Silhouette Theatre. The crowd was gathering and all were taking their seats awaiting the arrival of Le Capitain. We were handed a flute of champagne upon arrival. It was a full house and I do believe the theatre holds about 1,000. The captain and his officers enter the stage. Big round of applause. The captain takes the mike and introduces his seconds. All Greek, including himself. After each introduction --- Head of Engineering, First Officer, Second Officer, Officer of the Night's Watch etc.,etc., --- he would pause a moment then quietly say, "Greek."

He then got to the last officer introduced. I think he was in charge of the treasury or some such thing and following the customary pause he almost whispers, "Not Greek." Seems the Greeks are very comfortable on the water. He then said, "Let us raise a glass in a toast to our voyage and, the good Lord willing, to finding land in under a week"! We drink.

The captain was a very good public speaker. Lots of laughs with the pregnant pauses in all the right places. He was also a very accomplished officer for only being in his 40s. And in command of Celebrities flag ship, no less! He told us he had begun his naval career at a very young age and worked his way to the top. Not all with Celebrity, of course, other than the last 10 years or so.

Mel had had it for the day and so, bidding adieu, headed off to the cabin. I decided I should likely release a wee dram o' the creature from the confines of its flask. And maybe a gar, top deck under the moon-lit skies. Yeah that's the ticket. But it seemed by this time, with the storm raging all around my head, I had forgotten about the one raging out side the boat. Deck 15. Midships.

Hmmmm. Kinda quiet up here tonight. Not many people around. The elevator door opened and the wind almost bowls me over before even stepping out to the deck. I hold on to my hat. Son of a Bitch she's a howling like I ain't never felt. Deck 15 not such a good idea. I recall that someone said there is a smoking area, somewhat out of the elements, on the 12th deck, starboard side, midships. I fight my way back into the elevator before it was "Man Overboard" and I am sucked out to sea.

The 12th deck was not all that much better. I guess outside is outside in a storm like this. But it was partially enclosed with the full height glass to the ocean and deck 14 above. And there were other diehards there looking for the same breath of fresh air. At least here you couldn't get blown overboard. Lighting a match was the biggest issue. Someone from the gallery produces a butane torch. Now that's arriving prepared. The whiskey is as good as ever. The gar 'bout the same and now I was making friends. Crazy people but friends just the same.

I have never felt such a warm strong wind in my life. I was sippin' the whiskey, smokin' the gar, chatting with the comers and goers and all the while you just could not ignore the environment around. Absolutely chaotic in both audio and visual. All the deck chairs aboard were tied down with rope or bungies or they would have been gone. Swept out to oblivion to feed the fish.

The good news was I didn't need an ashtray. The ash never formed. Didn't stand a chance. In fact, it appeared like the gar was being fanned with a bellows the entire smoke. No worries 'bout the gar going out. I hang in the vortex for about 30 minutes then make my way home. Day Two ends about 2:30 a.m. with my Scottish Kit strewn all over the room, the door wide open, the wind continuing to howl and me snuggled in to Mel with a mighty grin from ear to ear.

Atlantic Crossing - Part Seven

Mel and I headed over to the photographer who had set up opposite us on the other side of the atrium to capture the patrons as they passed by. Just hand over your ship card and the rest is painless. At least 'till you have to pay the piper.

Mel and I sidled up and begin performing enumerable calisthenics and unnatural acts for the photographer to work her magic. Sideways, headstands, me on all fours and Mel spurrin' the bull. Etc., etc. Mel looks awesome. Me? Well what can you do with old fat guy? Dress him up in a skirt. Lots of bright colours, flashy buttons and an ornate jeweled sword, all wrapped up in a crisp bow tie and I still look like a soggy mutt. With a grin from floppy ear to floppy ear.

Before it was all said and done, we had the bit of a queue that had formed, the photographer and ourselves in a wee laughing fit. Something about the fat guy in a kilt I think. We move out to dinner.

The Silhouette had four specialty restaurants aboard. In addition to the Ocean View (the buffet) and the Grande Cuvee (the sit-down) you could, for any evening dinner, choose to dine in the exquisite elegance afforded by any of the four. Actually, three for the masses. One of the facilities, The Spa, was reserved for members of the health club. Surprise, surprise --- neither Mel or I ever got around to joining that club. The choices for fine dinning included The Murano, Qsine and TheTuscan Grill.

All of these three involved a flat, additional fee of $40 per couple for attendance, over and above the included free food package offered everywhere else. But as it turns out, this fee is negotiable as you get to know the ship personnel. Tonight we visited The Murano. Classic Italian fare with a French service flair in that they prepared some of the dishes table side. We discovered that the theme of this restaurant as well as the theme of The Tuscan Grill change depending on the destination of the cruise. As we were destined for Rome, both restaurants were providing Italian along the way.

The restaurant was all a bustle yet our seating was quite secluded. Before starting, I requested the sommelier and he arrived in short order. I explained our purchase of the specialty wine package and asked if he would recommend, from our wines available, something that would complement our dinner choices. He was more than pleased to comply.

Mel and I settle in to the decisions confronting us. One is simple. Two, warm-seared, low fat, pate de fois gras, avec une petit morceaux du poire brissee sur le cote. Tremendous. For the primi plat, Melanie settled on a truffle risotto and I elect the diver scallops en croute. The second includes beef tenderloin done three ways pour ma femme and I opt for the sea bass. Yes I know it's endangered. But I figure, some very bad man already killed it, so how much worse could it get? Absolutely delicious.

Then the carte du fromage arrived at table. Mel decided on three hard selections and I go for the opposite end of the spectrum, including one that is sooooo runny and odorous it is remarkable they allowed it on board. This course was paired with a Portuguese 1986 Port. Heavenly.

Somehow the maitre d' knew it was our anniversary. I guess when I booked the cruise way back in December I told somebody and that info found its way months and miles later to our table side. The waiter showed up with an exquisite, triple creme, chocolatey mousse, fudgie-onna-top, cake thingy with Happy Anniversary scripted all over. Of course this, after we had already ordered an orange souffle for our dessert. That arrived all beautifully puffy and somehow hollowed out. They then poured the most exquisite liquidy chocolate sauce into the centre so it erupted up and over and flowed down the sides, surrounding and engulfing all of the inhabitants of the village. So we ate them too.
Delicious.

The waiter and our bus lady approached the table. They congratulated us on 25 years of marital bliss. They then told us they were engaged to be married! They had met elsewhere but soon after decided they wanted to travel the world together while making some money. So they signed on with Celebrity. As we were chatting, the maitre d' and a chef from the kitchen arrive table-side. Quite a crowd was gathering at this point. Turns out, not just any old line chef. This is the head chef d'cuisine pour toute le bateau!!!! And she's a woman from Scotland. When she heard there was a member of the clan in the house that night she had to come out and say hello. I rise from my chair and she said, "No, no please, stay seated." I reply, "How am I to thank you with a big hug for such a spectacular meal from down there in the chair?" Laughs all around. Followed by a very kind hug and we were outta there looking for the next adventure.

Atlantic Crossing - Part Six

Mel arrived and found me in the pod by the indoor pool. She climbed in with a book and we relaxed watching the water flow on by. We'd read. We'd sleep. We'd wake, read again and fall asleep. Most of the morning passed us by in just this way. Eventually I crawled out of the Jaws of Inactivity, as the pod affectionately became to be known, and I spied a masseuse who has set up a massage chair over by the entrance to the spa.

Mel encouraged me to go have a seat. I do and as soon as the shirt comes off the lady sees the scar and asks if there is anything she should be aware of before she gets started. I gave her a brief history and she explains that while they are not set up for physio, a gentle hot rock/ hot oil massage might be just the thing to keep me tuned up.

I got the 10-minute warm-up in the chair and made an appointment for the full-on the next afternoon. I headed back to the Jaws and crawled in with Mel. She was in sound-asleep mode. The ocean was in rolling-by mode and the wind was still in hurricane-blow mode. I sat with the i-Pad and took notes of our adventure so far. I had realized soon enough that I would need to take notes daily of our activity if I were to recall everything. Notes could be banged off quickly. The writing took much longer. I whipped off two days of adventure so far over the remainder of the afternoon.

Eventually it was time to get out of Jaws and start pulling ourselves together for our first dinner in formal attire. Formal because tonight was the captain's official welcoming of the guests. After dinner you had an opportunity to meet and greet the captain following his champagne toast to all aboard, which was conducted in the Silhouette Theatre, fore-ship, decks three and four.

We headed to our state room. All the laundry sent for pressing had returned. Mel dons her most beautiful satin silvery grey chiffon dress and wrastle into my red plaid skirt. Kilt actually. With the vest and matching Prince Charlie jacket. And the sporran. With the flask. For the whiskey. And the dirk. For defence. And the skindu. For when they take away me dirk.

We looked smashing. And that's good because although there is no prize for best-dressed, there are photographers all over the ship tonight ready and willing to take your picture and then your money. We headed out looking for a pre-dinner cocktail. We arrived at the Martini Bar, fifth deck, overlooking the atrium and pulled up two large wing back chairs in view of the band on the atrium floor, deck three.

Mel was in for the Gibson and I went with the Hendricks on ice with olives. There was a four-man, a capella group singing on stage. They were excellent, but not really what the crowd was looking for at a 7 p.m cocktail hour. We listened to the music, sipping our drinks watching the elevators rise and fall like pistons in an engine. All the formal wear stepping in and stepping out. Mostly tuxedos accompanying the most beautiful ball gowns and evening dresses done up to the nines.

We watched a family with two young lads aged 10 and 12-ish, with father and sons all in Scottish Kit, unload from the elevator and approach. Cordial greetings from one clan to another and we learned there are four families on board, all related, with three generations each to celebrate the 50th wedding anniversary of the grandparents. We let 'em know of our 25th and after a short chat, they moved off toward dinner.

The waitress returned and asked if she could refill the Martinis.
"No thank you. But you could refill the flask if you would".
"No problem sir. What would you like in the flask"?
"Irish whiskey"
"No problem sir. We have Bushmills and Jameson."
"Jameson, I think"
"No problem sir"
She returns with the flask in minutes and says, "That will be $30, please. On your room account"?
Yikes! I vow to buy a bottle in the on-board liquor store the next day.

Atlantic Crossing - Part Five

The Ocean View Cafe. Aft, 14th deck. The largest restaurant on the ship. The only sizable restaurant with an exterior component. Fifteenth deck, at the rear of the ship, tapers outward to provide cover for 14, which is a covered terrace and partly open to the elements. Tables at which you can eat, read or write. And soft couches and cushy armchairs with coffee tables. Or, if you prefer, as we discovered, laying down for a quiet afternoon nap on the couches. Much softer than the deck chaises available in so many other areas of the ship and not much in demand. Possibly because all of the time we were mid-Atlantic it just wasn't that warm outside. It's certainly was not where you would want to be when the wind is blowing like it's been blowing so far.

Mel heads to the fresh fruit. Cottage cheese, pineapple, melons of various sorts, nuts and berries. Who was she trying to kid? (Although any time you can avoid all other temptations was absolutely a good thing.) I'm over at the scrambled eggs, bacon, sausage --- two types --- boudin en blanc avec caramelized onions, broiled tomato, mushrooms, (very English breakfast) smoked salmon with chopped egg, capers, minced onion, chopped parsley and lemon AND une petit morseau du pickled herring. 'Cause it's good for you. And should, theoretically, counter all that's bad for you. Right.

Well, you would think after all that, it would be directly back to bed. But no. Mel hopped on the phone and signed up for time in the art studio later that afternoon. I headed to the 12th deck. Midships. To the massively huge, outdoor entertainment facility. Just a detail to clarify for those really keeping track: there is no 13th. For the same old, same old as everywhere else. The 14th deck, outside the Ocean View, aft, had a small staircase down towards the 12th deck midships.

Taking that staircase, you would land smack dab in the middle of the outdoor pools, hot tubs and sun decks. Stay to the outside of the 14th deck, thereby avoiding the staircase, you could walk clear around the entire facility looking down on the recreation area below. Down on to the pools. And there's three total --- two outdoor and one completely enclosed further towards the bow. Finding sun, shade, quiet, busy, indoor, outdoor, with music, or without, is often simply a function of cloudy or not.

At the moment it was not only cloudy but there was a storm raging. Indoor pool best, me thought. There are four hot tubs accompanying the two outdoor pools. The indoor one has two hot tubs. I set up around the perimeter. Up against the floor-to-ceiling glass panels overlooking the sea rolling by are these large, futon-like pods. Each one easily held two people. King-size, and round. And they sat up on a base of teak two feet from the deck, with a beautifully soft mattress and a canvas, telescoping lid, that folds up and down like a shell. You put the lid up and it completely engulfs you on three sides, open only to the ocean view. I swear you could do just about anything you might be so inclined to do in there and no one, anywhere, would be the wiser. Unless of course there happened to be an audio component to whatever it was you chose to do. In which case there was a fire hose cabinet nearby and I expect you'd find yourself doused and blown away by the ship's Fun Police in minutes.

I made my first attempt at getting the WiFi operating so I could Facetime the kids. No go. I realize quickly that WiFi is not something readily available. It was something that you have to pay for. I had a bad feeling that this is going to be another one of those things that just ain't cheap on a ship.

Atlantic Crossing - Part Four

Seeking coffee, I bounced my way down the hall, like a pin ball through the chutes, to the elevator lobby. This first cup was not to be just any old coffee. Any old coffee would mean an elevator ride to the 14th floor. No sireee. This was first morning coffee and I was hunting the good stuff. That meant one flight of stairs down to the Bacachi Cafe, home of Mr.Bean the barista. I learned on my first encounter with this guy that not only did he look to me exactly like Mr.Bean, he was actually called the same by all his colleagues. What a hoot. He and I hit it off immediately, which worked very much in my favour because he not only worked the espresso machine in the coffee bar, he worked the the gin machine in the Sunset Bar as well. But more on that later.

It was remarkable to me that on a ship of 2,500 guests, how so many of the staff could remember what you were interested in drinking at any given time. By the third day this guy knows that I wanted a double decaff, black Americano, no sugar, and Mel wanted the same except with frothed milk. And he would greet me by name and would have the order underway by the time I sidled up. Remarkable.

I picked up my half of the order, sat by the window and downed my first cup while looking out at the vast sea a churning. I was now on the fifth deck but it didn't look much different than the view from my room on the deck above. I then asked to get the order filled again, adding one cup for Mel, and scurried off upstairs to deliver my gal her first of many coffees in bed. Bit of a trick due to the rock and roll of the ship but I used to be a waiter so I arrive with the cups more than half full.

Mel was awake. I filled her in on the ship's status while she filled herself with coffee. Her first order of business was to call the cabin steward to pick up our laundry because of the formal that night! Much of our stuff was crushed from the packing and needed to be straightened. "No problem sir. You need it for the festivities tonight? No problem sir" And off he went.

We had two gentlemen who were our cabin stewards. They look after 20 cabins on our floor. I have no idea how much these guys were paid, but I know it wasn't enough. These guys worked their asses off the entire two weeks. It seems they were there at our beckon call, 24 hours a day. I say seems because we never did call them at 3 in the morning, but I expect if we did the junior of the two would show up. I can say for certain that they were at it from 7AM. until 11PM.

With the laundry out the door we followed immediately there after for our first of many, breakfast buffets in the Ocean View Restaurant.

Atlantic Crossing - Part Three

In spite of a rather turbulent sea, Mel and I both slept straight through the night. Guess the excitement of our big Celebration Day and the day of travel has caught up with us. We had left the balcony door wide open all night and woke to a howling wind. It was blowing like I had never seen. Some time during the night the winds had picked up. I got up and looked at the clock. 7:30AM. Outside and it looked kinda like 3:00AM dark. It first occurs to me that the clock is incorrect. I turn on the TV and it confirms the time. Looks like we had headed into somewhat of a storm overnight. I headed back out to the balcony, grabbed the banister and looked over the edge.

"It was an angry sea, Billy." Although from six stories up it's difficult to make out the contrast of what was really going on. But it sure looked like a lot of white and not much blue. The on-board weather channel on the TV was very cool. It showed you by a satellite GPS image exactly where you were and it gave you a kind of big picture of what was going on around the ship at any given moment. The weather, the wind velocity, the temperature and depth of the water, the surface height of the waves, etc., etc.

At the moment we were experiencing winds over 45 miles an hour. They were coming at us from the southeast and we were heading into them doing 18 knots. The resulting wave action was cresting at 25 feet high. Looking over the side they didn't seem that big a deal. I looked at the screen on the Apple plasma. The ship was still west of Newfoundland. The ocean floor was about 4,000 feet down. I stood for a second unhinged from the bannister and felt the sway. I had not really noticed it up to now but this baby was rockin'!

I glanced over at my girl with her head on the pillow and she was still sleeping like a baby in a cradle, rocking gently on the porch. I opened the door to our stateroom and stepped into the hall. The corridors on these ships are like very narrow bowling alleys. About the same size. Certainly no bigger. More likely they're a lot narrower. With walls. And that's the best part cause the walls are the only thing that keeps you on the straight and narrow. You use 'em to bounce off of as you try and walk a straight line. I saw a number of men using them every time they saw an attractive woman coming at them. It's a narrow corridor after all. And the ship is a wobblin' like a slowing top.

As they were about to pass the gals in the hall, they would actually run into 'em full on. Arms and hands spread akimbo, out everywhere to grab on and steady the whole mess. And who's to say where you land in a train wreck? They'd make their excuses, all very reasonable, in the aftermath. "Oh, pardon me. I'm terribly sorry. Excuse me. Oh my gosh! Are you OK"? Then they would straighten up and move on down the line.

It wouldn't surprise me a bit if this were one of the more popular, unwritten pastimes on a cruise ship.

Atlantic Crossing - Part Two

It was so easy to navigate around the ship in spite of its size. The ship had two main elevator banks. One aft, one midships as they say. The aft has two elevators, both facing the bow. The midships had six, parallel with port and starboard. Facing out. Three port and three starboard. (That's right and left, respectively, for you non nautical types.) And with 16 decks, that's hmmmmm ... lemme do the math ... 48 elevator lobbies!!!!! The six midships elevators were all glass and overlooked an immense atrium of ten stories. From deck three to deck fourteen. In each elevator lobby on every floor there was a five-foot long, clear acrylic model of the ship showing where you were standing. Absolutely critical in orienting and guiding you.

We found our way to our room in minutes. And what a beaut it was! A king-size bed, rounded-at-the-foot-end. Private washroom with shower and a gorgeous, 50-square-foot balcony equipped with two deck chairs and a table. A digital, Apple-powered plasma TV that served as an entertainment system as well as an information hub for everything from viewing your photographs, to European navigation maps, to your account summary. And you could order just about anything you could think of, through the TV. Whatever your heart's desire shows up at your door within 15 minutes and it was usually free!! For the food, that is. Booze, not so much. You could also dial up the camera on the bridge and watch the captain's view of where we were heading, including the swish swish of the windshield wiper on the stormy days.

Mel's bag arrived within the hour. One of mine took six hours and the second about nine. The first bag ---brand new for the trip, I might add --- had the top handle ripped right off! It even sheared through the sheet metal reinforcement buried in the fabric that anchored the handle to the bag. Earlier, I had seen the longshoremen moving everyone's luggage with fork lifts down on the dock. I assumed that's where mine met its fate. No damage to the contents and no real issue just the same. The room steward took the bag to the workshop, where it was fixed, better than new, within a day!! This was the first example of so many to follow that, what ever you want or require on this ship, you just gotta ask.

The ship's fog horn sounded and as we stepped out on to our balcony we realized the ship had begun moving from the dock. In about 15 minutes the Statute of Liberty came in to view off the port (our) side. We chatted and watched while sipping our champagne as we sailed past Lady Liberty until she disappeared in the distance.

Now to get to work .

First things first. The iPod was set up with the portable speakers and in no time we had Frank Sinatra croonin' through the room. All clothes were emptied and hung or had been sent off to the laundry for pressing. Second order of business once all else was settled in the cabin was to begin exploring the ship to familiarize ourselves with everything. Stepping from our stateroom the first thing we noticed was some live music playing nearby. Off we headed in that direction.

Midships, on the third deck, we found the Celebrity Stage at the bottom of the Grand Atrium, nestled in amongst the two elevator banks. Over the course of the next few days there would be a steady stream of musicians who would entertain from this stage. The first time there, we were delighted with a great jazz band that boasted a piano, bass guitar, drums, assorted horns, a trombone, a trumpet and two saxes --- tenor and alto. They were playing in an atrium that climbed from the 3rd to the 14th floor and the sound of the band could be heard clearly throughout.

We sought 'em out. The band also included a young female doing the lead vocals, a guitar that handled the lead and rhythm, and everyone either took a lead vocal now and again, or they would sing harmony back-up. The bone player had a huge front-loaded "Kramer from Seinfeld" black afro doo going on and was blowing a bright yellow plastic trombone! I ain't never seen such a thing. These folks were great. We find out later that they would play all over the ship in various combinations and had a huge repertoire from pop, to Motown, Fifties to blues and straight ahead party by the pool rock and roll. Not to mention the jazz.

We found a Martini on the fifth floor over looking the band and ordered up a Gibson for the lady and some Hendricks pour moi to enjoy while we listened to the music and watched the crowd. Soon enough it was time to dress for dinner, which was followed by the captain's official welcome and toast to the ship.

Dinner was in the Grand Cuvee Restaurant. This as an alternative to the Ocean View previously described. This is the more formal, fixed time restaurant with a menu that changes daily. All cruises have them. The first seating was 6:30 or, our choice, 8:30. We are seated at a table for six but there are so many opportunities for meals around here the chances are, should we choose this option, we are likely to dine on our own on any given night.

This first evening has us paired with Jay and Kathy from Texas. Rather than starting with our wine package, we order a couple of single glasses cause we were both thinking an early night tonight. A Chardonnay from Sonoma for me and a red Merlot from Washington State for Miss Mel. Both were excellent. And I have my first piece of oh-so-many servings of fish. A morsel of grilled haddock that is perfectly charred, moist and exquisite. Miss Mel opted for the coq au vin. Very French smothered in a red wine reduction. Also very good. Lots of great conversation with the folks from Texas. A wee decaf espresso and it was off to an early lights out. We opened wide the door to our balcony and with the wind blowing, and the sound of the ocean waves breaking, we drifted off to sleep aided by the very relaxing roll of the ship as we head out to open ocean.

Atlantic Crossing - Part One

Up and out at the crack of dawn. Taxi's at the house at 6. Saying goodbye to Lisa and Miss Molly was kinda tough. Hopefully, we'll see Lisa in France. At the airport we check in --- at no extra cost --- three, extremely heavy bags that are absolutely packed to the hilt and absolutely necessary to blow out the fun meter for two weeks on the ocean. Or so we think. After all, there is nothing more popular with the ladies than a man in a kilt on a cruise ship. Or so I think.

First row in first class afforded us the comfiest seats on the plane. Fifty seven minutes later we were in Newark, New Jersey. Grabbed a cab and twenty minutes later we were standing at the Celebrity embarking zone in Bayonne, New Jersey. They processed everyone in a giant warehouse that seemed miles from the ship. But you could see it in the distance. And the objective was gargantuan. Immense. An absolutely mind-boggling testament of man's technological achievement. A Solstice class ship. The largest class in the world. At least at the moment. This baby was in its inaugural year. Built in Germany. Launched in 2011 to the Caribbean. Now on its second crossing of the Atlantic with 2,800 passengers and 1,000 crew aboard. Heading for the summer service in the Mediterranean.

I could not believe the size of the thing. And I guess when you consider where we are heading, bigger was better. Six, New-York-City blocks long and 16 decks high. I believe there were at least another four somewhere way under the water line that house the working class, but you wouldn't find any information on that, anywhere aboard.

Check-in and setting up accounts took another twenty minutes. Bags were tagged and we were separated from our tonne of luggage. Thanks be to Jesus. Already I was exhausted from hauling the stuff. Seems Jimbo was right about our packing. Again.
Mel and I were shuttled to the gang plank and we walked on board to a host of greetings from ship personnel and we are handed our first glass of champagne.

We were informed by ship personnel, and shortly thereafter over the PA system, that the previous guests had just disembarked from their journey from the Caribbean and, as such, our staterooms were in a stately mess. We were therefore asked to proceed to the welcoming lunch buffet in the Ocean View Restaurant up on Deck 14. "No problem," says I. "Perhaps another glass of champagne would be appropriate for the excessive elevator ride up that many floors"? Seems that was expected and we were recharged after quickly guzzling the first.

Although we didn't know it yet, the Ocean View Restaurant was a place we would spend a fair bit of time over the next 14 days. This place operated from 6:30 a.m. until 1:30 a.m., seven days a week and had a stupidly large amount of the most excellent quality food available ALL THAT TIME!!!!

Let's see now. Just a wee sample of what is going on, every day, most of the time. The Mexican food station. Tacos, chilli, guacamole, chicken and/or beef in mole sauce, red or green. And of course the prerequisite, rice, beans, salsa and fresh cut jalapeños to throw on everything.

The Indian food station. Two meat curries, one hot, one not. Typical examples would include lamb madras, beef vindaloo and/or butter chicken. Always a fish curry and the goan was actually blazing. Very unusual if I might say for a buffet. Although I never witnessed it, there must have been a fair number of passengers in serious distress over this stuff. I loved every mouthful. Plenty of vegetable curries including aloo gobi, bindi, matter paneer, and dhal. Channa mostly. And the best mango chutney, naan bread, poppadoms, and riata. I ask you. How are you supposed to eat anything else? What with all this. The variety, the quality and the quantity. And it just kept coming. Everyday.

Other notable mentions were The Italian Pizza and Pasta Bar. Six types of pasta and six types of sauces. All the time. And if that isn't enough, add your own meat balls, sausage, grilled peppers, mushrooms, or build your own pizza with a possible 16 different toppings. Then there was the daily carvery with roast everything and anything in standard barnyard critters. Only one a day mind you. Guess they didn't want to be deemed too excessive or anything. Either roast prime rib, or sirloin of beef, leg of lamb, whole ham, crown roast of pork. And did I mention the sushi bar? Every happy hour beginning at 5 p.m. For two hours. All you can eat. I think they were catching the stuff out the back as we sailed along. Oh yes, and I should also say there was supposedly a salad bar somewhere hidden among all else but to quote Joe Walsh "I ain't never been the there ... they tell me it's nice".

So we sat down and helped our selves to the first of many meals while waiting for clearance to our room. Port side, aft of the second bank of six elevators, Deck Six. A little buffet lunch and some excellent coffee and before long the captain is on the PA welcoming us aboard and informing everyone that our staterooms were now ready and we may proceed.

The Wedding Day - Part Eight

Irene and Doris see me passing by the kitchen. They corner me and ask, "Have you eaten tonight"? "Absolutely," says I. Irene says, "Exactly what have you eaten"? And nothin' comes to mind. I couldn't even recall what was on the menu. The truth was I hadn't had a thing all night. I am grabbed by the earlobe and dragged to the table. A plate of roast beef, butter chicken and rice materializes. Delicious. As I am recharging, I speak to Irene about the same stuff discussed with Auntie M earlier in the day regarding Pops, the resurrection and the psychic. Again a very comforting conclusion for us both.

All in all, Mel and I both had wonderful exchanges with the myriad guests over the course of the evening. We just kept bumping into smily, happy, laughter-filled friends with well wishes for us both. Magical. there were a few notables that were unable to attend due to health reasons. Not their own. But persons dear. Phil and Rose were in Belleville with Phil's family mourning the passing of his dad two days earlier. Soprano diva extraordinaire Ms. Samantha Pickett who was to perform that evening was up in Waterloo with her mom and dad, mourning the passing of her most beloved Grandmother. And Stewart and Donna Sargent made it as far as Kingston earlier that day when the phone rang and they had to return to Montreal for a family medical emergency. All sorrily missed and our hearts are with them.

As the evening wound down, Miss Mel and I are sought out and escorted to the studio where we find our two wonderful kids seated in a circle on the floor with most of their friends and some of ours. Andrew Dawson has the mike. There is a Compi (sp?) about to begin. My first actually. This is a very fine tradition that the kids have begun some years ago where, when they get together they take time to formally speak to one another about what they are thankful for, what the friendship means to them, what's currently on their mind in general. Mel and I join them.
Mel's turn arrives. She states how thankful she is that her children were able to spend most of their educational years in such a creative environment with such a talented group of friends. She's crying ... . Again.

My turn comes up shortly there after and I let them know that I have friends here tonight that I have known since I was 5 years old. Friends of over 50 years. The most precious gift that anyone can still enjoy from their youth. What they have here is special indeed. And I hope they all can say the same when it's their time to look back. I then let them know how thankful Mel and I are that we built the music room and they have all come to use it and enjoy, time and time again, over the years. Big round of applause.

Ryan goes to take the mike. I say "Hey! Not done yet! I was on stage in front of 100 of my Canadian colleagues at a conference in Scottsdale, Arizona, 15 years ago when I singled out my sweetie in the audience and sang her, "Fly Me To The Moon" for our 10th anniversary." I look at her across the circle and begin again. Fifteen years later. This time with my kids. Immediately I am joined by all the singers in the group and we pull off a fantastic accapella eight-layered harmony that was as sweet as it ever was done. Lisa sticks her head in the door and says "It's 2 a.m. Your taxi to the plane is in four hours and there are three little dogs exploding all over my house. Let's go."
The End.
J.
PS I don't know who did and i never asked, but I didn't have to clean up the mess. Here or there.

The Wedding Day - Part Seven

Meanwhile, back at the fire, her other half, Mr. Jim is getting busy with tequila asking me if I would care for a shot of "The good stuff." Jim has a residence that he and Carol purchased near Puerto Vaharta, Mexico. He has become somewhat of a tequila connoisseur and drags the best of the best home with him when he returns. Lucky me.
Devon hears the whole exchange, and the offer of shots, and comes running. Shot glasses quickly appear and minutes later, after about 15 years of cautious waryism , 'cause my daughter is a smart gal, Jim Comley is Devon's new best friend. Hmmmmmm ... seems Dev likes tequila.

Shortly after the tequila, yours truly is passing through the back hall when I bump into Ms. Cheryl Ledamun with one of Dev's cupcakes about to take her first bite. Somehow an image pops into mind and I ask her if I may borrow the cup cake "for just a second. I'll give it right back". She says, "Sure. Why"? I respond with a very classy and stylish, "Well I think you'd look awesome with the whip cream and the cupcake all smooshed into you face and around your mouth." She stands motionless for a split second that seems like an awkward eternity where I am left thinking she's going to stuff it in mine, then she hands me the cupcake. I decide it's not perhaps my best idea of the night. Je m'excuse. I run and hide.

My next faux pas has my brother cornering me regarding the current count on the alcohol consumption. I somehow figure he is going to buy the notation that the martini I am sporting is still my first; now, a good four hours into this magical ride. We settle into the same old, same old with him insisting that I have it wrong and need to man up to reality and, ultimately change my ways when who should come wandering along but Mel and my GP. Doctor Jane. She had mentioned that she may come by to wish us well and see us off, but I thought she was kidding. Who has a doctor that performs house calls these days??!!! And right when I'm trying to 'splain to Jimbo that all is OK in the liquor consumption department. Well Jimbo sees his opportunity to press the advantage and immediately engages Dr. Jane into the fold. He begins by explaining to the Doc I seem to have a hard time counting to 10 when it comes to Martinis, cause I always get stuck at one. Well the bottom line is I ain't going to win anything in this exchange so I quickly move to the salesman's oldest tool in the shed the Bait and Switch. "So Doc, at this late point in the evening would I be best served to stick with the tried and true gin line of thinking," hinting that mixing fuels would not necessarily be a good thing, "or should I perhaps move into the realm of beer"? To my delight she doesn't suggest the "stop and desist everything" option which, in my heart, was where I thought this altercation was heading. Nope. Instead, she replies with "Beer would be better, but tonight is a celebration and you can drink anything you'd like"!!!!!!! Ha! Take that, Jimbo! I down the remaining martini, give my Doc a big hug and, taking her advice, blast off to tackle a keg of Creemore.

I am found moments later trying to figure out how to get the keg hose to surrender when it turns out that I forgot to prime the pump. This becomes clear when my daughter once again comes a' running and, in no time, hand me the most delectable cup o' the godly nectar with a beautiful foamy cap all set for the quaff. Seems Dev knows something about keggers, too. Dad's learning a thing or two about his young lady tonight.

The Wedding Day - Part Six

Mr. Cal Schaub (courtesy of the Ontario college of art and design) at our request and with a little pushing to encourage, arrives with a small sampling of his portfolio and sets up a mini gallery in our family room for everyones viewing pleasure. Mel and I were fortunate enough to attend a private exhibition, put on by Cal recently in downtown Toronto. Cal is an up-and-coming artist utilizing multiple media to create unique abstract paintings in acrylic and oil, to name just a few. Some of Cal's work can be seen by accessing his website which shall be provided shortly

Jim Armstrong, Mel's cousin, heads to the back yard and ignites our outdoor, portable fire pit. He knows all about it cause he and his son Craig split two cords of wood for us late last summer in anticipation. A crowd soon gathers. And with some seated in the Muskoka chairs and others milling about, the camp fire is enjoyed by many for the remainder of the party.

The windows of the living room overlooking the fire are cranked wide open and in addition to those seated up stairs, everyone fireside is able to enjoy Mr. Matt Wilhelm, tenor extraordinaire (courtesy of Wilfred Laurier's School of Opera) at the electric piano. He is followed by Mr. Jason James (courtesy of Wilfred Laurier's School of Music) also on piano. Then, a gal so dear to Mel and me, the most lovely and talented Miss Amy Carson Hunter (courtesy of YouTube and a bucket load of charisma and talent) --- with a little coaxing from me and the personal delivery of my Larrivee six-string guitar --- preforms a set of her own original material to the delight of all. You can hear more of Miss Hunter on YouTube or Myspace accessed here:

http://www.youtube.com/user/ahunterr or,

http://www.myspace.com/amycarsonhunter

She is awesome. Check her out if you didn't have a chance, live, up front and personal.

At 9 o'clock, as previously billed, the headline act takes the stage downstairs in Sanglier Studios. Awesome! The boys are rockin' in no time and the room is filled with dancers, standing-room only. Their repertoire includes Blink 182 and a pile of other current R&R and Blues and they execute oh so well. Mr. Bowes is performing his vocal acrobatics and the crowd is totally enthralled.

David Wharry, blues harp wizard extraordinaire, steps up and requests a spotlight at a microphone from Will and Will graciously steps aside. Dave queries Ryan, "Stormy Monday?" Ry turns to Andrew. Stormy Monday in 'A'. And away they go, just as I happen to walk in the door. I have had the pleasure of hearing Dave many times, often while backing him on guitar and sometimes from his recordings. But never have I heard him handling both the vocals and the harp with such enthusiasm while backed by a fabulously capable band. Dave delivers up a scathing rendition. Intense, high-octane lyrics and waling harp solos. The man stuns the crowd.

Melanie is ushered into the studio. Bro Jim, the band and I play, "Shave yo' Legs" by Keb mo' to the bride. I am told later she could be seen with tears in her beautiful eyes.
Carol Comley arrives at the studio door and sizing up the situation, which was essentially a pile of young folks dancing, she slowly crouches to the floor and executes her signature Crab Walk to enter the dance floor. She morphs to her other well known to some, Dance of the Seven Veils and the crowd goes wild. All the young ladies surround and Will Bowes bursts through, gliding up behind her and settles into spooning, from the rear, mirroring her every move. The music continues to pound out. The serpent gyrates as one and the revelers are mesmerized. The song ends and the group dissipates back to the confines of the room, breathless. Will approaches Miss Mel. "Who was that vision," he asks. Mel replies, "That's Carol. She's over 50"! Will thinks for a moment and quietly, more to himself than anyone, mutters "I could do that". That's our girl.

The Wedding Day - Part Five

Let me take a moment to properly introduce you to one of the best chefs there ever was. Not just a cook. (and just for the record I'm no chef. I am more of a cook) One of the distinctions between the two being, perhaps, that a cook is often synonymous with quantity of food or numbers fed, as in an Army mess cook, for example. While a chef might be thought of more in the context of smaller, delectable morsels, for individual plating. Well this boy is all of both. I, too, have a penchant for large-volume cooking and, as such, see myself more in tune with the 'cook' monicker. I have always felt that my high-volume cooking lacks the subtle, je ne sais quoi, that defines the exquisite taste mastered by a true chef. And so, when cooking for over 100 this day, I so appreciate all he can do. Sir Peter Chase, of the Chase Restaurant in Etobicoke. My neighbor. My pal. Absolutely brilliant! He delivers, later in the evening, dinner for 120, hot and delicious. And very expeditiously, all within the confines of our rather ill-equipped and limited kitchen and dining room. One of the highlights is without a doubt seven --- barbecued to perfection --- beef tenderloins that do not require a knife to cut as they are so scrumptiously tender. All served up with your choice of home-made seven-grain mustard or horseradish sauce on the freshest buns I've seen since I last glimpsed Mel's.

Peter is so capable at large-volume catering. I know cause he asked me to assist him once with a commercial function for over 250 and I witnessed it first-hand. Peter can be contacted by email here: www.thechaserestaurant@cogeco.ca if you have an interest. OK. Enough of the commercial interlude. And now we return you to our regular programming.

Ryan arrives with the final remnants of Astroid M. The Sanglier Studios (my basement) House Band consisting of Andrew Dawson (courtesy of Humber School of Music) on lead and rhythm guitars, Nic Armour (courtesy of the God of Moderation and Common Sense allowing Nic a slim moment in time to keep his shit together long enough to join us) on drums and percussion. What else can you say? He's a drummer!! Ryan Peters (courtesy of Wilfred Laurier's School of Music) on bass, backing harmonies and musical direction. Our well-placed dollars, hard at work. And last, but in no way least, the magical master of crowd capture, and rapture and swooning young ladies, Mr. Will Bowes (courtesy of trains, buses and taxi cabs) on lead vocals and clownery.

The boys haven't played together for two years now, after having spent four years together at the Etobicoke School of the Arts. They arrive at 4 p.m. to have a wee rehearsal prior to show time at 9. it is an undeniable truth, evident from the opening volley, these boys haven't forgotten a thing and certainly do not require any stinkin' rehearsal. It's not appropriate to call it practice so let's just say the band entertains the set-up clientele from 4 until 6. Dev tells me it was great.

Petey, the caterer, arrives at 6 and begins schlepping the initial food from his place across the street and three doors down, where everything has been, or still is being, prepared. Chafing dishes have been set up to handle his butter chicken, 200 meat and veggie Samosas, home-made, old country, all vegetable, ratatouille and accompanying basmati rice. All this arrives and is set in place along with the crusty buns and the sides of mustard and horseradish sauces.

Oh, and did I mention tray after tray of cold canapés, to be served as the guests arrive beginning at 7. And arrive they did after Mel and I did at 6:45. Devon, Amanda Malashevski, Lisa and sis-in-law Denise begin serving the shrimp, oyster, smoked salmon, cucumber and avocado canapés to the crowd at 7. Notable mention must be made to include warm appreciation to both Steve and Kevin who assist Peter with the progression of the food from door to door. And when Peter is advised by his wife of an urgent situation requiring his attention else where, in the middle of the service I might add, Steve steps up to man the knife at the carving table without so much as an interruption in the flow of the receiving line.

Shelly arrives with two rather ominously large presents all wrapped and bowed. Mel and Jeff are ushered into the living room and presented with the gifts. We open them simultaneously and are delighted to find a montage of beautifully framed pictures taken earlier in the day. All in black and white and matted and capturing so perfectly the gentle moments between the to of us during our service. Soooooooo thoughtful. Shelly opens the glass of the frames and, over the course of the evening the matts of the pictures are signed by all in attendance. Wow! How good is that?

The Wedding Day - Part Four

Lisa Visser stands and delivers an excerpt from a Martin Luther King speech (which will be added as soon as accessed) entitled, "The Strength To Love." Ryan and Emma follow with Ryan on guitar and they both perform, "Lucky," by Jason Mraz in beautiful harmony.
Devon, the second most beautiful lady in attendance that day, attempts the reading of the lyrics for "Our House" (also to be added). Very appropriate for us from a family point of view. Which becomes quite evident as Devon delivers and is a tad overwhelmed by the significance of the words as she speaks to the heart of all we have been through, conquered, and are now moving on from, on this Day of New Beginnings.

Marni, in due course, pronounces us partners for life once again and, once again, I am permitted to kiss my most beautiful girl. Executed flawlessly. We have pictures to prove it!

We all retire to the dining room to the fabulous spread of sandwiches, fruit, cheese, crackers, pickles, six magnums of champagne and Devon's delicious lemon butter creme cake and accompanying 120 cupcakes all set on a four-tiered, cupcake tree.

Mel and I enjoy the final hour in conversation with our guests as Lisa, Denise and Mom run the clean up. I sit with Auntie 'M' and describe to her in detail the magical progression of my enlightenment through counseling, to my ultimate Quantum of Solace in the idea that my father (her brother) played a part in my "resurrection" 18 months ago. I also went on to share with her the surreal experience that Mel had with the psychic a month ago, where she, never having met Mel or spoken to her previously, envisioned that same event and relayed it to her. Very spooky. My auntie and I both acknowledged that pops was here with us all this day.

As 3 o'clock arrived, and as previously agreed, Miss Mel and I said our goodbyes, invited all back for the celebration that evening and we cut out to drain the doggies, followed by nap time at Lisa's. I manage a wee shut-eye, until three dogs start jumping all over me as I lay on the couch. Mel is busy updating the email and her Facebook status and decides, "She no need no stinkin' nap." She's busy firing on adrenaline.

Meanwhile, back at the ranch, the clean-up/reset crew is going full tilt. Chairs are removed, furniture returned. The wine stations are set up. One downstairs at the bar. One up stairs in the laundry kiosk that has been converted to a bar top by our diversely talented event coordinator, Lisa. Sixty-four liters of red and white. Will it be enough? The beer kegs are unveiled, primed and pumped and the caterer arrives.

The Wedding Day - Part Three

I don't have Melanie's words to share with all those who were there at heart and in spirit but as soon as I do, I will post. I do have mine available and I add and quote directly, as follows:

"Before jumping right into my vows today, uncharacteristically, there is something I'd like to say. And 'cause this is our day and I have the floor, I'm allowed to do what I want. I will try and keep it brief but I need to set the stage.

Not that this needs to be said, 'cause you all know me too well but this is likely going to take about a half hour 'cause there's a pretty good chance I'm not going to get through this very easily. So if I collapse and anyone needs to use the facilities or go for a smoke, feel free as I try to compose myself.

Not long ago, I wrote Melanie a letter. Trying to put my feelings for her into words. I would like to read a quote from that letter to her at this time. Just 'cause I want to and I can.

And I quote:

'If there is one thing that has come to me from all we've endured, it is my belief that you and I are closer than we ever have been as a result. I can never properly thank you for your being there for me when I needed you most. And, at a time when you were dealing with the knowledge of your most frightening struggle ahead, you thought of me. And in return, as I was relegated to the house, the good news was I could be here for you. To hug you, to hold you, and to provide you some sense of comfort when you needed me most. The most amazing realization for me though all you endure, is that while you have your moments, you never have been down and out for long. The reason? You are a very tough gal with incredible inner strength. Your depth of character overwhelms me. I so admire all that I know in my heart, you have always been, but it took events such as these for me to open my eyes and really appreciate the enormity. Melanie, my girl friend, my only love, my life partner, my soul mate, my wife. You are not only all these things, for now and forever, please know you are also my daily inspiration, my reason for everything, my hero.

Please know that 2012 will be the best year we have ever had together, 'cause of simply that. We will be together.'

"And now, in this context, and by witness of all I hold dear in this life, I offer my renewed vow to you on this day of new beginnings. And I think you know me well enough by now, the promise I make to you this day is steadfast and unwavering, as an oath made and kept is absolutely the measure of a person's character, to the core of their soul.

To my hero, my love, my best friend, my reason for everything, I say to you, you make it so easy for me to be the man I have always dreamed I could be. I love you more than words could ever say. I will always be there for you to hold your hand, to walk with you, to give a hug when you need it most, to love you and cherish you, to never take all we have for granted, and above all, to shut up and listen, and, hopefully, without your having to ask. For today, for tomorrow and for all the precious moments we are so lucky to share together to the end of our days. Promise. Cross my heart. Pinky swear."

The Wedding Day - Part Two

Lisa arrives next with an exquisite tan, petite hand-luggage case with stickers of Rome, Florence, Paris, etc., all over it. This is placed by the front door on the half wall to accept cards from well wishers over the course of the day.

The bride dons her gorgeous, cream lace, strapped dress and the groom decides to go with the Mexican formal collarless shirt that step-mom Irene gave me as a Christmas gift 15 years earlier. On your marks. Get set ... .

The guests begin arriving at 1 p.m. sharp. The first in the door is none other than Irene, sister Lynne, bro Gar and Lydia and young lady Alexa. We haven't seen Lynne in years as she and Irene are just in from Guadalajara, Mexico. And Aunties Joyce and Marilyn both attend as well, arriving next with cousins John, Ann and Dave.

Barb Reid is on the mark as the official photographer lending her acute eye to all that unfolds. And Denise has set up the video camera, on tripod in the living room to capture the ceremony. Fifty guests are seated with Matt Wilhelm at the ready at the keyboard. The stage is set. Devon and I enter the living room and she and I walk down the isle together. Mel takes Ryan's arm and he escorts her to me and our Madam of Ceremonies, Marni Nancekivell. Ry and Devo flank Marni with Mel and I facing.

The formal part of the afternoon is executed with our High Priestess flawlessly directing the service. Notable mentions include Miss Emma Mansell singing, "What Are You Doing For The Rest Of Your Life," with Mr. Matt Wilhelm (more on this phenomenon a little later) backing on piano. Originally performed by 'ol Blue Eyes, Frank Sinatra. Emma does it better. Vow time has Mel delivering her promise to me and I follow with mine. Both are read 'cause I don't think it would have been possible any other way. I really want to hold Mel's hands as I go but I have the piece of paper to contend with as well. So, thinking ahead, I had put a scrape of folded Scotch tape on the mantle piece. Reaching over I grab the tape and a fixing it to my paper, I stick the paper to Mel's forehead. "There. That works." UUhhhhh, maybe not.

Mine was so very difficult to get through and in no time I am in need of much more air than seems available. I start a-huffin' and a-puffin' trying to keep from complete system collapse. I think, after all was said and done, I did OK. It was full of stop and go, scatter and gather and scatter once again. But I was able to compose myself more often than I disassembled. And, in the end, I had said what I so wanted to say. In the middle of a particularly tough spot, I turned to Gar and I acknowledged the most excellent job he did recently under similar circumstance and with similar results when he delivered the eulogy at his father's service.

The Wedding Day - Part One

Well what to say about all that? The day of our lives, we think. Absolutely magical from start to finish. I believe that may even have surpassed the original, 25 years ago. The first time around, as much as you are driven by the excitement and the magnitude of the decisions you make, there is some honest apprehension when diving into the unknown for the rest of your life. Today was all about knowing absolutely to your core, what you want for the remainder of days. And that, for me, is all about more time with Miss Mel, the kids, family and friends. And today we celebrated all of that.

The day began at 8 a.m., when I was punted out the door by the Task Master Devo to get to downtown Oakville to the age-old "Victor's," the Portuguese barber, for my first-ever old-school shave and a haircut --- NOT, I might add, to be had at an old-school price of two bits. The steamy hot towel on the bearded face. The straight edge razor. The number two shear. And voila! Ready for my honey.

Upon completion, I hoofed it the length of Kerr Street to Lisa and Shelly's, stopping on the way to acquire one dozen Portuguese lemon custard tarts (the best in Oakville) and a double shot of espresso, 'cause I think I'm going to need it. Lisa and the girls are there to greet me. I offer up the Lemano's and ask for the use of a car to allow Mel and I some flexibility with the last minute running around. Ryan will have our car some of today to gather musicians and equipment for tonight. The second vehicle will come in handy. Hugs to our event coordinator and I'm off to the ice man.

Twenty four bags of ice and three blocks loaded to the back seat later, and I am in the driveway feeding the three beer keg bins with one block and eight bags cubed, each. Smothering them from top to bottom with icy goodness. The kegs are smiling up at me all happy, happy, happy as I bid them adieu, for now. "Get to work"!

The house is a bustle of last-minute preparation. In the early stages we find Mel and Emma working their way from room to room with Mel explaining the need and Emma jottin' down notes. They break and Em flies into gear drawing upon Ry and Dev to knock items from the list.

Mel begins distributing potted pansies to the exterior gardens and the porches, followed by tulips to every room in the interior. The fireplace mantle in the "chapel" is loaded. The seating for forty is set in place.

Enter Mom with the Church Lady sandwiches. Yum. She begins by setting the platters for the same followed by the pickle and olive and the cheese and fruit trays. Of course, with all the efficiency, she's done all that in no time and is looking for more. Somehow I decide that the job of cleaning the oven that I was supposed to get to three weeks ago was next on the list. And Super Mom, in her beautiful wedding attire, dons a wee apron, jumps right in, and gits 'er done. Mel arrives on the scene and questions just what I was thinking. Who ever said I was thinking?