I’ve got a song stuck in my head. Going round and round and round. Last time this happened, it was the Star Wars theme (just mentioning it brings me out in a sweat). But this one is even worse.
To set the scene for you: last November, Fam. Fibro went on a South Pacific cruise with 36 of our closest friends. You read right. Forty of us. On a floating palace of pleasure in the south seas. Blue skies, blue seas, cocktails with pink umbrellas.
I’m not sure where you sit on the whole cruise debate. You’re either into them, or you’re not. I’m not. I wasn’t before I went and I’m definitely not now. Which is not to say that I didn’t have a good time. I did. We were with great friends, we sang karaoke, played bingo, ate too much, drank too much and told the same stories over and over. Good times.
I’d just never do it again.
Something about arriving at a deserted island with 2000 people with matching towels just didn’t work for me. Or perhaps it was just chasing Mr3 (then two and not – I repeat not – old enough to go to Kids Club on his own) around and around the unfenced pool. Or the fact that the boat got smaller and smaller and smaller as the days drifted by…
Tick that Cruise off life’s To Do list and move along.
(Are you now beginning to wonder what my song is? “Theme from the Love Boat’ perhaps? I wish.)
Every group of friends has a recorder (by that, I do not mean a woodwind instrument learned in second grade). The guy with the camera. Our guy, M, is fantastic. He not only captures every unforgettable (and some you’d rather forget) moment, but he takes them home, edits them and sends every family a DVD copy. I love it. They are funny, touching and will be an invaluable jog to my memory when I forget all about our cruise (next week, probably).
Unfortunately, M is a one-track soundtrack kind of guy. Every single DVD he’s ever made for us features, for example, Summer of 69. Every one. Despite the fact that the main players in our action flicks were either born in 1968 or somewhere south of 1999.
The cruise DVD arrived in the mail on Tuesday. Fam. Fibro watched it together, reliving every moment (and some we’d forgotten – see, it happens so soon), and survived the inevitable onslaught of begging from the boys to go on another ‘big boat’ soon. (Did I mention they loved it? Loved it.)
Along with the inevitable Bryan Adams track, this DVD featured a selection of sailing-related tunes: Sailing by Rod Stewart and, um, others. I’ve forgotten because every single one of the music receptor thingies in my brain has been engaged in replaying Cruisin’ over and over again.
Yes, Cruisin’. That smash hit by Gwyneth Paltrow (pre-haircut) and Huey Lewis. “This is not a one-night stand… We’re goin’ to fly away, glad you’re goin’ my way, I love it when we’re cruisin’ together…” You with me?
Why am I sharing this? I’m working on the theory that if I tell enough people about it, the song will magically transfer itself from my brain to yours. So right about now, you should be humming along with me.
Sorry about that.
It could be worse. It could be Summer of 69. Oh, wait…