The Intro

 I don't work on cruise ships anymore. I used to, for 17 years. 17 years! Think about it. It's long enough to see your child finish high school and prepare for college. Its longer than most careers, and almost certainly than most marriages. Though I never really thought of it as a career. It was a job, certainly, and something I loved to do, no doubt, but I never really thought of it as a career. It was a stepping stone, an interim step, something to do on my way to fame and fortune, but it was also a way to pay the bills and see the world, and do what I loved to do, which is sing.

Yes, I was a singer.

If you tell people you are a cruise ship singer their mind automatically goes to a schlocky singer in a bad sequined gown in a cocktail lounge, or a greasy pompadoured git asking, 'Hey, how's your steak' in the middle of a cheesy Frank Sinatra rendition of My Way. And I can't blame them really, because there is still a lot of that out there. But, I was neither a lounge singe nor did I have a pompadour. I sang in the theatre, on the stage, in THE BIG ROOM, as we called it and, in ship circles, it's pretty important stuff.

That's not to say that I did not do my fair share of cheesy renditions or wear gaudy and hideous costumes, I certainly did. And, in 17 years I sang every stupid song ever known to man, or at least 16 bars of it. I have worn spandex, g-strings, feathers, sequins, lace, and velvet, and have danced with huge showgirl packs on my back and bowls of fruit on my head. I have played to crowds of thousands, and houses of only 4, and I have sung in calm, quiet waters, and in rough, banging hurricanes. In those 17 years I did it all.

But now that is all over, and I have only my memories left to share.