From 1979: It's All The Rage

In the summer of 1979, my next-door neighbor and best childhood friend, Suzanne, went to London with her family for several weeks.

This was no small feat for 1970s suburban Indiana.  Their trip even made the local newspaper.

When Suzanne returned, she had a treasure trove of records she bought in the Picadilly Circus shops.  Such an education for fascinated me.  I was all of eight years old, but I listened to those records constantly with Suzanne.  "Angeleyes/Voulez Vous," by ABBA.  "Gangsters," by The Specials.  "Born To Be Alive," by Patrick Hernandez.  All of the singles had those peculiar small holes in the middle; no need for the ubiquitous spindle adapters that usually littered the console on Suzanne's stereo.

My favorite record was the triumphant smash hit, "I Don't Like Mondays," by The Boomtown Rats.  Featuring soaring piano and clever, biting lyrics, lead singer Bob Geldof wrote the song in response to the Brenda Ann Spencer massacre in January 1979.  "The silicone chip inside her head gets switched to overload," remains, in my opinion, one of the most brilliant opening lines of a song to date.

Everyone knows and loves that song, right?  It deserves the adulation.  But have you ever heard the B-side?  It deserves adulation, too, as a rip-roaring punk rocker right out of Dingwalls, featuring a double-tracked vocal by Geldof and relentless guitar work by Garry Cott.  The infectious ending is particularly effective.

It's all the rage...you're putting me on.

What I Will Be Watching Instead Of The Superbowl

"Ken, I want to go back to Vietnam," I said.
"What," he answered, "right now?"



The Lover (French: L'Amant) is a 1992 drama film produced by Claude Berri and directed by Jean-Jacques Annaud.

Based on the semi-autobiographical 1984 novel by Marguerite Duras, the film details the illicit affair between a teenage French girl and a wealthy Chinese man in 1929 Vietnam.

The Lover is a passionate, deeply sensual and tender love story with very generous lashings of magnificent smut.

It stars Jane March as The Young Girl, and Tony Leung as The Chinese Man.

It also features a breathtakingly beautiful soundtrack by Gabriel Yared.

Mokulele

My guess is that this is from the early 1950s. The plane looks like a Boeing 707.

From 1978: Obviously "Garish Colors" Are What Make Sheraton A Showplace

People

April 24, 1978

Hmmm, I Don't Know. It's Never Been A Practice Of Mine To Trust An Owl Wearing A Tam O' Shanter.

TWA always had very artistic, intricate travel posters.

My guess is that this one is from the mid 1950's.

Here is a wonderful website with tons of information about the aviation giant, told from the flight attendants' point of view. Tons of pictures and information.

Sadly, when American Airlines acquired Trans World in 2001, all of the TWA flight attendants were fired, regardless of their tenure. This was the exact opposite of what American Airlines management had promised to do. "Doing what they do best," I guess.

Glamourous 1950's Poster For Las Vegas, Via TWA

I love vintage travel posters.

I'm guessing that this one is from the Fifties,

as the plane pictured is a Constellation.

Woke Up On A Groovy Tuesday

We're home. More later.

Edited to add: It's 5:55am. Jet lag is a real trip. When it's jet lag coupled with some sort of strange Asian flu (are any of you really that surprised that I am sick?), well, let's just say that you begin to hallucinate that the cup of tea you made for yourself in the hopes of quelling your sour stomach is actually named Ralph and he has a wife and kids in Hoboken.

The cats are really showing their Siamese side, demanding constant attention. Manni Moe unfortunately had inappropriate bathroom habits during our sojourn, according to our house sitter. We don't get angry with him about it. That's just who he is.

First Class is the only way to handle long trips abroad. I don't know how I would have made this trip otherwise. All told, from Singapore to Phoenix was over 24 hours of nonstop travel and transit. We were in First Class for 90% of the trip, and it still was just miserable.

The Northwest Airlines lounge in Minneapolis serves a wonderful chicken noodle soup...a real saving grace for me, believe me.

All in all, it is great to be home. Now if only I could get some sleep. I might just stay awake until Jamba Juice opens. I am jonesing for a Coldbuster like a junkie craves smack.

Oh, and one more thing: our view of Singapore from our hotel room window was amazing.

Singapore

We arrived in Singapore at 3:00am this morning. Without a trace of regret, we departed the Rhapsody of the Seas at 6:00am and arrived at the Pan Pacific Hotel.

I have never before known the meaning of the word "sumptuous," but the Pan Pacific has taught me what it means. It is so fancy and elegant, yet so friendly and homey, it is almost a staggering assault on your cruise-wearied senses.

Pan Pacific had our suite ready and waiting for us, and we collapsed in a warm bed with a damned fine mattress. After about a three-hour nap, which totally refreshed us, we went out for lunch. We dined at a restaurant called HotPot Culture. Family-founded and run by the charming son of the family, we were introduced to some real Singapore cuisine. Some of it we really liked, some of it we didn't. Doesn't matter, actually. It was a grand experience.

The shopping in Singapore is legendary, and now I see why. The mall that we have seen (it is adjacent to Pan Pacific) is a curious and alluring mix of Asian style and English sensibilities. That is to say, everyone speaks English here. All of the signs are in English. Yet much of the merchandise is straight from the Retail Heaven that is Japan.

I've tried to limit my shopping, as we are already stuffed to the gills in our suitcases, but I must admit that I dropped a bundle today. Not necessarily on myself, either. Cities like Singapore make it awfully fun to be an Aunt Laura. I must admit that I focused entirely on my little niece, Josie. Sure, I am bringing a treat home for nephew Anthony, too, but he can be kind of funny about things like clothes. As in, he refuses to wear them sometimes.

Josie, on the other hand...she's at such a fun age to shop for. I bought her some charms for her Crocs, and I hit a 70% Off sale at United Colours of Benetton. So now she has a new Benetton logo sweater, camel-colored with navy letters, just like we girls wore back in the day in the 80s (how retro!), and a grey top with bright pink shiny writing that will look great with jeans.

I'm a bit under the weather. I seem to have caught a cold, and have the kind of nagging and vicious cough that has everyone viewing me as Typhoid Mary. The wonderous staff at Pan Pacific have kept me well supplied with tea and lemon and honey, but it doesn't seem to help much. It seems to me that I always get this terrible cough when I am in Asia.

The Internet is readily available here at Pan Pacific, unlike that shithole of a ship upon which we sailed (a scathing review is to follow, upon my return to the States). To be honest, in retrospect, I wish that we had more time in Singapore, and had spent less time in Viet Nam (more on that, too). This time tomorrow, we will be packed up and planning our journey to the airport, and that just simply isn't enough time.

I'm Tired And Longing For Home

It's our last night on this ship, and Ken is at dinner with the companions with whom he has become so chummy; I just spent an hour with Lily Bart and Laurence Selden and a gaggle of Noisy Slavics Of Undetermined Origin who felt it necessary to commemorate our last evening as fellow travelers by shouting as loud as humanly possible. When I had arrived in the lounge and located my little nook, it was one of the few places on the boat that was quiet. Removed from the constant Too Much. I've officially had too much of the Too Much. I just wanted to read and be by myself and more importantly, Away From Others...a state of being that is in short supply on a cruise.

But no, they came into the lounge and made merry, so I left. It has just confirmed to me that I am ready to return home, home to my cats and my couch and my fuzzy green blanket and my mailbox and my car. Home, where my thoughts can be quiet along with my surroundings. Home, where I can make miso soup with scallions and tofu and eat bowls of it all day long, at my leisure.

We depart the ship tomorrow morning at 6:00am. No reason given for the ungodliness of the hour. We packed up our things this afternoon. After departing the boat, we are spending two days in Singapore. I am looking forward to it, and I am sure that being away from all of this Too Much on this ship will give me fresh resolve and the enthusiasm that I usually hold for travel.

Still, I will not be volunteering my seat for any of our flights home, no matter how tempting the deal may be from the airline. Two days in Singapore will be great, I am sure, but it's time to go home.

My Husband And I Went To Cambodia, And All I Got Was This Stupid Blog

Maybe I should look into making a living as a psychic.

Green, choppy waters make for a green, choppy Me. I lasted about five minutes, awaiting other passengers, on that little boat that makes the runs to and from the ship and shore. The terrible rocking of the boat, coupled with the indeterminate wait, made me quite ill.

I sent Ken on to Cambodia, though. There is no sense in him being bound to this vessel because his wife tossed her cookies. I know that he really wanted to go to Cambodia and I would never want to deny him that, especially for such a predictable reason: my grumpy stomach.

I am upset, though: to miss an entire country on the cruise just because I cannot handle the seasickness! What does give me a little bit of solace is that I am certainly not alone in my suffering. The ship is packed with people who cannot or will not brave the waves in those smaller tenders. Even this big old boat is rocking back and forth quite a bit at anchor.

Partly out of boredom, partly to take my mind off my stomach, and partly because it's the way I roll, I did manage to give myself a pedicure back in our suite. Green water, green face, sexy toenails. Essie's Ballet Slippers. Perhaps the greatest color ever created, and it's hardly a color at all.

Off to get some lemonade in the Windjammer Cafe. It's been a real saving grace for me when I am seasick.

Good Morning From Cambodia, And A "Sickened Grimace" Update

The water is incredibly green here, and very choppy! I am usually not prone to seasickness, but I am wondering about the tender ride to shore with such waves. Cambodia is a bit off in the distance; I can see the shore, beckoning to us weary cruisers, if I crane my neck a bit to the right whilst standing on our balcony.

Ken is having a very sleepy morning, so I decided to come here and be robbed and raped a bit more (the prices for Internet access are beyond outrageous...fifty-five cents per minute!). We are just going to take it easy today, have a relaxing sunny day on the beach. The weather has been wonderful, by the way. We had a large thunderstorm lash the ship last night as we made our way from Thailand to Cambodia. I awoke during it, and I admit that it was a little scary! But today brings us bright sunny skies, and wonderful warm water, and I look forward to seeing that knucklehead I married frolic in the waves. He LOVES the beach.

"Sickened Grimace" Update: we got the proofs for the photographs that were taken when I was, um, not feeling my absolute best. Three of the four were decent shots, but the fourth is really spectacular, actually. It is a beautiful picture of the two of us, if I do say so myself. Go figure.

I hope that all is well with all of you. I am starting to really miss the cats, so I guess that it is good that we are heading home soon.

Thai Me Up, Thai Me Down

I cannot say enough good things about the wonderful country of Thailand. If you have the chance to visit it, DO IT.