Never Let a Drunken Sailor Ride the Cheese Trolley

It’s about 1pm and I’m sitting at a bar onboard the ship watching the one other guy who’s in here with me plastered, just blitzed out of his mind, rambling ridiculous conversation with the foreign bartender, attempting to sound normal. He’s probably in his fifties and is sporting a purple polo, black & white checkered shorts with slimy mug shot hair. What drives a guy to get sloshed at a bar by himself at 1 in the afternoon? I imagine him and his wife planning this cruise months ago, drifting apart but not wanting to cancel the cruise because one or the other thought it be good for the marriage. Non is the case and now he’s on a cruiseship with a person that he hates or that hates him, and neither is humbled enough to fix it up. Maybe he’s just a lush. That said, alcohol is really easy on tour. Dad has warned me over and over, almost to a fault, but may it be noted that his message sits heavy. He rarely stands up strong to teach me, but his lesson on this one is clear as vodka. I’m no fool. There are some things that I have to figure out on my own. May this not be one of them. With that said…cupholder:

I had my first performance last night in a venue called the Cove while in Panama. It was about a 20 minute pre-dinner show and we killed it. I must admit, I was nervous going into it. We were well rehearsed, but you have to realize the audience as a more finely tuned and judgemental group than most. Ultimately, they're paying for what I'm about to give them. I suppose that's how it always is in a show situation, but this one felt as new as the first time I came back from Manhattan to begin my career as a solo singer/songwriter. Despite, the audience loved it and we were swarmed. It’s difficult talking to a lot of people about yourself all within a short amount of time. During this journey, I hope to have developed small talk into an art. I always feel accomplished when I can find a way to turn the conversation back onto them. I live with me. I’m kind of bored with hearing about me. Tell me about yourself. Where are you from? How did you get so much freakin’ money? Do you prefer a delicious chocolately desert or rather a selection from the cheese trolley?

It cannot be avoided. There clearly must be a cheese trolley song by the end of this tour.


I led a tour in Cartegena, Columbia yesterday morning. Street panhandlers are relentless. I got in a bilingual fight with a guy trying to get on our bus to sell a tablecloth or something. Really, I let him yell at me until he was through. Then I didn't know what to do so I started talking to him about coffee beans and he went away. Cartegena is where all the gold left South America for Spain in the 1500's. Here are some pics:

Cartegena, Columbia:

Inside a hallway at the massive fortress:

Notice the sign:

The Old City:

Cartegena traffic jam:

Last night we caught the National Championship on the big screen in the theatre, except it was streaming satellite, so the picture and audio would sometimes get stuck and sound like some kind of alien communication for about 2 minutes.  Too many hotdogs were eaten.  Go SEC!