I'd love to tell you all about the non-stop action of day 3, but really, days at sea are wonderful precisely for their glorious lack of activity. For those of us who hail from major metropolitan areas, how many opportunities do you have to read an entire issue of Vanity Fair end-to-end? (did I really write that? I said ESPN The Magazine, yeah that's it..*grunt grunt*...excuse me while I go blow something up). Days at sea help one to discover the Joys of Irresponsibility; on any other day, “doing nothing” reminds you of your unemployed cousin Larry.
But back to the day at hand: we have no plans in the morning, so I sleep in until about 9, and hit the gym (again, have to maintain that girlish figure).
So circa 9am, I roll (quite literally) out of bed, careful not to disturb the sleeping lioness, lest I lose a lime, or worse. Dress quietly, and head over to the Promised Land. 30 hard minutes on the elliptical, and a circuit of chest-arms-abs, and I've likely sweat off the crème brule from last night...likely. Again, I can't compliment DCL enough for expanding the workout area; watching the water fly past while on the machines really is a treat, and all the better to help your workout.
The rest of the day was spent in uneventful bliss. I can't even remember where we had lunch; want to say it was Topsiders. That reminds me, a word about this buffet: Big ups to Disney for the “Kids” and “Adults” lines at breakfast and lunch. It cuts both ways: I don't want to listen to your knee-high screaming about fish sticks, and he sure as heck doesn't want any prime rib with horseradish. Small things like this keep me happy. Now get out of the way, they just brought more sushi.
The afternoon was spent in the adult pool area, where She-Who-Must-Be-Obeyed and I shared one of the two-person lounge chairs (another incredible invention), and a few drinks-of-the-day...something red with fruit in it, that I wouldn't be caught dead drinking on any other occasion. I was able to catch up on the aforementioned reading, and we stayed out of the sun in anticipation of the next two days of snorkeling. Our long serenity was only interrupted once, when the staff decided it'd be a good idea to break the tranquility with a “jump in the pool and be ridiculous while wrestling an inflatable alligator to win cheap trinkets” contest. I was not amused. Fortunately for my sanity and the well-being of the participants, it was time to change for our early-seating dinner.
Dinner was at Lumiere's. Let me digress to say that I like Lumiere's more than Triton's, for reasons I can't describe; it just “feels” like a classier place, and the food is always good. I don't remember what I had this night...probably lamb.
Twice Charmed Review
The show this evening was Twice Charmed, a second look at the Cinderella story. Again, I hold most of my DCL entertainment to the standard of the Hercules show on the 4-night, so the bar is high. That being said, I found this one to be pretty good. Better than Golden Mickeys, but not on the scale of the aforementioned show.
I'm a bit of a sucker for true Broadway-esque performances, and this one had some good numbers. I was especially a fan of Franco the evil fairy godfather. Clever. Not exactly George-Burns-in-Oh-God, but good enough for me.
Late Night Show: Jimmy Tamley
Ok, so back to the room to change for the late show, and She-Who-Must-Be-Obeyed was too tired. Wuss. I show up, and of course, NTWINE is the opening act. There isn't enough Bombay Sapphire in the world...well, maybe there is. College wasn't that long ago, if “Drink till she's pretty” worked then, maybe “drink till they don't suck” will now. Nope, now I'm just buzzing in front of my aunts and uncles, AND having to listen to this crap. Oh well. After too many 80s songs from NTWINE, and not nearly enough drinks-of-the-day to compensate, it was time for the main event.
Tamley was great; he reintroduced to his “granddad,” an irreverent dirty old man, who spent more time talking about his misadventures in pursuit of young ladies, than imparting any sage knowledge. Don't get me wrong, the routine was hilarious, but it's just a little hard to listen to jokes about him chasing skirts all week in front of your grandparents. That's a bit of mutually-assured destruction: They don't want to ruin their mental image of you as the goody-two-shoes grandchild, and you sure as hell don't want to envision a world in which they would “get” poop, fart, and sex jokes. Just smile, laugh, and bring me another Amaretto Sour.
Beyond that, though, I give the performer a good deal of credit; he had great recovery on several occasions when the puppets broke, most notably his closing bit, with a British boxer. Halfway through, the string supporting his arm opposite the performer broke. Tamley didn't miss a beat, with the puppet mocking him all the way. I wouldn't want to spoil it (code for: It was a month ago and I don't remember), but the recovery was priceless.
On the way out, we hit the midnight buffet again, and I picked up a few munchies for the sleeping bear back in the room. Since this was a day of light activity, I actually stay up for a while, watching some of the channels (the bow camera channel at night is the best; I hear it has twice the ratings as According to Jim...)
Tomorrow is a big day of Rhino Riding, and our first snorkeling adventure, so it's lights out soon enough. Gnight!
Next up: Day 4 (St. Maarten)
