In 2003 Sue and I took the “Best of Italy” tour sponsored by Rick Steves. I then wrote a journal compiled from the notes that I had recorded every day. After I was satisfied with the results I assembled them into a pdf file called “How I spent my Italian vacation” that I shared with other tour members and a few other people. That document is posted here.
The programming tools: During this same period IBM discontinued support for the Net.Data product that I had used to write the software for AxN (introduced here), TSI’s online clearinghouse for insertion orders from advertisers to newspapers. Instead, IBM had agreed to offer the php environment that had been developed by Zend1. I had previously learned about php from Ken Owen (Introduced here). He had told me that I could create and run php programs on my Windows computer for free by downloading WAMP, which stands for Windows (operating system) Apache (HTTP server) MySQL (database) php (scripting language). I downloaded it to my PC, set it up, and used it to write a little problem management system for TSI that was actually used for several years.
I had already learned that in order to do programming for the Internet that accessed a database you really need to know five languages: HTML, JavaScript, Cascading Style Sheets (CSS), SQL, and a scripting language to fit all the pieces together. I had books that documented the first three. I soon discovered that books on php and MySQL were not necessary. The syntax of each was thoroughly documented online, and answers to every question that I had were easily found using google. I never had to ask anyone for help.
The first project: Sue and I had planned for another trip to Italy in 2005. This time we invited our long-time friends Tom and Patti Corcoran to accompany us on another Rick Steves tour, “Village Italy”2. I intended to take notes and assemble them into another journal. This time, however, I wanted to do it a little more professionally. I purchased a Cascio point-and-shoot digital camera, mostly using points from one of my credit cards. Since I wanted to allow others in our tour group to be able to enjoy the journal, I needed to build a website. I knew how to do that on an AS/400, but I wanted projects like this to be independent of the business, and I was not about to buy an AS/400 and try to run it from my house. I wanted someone else to manage the site for me.
I did a little research on the Internet. A company named iPower seemed to offer everything that I needed at a fairly reasonable price. Its tools seemed to be well documented, and, especially for the first few years, the technical support was excellent. My first contract with them was signed in July of 2005. I might have had a free month or two before that.
I decided to name the website Wavada.org. Wavada.com was available, but I had no intention of using the website to make money. I wanted to a place to noodle around with Internet programming (my personal computer, which at the time was a laptop) and a separate place where I could show some of the things that I had developed to the world.
I needed some tools on my PC to let me edit the text and images. I had previously downloaded TextPad, a “shareware” (free but with requests for donations) product that was better at editing text than the program that came with Windows. I purchased a copy of UltraEdit, which could be tailored for use with the color-coded and spaced text of php scripts, and Paint Shop Pro, an inexpensive program for editing image files. My plan was to do all of the development on my PC and, once everything was working, upload everything to Wavada.org using either File Transfer Protocol (FTP) or the File Manager program that iPower provided.
The first journal: My first big project used php to create one web page for each day of the 2005 trip. I created a folder named Images and inside of that folder a folder the trip (VI). Inside the trip folders were folders for each day (VI01, VI02, etc.) and one each for the full-page version of the photos3 and the page (VI00) describing the preparations and the travel day. I later wrote a php script that was included at the top of the code for each trip that. This contained all the common scripts for handling layout and navigation as well as the unique elements such as character sets for foreign words.
A separate php script for each page contained the code necessary to display the page. Most of the necessary functions were stored in a file named JournalFunctions.php. A file named JournalSetup.php contained other settings. These were all “required” on every page. Styles were stored in JournalStyle.css and JournalMenuStyle.css.
For the most part the original design worked fairly well. One difficulty that I had no way to anticipate was that the Unix version on the iPower servers was more sensitive to capitalization than the Windows version. I had to be careful with the file names assigned to images.
Twenty years later I find it astounding to report that I completed all of this within a few months. To each member of the tour group I sent an email that invited them to view the finished product on Wavada.org. Quite a few of them looked at a good portion of the journal and responded that they really liked it.
Other projects: I needed to design a home page. I knew that I wanted to have a huge wave as the background so that people would know how to pronounce the name Wavada. I found a photo of with very high density that depicted a monstrous wave better than I could have even imagined. It was on the Internet, but I don’t remember the location.
iPower offered an incredible array of free features that were associated with the website. The two that I made the heaviest use of were email and WordPress. I only needed to create three or four email accounts, but I made good use of them. I made Mike@Wavada.org my primary email account. Much later I created another account called Yoga (the name of my laptop at the time). Email sent to the Mike account was automatically downloaded to Outlook on my desktop. The Yoga account was not. So, I could send or forward emails from Mike to Yoga for activities (such as ZOOM meetings) that required the laptop.
I also set up an account for Sue, but I don’t think that she ever used it.
The other free feature that I employed a lot was WordPress, the software that I used to make this and hundreds of other blog entries. The oldest object in the WordPress section of Wavada.org is from 2010. However, I don’t think that I made much use of the product until March of 2012. That is the date of the oldest images that I uploaded. I might have written a few earlier blog entries that contained no images. An incredible number of these images—and a few other files—were uploaded during the pandemic and the subsequent months.
At first the home page for Wavada.org simply contained links to the few items that I wanted to allow the public to see. I changed the format dramatically when I discovered a widget that was available in google’s jQuery library. This allowed me to present the table of contents in an attractive tabbed manner.
I wrote a large number of programs concerning the game of bridge (introduced here) for my own use. For a while I maintained a complicated set of programs that I wrote to keep a detailed record of the bidding agreements with my partners. Eventually I decided that this was too much work (as of 2023 I had played with 141 different partners). I also created online programs for displaying an article index for topics covered in the Bridge Bulletin (posted here) and for providing game plans for challenging declarer problems (posted here).
I figured out how to parse the pdf files for hand records from bridge games. I created a database of these hands so that I could establish probabilities to associate with certain bridge situations. For example, I determined that Losing Trick Count4 was more accurate at predicting the number of available tricks at game level or lower than point count that has been modified as suggested by Marty Bergen in his Slam Bidding Made Easier book. However, the opposite was true for higher contracts.
I started to attend Wednesday evening games at the Simsbury Bridge Club in 2004. At some point I created a webpage for the club. It was still in use in 2023. The link is here.
As an adjunct to my job as webmaster I created a database of bridge players throughout North America on Wavada.org for District 25 of the American Contract Bridge League (ACBL). That story has been chronicled here.
I adapted the code for the travel journals to create online pages for each chapter of the book that I wrote on papal history entitled Stupid Pope Tricks. The book is posted here. The story of the Papacy Project that led to its creation is chronicled here. I also posted in the same format Ben 9, my historical first-person novel about Pope Benedict IX, here.
1. In 2023 this product is still offered for the i5 operating system. Zend has been purchased by other companies a few times.
3. I used the same file names that Cascio provided with the letter b at the end. For later journals I dispensed with the uploading of the smaller versions of the photos and instead uploaded a full-page version of each image and used HTML to specify the size displayed in the journal. I also changed the naming of the images in the daily folder to be meaningful.
4. Losing Trick Count is explained here and elsewhere on the Internet and in print.
The Worst Year Ever?: The virus seemed to appear in or around Wuhan, China, in late 2019. It appeared to be extremely contagious. It was given the name COVID-191 on February 11, 2020. In the past such scares (SARS and Ebola) had pretty much bypassed the West, but within two weeks Italy had become a global hotspot. China, South Korea, and New Zealand fought the disease relentlessly, and had very good results. If all other countries had done the same, the disease probably would have run its course in a few months. However, because in many cases the disease had mild or even undetectable symptoms, many people did not take it seriously and were scornful of those who did.
Editorial note: I have decided to capitalize Pandemic as a sign of respect. There have been other pandemics in my lifetime, but Covid-19 was the only one that had a significant effect on the U.S.
Cases began appearing in the U.S. in early February. The first death was reported in the state of Washington on the 29th. On March 11 the World Health Organization declared it a pandemic. Two days later the Trump administration declared a national emergency and issued a travel ban from 26 non-European countries. However, the ban only applied to people who were not U.S. citizens. Need I add that this was an election year?
On Sunday March 15 Felix Springer and I played in a STaC game at the Hartford Bridge Club. The talk that day was largely about Colorado Springs, where a woman who had played in a sectional tournament may have been a super-spreader. She competed in the Bridge Center there in six events between February 27 and March 3. She died on March 13.
I later learned that Fred Gagnon had played in the same tournament, but he never was at the same table with her. Before the Pandemic struck Fred played both in Simsbury and Hartford and frequently partnered with my wife Sue. Details about the Colorado Springs incident can be found here.
Too close for comfort.
New York and its suburbs were hit hard very early. While attending a large gathering at a synagogue in Rob and Laura Petrie’s hometown of New Rochelle, a man who had recently been abroad passed the disease on to many people, including the rabbi. At one time 108 of the state’s 173 cases were in Westchester County, which borders on Connecticut.
My notes about the bridge game at the HBC on March 15 record that despite some mistakes Felix and I won.2 I remember that one woman who played that day wore a medical mask of some sort. We already knew that the club would be closed indefinitely after the game. Felix and I were the last two to leave the Bridge Center. He was responsible for locking up after we left. At the last minute I dashed over to the shelves that contained non-bridge books and selected Magpie Murders by Anthony Horowitz3 and Fatherland by Robert Harris. Both books resided in my house for much longer than I had planned, but I did eventually return them.
Sue and I had signed up for a bridge cruise on the Danube River with the famous expert, Larry Cohen. We were scheduled to leave on March 17. That cruise never happened. The details of the story are provided here.
Trump at the CDC.
Responding to the Pandemic: Although President Trump had declared a state of emergency, he, like most Republicans, absolutely refused to take the disease seriously. He made it clear that masks were not mandatory, and he refused to wear one. He then proceeded to make an utter ass of himself whenever he tried to talk about the Pandemic. He even predicted an “Easter miracle” that absolutely did not happen. Despite the fact that it was obviously an irresponsible if not evil idea, he actually encouraged everyone to go to church on that day.
Not only did this laissez-faire approach probably cost him the election; it also cost the country several hundred thousand lives. The Center for Disease Control also fumbled the ball. For some reason they refused to accept the test that had been developed by the World Health Organization, and their own test proved unreliable. So, for months as the virus spread geometrically throughout the country, the U.S. had no test. Soon the situation was much worse in America than anywhere else in the world.
To be fair Trump did direct more than a billion dollars to a virtually unknown company named BioNTech to develop a vaccine using mRNA technology. Others also were funded, but BioNTech received the biggest prize because its leaders claimed that with proper funding they could produce a new vaccine in a few months. Their effort was dubbed Project Lightspeed. Obviously Trump hoped that they would deliver by election day, but they missed by a few weeks. In fact, Pfizer, which did not participate, developed and tested a similar vaccine a little sooner, and the Chinese were already using a somewhat inferior vaccine by then.
Although most people who contracted the initial virus recovered after a week or so, the aged and those with comorbidities did not fare as well. The death rate in 2020 was over 3 percent. Nursing homes throughout the country often experienced horrendous situations. Hundreds of thousands of people died needlessly.
Of course, many people still had to work, but most of us hunkered down and stayed in our houses. We had to learn to order groceries—and anything else that we needed—online. I wrote a little program to allow members of the Simsbury Bridge Club to send me descriptions and/or pictures of their new lifestyle. I then posted them on a webpage that anyone could view. A few people sent responses, and I promptly posted them. You can view them here.
Reading: I also posted quite a few entries about my own life. I took advantage of the extra free time to read more. By June 28 I had read nine novels: The Three-Body Problem by Cixin Liu, Magpie Murders, Fatherland, Supermarket by Bobby Hall, Moriarity by Anthony Horowitz, Two for Texas by James Lee Burke, The House of Silk by Anthony Horowitz, The Brothers K by David James Duncan, and Wayfaring Stranger by James Lee Burke. Supermarket, which I bought at a rare venture to the Target store, was awful. The others were all pretty good. The Enfield Public Library was closed. I purchased several books from Powell’s in Portland, OR. It took them almost a month for them to send them, but their selection of new and used volumes was outstanding.
What I especially liked about Powell’s was the number of books by Jack Vance that were offered for sale. I found some listed there that I had never seen in a library or bookstore, including the one that won an Edgar award for him, The Man in a Cage.
One of the last books that I later ordered from Powell’s was Jack Vance’s autobiography. Because I like a challenge—especially when I had an enormous amount of time on my hands—I selected the version in Italian, Ciao Sono Jack Vance! (E Questa Storia Sono Io). Vance has always been one of my favorite authors, and his last book was certainly one of his best. What a life he led! He managed to finish the book even though he was in poor health and nearly blind. He had to dictate the entire volume.
I was so inspired by this book that I decided to undertake this set of blog entries, which I later labeled The 1948 Project. The details surrounding its genesis have been recorded here.
Most aspects of life were put on hold in the spring and summer of 2020. The American Contract Bridge League (ACBL) canceled all three of its national tournaments and prohibited its units and districts from holding tournaments for the rest of the year. The National Debate Tournament was also canceled. Hollywood closed shop.
Most schools attempted to reopen in the fall, but the result was a huge spike in the number of cases of COVID-19. The election was held in November, of course, but a very large number of people voted by mail rather than in person.
I walked southwest on North St. until it ended at Hazard Ave. (190). I turned left and walked west to Park St. Then a left on Elm St. I walked past Carris Reels to School St. and then north back to North St.
Exercise: I also exercised more during the lockdown. I was walking 35-40 miles per week, outside if the weather was tolerable, and on the treadmill when it wasn’t. On May 2 and a few other occasions I walked ten miles outside.
Later in the summer, however, I could no longer walk more than a mile or two without a pain gradually developing in the top of my right foot. This condition, which caused me to limp, bothered me throughout the year. I still walked, but I had to stop and stretch my IT band for a couple of minutes. Sometimes I would need to perform this ritual two or three times in a 2.5 mile lap. I often stopped after one lap. However, when I walked on the treadmill it hurt a lot less.
Therefore, I began to walk indoors more frequently. On my convertible laptop computer, a Lenovo model called Yoga, I watched many operas from the Metropolitan Opera’s streaming service that were new to me, including Ghosts of Versailles, La Wally, Orphée et Eurydice and many operas by Massenet and Bellini. I was really impressed by performances by Natalie Dessay, Teresa Stratas, and Marilyn Horn. The most bizarre moment occurred when Renée Fleming appeared in Rossini’s Armida. In a tender moment she rubbed cheeks with tenor Lawrence Brownlee, who happened to be black. When they parted more than a square inch of his brown makeup remained on her cheek.
I also watched operas on YouTube while I was walking on the treadmill. The quality was a little spotty—both the performances and the recordings. However, this introduced me to several of the more neglected operas, some of which were delightful.
The best thing about the YouTube operas was that I was able to make MP3 files of them using a piece of free downloadable software called MP3Studio. I had already made MP3 files out of my opera CD’s and downloaded them to a small MP3 player that I had purchased at Best Buy.4 I added quite a few operas from YouTube. My favorite was Tchaikovsky’s Cherevichki. I liked it so much that I purchased a DVD of its performance at Covent Garden in London.
I also downloaded hundreds of great rock and roll songs of the sixties and seventies. I could scarcely believe that most of the best songs from Bob Dylan, the Beatles, and the Rolling Stones were now available for free.
When I walked around the neighborhood I listened to music on the tiny MP3 play. In the cold weather I used my Bose headphones. When it was warmer I used ear buds.
My new and improved arch supports. The one on the right is inside-out.
Toward the end of the year I misplaced one of the arch supports that I had purchased from Walmart before the Pandemic. These were springy pieces of metal (I think) that were inserted into bands that wrapped around the foot and were secured by Velcro. I bought new ones at the same store that were spongy balls in elastic bands. They cost $10.
After I had used the new ones for about a month, the pain in my foot ceased, and I could walk five miles without stopping. I understand that post hoc ergo propter hoc is a famous fallacy, but I did not even consider reverting to the original pair when I discovered the hiding place of the lost arch support.
The Montalbano crew stayed together through all thirty-seven episodes.
I don’t remember how I heard about it, but on November 2 I subscribed (for only 8$ per month!) to a streaming service called MHz Choice. It had all thirty-seven of the Commissario Montalbano movies that I had learned about in 2016 in Sicily5 as well as dozens of other European mysteries and other offerings. All of them were captioned in English. I started with Montalbano (and a prequel called Young Montalbano), but I soon found many other shows that I enjoyed tremendously. There were also a few mysteries on YouTube, including the entire set of Inspector Morse shows.
During one of my walks around the neighborhood a bizarre event occurred. Just after I reached my house a car pulled into the driveway. It was driven by a man carrying three large cheese pizzas from Liberty Pizza. Evidently my phone, which was securely in my pocket, had somehow activated the Slice app to order the pizzas while I was walking. I was billed for them, but the charge was eventually removed from my credit card account after I complained about it.
On August 4 there was a tornado watch. A branch fell and damaged our gutter. A very large branch fell from a tree near the house on 10 Park St. It landed on and crushed a pickup truck that had been parked nearby. A week or more was required to clean it up. I don’t know what became of the truck.
Translation: In desperate need of a project to occupy my mind during the day, I decided in June to translate one of my travel journals into Italian. My Italian teacher, Mary Trichilo (TREE key low) agreed to read my efforts and to provide suggestions. I chose our 2005 Rick Steves trip to Italy that was billed as the Village Italy Tour.5 It was the first one on which the Corcorans joined us, and the first one for my first digital camera.
Reliving that experience was great fun; some of the best moments in my life occurred during those sixteen days. It was also a pretty good way to build my Italian vocabulary back up. I could only hope that I would be able to use it one day. I discovered a few websites that helped me a lot—translate.google.com, of course, but also Reverso.net and LanguageTool.org.
Masks: In the last three quarters of 2020 masks were required virtually everywhere. During the summer it was discovered that the disease was spread by aerosols from exhaling, talking, and singing. Moreover, being indoors greatly increased the probability of transmission. So, it was generally considered acceptable to go outside unmasked, but people were warned to stay at least six feet away from strangers. The last practice was called “social distancing”.
My favorite mask, but the straps tended to break.
The Center for Disease Control (CDC) had a problem. Although they knew that the N95 masks that had been approved for use by NIOSH for painters and others who were often exposed to aerosols were by far the most effective, their official announcements said that people did not need them. Instead they recommended that any type of face covering would work just as well. So, a lot of people made their own masks or even wore bandannas across the lower half of their faces like outlaws in westerns. Others, such as I, purchased ten cheap cotton masks made by Hanes that could easily be washed.
There was a good reason for this deliberate misinformation campaign. A shortage of N95 masks was feared, and it was considered critically important that the best protection (and tightly fitting N95 masks offered much better protection) be available to those who dealt with known COVID patients or with large numbers of people in situations that precluded “social distancing”.
For some people masks, especially the ones that worked the best, were very uncomfortable. They did not bother me much at all. I was, however, quite happy when, during the summer, it became apparent that masks were not necessary outdoors. Still, when I took walks I made certain to keep at least six feet away from other walkers whenever possible.
Health: I was never healthier than in 2020. I experienced no significant ailments at all—not even a cold or indigestion. That pain in my foot bothered me a bit, and on one occasion the nail on my left little finger got bent back and eventually fell off. On the other hand, I was exercising so much that I had to make a shopping trip to Kohl’s to buy a smaller belt to hold up my pants.
My mental state was pretty positive as well. I was able to concoct several interesting projects to occupy my mind when I was not exercising or reading. I would have appreciated a diversion now and then, but most of my life had been good preparation for an extended lockdown. I had a lot of experience at keeping myself occupied.
Sue was also pretty healthy physically, but she got winded very easily. Moreover, she has always been a much more social animal than I was. The strain of the isolation on her spirit was quite evident.
We took a couple of short trips just to get out of the house. At some point in June or July we drove down to Gillette Castle and had a little picnic. We found a spot that was shady and isolated. The walk from the parking lot to our site was uphill, and it definitely wore Sue out. After lunch I took a hike up to the castle by myself. Only a few people were there, and I kept my distance from all of them. This was a very simple outing, but it felt like a small taste of freedom. Perhaps prisoners have the same feeling the first time that they are allowed into the exercise yard.
Lunch at the zoo.
On September 24, when it finally appeared that the Pandemic had abated a bit, we made a road trip to Roger Williams Zoo in Providence. The highlight for me was when we went to see the sloths. I got to show the attendant there that I was wearing a tee shirt with a sloth on it. Sue had bought it for me in Costa Rica.8
On the way back to Enfield we made a stop in Willimantic so that Sue could show me the Shaboo Stage, an outdoor venue that she had frequented to watch local musical performers, mostly blues bands. Sue was friendly with several of these people, and she was very worried for them. The lockdown had eliminated their primary source of income.
We made a third stop at Oliver’s Dairy Bar where we ordered burgers and listened—in our cars—to Bruce John singing and playing his guitar. A few people got out of their cars and danced. It was all a little weird, but it was something to do. Sue had claimed that the food would be very good, but we were both disappointed in it.
People our age were terrified to be among strangers, and reasonably so. Not everyone survived that first year. I did not hear of anyone who died directly from COVID-19, but all of the following members of the debate community died in 2020:
Max Horton, whom I knew quite well from the Simsbury Bridge Club.
David Waltz, whose wife I knew from Tuesday evenings at the Hartford Bridge Club and at tournaments. The three of us even went out to dinner one evening in Hyannis, MA.
Elaine Jaworowski, who was a regular player at the HBC morning games.
Gladys Feigenbaum, who only played occasionally at the HBC and did not seem to be in great health before the lockdown. I did not know her well.
Victor (blue shirt) with Lew Gamerman, Kate McCallum, and Sheila Gabay after a victory in 2019.
The most shocking news was the murder of Grand Life Master Victor King in his own home in Hartford on July 26. He was a very popular player and, to all appearances, had no enemies. His assailant was also his tenant. I had played against Victor a few times and I had talked with him about a few matters concerning the district’s website. At the time the incident was covered in local and national outlets as well as abroad. I was not able to find any information about the disposition of the case.
On July 23 my occasional bridge partner, boss, and good friend Bob Bertoni was operated on for the second or third time in recent years. He recovered enough to continue working as the District Director for the rest of the year, but I think that everyone knew that the handwriting was on the wall.
Sue’s friend and occasional bridge partner, Ginny Basch, also went into the hospital in July. A few days after she had been released she needed to return and have a heart valve inserted. She seemed to recover well enough after that.
On November 16 we learned that Tyesha Henry, Sue’s long-time protégée, had COVID-19. Sue had been with her in an automobile on November 6, but Sue did not develop any symptoms. She dodged a bullet.
Food:Few restaurants were open, and those that were provided only delivery and pickup orders. Most of the time Sue and I ate at home. I continued going to the grocery store, but I always wore a mask (as did nearly everyone else), and I always used the automated checkouts. I seldom was within ten feet of another human. Sue usually ordered groceries online and drove to the store to pick them up.
The hybrid Yum restaurant in E. Windsor.
We ordered pizza perhaps once a month, and we drove to KFC three times7, once in West Springfield and twice in East Windsor. The first drive to East Windsor, which was probably in May, was very strange. There were almost no cars on any of the roads, but there was a long line at the drive-through window at the KFC/Taco Bell restaurant. I did not get my order until twenty-five minutes after my arrival. When I arrived home we discovered that the bags contained both our $20 fill-up and someone else’s Taco Bell order.
On July 18 Sue and I drove over to the beautiful house of Ken and Lori Leopold in Avon, CT. We were originally planning to go to a restaurant for supper, but the negotiations between Lori and Sue for a suitable place with outdoor seating broke down. We enjoyed a very nice supper and then played a few rubbers of bridge. I played with Sue and then Ken. Lori had never played rubber bridge before! That was the only time in the last nine and a half months of 2020 that we dined indoors with other people.
Sue and I celebrated all of the holidays alone together in our house. That was what one did in The (first) Worst Year Ever.
The Neighborhood: The big news was that in the spring the family that lived diagonally across the street from us (“cattywampus” as my Grandmom Cernech would have said) on the southwest corner of North St. and Allen Pl. unceremoniously moved away. This was the family with several trucks and an ATV that the kids rode around on. The father often flew the “Don’t tread on me” flag and other right-wing banners on their flagpole.
The house (a small ranch house with one garage) and yard were both in bad shape when the family abandoned them. Workers spent weeks getting it back in marketable condition. It was auctioned off; no “For Sale” side ever appeared. It was purchased by a woman who has kept it in immaculate conditioned. She even resuscitated the lawn.
The flagpole has never been used since the other family left.
Three doors to the west of them the “patriotic” cause was taken up by a couple. She grew sunflowers accompanied by Bag-a-Bugs and had a statue of an owl that turned its head occasionally. I scoffed at the former and was enthralled by the latter.
He was another kettle of fish. He also had a flagpole. He flew the “Don’t tread on me” flag, but also other flags including a Trump-Pense banner ones about POW/MIAs or respecting the police. Another Trump sign was proudly displayed above the garage. He also had a “concealed carry” sticker on his car’s window. Most bizarrely, he had a fenced-in back yard with red triangular signs on both gates with the word “MINES” on them, as if the back yard contained mines. I took him seriously; he seemed to be retired from both the military and law enforcement, and he was obviously “gung-ho”.
I generally gave these people a wide berth, but my walking took me past their house quite often.
We really only have one next-door neighbor, the residents of 1 Hamilton Court. A couple with children had been living there for quite a few years. He disappeared from the neighborhood at some point before the Pandemic started. A different man moved in and immediately started making over the house and the back yard. I talked to him for a few minutes once. He seemed friendly enough. Anything would be better than his predecessor, who had said he would kill our cats if they ventured onto his property.
This photo was taken from my chair in the office. Giacomo is the one with the long bushy tail.
The Pets: Our two cats, Giacomo and Bob, really enjoyed the lockdown. Sue and I got in the habit of watching television together from 8 p.m. until I could no longer keep my eyes open, which usually occurred between 9:30 and 10. The cats loved the idea that we were both sitting still. Giacomo often sat peacefully on my lap, as he had done for many years. Now, however, the two of them would also sometimes lie together on a blanket that Sue had laid out on the floor. Giacomo seemed to enjoy having a friend. They assumed every position imaginable, including spooning.
Giacomo showing off his thumbs on the bed on November 1.
In October Giacomo surprised me by catching a moth. When he was younger he was a fearsome hunter, but in 2020 that was the only time that he showed much interest in any wildlife.
Sue and I never knew Giacomo’s real birth date, but we celebrated it annually on November 1. 11/1/20 was his seventeenth birthday. When I returned to bed for my first nap of the day I was shocked to find Giacomo had climbed up on the bed. We enjoyed a nap together for the first time in at least a year.
On Christmas Giacomo found a comfortable resting spot. He was left-pawed. Here he is using his business paw to ask for petting.
On August 4th, the day of a tornado watch, I discovered that at least one of the cats (I suspected Giacomo) had stopped using the ramp in the basement that led to the cat door and had instead designated an area of the newer side of the basement as an open latrine. After I cleaned up the smelly mess I drove to Target and purchased a large litter box and some cheap litter.
The cats quickly adjusted to using the litter box, but they tracked litter all over everywhere. I solved the problem by switching to Clean Paws, which was much more expensive but did not stick the their feet as much.
Friends: Sue had many, but I really only had one friend, Tom Corcoran. He left the Land of Steady Habits shortly after the Pandemic struck and rented an apartment in Burlington, VT, which is where his children lived.
In 2020 we only saw him once in person. On August 1 he was back in his house in Wethersfield to take care of some business, and Sue and I drove to meet him there. Sue brought with her and antique ice box that Tom pledged to fix it up somehow.
We celebrated Tom’s birthday with a Zoom call on October 27. You should be able to calculate his age if you have read these blogs carefully.
Bridge: There was no face-to-face duplicate bridge in 2020 after the middle of March.
Many people played online. The ACBL even set up an arrangement for “virtual clubs” that held online sanctioned games of eighteen boards. I did not participate.
On November 18 District 25’s Executive Committee held a meeting on Zoom. It was depressing. The ACBL was probably going to cancel the NABC in the spring in St. Louis and the one scheduled for Providence, RI, in the July of 2021. Most of the members of the Executive Committee, including me, were also on the committee for the latter event. It was crushing news.
The North American Pairs and Grand National Teams would be contested online. I did not like this news at all, but I asked Ken Leopold, Felix Springer, and Trevor Reeves to play with me, and they all agreed. I told Ken that I would practice as much as I could online. We played online on Christmas Day, but that was the only time in 2020. I hated the experience, but this might be my last chance to play in Flight B of the GNT.
Sports: The National Basketball Association, like all other forms of indoor entertainment, suspended play when the Pandemic hit. In order to salvage part of the 2019-2020 season the league spent $190 to build a “bubble” at Disney World in Orlando, FL. Twenty-two of the league’s thirty teams were invited to the city to play the remaining eight regular season games and the playoffs behind closed doors. Of course, the games were televised.
Yes, they actually played all of the games in Disney World surrounded by pictures of imaginary fans.
This approach worked very well. Everyone involved in the games stayed in the bubble and was tested regularly. No cases at all were reported. The season ended on October 11, with the Los Angeles Lakers crowned as champions. The league generated about $1.5 billion is revenue.
Other sports did not follow the league’s example. The only one that I was interested in was college football. The Big Ten was pressured by Trump into playing the season, sort off. All non-conference games were canceled, and the beginning of play was postponed until October 24. Games were played in empty or nearly empty stadiums.
Michigan was ranked #18 in the preseason and beat #21 Minnesota 49-24 in the opening game. This was followed by three embarrassing losses. In week 5 the Wolverines used a new quarterback, Cade McNamara, to beat Rutgers in three overtimes. In week 6 they lost to Penn State at home. Since all of its remaining games were canceled due to COVID-19 outbreaks, the team ended the season 2-4, the worst record in living memory.
The whole idea of playing during a pandemic was idiotic. The NCAA ended up granting extra eligibility to all of the players.
I guess that sports addicts enjoyed watching the competitions in empty stadiums and arenas. I did not watch any sports at all during the entire year.
Miscellaneous: I filed my income taxes in February. I did not receive my refund until August 1. There were two reasons for this: Most IRS employees were working remotely, and a large number were busy distributing the $1400 stimulus checks that Donald Trump made sure had his name on them. I am not complaining.
The class that I took in Advanced Italian held only nine of its ten classes. The last one was canceled (without a refund) because of COVID-19. I signed up for the fall class, but it was canceled on September 9.
On August 8 we received a check from AIG for the trip insurance for our cruise in March that had been canceled. AIG, the largest company in the trip insurance market, must have taken a real bath in 2020.
I purchased and tried to read a couple of Montalbano novels by Andrea Camilleri. They were difficult for me. The narrative was in standard Italian, but most of the dialogue was in the Sicilian dialect, which is much different.
On August 11 Bank of America refused the automatic payment of the bill for our homeowners’ insurance policy. I had received a new credit card and had not yet changed the number on Travelers’ website. It was resolved in a few days.
Beginning on November 10 we enjoyed almost a week of really beautiful weather. Sue and I drove up to her property in Monson, MA. She wanted to walk up to the top, but she got less than a hundred yards before she was out of breath and exhausted. We rested a few minutes and then walked back to the car.
Desperate for something to do, on November 11 I began polishing up my novel Ben 9, which I have posted here. I just had to do this. It had been inside of me, and I had to let it out. I doubt that anyone will ever read it. Who is interested in reading about the clergy in the eleventh century?
What else? I feel as if I have left out something important that happened in 2020. What was it? Oh, yeah, the election. You can read about it here.
1. I don’t know why all the letters are capitalized. It is not an acronym. The five letters stand for Coronavirus Disease. “Corona” is the Latin word for crown. The -19 was added to indicate that it began in 2019.
3. I tweeted that I thought that Magpie Murders was the best mystery that I had ever read. Anthony Horowitz thanked me in the comments and wished well to the HBC.
4. The Best Buy in Enfield was a casualty of the Pandemic. The building was still empty two years later.
5. The journal for the Sicily trip is posted here.
6. The English version of that trip can be read here.
7. The excursion to the sloth sanctuary is described here.
8. There once was a KFC in Enfield on Route 5, but the owner retired, and the store closed. Enfield contains almost every other kind of fast food place, but for years no one sold fried chicken until a Popeye’s opened in August of 2022.
The story of the pets who shared the house in Enfield with Sue and me begins here. It recounts the first fifteen years of our lives there with, for most of the period, two cats named Rocky and Woodrow. Rocky died in the summer of 2003 after a very full life.
In late 2003 or early 2004 Sue’s sister Betty told us that a friend of hers had a family of cats that were too much for her to manage. Sue went to meet her one evening and chose on the spot to adopt a long-haired black male that was about the same size as Rocky and Woodrow. The woman called him Fluffy, which, of course, would never do. I dubbed him Giacomo after my favorite opera composer, Giacomo Puccini, and Giacomo della Chiesa, better known as Pope Benedict XV.
For a few weeks Giacomo was, to put it mildly, very wary of his new surroundings. We did not keep him cooped up for more than a day or two, and thereafter I personally spent a lot of time looking for him and trying to remove him from various hiding places. I remember that one day he somehow crawled under the dishwasher in the old kitchen. Fortunately, he was just shy, not a bit aggressive or even defensive. As soon as I got a good grip on him he let me pull him out of his hiding spot without much of a struggle.
Giacomo on the chair showing off his thumbs and his anteater tail. Woodrow looks up from the floor.
Finding him when he hid outdoors was even more challenging. He liked to retreat beneath some evergreen bushes on the north side of our house. When I approached him from one side, he slipped over to the other. It took me at least thirty minutes to retrieve him whenever he did this.
Woodrow, who made new friends very easily, took the new kid under his wing. Giacomo followed his lead in nearly everything.
Eventually, Giacomo became comfortable in both our house and our yard. However, he did not seem to comprehend the value of the cat door (described here). It looked like a trap to him.
Finally, one day Sue and I decided to team up to help him understand it. Sue held him on the outside of the cat door and pushed him through. I was in the basement standing on a chair by the cat door. When he appeared on the top shelf of the bookcase, I grabbed him, took him in my arms (which he liked), and walked around the basement enough so that he could figure out where he was. I then returned him to the top shelf by the cat door and pushed him back through it. Sue grabbed him and held him for a minute or two. Then she pushed him back through to the basement again.
All of a sudden I could see the light bulb appear over Giacomo’s head as he emerged into familiar surroundings. The message penetrated through all the fear to his little brain. He finally realized that this little door meant that he could come and go as he pleased. It was no trap; it meant freedom!
Meanwhile, to our surprise, Giacomo continued to grow. After a couple of months he was a good two inches taller than Woodrow and three or more inches longer. He had one broken (or at least shorter) fang that bothered him not even a little. He also had polydactyly on both front paws. Each had an extra toe sticking out on the inside. They looked a lot like thumbs. One other thing was quickly noticeable about Giacomo—he was left-pawed. I called his left front paw “Lefty”. If it came towards you, it generally meant business.
During his first summer in Enfield Giacomo cleaned out the mole colony that had resumed residency when Woodrow retired as master exterminator a few years earlier.
For the most part Giacomo followed Woodrow around the house and the yard. Woodrow habitually came in to the bedroom every morning when my alarm went off at 5 AM. Giacomo began to join us. I was expected to acknowledge both of them, although Woodrow wanted nothing more than a rub or two on his head. Giacomo liked to be rubbed all the way down his spine, but he did not like his belly rubbed.
In the summer the coolest sport for a nap was this sink. Giacomo learned this trick from Woodrow.
From the start Giacomo preferred me over Sue. Whenever I sat down on a chair he jumped onto my lap. If I was seated at my desk (which was really a tabletop astride two file cabinets), he often got bored and went exploring on the table. If I was watching TV, he lay lengthwise on my lap (on a stadium blanket that I always set there) when he was younger and across it when he got older. I don’t know why he changed. Whenever I lay down he walked (he was so long that he hardly needed to jump) up onto the bed and settled himself next to me.
I never teased Giacomo in the way that I tortured Woodrow with that stick and feather. However, I occasionally took advantage of the fact that he allowed me to do almost anything to him. I liked to lift him up over my head and make him pretend to walk on the ceiling.
Woodrow and Giacomo were left “home alone” during our trips to Village Italy in 2005 (described here) and Eastern Europe in 2007 (described here).
Suburban raccoons are too fat for cat doors.
Woodrow was still around for a startling occurrence in May of 2008. The cat door drew the attention of a masked varmint, a raccoon that was too chubby to fit through the opening. Raccoons are known to be very crafty, but this one used brute force to solve the problem. He made short work of my (very) amateurish carpentry by pulling the door out of its wooden frame in the window. Sue and I knew that the rascal had made it all the way into the house when we found the cat bowl empty and water all over the floor. Cats are very meticulous when drinking water; they seldom spill a drop. Raccoons are meticulous in a different way. They wash their food before they eat it; they always spill water, and they never clean up after they are finished eating.
Chick Comparetto let us borrow his Havahart trap, and he showed Sue how to use it. She then put it outside near the cat’s entrance (which we had temporarily closed off) and put some food in it. On the very first night the raccoon got caught in the trap. Sue and Chick then transported the raccoon—still in the cage—in her car across the Connecticut River to Suffield, where they released it in a wooded area.
Sue immortalized the raccoon adventure by recording a video of the release in Suffield. You can watch it here.
I bought a new sturdier cat door and affixed it to the board blocking the window a little more securely.
In the late summer of 2008 Woodrow died. He was eighteen years old, the same age that Rocky was at his death. Woodrow was weak and very ragged looking the last week or so. I stayed home with him on his last day.
Despite my closeness to him, I wasn’t overcome with grief when Woodrow died. The Woodrow that I wanted to remember was the devious rascal and hunter, not the decrepit bag of bones of his last few days. I still retain so many vivid memories of him. He was an immediate friend to everyone whom we let in through a human-sized door, but I think that, at least in his younger years, he would have fought to the death to defend against an intruder trying to get through the cat door.
I buried Woody under the burning bush, his favorite outdoor napping spot. I don’t honestly know whether Giacomo missed him as much as I did. He could not have missed him more.
Franklin.
For about a year Giacomo was our only pet. Then Sue learned that Betty’s friend, who was absolutely thrilled to find out how much we liked Giacomo, told Sue that she could have Giacomo’s litter-mate, whom she had named Frankie. I insisted on elongating his name to Franklin.
Franklin was black, like Giacomo, but he had short hair, and he was not as long and lean as his brother. I thought of them as the anteater and the aardvark. Giacomo was the bigger anteater with his luxurious fur coat. Franklin was the much less attractive aardvark.
Giacomo on the futon.
Giant Anteater
Aardvark
Pretty good analogy, no?
Franklin did not share Giacomo’s pleasant disposition and love of human companionship. He never fought with his brother, which we recognized as a big plus. However, Franklin did not especially like either Sue or me. He would only occasionally let us pet him. mostly when he was outside. Once or twice, however, I actually found him up on the bed with Giacomo, but after a couple of strokes he became antsy and departed.
This sturdier version of the cat door was installed with the new addition in 2013.
The aspect of living with us that Franklin hated the most was the monthly application of flea drops. I suspect that he had never been allowed outdoors at his previous residence. He discovered the cat door in the basement without our assistance, and he seemed to appreciate the freedom that it provided. However, he had never learned the fundamental lesson of civics class: with all freedom comes responsibility. In this case, the monthly flea drops were the price civilization exacted for his liberty.
This is the basement side, with a ramp down to the floor.
When the weather was warm Franklin put me through a frustrating and exhausting ritual every month. When I was sure that Franklin was in the house, I shut the door to the basement so that he could not retreat there. I then chased him from room to room trying to corner him. Sometimes he hid under one of the barnboard shelves in the library. When he did, I had to wait for him to move. Eventually I always trapped in the bedroom, where he would take refuge under the bed. I had to remove the mattress and box springs to get at him. I always eventually managed to apply the treatment, but the experience was a gigantic pain in the coondingy1.
In contrast, I merely waited for Giacomo to jump in my lap. He did not mind getting the drops at all. He trusted me completely.
Giacomo and Franklin stayed home together while Sue, I, and our friends the Corcorans toured Paris and the South of France in 2009 (described here). We also took a Russian River Cruise in 2010 (described here) and an ill-fated tour of South Italy the following year (described here). I learned of no untoward incidents either caused by or inflicted on either cat.
Franklin on the futon.
For some reason Franklin insisted on exploring our neighbor’s3 property. The gentleman who lived there called me aside while I was trimming the forsythia bush near his property one day and informed me that he had a problem with our cats. They made his dog bark too much. I told him that I would see what I could do.
I thought of responding, “Oh, you have a dog problem. I thought that you said that you had a cat problem.” After all, in Enfield, although dogs must be fenced in or kept on a leash, there is no law against cats roaming free.
I was pretty certain that Franklin was the instigator. Whenever I saw him near the neighbor’s property, I chased him back to our yard. However, I worked all day, and I slept at night. Franklin had ample opportunities to roam. One day, when I was not home, the dog owner accosted Sue and told her that if he caught one of our cats on his property, he would kill it. I won’t repeat Sue’s precise response, but it was not neighborly.
The situation did not escalate any further. I wrote a letter to the neighbors that explained the situation with our cats and offered to pay if they did any damage. Shortly thereafter the family got rid of its noisy dog, and eventually the man of the house departed as well.
In 2012 Franklin got hit by a car on North Street. I did not dig a grave for him, the only domestic animal that I have ever really disliked.
After Franklin’s death Giacomo was our only pet3 for quite a few years. He went through a period in which he spent a lot of time on Allen Street, a dead-end street that was directly across North Street (the site of Franklin’s untimely demise) from our house. Quite a few outdoor cats lived in the neighborhood and congregated informally. The situation reminded me of the old Top Cat cartoons.
I did not like this new lifestyle, but there was not much that I could do about it without turning Giacomo into an indoor cat. Sue was equally concerned. She came to see me when I was in my easy chair wearing my cardigan sweater and reading a magazine. She said, “Ward, I ‘m worried about Giacomo.”
Giacomo on the bed.
Although I don’t remember attributing his injury to the evil influence of the other gang members, one day Giacomo came home with a wound that had formed an abscess. The vet who examined him told me that if this happened again, we might need to keep him inside. That was something that we really wanted to avoid. She also told me that he definitely had a heart murmur, but she did not recommend doing anything about it. It made me think, however, that Giacomo would probably not match the longevity records of Rocky and Woodrow.
Bob in 2017.
Eventually Giacomo’s wanderlust subsided. By 2016 he almost never left the property. That was the year that another black cat decided that he wanted to take up resident at the Slanetz house, home of Sue’s siblings, Don and Betty, and their father, Art. Betty and Art were quite fond of the newcomer, a very stocky fellow with an inflexible tail that measured only four or five inches. Betty named him Bob in honor of his tail—bobcats are sometimes seen in the area. The tail reminded me more of a crank or handle.
A good view of the crank.
Unfortunately, Betty’s own cat had a fiercely hostile reaction to Bob’s presence. Betty therefore asked Sue to adopt him, and, needless to say, Sue agreed. Bob moved into our house on December 8, 2016, and for about two or three weeks Bob and Giacomo hissed at each other. They eventually became tolerant and, in time, quite friendly.
Giacomo held down the fort in Enfield by himself on several of our tours and cruises. Bob and Giacomo stayed in the house by themselves while we took the bridge trip/vacation in Hawaii in 2018 (details here).
Giacomo was much longer.
Not to mention his tail.
Bob exploring in the back yard.
Bob developed one very peculiar tendency. From the beginning his joints were not very flexible, especially by cats’ standards. Something also seemed to itch him on his spine, and he tried desperately to get at it with his teeth. To do this he rested his weight on one shoulder and used a back leg to spin around furiously. It reminded me of someone breakdancing.
After a while some tufts appeared on Bob’s spine. They looked like matted clumps of fur, but he would not let us touch them at all. They kept getting bigger, and eventually it became clear that they were growths of some kind. Maybe we should have taken him to the vet, but at the time Bob would not let me touch him under any conditions. Sue decided to let him be. Every so often she would say to him, “Oh, Bob, what am I going to do with you?”
Prior to Bob’s arrival Giacomo almost never made a sound unless I rolled over his tail with my office chair. Bob was quite talkative, and he had a pleasant voice. Giacomo began to vocalize, too, but he almost always squawked at a high volume. He sounded just like a blue jay. This was his only bad habit. We just had to put up with it.
Giacomo and Sue sometimes napped together.
Meanwhile, Giacomo was definitely beginning to show his age. Whereas he formerly sprang up to my lap or to his favorite perch on the back of the sofa, by 2019 he didn’t jump at all. He had to climb. He had also lost the ability (or at least the inclination) to retract his claws. When he walked on a bare floor, he always made click-click sounds. His right front paw also definitely bothered him. He never ran, and he walked with a noticeable limp.
This is a rare shot. B0b was seldom allowed in Giacomo’s main napping spot atop the couch. Bob always stuck out his right rear leg when resting.
I spent the week after Thanksgiving in 2019 in San Francisco at the NABC4 tournament (described here). Between and after the rounds my thoughts often turned to Giacomo. I really feared that he might die while I was gone. I would not have been too surprised if Bob had died as well.
I was wrong on both counts. Both Bob and Giacomo were still reasonably healthy and active when the Pandemic changed all of our lives in March of 2020.
1. I learned this word while I was in the army. I think that it is derived from a Korean word that sounds similar.
2. Because of the location of our house, we really had only one next-door neighbor, the residents of 1 Hamilton Court. I think that the person with whom I conversed was named Chris Simons. He no longer lives there in 2022, but I think that his wife still does.
3. I am not counting our third rabbit. At some point before, during, or after Franklin’s stay with us at 41 North Street, Sue accepted (without consulting me) another rabbit from a relative or a friend of a relative. She explained that it could live outdoors, and she promised that she would care for it. She neglected it, and it died within a month or two.
4. Prior to the Pandemic three North American Bridge Championships were held every year at rotating sites by the American Contract Bridge League.
When we were still living in Detroit, Sue Comparetto founded TSI Tailored Systems as sole proprietor. I helped her occasionally in the early days, but for the most part she did it alone. She never had any employees or, as far as I know, a business plan. She inherited a handful of accounts from her former employer. At first she had an office in Highland Park, a small and dangerous city surrounded by Detroit. Then, when TSI somehow obtained an IBM 5120 computer, she set up shop in the spare room in our house in Detroit.
Having the computer in Detroit allowed me to learn BASIC. Having access to the programs and listings from AIS, the company that wrote most of the software that Sue supported, allowed me to learn how business programs could be structured. We were self-taught. I had taken exactly one college-level programming class at Michigan in 19661; Sue had none. Neither of us had ever taken an accounting or marketing class. In fact, neither of us had ever even sold or helped market anything.
The partnership’s logo as it appeared on the first set of ring binders.
When we moved back to Connecticut, Sue registered TSI as a partnership. We worked together, but we never really agreed on who was responsible for what. I considered myself much better at programming than Sue was. I therefore expected to do the bulk of the coding (including software for TSI to use) and for her to handle nearly everything else. The way I thought of this was: she does the phone stuff; I do the computer stuff.
The first additional task that I felt obliged to take over was marketing. In Detroit Sue had never needed to find new clients. She was given a bunch of them, and she hoped that IBM would provide her with additional leads. When we moved back to Connecticut, however, we lost the ties with the Detroit IBM office, and it was difficult to make new arrangements. We had only a few clients and lousy credentials.
I copied company names and addresses from the Yellow Pages.
We scrambled to get a few custom programming jobs. I did nearly all the design, coding, implementation, and training. I pulled together a mailing list from phone books at the library and wrote letters to businesses that I thought might be interested in systems designed for our clients. We never made a lot of money this way, but it did generate some business. Eventually, IBM also gave us some leads.
We hired a receptionist/bookkeeper, Debbie Priola, and a programmer, Denise Bessette. The former freed up time for Sue almost immediately. The latter consumed quite a bit of my time for a couple of months, but eventually she helped a lot. Unfortunately, she decided to return to college and cut back on her hours at TSI. More details about the early years of TSI can be read here.
Enjoyable but frustrating.
Both Sue and I found most of the decade of the eighties to be enjoyable but frustrating. The programming was fun and very challenging. Almost all of TSI’s customers appreciated our approach. However, we never came up with a good way of monetizing our efforts. The ad agency system, GrandAd, did better than the “anything for a buck” approach that we had been forced to use in the beginning. However, our market was effectively limited to agencies that were within driving distance and were too large for a PC system. In that reduced market, it was difficult to make enough sales to get by. Eventually there were so few reasonable prospects remaining that a change in strategy was essential.
I was convinced that our future lay in selling AdDept to large retail advertisers across the country. There was no real competition, and there seemed to be a good number of prospects.
What about “sell”?
I don’t think that Sue agreed with this change in focus. She had always favored local businesses over large corporations when purchasing something, and I am pretty sure that she also preferred dealing with smaller businesses over dealing with corporate executives. The fact that both of our first two AdDept clients declared bankruptcy and left us with tens of thousands of dollars of noncollectable invoices reinforced her attitude.
Sue had always been a night person. I was the opposite. I always was out of bed by 5AM or earlier. I usually became very sleepy around 9:30PM. I then took a shower and read a few pages of a book in bed. I was almost always asleep within a minute or two of turning off the lights. I stuck to this routine for decades, and I still do in 2021.
At some point in the eighties Sue developed a sleeping problem. She liked to watch late-night television, but she almost always dozed off in her chair. She slept very fitfully, waking up with a start and then falling back asleep. This went on for a long time—months, maybe years. Finally she went to a doctor. He prescribed a sleep study. It was not a surprise that it confirmed that she had sleep apnea. For reasons that I have never understood Sue was reluctant to purchase and then use the sleep machine. The models sold in those days were big, expensive, and ungainly. Even so, breathing well while sleeping is critical to good health.
I suspect strongly that this long period in which she was not getting enough oxygen when she slept impaired her performance at work and elsewhere. She regularly came in to the office late—very late. She was late for appointments. She missed appointments all together. The books were never closed on time. She repeatedly put off providing the accountant with tax information, even though the company’s operation was not a bit complicated. There were many other issues, but the worst thing, from my perspective, was that she made employees call the people with whom she had appointments in order to make excuses for her.
To the best of my knowledge none of the people whom I listed relapsed even once.
In 1987 or 1988 Sue gave up smoking. At almost exactly the same time, Denise did, too. So did Patti Corcoran, Sue’s best friend, and, halfway across the country, my dad. This was like a dream come true for me. I had never taken a puff, but for years I had worked in smoky offices and had taken Excedrin for headaches. When TSI’s office was declared smoke-free, my headaches went away forthwith, and they never returned.
Sue, in contrast, had a very difficult time quitting. She put on quite a bit of weight, which amplified the sleep apnea problem. She was also more irritable at work and at home.
I must mention one other factor: Sue never throws anything away. Okay, if it has mold on it, or it is starting to stink, she will discard it. Otherwise she stuffs things for which she has no immediate use in bags or boxes.
When I first met Sue, she was renting one room in the basement of someone’s house. It was not cluttered at all. She seemed to have no possessions except a water bed, a record player, and a few albums. By the early nineties we had a house of our own with two rooms that had no assigned function, a garage, an attic, and a full basement. All of them soon became full of junk. Both of our cars had to park outside because the garage was wall-to-wall miscellany.
Fire hydrants!
Junk.
Really old junk.
Sue is not the only hoarder in her family. These photos were taken in the lot behind the Slanetz Corp. office.
TSI’s headquarters in Enfield was nearly as bad. Sue’s very large office was the worst. Strewn about were boxes and paper sacks full of correspondence and memorabilia. Her desk was always completely covered, and post-it notes were everywhere.
In the rest of the office stood several file cabinets. Of course, every business must retain records, and one never knew when the company might get audited. It was also critically important to maintain good records about contacts with clients and prospects, and our business, in particular, needed up-to-date listings of programs, which we had by the thousands. So, we had a lot of important paperwork.
No more mainframe announcements, please.
However, in TSI’s office could be found many other things, which by any measure were totally useless. One day I undertook to throw away the announcements that we constantly received from IBM about its products. These documents formed a stack about four feet high. 90 percent of these missives were about mainframe products. There was absolutely no chance that we would ever work with any of these machines. Even the remaining ones (all of which I intended to keep) were seldom of any value because the information might have been contradicted by a subsequent notice.
Sue asked me what I was doing, and I told her. She immediately got very upset and even started to cry. She just could not stand for anyone to make the decision to discard anything that she considered hers. I realized at that moment this was a reflection of a very serious problem. I put all the notices back in the file cabinet.2
1994 was a good year for J2P2, too.
1994: It was the best of times; it was the worst of times.
The business was finally taking off. Our new salesman, Doug Pease, was demonstrating that he was ideal for the job. The nationwide retail recession had ended. The retail conglomerates with money (or credit) were gobbling up smaller chains, and in most cases this worked to our advantage. We were approaching a position in which we need not ever worry about competition. Most of us were working very hard, but we were getting new clients, and it was exciting.
The problem was Sue. She was hardly involved in any of this at all. Her behavior was becoming really unprofessional. Doug complained about her often. She kept hiring assistants, and they kept quitting. I could not find out where we stood financially because our books were so out of date.
On a couple of occasions I was stretched so thin that I asked Sue to take trips to clients for me. I did not think that technical expertise would be involved. I just needed someone to find out what the users needed. The first one was to Macy’s East in New York. Sue never told me what happened, but the people at Macy’s told me years later that they had made voodoo dolls representing her and stuck pins in them.
The other trip was to Foley’s in Houston. Sue flew all the way there and then realized that she had brought no cash. Her credit cards had all been canceled by the issuers. Fortunately, she had a checkbook, and Beverly Ingraham, the Advertising Director at Foley’s, cashed a check for her.
In May of 1994 Sue and I took a very important road trip to Pittsburgh. We met with Blattner/Brunner, an ad agency (described here), and Kaufmann’s, a chain of department stores (described here). Both of these sessions went quite well. When we returned to Enfield, I was required to spend a lot of time working on the proposal for Kaufmann’s. It was the most complicated and difficult one that I had ever done, and if I did not do a good job of analyzing and estimating the difficulty of each element, we could suffer for this for years.
So, I asked Sue to follow up on Blattner/Brunner while I was working on Kaufmann’s. Sue had been there for the session in Pittsburgh. There was no one else I could turn to. She completely fumbled the ball. I was quite angry, but I knew that it would do no good to nag her about it.
On the other hand, I appreciated the fact that she was the founder of the company. These opportunities never would have happened if she had not started the ball rolling back in Detroit.
The day finally came when I just could not take it any more. I told her to go home and not to come in to work any more. There was no argument and no tears. She told me that I was making a big mistake and just left.
No one else thought that it was a mistake.
Within a day or so I approached Sue with the following arrangement: TSI Tailored Systems Inc. would be registered as a Chapter C corporation.
I would be president and have 55 percent of the stock, and Sue would would be treasurer with 45 percent. We would hire a new accountant to handle the corporation, and the bookkeeper would report to me. It would be my responsibility to make sure that the books were closed on time, and the taxes were paid on time. I would also do our personal taxes. We would fund the corporation with the difference between our accounts receivable and our accounts payable. If it needed cash (as it did a few times), I would loan as much as necessary to the corporation at a reasonable interest rate.
Sue was not happy about it, but she agreed to this. She did not even argue about the salary amounts that I set.
Amazon sells these.
Our new accountant’s name was Sal Rossitto2. He guided us through the transition. He advised us to set up an Limited Liability Company3, but I insisted on a true corporate entity that issued stock to its owners.
Setting up the new corporation was fairly straightforward. We had to open a new bank account. I found it to be a fairly simple matter to close the books every month within a day or two of the end of the month. We also set up a 401K with matching funds, a profit-sharing plan, and a good health and disability insurance plan from Anthem. None of this was difficult.
I am not sure who took over handling of the payroll after Sue left. TSI eventually hired Paychex to do it. Denise collected the time cards from the employees and submitted the requisite forms to Paychex.
Our accountants loved our Nov. fiscal year. They could work on our taxes in a less busy season.
I made one very good decision. We set our fiscal year to run from December 1 through November 30. We paid bonuses and made contributions in November. This gave all the employees the entire month of December to spend or save for tax purposes.
Dissolving TSI was a much more complicated task. Sue and Sal met often over the course of several months to unravel issues in the partnership’s books. I remember, among other things, some kind of ugly situation with regard to sales tax in California regarding the way that the installation at Gottschalks occurred. At the end of this process Sal confided to me that he now understood why I wanted to set up a real corporation.
The new logo as it appeared on invoices and letterhead.
We also ordered new letterhead. Ken Owen worked with me on the logo. I eliminated the stripes and the lean of TSI. The color around the TSI was pure blue. The colors to the left of that block went from a very light blue gradually darker almost to pure blue. The effect worked better on the computer screen than it did when printed.
For me the most important thing was to reestablish blue as the company’s color. It started with a light blue as shown at the top of the page, but over the years it had somehow evolved into something that was more green than blue. I hated it.
The next few years were boom years for TSI. I worked my tail off, and my travel schedule was a killer. I didn’t care. We had finally turned the corner, and the future looked very bright.
Life at home, however, was very difficult. Sue was obviously unhappy. She probably thought that I intended to dump her. I still loved her; I just did not want to work with her any more. I was quite sure that the company would do better without her.
displayed no interest in finding a job. This surprised me. She had had quite a few jobs since I met her. She really liked a few of them. She could summon up a great deal of enthusiasm about new projects, and she loved meeting new people. I could think of several occupations that she would fit very well.
Instead, she leased some space in an old office building in a questionable part of downtown Springfield, MA. She then fixed it up and rented it out to dance teachers who needed a place to give lessons. I don’t know how much of our money she lost on this venture. I am not sure that she even kept records of it. She certainly didn’t ask my opinion about it.
On weekends we still drove to Wethersfield to visit our old friends, the Corcorans, regularly. That helped quite a bit.
At one point Sue awarded herself a vacation. She drove to New Orleans to see a guy that she knew from high school who was into social dancing. She stopped at some other places along the way. I never asked her about what happened on this trip. When she returned she did not offer any details.
Eventually things got a little better. After the trip to Hawaii (described here) in December 1995 the situation became more tolerable for both of. At least we had some money to spend and save for the first time ever in our relationship.
1. The course that I took as a freshman at U-M taught a programming language that was unknown outside of Ann Arbor. It was called MAD, which stood for Michigan Algorithm Decoder. We wrote our programs on 80-column punch cards.
2. Perhaps you are wondering why I gave in without an argument. It was because I recognized quite early in our relationship that Sue was expert at playing the “Why don’t you …? Yes, but …” game described by Eric Berne in his best-selling book Games People Play. A pretty good write-up of the “game” is posted here. This is also the reason that I did not press her about the sleep apnea.
2. Sal Rossitto died in 2002. His obituary is here.
3. The purpose of an LLC is to protect the “members” from being personally responsible for debts and obligations undertaken by the company, but it is not as completely separated as a true corporation.
In the mid-eighties we finally took two real vacations, one in 1985 and one in 1986. We had such a good time on the first one that we tried to replicate the experience the next year, but, of course, it turned out to be rather different.
Sue and I discovered that we could spend a week in February cruising the Caribbean for only about $1,000. The price included air fare from Bradley to Miami. Curt Hussey had advised me that cruises were the best kind of vacations. You could do as much or as little as you wanted, and there was no hassle at all.
This plan suited me. I have always said that the only good thing about February is that it is short. We made reservations for a seven-day cruise on the Song of Norway, a ship of the Royal Caribbean Cruise Lines (RCCL), in the western Caribbean. It would start and end in Miami.
By the end of 1984 the business seemed to be doing a little better. Hiring Denise Bessette and Kate Behart had worked out well, and we actually had a little money in the bank. We notified all of the clients that we would be gone for a week. We would try to stay in touch, but it might be difficult on some days.
We did no research at all for either of these cruises. We were simply looking for warmth, pleasure, and relaxation. There was nothing wrong with that, I suppose, but on subsequent long trips I totally changed my mind about the objectives of traveling to distant locations.
Who needs these?
Neither Sue nor I had a credit card. I don’t think that we would have brought hundreds of dollars in cash. We might have bought some travelers’ checks.
It is hard for me to believe in retrospect, but at the time we had no pets! So, all we needed to arrange was transportation to and from the airport. Perhaps one of the employees drove us to the airport, and one of Sue’s sisters picked us up. We might have taken a cab. Maybe we left one of the cars at one of the parking lots that surrounded the airport. Some offered weekly rates.
It was, of course, very cold when our plane took flight from Bradley in the morning and warm when we arrived in Miami around noon. However, the differential was not as great as the time that Bill Davey and I flew there from Detroit in 1970, as described here.
I remember that we were met at the airport by a representative from RCCL. I think that they provided transportation to the port. My recollection is that we were allowed to board pretty much immediately.
A photo of the Song of Norway in 1985.
The cruise itself got off to a rocky start. Somehow our luggage got misplaced. The staff told us that they would get it for us, but we would need to do without until the next day. This was a problem because the first night’s supper, which had open seating, was the only occasion of the entire trip that was designated as somewhat formal. Everyone else was dressed up. As it turned out, our attire was a pretty good ice-breaker. Everyone was sympathetic when they heard about our problem.
Fortunately, that was our last real problem. The rest of the cruise was absolutely delightful.
Sue told me that she recalled that there were only 750 passengers, but the ship’s passenger capacity then1 was actually 1,196. There may have been some empty cabins, but I do not remember a lot of empty tables at dinner.
We did not have our luggage that first night, but our employees (or maybe it was Tom and Patti Corcoran), ordered a bottle of champagne for our cabin. I think that RCCL gave us a fruit basket, too.
We got the cheapest cabin available. It had no view, twin beds that were pushed together, a small bathroom, and a desk. It was about as small as could be imagined. I did not intend to spend much time there. Sue complained about the size of the shower, but I found everything satisfactory. She also objected to the cabin steward going through her luggage every afternoon to find something sexy to lay out on her bed. My recollection is that nearly all of the cabin stewards were Filipinos.
The ship seemed gigantic to us, totally oblivious to the puny waves below us. By twenty-first century cruising standards, however, it was a canoe.
The ship each issued each passenger a credit-card sized piece of plastic. This card served as an identity document in getting on and off the ship and as the means of payment for anything on the ship. It was possible to avoid most expenses, but even a penny-pincher like me ended up spending hundreds of dollars on excursions and tips.
Although we eventually sailed as far west at the Yucatan Peninsula, the ship stayed on Eastern Standard Time throughout the cruise.
The ship’s first stop was at a private island owned by RCCL, now called CocoCay2, where the staff put on a picnic lunch. There were a few other activities in the afternoon as well, but there was nothing very elaborate. There were plenty of picnic tables, some volleyball courts, and some trails. Basically, it was just a place to relax for a few hours and get to know a few of our fellow cruisers. I took a little hike, but there was nothing much to see.
Back on the ship there were two seatings for supper: 6:00 and 8:00. I would have much preferred to eat at six, but Sue protested that she needed to get cleaned up and dressed, and she has never liked being rushed. So we ate at the second seating. The down side was that the after-supper entertainment was too late for a morning person like myself.
We ate at the same table every evening. Some tables were larger, but ours had only four chairs. Our dining companions were a couple from Wisconsin who were about our age. The same waiter served our table every evening. Ours was from Greece. I forget his name, but all four of us rapidly became very enamored with him. The menu changed every night. There were three or four choices for the entrée. The selection was good, the quality was good, and the quantities were unlimited.
Needless to say, the couple from Wisconsin were sheepshead enthusiasts. They were excited to hear that we had played the game, an event that is described here. We agreed to play with them as well if they explained ALL the rules to us. They listed them in a couple of minutes. I protested that I was certain that there were additional rules. They insisted that it was a simple game.
This time we got to the third or fourth hand before the first undisclosed rule made its appearance. Others soon followed. I am convinced that all people from Wisconsin are given at birth two sets of rules, one that they disclose to foreigners and one to mention only when they apply.
We were surprised that there was so much to do on the ship. In the movies there only seemed to be four activities on cruise ships: dancing, shuffleboard, sitting on deck chairs, and gazing at the stars in formal attire. On most days I tried to run on the Promenade Deck, but it was very boring. A lap was only about one tenth of a mile. Also, you had to dodge strolling passengers and be on the alert for slippery spots.
I had no interest in shopping in any of the ship’s stores or losing money in the on-board casino. I spent as much time as possible in the sun by the swimming pool drinking free Diet Cokes or iced teas.
Our route to Jamaica took us between Hispaniola (Haiti and the Dominican Republic) and Cuba. In fact, Cuba was visible on the starboard (or as we say in Kansas, “right”) side of the ship for most of the first part of the cruise and on the port side on the return voyage.
I don’t remember any high-rises in Ocho Rios in 1985. Unless you were looking for weed, the town was very dull.
The second stop was at Ocho Rios on the south side of Jamaica. West of the harbor was a large brick-red wooden factory that produced aluminum, which the locals pronounced with an extra syllable as the British do, from locally mined bauxite.
I don’t think that the water was flowing this fast when we were there. This looks dangerous.
Several excursions were offered. I wanted to climb the rocks at Dunn’s River Falls. I was surprised that Sue was willing to try this. She never has felt comfortable around open water. The rocks were as slippery as they looked. The suggested footwear was sneakers with no socks.
Our guide’s name for the excursion was named Philippe. His reply to almost any statement or question was, “No problem.” A group of us were driven by van from the harbor to the falls. We stopped once or twice. Philippe told us to get out and “take your lovely shots.” I did not have a camera, but I was happy to stretch my legs.
When we reached the falls, we formed a single-file line and held our neighbor’s hand tightly. Several people were to scared to try the ascent, but even Sue managed to get all the way to the top.
Sue took several photos of this and our other stops, but I have not been able to locate them.
The excursion took a few hours. After lunch Sue and I walked into town. I still had my beard and could have easily been mistaken for Tommy Chong’s younger brother. At least three times I was approached by people who offered to sell me marijuana. There were a lot of souvenirs on sale there. I might have bought a postcard or two, but no souvenirs.
I think that we took a second excursion in the afternoon, but this may have been in 1986. In any case we went green-water rafting on Martha Brae (MAR tuh BREE), a very slow moving stream. Our guide for this adventure was named Nigel.
The rafts were made of bamboo. They had seats toward the back for the passengers, but the “captain” stood in the front and directed the raft with a long pole. According to Sue our captain’s name was Tony.
The experience was very relaxing, but I don’t think that very many people would do it twice. On the road from Marta Brae to the harbor our guide pointed out a large dwelling by the sea. The house had belonged to Arthur Ashe, the famous tennis player who died in 1980. At least that is the way that I remember it. I could find no support for this on the Internet, but he had been dead for four decades when I googled it.
Most of the suppers had themes—Italian, French, Mexican, etc. Every meal was tasty, filling, and fun. The waiters and the other staff members dressed for the occasions. There was also music, and the waiters marched around and waved to the people at their tables. It was very festive, and, in my opinion they managed to make it fun without too much kitsch.
The third stop on the cruise was in George Town on Grand Cayman. Unlike most other islands in the Caribbean the Caymans are NOT mountainous or even somewhat hilly. They did not appear on the horizon until the ship was almost there.
The islands have an interesting history. They were discovered by Christopher Columbus on his third voyage. No evidence of an indigenous population has been discovered. For years the islands served as a haven for pirates. They have been a British territory since the middle of the eighteenth century. They have never had income, wealth, or capital gains taxes. We heard the story that the British king issued a decree that England would never tax them because he was grateful to the colonists for saving one of his family members.3 We did not learn about the slavery. When it was finally abolished in 1833, 950 Black people were enslaved by 115 white families.
In the eighties the Caymans had not yet earned renown as a place to hide dodgy funds. We were surprised to learn that the country had more teletype machines per capita than anywhere else on earth. In fact, even by then there were only two sources of income there—tourism and tax evasion.
The contrast between Ocho Rios and George Town was striking. Jamaica seemed like a very slow and backward place that had a few interesting attractions. The people all seemed devoted to selling knickknacks of no utility. Nothing had a fixed price. There were only a few stores. Transactions generally took place on the street.
George Town, on the other hand, was a clean and modern town. No one tried to sell anything on the street. I did not feel as if I had to keep my hand on my wallet.
There was not much to do in town if you were not interested in buying duty-free jewelry. I think that a snorkeling excursion was available, but it did not interest me that much. I probably would have enjoyed it, but I knew that when I left the water I would be shivering for a half hour or so.
If there is a ship in port, 7 Mile Beach is never this empty.
The spectacular beach by George Town is seven miles long. The hotels jealously protected their portions. RCCL had an agreement with one hotel that its passengers could hang around at the beach. That was good enough for me. After a once-around in the town, I parked myself on a towel on the beach and read a book.
Sue has always been averse to both sun and heat. She spent most of her time in Grand Cayman nosing around the shops.
The ship made two stops in Mexico. The first was at Playa del Carmen, which is south of Cancun. About half of the passengers departed from the ship in Playa. Of those most went up the coast to the resort town of Cancun. We joined the group that had signed up for the excursion to Tulum, an ancient Mayan city located about fifty miles to the south.
We had been warned by the cruise directors about the street vendors in Playa del Carmen. As soon as we set foot on land we were all set upon by people selling stuff, mostly extremely low-grade silver jewelry. It was a little difficult even to make it to our buses.
I have a few pretty clear memories of Playa Del Carmen. It seemed like a very poor town to me. Very skinny dogs roamed the streets. No one from our ship considered stepping into one of the stores. Based on the photos that I have seen on the Internet, I would guess that things have improved there at least a little.
The bus ride to Tulum was hot and boring. I think that they served Mexican Coke on the bus. The land was perfectly flat, and there were almost no towns at all. There appeared to be lots of trees, but none grew very tall. Only a few locals could be seen, and they all seemed destitute or nearly so. We saw very little traffic.
I don’t remember the town of Tulum at all. Apparently it has become a tourist destination in the intervening years. It certainly was not on anyone’s bucket list in 1985.
I remember the area just outside of the ruins. Flimsy booths were set up so that some of the local people of Mayan descent could sell things. I seem to remember that the main thing that they sold was cloth. There were no souvenirs.
The ruins area was, I am pretty certain, surrounded by stone walls. On the other side of the walls was jungle, not like in the Tarzan movies, but a sea of trees, none more than twenty feet high. On one side from the top of the wall you could see the sea and a lovely beach, but there was a cliff between the wall and the sea. Waves were smashing against the rocks. The beach did not look inviting that day.
We did not have a guided tour. We were told to meet back up at a particular time.
The big attraction was the temple in the middle. I climbed all the way up to the top and looked around. It was pretty impressive. We had already been told about the carvings of the “descending gods” that festooned the temple and some of the other buildings. Some people have taken this as an indication that the Mayans had been visited by extraterrestrials, who created these stone cities for them.
The ruins area was not very crowded. Almost everyone there was from our ship. That has no doubt changed in the intervening years.
From Tulum we drove up the coast to Xel-Há4 (pronounced shell-hah), which is a beautiful lagoon. I think that we ate lunch there. I don’t remember much about this place, but it had some facilities.
After lunch most people took a quick dip in the lagoon’s waters. I don’t remember if I did or not. I doubt it.
The bus then returned us to Playa del Carmen, where we took the ferry to the island of Cozumel. By that time it was the middle of the afternoon, and it was extremely hot. In those days, however, I could stand just about any amount of heat. I decided to walk by myself into the town of San Miguel, a resort town that was a mile or more from the harbor. Sue shopped at little stores on the pier.
There was not much to see in San Miguel. A goodly number of the ship’s passengers were enjoying drinks in a bar there.
I was happy that I made the journey. I got a little exercise, and I saw dozens of iguanas of all sizes. I stopped to watch them several times. Some were large enough that if they had made aggressive moves I would have been frightened. They mostly just sat on rocks, and they were all grey. Nevertheless, I felt the pure sense of joy that I have always seemed to feel whenever I unexpectedly encountered wild animals in their native habitats.
The last leg of the cruise was a long day at sea sailing past Cuba back to Miami. I am pretty sure that it took two nights and one day.
One of the highlights of the trip for me occurred on that last day. The cruise directors had announced that if anyone had purchased something at one of the stops and could no longer remember why they did so, he/she should bring the “white elephant” to the staff. They planned to hold an auction to try to regain something for the disgruntled purchaser. The auctioneer was very talented. He invented provenances and romantic attributes for each item, no matter how junky. Most of them were sold, a few at a profit.
Here are some other things that I remember from the 1985 cruise:
I went with Sue to a line-dancing class. She participated. Of course they taught “Achy Breaky Heart”, but there were not enough cowboy hats to go around. I watched for as long as I could stand it.
There was a midnight buffet every night. Since most passengers gorged themselves at all three meals and got little exercise on this cruise, I was surprised how popular this was.
The Viking Crown Lounge was one of the highest points on the ship. It was pretty much de rigeur to visit it, have a drink, and gaze at the horizon. We did, but only once.
There were very few children on the cruise. The cruise staff formed them into a club and arranged activities for them. For the most part the kids were invisible.
The cruise staff also organized activities and games at poolside almost all day long. I found them annoying. I wanted to read. Nevertheless, I was embarrassed that they stumped me when they asked who sang the hit song, “Winchester Cathedral”. It was the New Vaudeville Band. I should have remembered it. It was released in late 1966, when I was at Allen Rumsey House. If, God forbid, it had been on our juke box, I probably would have known it. I did not listen to Top 40 music in Ann Arbor.
A small newsletter was pushed under the door every day.
I think that our room had a TV. After we left Miami it showed only short films about RCCL, the ship, or ports of call.
The cruise staff conducted an orientation class about each of port of call. I went to most of them. They were not well attended. The guy giving the one on Ocho Rios emphasized that the town was a good place to purchase some straw if you needed any.
Sue went to some of the shows at night. She has always loved live entertainment of almost any stripe. I might have gone once.
Sue and I both had a great time. The trip itself was both relaxing and entertaining. I liked the fact that I had absolutely no responsibilities. Sue liked being able to set her own pace. She probably would have preferred cooler weather, but it does not really ever get cool in the tropics.
The timing was perfect. When we left, we were both grouchy with cabin fever. When we returned, it was almost time for Sue’s birthday and, shortly thereafter, spring. We promptly called the travel agent—another common occupation that has almost disappeared in the intervening decades—to go on essentially the same cruise in the following year.
The Viking Crown Lounge at night.
The second cruise was similar, but not identical. We flew non-stop to Miami again. We were met by the RCCL people again. They did not misplace our luggage this time. After the very first stop the schedule was almost identical.
The interior of the Viking Crown Lounge.
Over the winter two big things had happened at RCCL. The first was that the Song of Norway won all of these awards from World Ocean and Cruise Liner Society: Best Food, Best Crew, Best Housekeeping Service, Best Dining Room Service, Best Cruise Staff, Best Ship Activities, Best Shore Excursions, Best Overall, and Ship of the Year. They had sweatshirts made that bragged about that last one. Travel Holiday Magazine also named RCCL the world’s best cruise line.
The other big development was the purchase by RCCL of an isolated peninsula on the north side of Haiti5. The name was Labadie, but the company changed it slightly to Labadee. Our ship did not go to CocoCay in 1986. On the first day of our second cruise, the Song of Norway became, I think, the first cruise ship to visit Labadee.
Before we landed the ship was boarded by heavily armed Haitian soldiers. I don’t know what their function was, but they were more than a little scary. As far as I know, however, they did not interfere with any of the planned activities.
Tthe local citizens apparently knew that we were coming. A dozen or so rowboats surrounded us as we landed. Each contained two or three of the local people. They were trying to sell their art work. Their boats do not look at all seaworthy. These people were just doing what they could to survive a very bad situation.
None of that development was there in 1986. A clearing for a picnic and volleyball had been established, nothing more. The real world was on the other side of those mountains.
The time on shore was pleasant enough. There was not much to do.6 There might have been some hiking paths, but most people dared not venture too far from the picnic area.
Our experience here was remarkably similar to the one on CocoCay a year earlier. In fact it is difficult for Sue and me to distinguish between the two occasions.
We met our companions for supper after we returned to the ship and cleaned up. They were a couple from Long Island. Sue remembers that he owned a chain of garages there. I only remember that he ordered seconds of the main course at both meals that we ate with them. After that they arranged to join the first seating, and we ate by ourselves during the remainder of the cruise. I can’t say that we missed their company.
It was definitely never this bad.
The seas were a little high the night after we left Labadee. Many passengers got seasick. Sue felt a little woozy, but she did not get sick. I wasn’t bothered at all, but walking in the hallways was something of a challenge. The creaking sound that occurred whenever the ship rocked was rather spooky. By morning it was smooth sailing for the remainder of the cruise.
Sue and I decided to do something different in Jamaica this time. We signed up for a trip up in the hills to an old “estate”. I did not remember the name of it. Several of these places still offer tours, including Brimmer Hall, which is the only one that sounded at all familiar. I remember that it was a long drive through very hilly country. This was the first time that it occurred to me that islands in the middle of deep seas almost have to be mountainous.
Sky Aquarius: “We should love animals, not eat them, Jim.”
They definitely served us lunch in the plantation house. One of the offerings was goat, and I was courageous enough to try it. I would not say that it was delicious, but at least I did not get sick.
It was a worthwhile excursion if only for the fact that it got me to thinking about the geography, history, and sociology of Jamaica. The truth is that in the eighties I would never have thought of a vacation as a time to learn about other countries. I was just charging my batteries.
I knew that Jamaica had been a British colony. I did not know that in 1838 England abolished slavery, but there was never anything like reconstruction and no distribution of assets. It was more a case of “Take these broken wings and learn to fly.”
I don’t remember what we did in Grand Cayman. We might have taken an excursion. I seem to remember something about turtles.
I did not think much about Grand Cayman’s sociology either. I don’t remember seeing many Black people, certainly nothing like in Jamaica.
Ixnay on the imbingclay.
The one excursion that we repeated was the one that featured Tulum and Xel-Há. We were a little disappointed. The area of the Tulum ruins was considerably more crowded that it had been the previous year. Also, visitors were no longer allowed to climb or walk on any of the ruins. I suppose that it is only reasonable to take every effort to preserve them for posterity, but it was still disappointing.
I remember a few other things about the 1986 cruise.
We did not fall in love with our waiter this time. He was nice enough, but I don’t even remember his home country. The waiters (I don’t remember even one waitress or cabin stewardess on either cruise) were from all over the world.
I have few memories of the other passengers. I do remember one fellow with whom we talked a few times. His wife never left the ship. She shopped for jewelry in the ship’s store.
On both trips the official photographer took lots of photos of us. They posted them in one of the public areas of the ship. The only way to get them to remove your photo was to buy it. We bought a couple on the first cruise, but not on the second.
The only obnoxious part of the cruise was the semi-mandatory tipping. The maître d’ and the sommelier both appeared at our table for the first and only time at the last supper before it was tip time.
We could not afford to go on vacation in either 1987 or 1988, but in 1989 …
1 .In 1977 RCCL took the Song of Norway out of service, cut it in two, and added a large new piece in the middle. This feat increased the ship’s passenger capacity by 40 percent. The ship’s fuel consumption was only slightly increased, and the seaworthiness was not affected at all. The ship was sold in 1996 to another cruise line. Over the next few decades she changed hands and names several times before being sold for scrap in 2013.
2. RCCL subsequently invested hundreds of millions of dollars in this island and turned much of it into a gigantic water park for its customers. It is now officially called “Perfect Day at CocoCay”, which makes me think that the company pronounces the last syllable like the letter “K” rather than like the word “key”. An aerial view is shown at the right.
3. Wikipedia says that this story is not true. The evidence cited is here.
4. The area that we visited is now called Xel-Há Park. It still has the lagoon, but it also offers a water park, a buffet, a zip line, and other diversions. The website is here.
5. Haiti was in the middle of a coup. The ruler, Jean-Claude “Baby Doc” Duvalier, had fled to France on a plane supplied by the U.S. on February 7. He had named a commission to govern in his absence.
6. In the twenty-first century there are plenty of activities available on Labadee. A list of them is in an article posted here.
