Last night was calm. Tonight's even more calm, but last night was calm. Brady and I spent some time apart to collect ourselves and I feel it was necessary. We got back together and decided to hit up the late night Mexican buffet. I keep tricking myself into thinking that the food isn't awful. It is. Back to the cabin to call it a night. Sleeping was just not in the cards at that time. Restless and lower backs in inconceivable pain Brady and I decided to stay up a do what our friendship is based on... talking about Rock'n Roll well into the morning. Dokken, Rick Springfield (sort of), Kurt Cobain (as usual), but mainly The Rolling Stones. I had no idea The Rolling Stones meant so much to Brady until this trip happened. Which, to me, is very surprising. We end up talking about music almost every time we hang out with each other (which is not a bad thing, nor does it get old). We also touched on a few other subjects, LSD, conspiracy theories (I can't get away from this subject, it follows me like a Jamaican peddler.), and shamanism. I never thought I'd leave Jamaica a shaman, but here we are. I don't really believe myself to be a shaman, but, what Brady described to me as to what a shaman is, or how to become a shaman, rather, is almost exactly what we have been doing to ourselves with the song "Pass the dutchie". It was a weird conclusion to come to, but we're weird people.
I think I ended up sleeping for about for about 10 hours. Not too out of the ordinary for me, but I needed it. My body was sooooooooo sore. I could barely get out of bed. It was about 2:30 pm, island time, and we had about an hour to see what Grand Cayman was all about. We didn't find out what it's ALL about, but we did meet some nice ass people. Unlike Jamaica, the people don't hassle you until you angrily hand them a few bucks. They present what they are selling and if you say "no thanks" they kindly leave you be. A coconut man explained to us that the Cayman Islands don't have the poverty issues that Jamaica does. Which you can easily tell if you aren't blind. Literally blind. Grand Cayman is very pretty and seems to be constantly expanding. Construction cranes and the like. That being said, people from Grand Cayman don't need to hassle you for money like the Jamaicans do. I'm not trying to be harsh on Jamaica and it's people, but it is completely different from the story book version and "Cool Runnings."
After Funky Tangs, we had about 15 minutes and 10 blocks to get back to the ferry to get back to the boat and on our way back to America. We made it. Awesome. While in line for the ferry, we made small talk with about 7 middle-aged women who referenced the musical "Grease". Grease reference count on the trip so far: 3. They were nice ladies. Back to the cabin. I slept for a couple more hours. Woke up just before Brady walked in from eating on the Lido Deck. By the way, As Brady said, "The Lido Deck is where IT goes on". That's where the shit goes down. Food, movies, documentaries about Rick, air guitar contests, you name it they've got it. Anyway, he told me they had some not so bad food, leg of lamb, mint jelly, beer battered fish. It was the best food the boat had to offer. Like I mentioned, the food on this boat has been... not good, and this was the best they've given us. I scarfed it down, grabbed a cup of coffee to take back to the room to enjoy with a cigarette and an ocean view. Watching the ocean from the balcony is still my favorite thing to do on the boat. Well maybe drinking is. They're both pretty rad and when you do them at the same time it's like a ménage à trois for the senses.
So, I think it's about nine o'clock. I'm not sure what to do with myself. I haven't ingested any alcohol today. That needs to change. One more cup of coffee and one more cigarette, then some kind of alcohol.
Cheers!
Post script: This is Brady's blog. Read it. It's too good not to. http://heyhomieyourdicksonfire.blogspot.com/
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