Royal Caribbean's Brilliance of the Seas fall 2016 transatlantic cruise went from Barcelona, Spain to Tampa Bay, Florida 15 to 30 October. On sea-days, story teller Jim "Mule" Parker delivered 7 presentations, 8 hours total, on a wide variety of topics; danger, hope, humor and Jimmy cracked corn and I don't care, plus other topics of pressing interest. The Mule also looked at a dozen or so unique, interesting international characters he's known and the fixes they've gotten into. .
June: The 6th month of the year named after the Roman goddess Juno, the goddess of marriage and the wife of the supreme deity Jupiter.
There was a lot going on June 2015… Like, little rug rats got out of school to return to quiet neighborhoods and terrorize the seniors.
In England Pertertide was a religious coming of age in June.
It was Tourette Syndrome awareness month especially significant because I know that the Tourette syndrome explains why liberals talk the way they do.
June was also African-American Music Appreciation Month, Caribbean American Heritage Month, Gay and Lesbian Pride Month (which is puzzling what with June being named after the institution of boy/girl marriage), Great Outdoors Month, National Smile Month and National Oceans month.
In June you had your International Men’s Health Week, your National Famine Commemoration Day, your Seersucker Thursday, Queen’s Birthday, National Dairy Goat Awareness Week, your take your dog to work Day, your Inventors’ and Rationalizers’ Day, your St Peter’s Day and, with God as my witness, you had Petertide.
Andy Griffith was born in June, as was Angelina Jolia, Jim Nabors, Prince Philips, Kellie Pickler, Kenny G, Boy George, Donald Trump and Mike Tyson.
June’s birthstones are pearl, alexandrite and moonstone. The birth flower is rose. The zodiac signs for the month are Gemini (until June 21) and Cancer (June 22 onwards).
With all this happening, Brenda and I made our own plans to get in the swing of things too. Actually the end of May for us was spent in large measure getting ready for June, and our goin’ and doin’ lasted through the 5th of July.
We have come to call this period – for lack of any better way to express it – the 2015 Grand Parker Petertide.
Was recently in email conversation about islands off-shore accessible from Trat in Thailand. As the thread bounced around between 7 addees, talk got on boats… here are my thoughts.
People who like boats are among your best. Spendthrifty and wrong-headed, yea some of that, but basically they have a sense of the outdoors, adventure, fun and are almost always a likeable lot.
Experiences on boats make a difference in living an ordinary life or living life large. That may be true of people who own small planes, I don't know, but people who own boats get after life in a way others sit home and think about it.
In these pages way back December 2013 I started the story of my trip to Nicaragua with two life guard buddies – Lamar Cope and Bubba Kepley – in the fall of 1962. That’s # 16 in these Rants and Yarns. That first story was mostly about Lamar fighting a losing battle with his super-handsome hammock in a rain storm down by a snake infested stream deep in the heart of Mississippi. Story went on in # 114 to talk about our famous coward guard-dog puppy that some barroom bum said we’d need once we got south of the border – although actually what he advised was for us to get a mean ol’ junk yard cur. We ended up with the puppy because Bubba felt sure God intended for us to have that particular worthless piece of dog meat… that we tried unsuccessfully to make mean with gas station attendants and gun power. # 114 ended with us in a crater lake high over San Salvador, where a mother’s prayers saved a wretch like me.
You got to understand too, that we three were in our late teens, early twenties, without a clue, making our way to a country on the verge of a revolution.
In the early fall of 1962 Bubba Kepley, Lamar Cope and I drove to Managua, Nicaragua from Myrtle Beach, South Carolina in a 1950 Willis Jeep and trailer. Our first big adventure was a rainy night down in a snake infested Mississippi creek bed.
Two days after that death-defying bit of bad judgment we were in small town in east Texas. After parking the trailer in a local RV park, we headed to a beer joint wearing our Myrtle Beach evening-out clothes: madras Bermuda shorts, polo shirts and loafers without socks. An old codger sitting next to me at the bar volunteered that we looked queer, a sentiment he thought bar customers would probably express in a more Texas way when the regulars began to arrive within the hour.
We thought the old codger probably knew best about what was acceptable east Texas attire so we paid for our beer and as we were starting to leave, I told him that we were on our way – driving a jeep – to Central America.