I grew up in the 80s which meant all of life’s big
problems could be solved either in 30-60 minute increments or by some elaborate
big scheme. The first time I watched Animal
House, it wasn’t the parties, the boobies (though very nice), or even the toga
party that stuck with me. It was the death mobile tearing through the streets
and wreaking havoc on the squares from Faber College. As I wrote in the now
famous proposal blog, “I love it when a plan comes together.”
Ramming Speeeeedddd!!!!!! |
As I grew older, I found myself surrounded but not only
very good and intelligent people but also quite a few characters that grew up
with similar sensibilities. Back when the Big Guy was with us, we’d all gather in
Savannah and the best part would come in the evenings. We’d settle on the deck
facing the marsh. Many beers met their demise on that humid spot as we’d
entertain ourselves by telling stories and smoke cigars.
The Big Guy would chortle and laugh in convulsions as we’d
share some of our infamous antics like the time Rags convinced the fraternity
to hire strippers for rush (Sensitivity training, anyone?) Or the time Nick
drank 13 shots called an oatmeal cookie which resulted in him throwing up so
badly that Nick’s left eye looked like Sigourney Weaver in Alien 3. Or the time everyone showed up to the annual Quantrek camping
trip at Edisto to find Gid and I about passed out with pink stained lips. We added
a pint of 152 to a Strawberry Shortcake Pre-Mixed cocktail. It may sound like a
bad beer commercial but good friends equals to some pretty fun times. Looking
at Facebook today reminded of one of the greatest moments we ever pulled off. The
Infamous Bad Tux Formal Night of the Parrothead Cruise of 2000.
No one can hear you wretch in space from too many Oatmeal Cookie shots |
It’s a pretty funny story. We had all moved up to the Atlanta
area after college and gotten involved in the Atlanta Parrothead Club. Our
buddy, Brent, had started an annual Parrothead cruise through the Caribbean. Of
course it would be rude not to go and we did.
This particular cruise line hosted a series of formal
nights during the course for the week. Over 200 parrotheads would be
intermingled with the variety of characters that ordinarily spend a week
cruising the high seas. After a viewing of Dumb
and Dumber, I suggested to Gid and Rags how we should show up in horrible
tuxes for this event. The idea snowballed as you can see.
I always knew this would be good for a few laughs. What I
underestimated was just how much of a surprise this would be to the rest of the
Costa Victoria Cruising Community. See, some people take the night of the
Captain’s Dinner as a that just right time to break out the furs and jewels
usually reserved for the safe. I looked at as an excuse to wear my black Chuck
Taylor high tops with my spats. Nowadays when I describe this evening, I usually
use the comparison of it being one of those Three Stooges shorts when they go
to a High Society Ball.
The Captain’s Dinner starts off with a champagne/martini
reception in one of the classier ballrooms. Enter Eight Parrotheads not afraid
to shop on Ebay for formal wear. Three fourths of the guest couldn’t stop laughing
and even kept having us pose with them for pictures. Some folks even thought we
were paid entertainers to keep the party going. One-fourth was not as amused. Enter
Ragsdale.
Jeff Ragsdale: Family Man, Statesman, Threat to fish everywhere |
This one lady had a serious stick up her ass about our
entrance. Rags overhead her complaining about our lack of decorum and
disrespect for the sanctity of Captain’s Night to her poor, overtaxed husband.
He seemed like a decent Joe whose only crime was making the mistake of saying “I
do” to Greta the Wonder Bitch.
Rags love to poke the bear especially when he has had a
few. Being a cruise taken in the honor of Jimmy Buffett, all of our blood alcohol
levels would have been classified as jet fuel. Rags saw his moment and took it.
In his best Mr. Mooney voice, Rags struts up to the lady
in question, “Pardon me, ma’am. Mind if I join you?” I could almost hear Rags
saying, ”Yesssss” to Lucille Ball.
Greta the Wonder Bitch responds in a manner that is only
egging on Rags.
“It’s a free country.” Greta snapped. I almost groaned fro Greta. She
was setting herself up for the inevitable torment that Rags was about bring
along with some noise and some funk.
Now, keep in mind how this is a cocktail party and
reception. In addition to all those cute waitresses wandering around with trays
of champagne and martinis, the cruise line also provided the traditional finger
food and snacks expected at any cocktail party. About every two or three table
would sit small bowls of Spanish peanuts. Rags saw that Greta was stationed
perfectly.
Rag’s moment to strike and he played it like an old vaudevillian
comic with perfect timing. “Pardon me, ma’am, could I trouble you for a nut?”
Again with the Mr. Mooney voice.
At that moment, Rags
selected a Spanish peanut while attempting to peel the red skin off it then
proceeded to eat it like corn on the cob,
It was quite the sights and even Greta’s husband began to
snicker. Greta was not amused. She grabbed her husband by the arm. And growled,
“Well, I never.. Come on Charles.”
Exit Greta from our lives forever except through the
passing of this tale. May her bitchiness live on..
The rest of the evening was a blur of laughs, double
takes, and shots bought by amused fellow cruisers. At one point, our picture
was taken with the Captain. To this day, I can’t tell if his confusion was due
to the language/cultural barrier, our outfits, or a combination of both. All I
clearly can remember is waking up the next morning with a serious case of the brown
bag flu.
I love my friends and all of our wacky adventures. Even
though I could hear the Big Guy saying it was a rip off to buy photos from the cruise
line, I sprang the five or ten bucks for it. It still hangs in my room to this
day. Once while teaching Sociology, I even used it to explain how social mores
work.
Kings of the World 2000 |
A few years ago, we lost the gent in the Captain’s Hat. Monty
was not only a character but a classy guy. He is missed. The world seems s a little
smaller without his huge and exciting personality. Monty brought style and class to everything he
did. Once he made a Bloody Mary for me and it took him thirty minutes because
he used over thirty ingredients.
Fortunately, I have been lucky to keep in touch with
the rest of those guys. A few of us even
made a pact to wear those tuxes at our rehearsal dinners. A waiter at the Atlanta
Country Club bought Gid and I drinks for an entire because we had the balls to
do so. .
We have all settled down now but the tuxes are not
mothballed yet. Every now and then, opportunity strikes. Gid wore his a few
times to the Jimmy Buffett concerts. Rags dusts his off and uses his for his
Sunday School Classes. Last spring, I took Kim to the High School Prom where I
teach. The theme was Mardi gras so I felt festive enough to share the magic of
the tacky tux. We had a blast. It’s nice to know that over ten years later this
might be the best fifty bucks I have ever spent.