Lost as Sea

By the time you read this I will be somewhere in the Caribbean. I doesn't matter where. As exciting as it may sound on paper, I have seen this part of the sea many times before. The ports of call are all the same, selling the same stuff to what looks like the same people. Only my sea soaked friends who occasionally find themselves in a similar situation will truly understand.

Oh and forget the idea that a cruise is full of old people on the "see Jamaica and die" tour. The average age is no longer that old perhaps as low as mid- forties. However, the average weight has increased to about 600 pounds. It is now the "eat Jamaica and die" tour.

Ultimately this is a mortgage payment for me, not a vacation. I love performing, that is what I do, it is my job and I'm blessed to get the opportunity to ply my art. It brings me great joy and I never get bored entertaining a crowd. But those brief moments on stage are book ended by long hours of solitude away from home. I say it over and over, "I do the show for free, but you have to pay me a lot to get me to board another plane."

I got an email from performing ventriloquist friend who shares my distrust of the TSA. It seems his puppet case arrived completely repacked by the screeners in a way that could have damaged his instrument. They had not sealed the latches nor attempted to leave the case in the same manner it was when they effectively vandalized it with and inspection.

As I told him, they are just doing their job keeping us safe. They will quickly point out that there has never been a plane high jacked by a ventriloquist dummy since the TSA has been in charge.

As you were,
Jay