Not a Moment too soon.

A great cruise director once told me that it was important to marinate in the moment in which I am living.  Now I must be honest and say he didn’t use the word ‘marinate’, it would be to…’artistic’ for his liking and considering that he is constantly wearing three day old underwear, he won’t be making bids at Christie’s art house any time soon.

He is right; however, at times I don’t live in the moment. I remember when I used to live in the moment. I remember being in the moment every second of figure skating practice or interpretive dance lessons in which my dad made me practice in the garage with the car running.

I remember when I used to live inside every moment when I was working at KFC. It was a job I remember fondly as it was KFC that instilled a great work ethic in me. I had just been fired from the local Dairy Queen, which was ironic as I thought Dairy Queen was the mother ship calling me home, and so going for an interview with KFC I was a wee bit gun-shy.  I really wanted KFC to like me enough to hire me so I thought what better way to secure my triumph then to bring up the word ‘chicken’ as often as possible throughout the interview. It went something like this:

Tracy Vokins (Manager): How are you today, Calvyn?

Me: Just Clucky. (What does that even mean?)

TV: What is your best asset?

Me:  my need for chicken. (This showed her I wasn’t a vegan)

TV: what is your weakness?

Me:  fried chicken basked in 12 secret ingredients. (This showed her my love of the KFC product)

TV: What do you do for fun?

Me: Chicken Catch. (LIE, but it showed her I was not a member of PETA – I am one now)

TV: are you available weekends?

Me: Do chickens fly? (Trying to show her I was fluent in the Chicken’s behavioural habits)

YV: I… don’t really know.

Me: I’m available weekends.

This launched my many years making above minimum wage as well working with all seniors when I was a junior was so cool because I had no friends in high school (my mother once told me Rosemary had a better baby) and now I was having the cool seniors saying hi to me in the hallways.  

Because there was no need for me to advance or be promoted, it was easy to live in the moment. I can still remember my first car. I was suited up in my maroon (maroon is a deep red/purple for those of you who are not familiar with the color wheel) low thread count shirt and polyester pants dividing the two was my battery pack and I pressed the call button:

Me: Hello welcome to Kenfucky Fried Chicken,  my name is Calvyn how can I help you?

Car: Hey how many pieces come in a ten piece meal?

Me: I think it’s nine, but let me go check. (I was already saving the company money)

Car: ‘k I’ll take that.

Me: Would you like any hot gravy for your fresh fries (I was not required to put in descriptive words, it was my version of the mint on the pillow).

Over the years I got very comfortable with my job. Sometimes I would tell customers that we were out of French fries, but we have German Fries standing at attention.  Other times I would convince the cars that we ran out of chicken, but we managed to get our hands on pigeon.  I always got in trouble for the pigeon prank, but it was so worth it because in the moment it was hilarious and who would really believe such RIDICULOUSNESS and complain about me? The one Latvian family that lived in my town, that’s who!

At present, I am still living by Tracy Vokins’ words “treat everybody how you want your mother to be treated” and I do… most of the time.  Take having a guest throwing their sail and sign card at me when leaving the ship yesterday and telling me to go ______ myself. Well first of all, my mother would NEVER say such a thing, so in such a case I let my wit take over and simply stated “that’s why I’m learning yoga ma’am”. 

But at the end of every day on the ship, I dream of being something greater within the helm of Carnival Cruise Lines. I dream of taking the Cruise Director Chair and leaving my mark on a ship. Dreaming is good, but it takes you out of the moment.  Sometimes I get so focused on advancing I become very intense, I forget to share a laugh with my team, or dance my interpretive dance – ‘The Lifecycle of a Leaf’ as if no one is watching.

So maybe what I will begin doing is do something every day that is just so ridiculous, I have no choice, but to be in the moment. Maybe tomorrow I will sneak into the captain’s quarters and hide under his bed until he is sound asleep and then pull myself out with my arms and say repeatedly in a shaky Katherine Hepburn-esque voice “My legs! My legs! Give me back my legs!”