That word means different things to different people. To the rock’n'roll crowd it means driving around in big American 1950’s cars, to the gay community it means ‘looking for trade’ (sex). When you reach your dotage, like myself (62) and my mother (93 next week) it is more likely to mean going on a sedate sea cruise, but let’s not knock it. Frankie Ford sang about it, Kyle Esplin is making his fortune out of them, and hey, it can be fun. Something like an up-market holiday camp with entertainment, as much food as you can eat, and you get to see different places from your balcony or porthole as your trip progresses. (He hasn’t mentioned ‘Hello sailor!’ I hear you say, but after three cruises the nearest I’ve got to a gay romance is a few gay and lesbian meet-ups at a bar on deck on the American ship last year. Out of many thousands of passengers, a pathetic handful turned up - at one time there was just me and this lesbian, I think two others turned up later. And not a sailor in sight!)
So this will be my last blog for a while. Don’t know if any of you still read them, but I’ll be back to Praise Marx and Jerry Lee. Meanwhile heading for the Med on a British ship this time. Got fed up with Americans with their strange vegetables, and having to sit at meals for two hours whilst they gorged their way thru 3 or 4 starters, a main course and then 3 or 4 desserts! Any Americans reading this, butter beans are yellowish, not green. And they are bean shaped, not oval shaped. Don’t know what those strange veg were Americans insist on calling ‘butter beans’ - never seen them before or since. Apparently the British name is Lima beans, but I’ve never seen them on sale in UK in stores or restaurants. Anyway, they are certainly nothing like ‘butter beans’.
But what do you expect from a nation which calls ‘courgettes - zuccinis’, ‘bread rolls - biscuits’ and ‘jam - jelly’?