A Supposedly Fun Thing to Do, Almost

So sad about David Foster Wallace. He's been on my mind.

A friend of mine, Charlene, somebody I like to think of as just like me. (This is silly - she's a tall blonde Mormon bombshell, recently divorced, loves living in Phoenix, and runs marathons. I like the cool fog of San Francisco, I am most certainly not blonde, I'm married and I think that walking is plenty fast enough, thank you.)

Anyway, she's got this gig teaching keyboard lessons to people on cruise ships. She told me about how she got to go on these cruises and that I should do it. Yeah, I thought. That would be great. I could take Evie on a cruise. Charlene says you have to be sure to be really social so you get a high rating and you're invited back. I'm social. I can be charming. I was sure it was a great way to get a two week cruise of the Italian Riviera.

So I emailed the woman at Yamaha. She sent me the forms. I downloaded and printed them. Five pages of forms with lots of description about how your guest would still have to pay their own tips and that alcohol wasn't included. I tried to fill them out.

Then I realized, I'd already been on that cruise. I went with David Foster Wallace  when I read his A Supposed Fun Thing to Do and there was NO way I was going to ever going to actually go myself. I knew what a cruise was about and it wasn't about anything I wanted to be a part of. Maybe Alaska, but even then it was iffy. Still trying to be positive, I started to file the application for future use. Then I realized where it needed to be filed;There it lies in the land of the recycled - where all cruise information should be.

David Foster Wallace. Rest in peace.