Once I went on a cruise with 3 friends. I always theoretically disdained the idea of a cruise. So cheesy, so tourist-y, so…well, you get the idea. But the fact remains: I went on a cruise with three friends and we had some crazy fun.
The thing I loved was this: We went on Holland-America because it’s all oldsters. Fuck Carnival or any of those lines that cater to “young people.” I don’t want that. I want:
- no screaming kids (or screaming anybody, really. Except me—I reserve the right to be the Screaming Guy)
- lots of quiet oldsters
- many many interesting conversations with above-mentioned oldsters
I may have to come back with some cruise stories. but the thing I was waxing about today was the prat fall. For some reason, I was addicted to this around the time of my cruise. Probably because I was in the company of Jason, a friend and one of my favorite physical comedians of all time.
Anyway, the ship, of course, was gi-normous. And around its hulking gi-normousity, my favorite activity, undoubtedly, was wandering with a drink in one hand and a smoke in the other. Looking for a piano. And there were pianos all over the place. My dream come true. Even now, I want a drink and a smoke and a piano just thinking about it. (these days, I’ll have to settle for a drink—some eggnog—since I quit smoking and my piano’s in storage.) The decks and decks and promenades and promenades…these ships are very nearly cities on the water. Most everywhere—especially the lido deck—there were miles and miles of teak loungers, exactly like this.
And we would just be walking around—like ya do— and I would come across a run of unoccupied teak loungers. And the temptation would be irresistible to… TRIP AS HUGELY AS POSSIBLE ACROSS AS MANY CHAIRS AS POSSIBLE.
I would approach my target casually, continuing the conversation at hand. Uh-huh…oh, sure! Hey, I totally agr—blam! crash! tumble! And then there I was lying across the top of of pile of wrecked deck chairs.
We’d set them back up—kind of like bowling pins—and continue on our way.this was a nearly sure-fire recipe for nearly deadly peals of laughter.
And so, today’s lesson: the Prat Fall. A wonderful way not to take yourself to seriously (because you will be laughed at by strangers), and entertain others at the same time.
Inspiration and recollection credit to the great Jules— Vettro, Professor Emeritus.