Well, the strangest “it’s a small world” event of the cruise was the very last night, talking to a trombonist kid who was playing with a hot little quintet in the Ionian Lounge. We hadn’t heard them before, and I was throwing around my Famous Jazz Blather® (which routinely leads to the question: “Do you maybe want to sit in with us for a song?” which leads to the answer from me: “You don’t want that, trust me.”)
Anyway, I tell this kid I’m from Kentucky and he notes that one of the musicians in the show band is from Louisville. Cool, I say, not thinking much of it. Then a few minutes later the words “trumpet” and “Chris” are uttered and I get this funny fealing and blurt out: Wait—are you talking about Kris Eans?! The guy says YES. I just about fall out of my chair, and it wasn’t from the Martini I was drinking; Kris is a casual friend, but also the younger brother of Greg, a high school classmate of mine, and Kevin, my old photo-buddy, who sort of taught me everthing I know back in yearbook class and now works for USAToday!
Upon departing, I made the savvy packing decision to bequeath Kris and wife Nicki our room party lights and remaining supply of Bombay Sapphire (sob) and a bottle of Irish Cream. And I’m well aware that when you and your spouse’s cabin is about 9′ x 9′, the standard response to being given a bag of stuff is gee…thanks.
Kris! See you in Louisville!