>The Crossing is going well so far. I don’t really notice we’re at sea, as I rarely go ashore anyways. There are a bunch of construction workers onboard, much to the quiet amusement of the crew. The construction workers are from all over the world, and they are the same the world over. They are here to renovate the Asian specialty restaurant, changing it from a Wolfgang Puck theme to one of the famous Japanese chef Nobu.
The crossing is buffet heaven for the band. They wake up just in time to eat at 1:15 every day.
One of my jobs onboard is to provide background music for all the rooms. This is a tough job but kind of fun. I like to pick the background music out and I take it quite seriously. I think there must be a real art to background music designing. It has taken me hours to carefully select the music that I feel is appropriate for each room. The problem is, there’s no official background music sent from the office or anywhere. I just have to come up with it myself. I guess I am the official music censor. The problem is, everyone who wears any stripes thinks that they are the official music sensor as well. One day I came into the office to find all my CD’s in a pile on the desk. The Bosses Boss was mad. This was not the approved music, he said, as he slammed the CDs down on the Bosses desk. “Stacey, did you approve this music?,” the Boss asked. “Yes”, I said. Well then it’s the official music, says the Boss to his Boss.
One of my projects for this crossing is to put new playlists on the Ipod played at the hamburger bar. Now, it’s the hamburger bar, up on the top deck, by the pool, with an ice cream bar, and that leaves a lot of room for different styles and different playlists. The Ipod has taken me 6 hours already as I have to listen to each song individually and design different playlists. I am not finished yet, but I picked a mild classic rock playlist for the casual dining last night.
The Bar manager saw me in the evening, and was mad. “Did you design that playlist?” Yes, it’s just a test one, I’m not finished yet, I said. She complained that the song Roxanne came on during the casual dining and it was most inappropriate.
Now, I don’t know if she’s living in the 80’s still, but “Roxanne” is now a classic. It’s probably 30 years old by now. It’s not too upbeat and it’s not too offensive, unless you listen to the lyrics “selll your body to the night..” I decide to leave it in. There’s really no pleasing them, and they should have more important things to do than to pick on my background music. This morning the Captain was eating his breakfast on in the Lido. “Change the music,” he complained, “it’s not the approved music..” It was only my selection of easy Beatles classics as played by a reggae band. They changed it back to Richard Clayderman with Strings. “Who does he think he is?” I complained later in the elevator. I went down to my cabin to burn a temporary country CD for the American Buffet. I notice the song “Save A Horse, Ride a Cowboy” in the mix. I leave it in.