Cruising With the Clan

Cruising With the Dies Clan

Our family is so far from normal it would take China’s Five hundred meter Apeture Spherical Telescope (FAST) just to view a glimpse of somewhat normal, but normal is boring, so we really don’t give a fuck. We do things our way, we’ve been through rough waters, way over our heads, but we always emerge unscathed, eventually.

Right before the world was to end in the year 2000, the parents decided to take us all on the Mexican Riviera Cruise, my sister Kittie and her husband John, Matt with his wife and three kids and myself and my four little rebels. I don’t think the parents knew us all that well, for most everything but booze was free, so dad gave his credit card to Matt and me, oops.

None of us except my folks had ever been on a cruise and we partied like it was 1999, which it was. Matt and I were in heaven, the food was beyond delicious, I didn’t have to eat vegetables and I ordered steak and prime rib pretty much every meal. We’d stay out until three or four in the morning and by eight that same morn, we were getting buckets of Corona’s poolside. Our kids though were a pain in the ass.

Night two I found Katey at the bar, she was sixteen so what the fuck, but she was surrounded by what looked like the cast of Top Gun, and although I trusted her, I figured I better introduce myself, so they knew the sheriff was in town. Both Matt and I walked up, introduced ourselves, and noticed six shots of tequila sitting in front of her. I calmly let them know this wouldn’t suffice, so Matt and I took all six shots and reminded them we were watching. They scrambled like their coifed hair was afire. Katey wasn’t happy, but we were both buzzed so I didn’t give a crap. We left her alone with her beer.

Melissa, Katey, and Matt’s daughter Mallory were a major nightmare. The bartenders served them without reservation, and Mallory was thirteen, sure a mature thirteen like there is such a thing, but we found all three of them in the clubs, drinking and dancing the night away. Matt and I would herd them, put them in their room and head back down. By the time we got there, our girls were already back. They must of had a shortcut, we weren’t dilly-dallying.

Matt and I walked into, as I can best describe it, a parlor, to find my fifteen-year-old daughter Melissa getting her picture drawn by some young Leonardo DiCaprio wanna be, right out of Titanic, and the young man had purchased them a bottle of nice champagne, which of course Matt and I walked away with. Melissa’s face was redder than her hair, but she was more than pleased when we finally left.

Matt’s daughter Mallory was thirteen and she too had a young man trying to woo her fancy, and Matt walked up behind him and whispered something in his ear. The young man was probably seventeen or so, inappropriate in my brother's mind, and we never saw that fella again. Mallory was beyond pissed and I finally asked Matt what he said. “I just reminded him, my daughter, is thirteen and this is a rather small boat to hide in”, he disappeared like the wind.

My youngest daughter Kelly was a month older than Mallory but she wasn’t allowed in the big girls club, so she hung between the three boys and the girls. I did however find her spinning on a bar stool on her stomach like it was a merry-go-round, which gave me a smile until I watched as the bartender brought her a daiquiri. She pretended to act cool and drink it like an adult, but after spinning in circles on the barstool you couldn’t put that horseback in the barn.

The boys were thrilled to be in the pool playing for hours and Matt was smart enough to bring army men and we played with those for hours in their room, setting them up and shooting them down with rubber bands, boys are so much easier than girls.

Somehow the girls got their swarthy hands-on dad's credit card as well and took an array of professional photographs, with enough makeup on, that the ship floozies were jealous and Matt and I used it every night at the adult club. It was a hoot, at least until dad had to sign off on the bill at the end of the week-long trip. He barked a bit after signing off on $1200, but we figured that was only two bills a night, not bad. We had no idea the girls had cut into ‘our’ drinking money.

My older brother Rob missed out on the trip, I actually found out tonight, because he was a few weeks into sobriety and he’s now surpassed twenty-two years, I’m proud of him! I personally haven’t had a beer in two nights now, but I’m getting bored as fuck up here, so we will see how long that lasts. I’m sure Matt’s running about even with me.

The parents have both now passed but they left all of us with some great memories, I miss them dearly. The memories are so vivid I can conjure up their faces, the smiles, the laughter, the love. They did a wonderful job keeping us as far away from normal as they possibly could, some may think that bizarre, but they gave me great material to write.

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