The Flower Power Cruise: Old Bands, Old People, Old Music
My wife said, “What’s wrong with her?”
“I don’t know. I don’t think it’s PMS - she’s way past the “M.”
“Well,somebody must have kicked her cat.”
But really, it was the law of averages. I suppose when there are a boatload full of old people, a few crabby ones are inevitable.
And when I say boatload, I’m not kidding - because we were on a ship, aptly named the Flower Power Cruise.
If I had to describe it, I’d call it “Woodstock on the Water.” Only with better plumbing, significantly more food, and legal prescription medication.
This cruise is a floating jukebox. Over the course of a seven-day trip through the Caribbean, nearly 50 vintage rock-and-roll acts performed for several thousand seasoned, adoring fans.
Simply put: it’s old bands playing old music for old people.
And business is booming.
If you like sixties and seventies music sung by groups like Tommy James and the Shondells, The Animals, Chicago, or Blood, Sweat & Tears, this is your Super Bowl. And it quickly became mine.
It’s all music all the time. From 10 a.m. until the wee hours of the morning, there’s rock, pop, and occasionally someone who sounds like a karaoke singer in a Holiday Inn bar.
For goodness’ sake, even the elevator music plays songs from the ’60s and ’70s, performed by the original artists. And there’s nothing like gorging yourself at the buffet while hearing Paul Revere and the Raiders sing “Hungry."
This cruise has a different vibe because it’s not about the destination - it’s all about the music. I’m convinced we could’ve circled 12 miles off the coast of Miami all week, and as long as the bands kept playing, nobody would complain.
I averaged over four concerts a day. And even though the majority of the people were great, I learned when you have about 3,000 people between the ages of 68 and 131, there are going to be a few minor problems.
Some of them do not like to wait in line. Some of them do not like to be inconvenienced. Some of them do not want you wearing big, floppy hats that block their view of the stage - even though they were wearing one. And some of them absolutely do not like you talking at all during a concert.
So, occasionally, that peace-and-love stuff that’s preached from the stage is thrown overboard. I saw it firsthand when some Baby Boomer tried to cut in front of a little old hippie lady in a concert line. I thought Woodstock was about to turn into WrestleMania, complete with a flower child throwing elbows.
The talent was quite good, even if some of them were a bit long in the tooth. There were a couple of lead singers with more wrinkles than an unironed cotton shirt.
But here’s the thing, and this is why it works. It’s nostalgia on steroids. It’s 3,000 people who all know the words to the same songs,the same tunes, the same guitar riffs. For a few minutes, you’re not thinking about your cholesterol, your knees, or where you left your reading glasses.
You’re 17 again.
You’re in a car with the windows cranked down, AM radio cranked up, singing at the top of your lungs with friends who are still alive and sitting right next to you.
And when 3,000 people on a boat start singing “Crimson and Clover” together, it’s not just a song, it’s a time machine. A slightly out-of-breath, off-key time machine, but a time machine nonetheless.
That’s why the cruise sells out.
That’s why there’s a three-year waiting list.
And that’s why people keep coming back - because for one week,the music still sounds the same…even if we don’t.
It’s fun to sing the songs that were the soundtrack of your life, and try to still dance to them - which at our age means standing up, swaying, waving your hands, shouting “Woo!”… and then sitting back down before you strain something.
It’s not often that I begin my week singing “Mony Mony” and end it with “In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida.” But that’s what happens when you’re on the Flower Power cruise.
And even if I did get shushed once, it was still peace and love y’all.
#FlowerPowerCruise
Comments
Post a Comment