Sunday, April 26, 2009

Jo, Then-and-Now



Thank you, Cheryl, for a great blog post idea.

Jo was one of the dancers I grew close to during our first contract on board the Fair Princess. I believe she may have the been the one to re-christen the tiny and outdated ship as the 'Fair Bucket.' At nineteen, she was the youngest in our cast and I was the oldest, at age 26. We shared a special bond during our seven-and-a-half months at sea.

That bond was almost ruined at the very beginning, by me. I was physically attracted to Jo right from the start, during rehearsals. How could anyone not be, with her blonde hair and blue eyes? Back then, I was still involved in a support group for ex-gay ministry. I still thought it was realistic for me to pursue relationships with women. I could very well have made things very awkward for Jo and me.

Thank God I didn't. We were suitably matched in our friendship, the baby of our group, and me, the biggest kid-at-heart. When I remember Jo from back then, I think about how we bounced around the comfy love seats of the ship's show lounge during late night rehearsals, behaving like naughty children jumping on the bed. I picture her dancing in the rain on the back deck as the ship was leaving the humid port of Cartagena. We had been caught in a sudden and welcome cloud burst and instead of ducking indoors, most of our little group just let the raindrops soak our white cruise staff shorts and polo shirts. We were silly with happiness, and so we danced and jumped up and down in the rain, like young children.

At night, with neither smog nor city lights out at sea, we had an unblocked view of the stars on the back deck, right outside of our dressing room. Jo and I had shared a warm, wonderful evening between shows, staring in awe at the stars, contemplating the universe at large, and sharing whatever was on our minds and in our hearts at the moment.

I said good-bye to Jo in early '93, at the end of our contract. I still admired her lovely beauty, but I loved her like a close sister-friend, and I knew that I always would. A few years after that, I saw Jo and most of our cast mates at a friend's wedding in Scotland. It was a wonderful few days, but not nearly long enough.

Almost a decade after our trip to Scotland, Jo and her husband stopped by for a whirlwind visit in Los Angeles. We spent a precious few hours together, catching up over the course of one afternoon. We had a good laugh when we both confessed that we had each been mentally prepared for the other to have put on some weight and to have aged a bit. Neither of us had changed much, so maybe it was also laughter of relief - for our respective vanities!

I know I have gotten a little heavier since then. Recent photos are only too willing to prove that. I know that I look older too - I look like my mom! And I am okay with that. Jo, though, has still hardly aged, as we all saw at the reunion. She looks better, in fact. And she's still dancer-thin, and that's after having had a baby.

There's more to tell about Jo, but I'll save some for future posts. Like the time I was trying to amuse her with one of the classics from Kids' Greatest Hits:

Let's go on a safari inside my sister's nose
Maybe we'll find treasure like we did between her toes.


Jo did not laugh. She merely looked at the other girls and said, "I shall never again think of 26 as being old." Neither shall I, now that I'm in my forties.

Hee.

4 comments:

Chris said...

Yeah, age is a funny thing, Pete. Do you realize that our high school seniors were born in 1991?

How scary is that?

golfwidow said...

When I was a tiny kid, I thought my white-haired grandmother was twenty (because that was as high as I could count). She got a lot of mileage out of that with her friends.

Cheryl said...

Aw, you both look like youngsters!

quin browne said...

if i don't look in the mirror, i can actually believe i'm only 32.

until i hear my knees creak when i run up the stairs.