An Effective Tool Box for Life

I won't to get some things off my chest.  I was a solid employee when working on ships.  I was an exceptional pianist, although at that time I didn't understand that politics was more important than musical ability.  They didn't care if you could play.  They cared if you would make waves in the band and on the ship.  I learned this lesson over time, but several events stand out in my mind.  Until the drunken captain of the Costa Concordia ran his vessel aground entertaining a woman on the bridge, safety was not the biggest concern of a cruise company.  It was in place, and although most ships may have not been ready for a real emergency, it is unlikely a guest would perish while sailing on a ship.  I was trained in lifeboat safety, but after the incident in Italy all companies tightened their grip on safety responsibility.  Suddenly musicians were required to become sailors, and the accompanying training ensued.  I went down in the lifeboat every week, manned the oars, manipulated the hooks, and stowed the boat when the drill was over.  Before the Costa Concordia boat drill was more an inconvenience than a priority for members of the Crew Staff.  The Crew Staff were different than the regular crew, did more intellectual tasks, and made more money.  During drill there were a handful of things you needed to remember.  I made the mistake once of trying to be proactive during a crew drill when the United States Coast Guard was observing.  In the case of a real emergency or drill, you are unaware when this will occur.  You hear the horn, and its alert tells you to do a certain set of tasks to prepare for mustering of the guests.  The drills each week easily become commonplace, and when you are hundreds of miles from shore often they are relaxed.  On this particular occasion I wanted to be ready for the drill, since the Coast Guard was on board.  Mistakenly I donned my uniform and took my life jacket to a close location to my safety position, an assistant muster station leader on the starboard side of the ship.  I hid in a stairwell with my life jacket on to await the sound of the horn.  Subsequently I learned this action is frowned upon, but expressly the Safety Officer wants you to be limber and mobile in your response to an emergency.  It should not take you long to leave your place of work, fetch your life jacket from you cabin or a nearby locker, and man your station.  They want you to practice this particular action.  I found it inconvenient most of the time, because boat drill often was directly before an afternoon rehearsal.  If you wanted to be prepared for your rehearsal, you needed to focus on this task, not mustering the guests.  In this case I overprepared and was waiting in a stairwell for the horn to sound.  Minutes went by and there was no drill.  I waited thirty minutes and still no drill.  My back began to tire from sitting on a hard steel step, so like a moron I laid down on the floor to rest.  Little did I know that safety personnel were observing the crew through the ship's closed circuit video system.  Over five hundred cameras had been installed to watch the crew.  Evidently they had delayed the drill for me, because my lackadaisical behavior of laying down on the job waiting for the real drill suggested I was drunk.  This is what they believed, and suddenly an announcement was made over the P.A. that asked me to arise from my reclining position.  I did so, as two crew members above me on the upper landing of the same stairwell laughed at me.  They did not try to explain what I was doing was a mistake.  Instead they watched the Captain make an example of me.  A security officer was dispatched to apprehend me, and when he arrived grabbed my arm like an intimidating police officer.  Where was I to go, and why would I run?  I was not intoxicated, merely tired from waiting for this drill.  I was taken to the Safety Officer's office, and quietly and simply I told them I was Assistant Muster Station leader and was waiting for the drill to begin.  My back got tired, so I laid down on the floor of the stairwell.  At first they planned to demonize my behavior thinking I was stinking drunk, because later I learned this exact thing had happened previously on this same ship.  When they realized I was sober and prepared to do my job, quickly the wind went out of their sails and the drill proceeded as normal.  I was required to receive a written warning for this snafu, and the Musical Director took literary liberty in saying I was laying "face down" or prostrate on the floor.  It turns out the varied nationalities of officers on these vessels require a certain kind of allegiance, and sometimes American doesn't satisfy the formula.  I became an asshole of course, but only because my behavior was misconstrued and taken out of context.  This happened more than once, because Americans were in the minority on most ships accounting for only four percent of total crew.  As you can imagine democracy was not a priority for Italian led ships.  It became apparent quickly that the tenants of Communism were rife within the walls of these foreign run vessels, and you learned quickly how to mold to their pattern.  It meant keeping your mouth shut, doing what was necessary, and getting your kicks privately and within your own sphere of existence.  For me this became skating and music composition.  The latter became a fruitful aesthetic for me, and I produced over four hours of contemporary classical piano music, some eighty plus works which at some point in time I will publish.  Skating became a necessary outlet for physical assertion and mental therapy, and yet as they observed this phenomenon over time quickly and ironically skateboards became prohibited items.  This was infuriating to me, and changed my opinion of the cruise industry for good.  On several ships upon which I worked, we had developed a routine where I had to wait several weeks then write the Safety Officer a letter asking if I could keep a skateboard in my own cabin.  Often after they understood I was a responsible adult, it no longer was a problem.  Eventually a decree came down through the ranks that all skateboards would be prohibited for good.  I went on a ship, they confiscated my stick, and told me it would be discard in two weeks if I didn't dispose of it.  This was a hand made custom designed cruiser of which I was extremely proud.  While the safety of guests is paramount, and irresponsible drunken crew member can be fools, this was over the line for me.  Skating and sailing became a team for me disembarking the ship and riding my skateboard to a local park for an afternoon of physical activity and enjoyment.  It would seem their desire was to quell my enthusiasm and recreational outlet much like the Nazi party demonized jazz music.  Freedom is aloof but invaluable for human happiness, and yet it still has become an endangered species.  Being sober is a tool against the man, possibly one of the most effective in your box.