Charming or Tedious: A Senior’s Guide to Winter Cruising

We weathered another Christmas, and now the earth’s tilt away from the sun exposes us to short days and nippy temperatures. While children return to school and workers to their routines, we seniors often escape the dipping mercury on trips to lower latitudes where the sun isn’t bashful. The cheapest way to get there is on a cruise ship, and oh does the Medicare crowd know it. So, to enhance your next sailing, I offer my fellow seniors these observations and suggestions.

You’re paying less than half of what the room alone would cost at the Ritz in Grand Cayman, so adjust your expectations accordingly. Your shower isn’t equipped for sharp turns, and you may encounter some lines. Griping about the inevitable isn’t your best look—and don’t be fooled by polite nods; they are just assessing your tip percentage.

If you like to gamble and can afford your hobby, enjoy yourself. If you eschew games of chance, keep it to yourself. You may have to hold your breath as you pass through the smoke-filled casino, but remember that their losses keep the prices down. It’s like state lotteries. I never complain when waiting for some optimistic soul to buy Powerball tickets because they paid my daughters’ college tuition.

Of course, you will interact with others. Oscar Wilde contended, “It’s absurd to divide people into good or bad. People are either charming or tedious.” This dichotomy may not satisfy divine standards, but it resonates with us mere mortals. You may fall short of charming, but you need not be tiresome.

 Never mention weather to northerners. They obsess about atmospheric conditions and proudly recite the grim statistics of their forlorn existences back home. I’m only surprised they don’t prepare colorful PowerPoint presentations to illustrate their climatic misery. 

Only an accident of birth separates the person who is drinking the piña colada from the one who is serving it.

Be nice to the staff, and remember: only an accident of birth separates the person who is drinking the piña colada from the one who is serving it. Strike up conversations with the multinational crew. You might learn something about the 17,000 islands that comprise Indonesia or enjoy the heartwarming stories of their latest visits to their distant families. These conversations are much more compelling than Fred and Jane’s travails with their HOA back in St. Louis.

When asked where you’re from, reply “Atlanta.” Unless someone knows the area, locating Peachtree City will require several paragraphs of irrelevant verbiage that is not currently appreciated and will not be remembered five minutes after you say it. Just consider that you don’t really want to know where on the mitt the Michigander lives. If she doesn’t live in Detroit, does it really matter? You’ll consult a map of Michigan about as often as you’ll check the weather in Tibet.

Feel free to clog your arteries at the ubiquitous buffets, but don’t clog the hallways. There’s no shame in slow ambulation—I’m never the first up the hill—but you can restrict your ambling to the right side of the walkways so the able-bodied can pass. 

Those using wheeled walkers might notice the flow of traffic before abruptly halting or hanging a sudden left. Motorized scooters can avoid creeping up on the unsuspecting, and there is room for only one of these power chairs on a standard elevator. Don’t be the one insisting we can squeeze in “just one more” while the doors repeatedly refuse to close.

We’ve made decisions all of our lives, so why are some of us dumbfounded at every choice now facing us? Determining whether to pull the lever for vanilla or chocolate ice cream shouldn’t require the time it takes to select a Medicare plan. Perhaps we might contemplate the options before approaching the machine.

And speaking of choices, your dermatologist has doubtless cautioned you about skin exposure to the sun. Well, Ole Sol isn’t the only reason to take cover. 

The physical shift from concavity to convexity as we age owes much to skin elasticity and a touch of Newtonian physics. In our first two decades, “newelastic” skin holds body fat neatly in place. By the third decade, that elastic begins to tire, and after that it is hopelessly stretched.

Newton’s second law then joins the party, mercilessly accelerating the newly unbalanced mass downward. The evidence appears when men repurpose their belts from holding up trousers to supporting stomachs. So, gentlemen, when near the water, keep that snarkycaptioned T-shirt on—for the sake of both the sun and your neighbors.

In the end, cruising is simply a floating reminder that we’re lucky to still be here—sunburns, buffets, balky knees and all. If we can charmingly laugh at ourselves, treat others kindly, and move to the right side in the hallways, we’ll make these winter escapes as pleasant as a Caribbean breeze.