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Modern Day Pirates – Gulf Of Aden

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Nothing says “luxury cruise” like a gorgeous ship, exotic ports, world-class cuisine and lengths of barbed wire for fending off Somali pirates.

If you watch CNN, FOX or any of the major tv networks, you know that pirates are once again a fact of life – especially on slow news days.

Coming face-to-face with a pirate is every cruise vacationer’s worst nightmare: one moment you’re embracing your spouse at the black-and-white ball and the next thing you know you’ve got more than a little Captain Morgan in you.

With that in mind, it’s important to pay attention during the Emergency Lifeboat Drill at the very beginning of your cruise. Learn and memorize the basics: Four blasts of the ship’s whistle? Man overboard. Two short blasts followed by one long blast? Go immediately to your muster stations. Three short blasts? Johnny Depp.

The vessel in this photograph features a sophisticated, multi-tiered security system for fending off pirates. Barbed wire is only the outermost obstacle: pirates must also overcome a well-trained security team, shoulder-mounted rocket launchers and limited buffet service after two a.m.

The worst-case scenario is that you, an innocent traveler, will come face to face with a pirate. So what should we do with a drunken sailor? Whatever you do, be conciliatory. Congratulate him on the United Nation’s official recognition of “Talk Like A Pirate Day.” Share with him your dream that the pirate diaspora will one day come together and form a single nation where rape, pillaging and plunder are officially sanctioned (i.e., Yemen).

If all else fails, buy him a rum-based beverage and check with the cruise line to see if poolside bingo has been moved inside because of the rain.

Liquid Dispensers – Ensenada, Mexico

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Dear Hotel Motel Colon – When I first learned the name of your, ahem, motel – from my travel documents, I thought “These are people with a sense of humor.” I am referring, of course, both to the name of your motel and the people who booked my travel.

I want you to know that I appreciate the fact that you stock every shower in every room of your, ahem, motel with a dispenser containing three… liquids of some kind. Other establishments might be tempted to label each liquid – “shampoo”, “conditioner” and “body wash”, for example. But you seem to intuitively understand that guessing what I’m rubbing all over my body is half the fun.

Am I washing my hair with body scrub? Am I rubbing conditioner all over my skin? Is one of these actually a skin lotion for use after the shower? I take comfort in knowing that you have the answers – because I sure as hell don’t.

I also appreciate that by resisting the temptation to label each liquid you help to keep costs down for your guests. If I want luxuries such as fresh towels, clean sheets or a clue as to what I’m rubbing onto my noggin, I can always splurge and stay at a Motel 6.

Outsourcing – Kotor, India

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Let’s face it – millions of American jobs are being outsourced to India. Whether it’s customer support, manufacturing or textiles, Indians are increasingly doing the work once performed with pride by Americans. Take the snake charming industry, for example.

No one disputes that Americans can charm the sock off a snake. (If anything, it’s putting the snake in the sock where we don’t compete globally, but that’s another sector of the economy altogether). And American consumers know the telltale signs of an inferior snake charmer: multiple snake bites, crude marionettes in place of real cobras, etc.) The issue is not is quality, it is cost: how many Americans can be expected to earn a living wage mesmerizing snakes when millions of Indians will gladly do so at a fraction of the wage?

It’s not enough to “Buy American”. As a matter of principle, I hire exclusively Americans for all of my snake-charming needs. But that makes little difference when the flute parts are made in Bangalore, assembled in Mumbai and the snake is imported from God-knows-where-istan.

Restroom Icons – Venice, Italy

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Who doesn’t love Italy? Delicious food, world-class wine, open and engaging people – and such pronounced male peacockery that men require twice as many restrooms as women. And what about  that sign on the lower right? Does it mean there are restrooms for men, women and the handicapped in that direction? Or does it mean there is wheelchair access to the wedding chapel?

And why must the wheelchair on these signs always be so wildly-out-of-scale with its’ occupant? It’s huge, as if it’s the wheelchair version of the very first bicycles. Same thing for the Antebellum, Gone-With-The-Wind maternity skirt the female icon is always wearing. And where are her arms? Sure, it’s only an icon, yet that didn’t prevent the male icon from having arms. What gives? Maybe her arms are obscured because she’s holding down her Wimbledon-roof skirt, alà Marilyn Monroe in that famous photograph. Yet if anyone seems to be standing over a street vent it’s the male icon – notice the shoulder-width stance.