His name was Jimmy Carter, and he rocked the Love Boat. Before I’m bombarded with peanuts for insinuating that our 39th president had a secret nightclub act, let me echo the immortal words of Master Yoda, "There is another."
I was 14 years old and wondering if I should vomit off the railing or into the orchid planter on board the Island Princess. The Pacific Princess was the crown jewel of the Princess Cruise line fleet circa 1983, and I was on its lesser known sibling. It was also billed as "The Love Boat," but there was no hot Julie McCoy to stiffen my loins as cruise director or any guest stars like the Landers sisters to leer at poolside. No, for a kid on Christmas break stuffed into a 7'x7' coach cabin with his mother and grandmother, leaping overboard was an hourly option to consider.
With not much to hold my attention amidst the grey-haired retirees and humping newlyweds other than ping-pong and vandalism, I was anything but the smiling guest star flirting with Captain Stubing's daughter, Vicki. I was the pissed-off extra in the background wondering why the goddamn show is so popular. That is, until a certain nightclub singer would change my view of the world forever.
The thrill of tossing patio furniture into the moonlit wake off the ship's stern dissipating, I realized that there had to be more for a young teen to do after hours. Luckily, I was cajoled by my mother and the other Hawaiian Tropic-slathered alcoholics to watch the evening's nightclub show, a male and female singing duo. The gal was a brunette drink of water who must have found fellatiating the ABC Daytime casting directors futile and threw her talents to the sea. The male singer made his mark the second he introduced himself.
"Hi, my name is Jimmy Carter and it's loooooove, exciting and new!" Then he launched into a medley of Barry Manilow, Neil Diamond and Fiddler on the Roof. With his pale blue eyes and curly blonde hair, he looked like Mark Hamill with an afro. It's easy to assume this guy was scraping the bottom of the career barrel crooning to vacationing stiffs on board a floating Christmas ornament. However, Jimmy Carter owned that stage. He charmed everyone with his sparkling showmanship and strangely enough, he liked hanging out with me after hours.
Now before you toss this into the NAMBLA file, Jimmy Carter was as straight as an arrow, and our interest in each other was puerile for sure but only in pointing our wicked sense of humor at the other passengers, particularly the very few hot women. In fact, the hottest woman on the ship was his co-star and he was nailing her. How do I know this? Because he asked me to keep watch outside his room while they went at it.
Turns out they both were married and apparently, the mantra for 1983 was what happens at sea on a Princess Cruise stays at sea on a Princess Cruise. As we relaxed on the lido deck (no, Isaac the bartender didn't make that term up), Carter told me of his plan to deflower his leading lady but needed it kept secret from the rest of the crew, such was the piety of the business even in the coke-fueled eighties. My curiosity of what 'deflowering' meant was answered with a condom reveal in his palm. "Ohhhh, now I get it."
So later that night, I stood outside a cabin while a certain set of performers went at it. Now I know it all seems so lascivious, particularly since this cruise ship lothario needed an adolescent accomplice, but the guy really was charming and had the whole boat smitten, including my mother. Had she ever found out that this guy confided his innermost sexual fantasies to her young son, I'm sure the Coast Guard would have found more than deck furniture floating in the surf.
Where is Jimmy Carter now? Probably downing Valtrex and wondering if 25 years of alimony payments merit forgiveness in the afterlife. If you're out there, Mr. Carter, I want to thank you for the hilarious memories. As the TV show's theme song says, "Welcome aboard, it's loooooove." Or at least a quickie between co-workers.
No comments:
Post a Comment