Naked Mom on Display, Men in the Night and Other Anxieties
Travel is about many things: food, more food, meeting unusual people, meeting usual people, seeing beautiful places and, of course the least remembered, never documented aspect of travel: anxiety. Did I pack the right stuff? Did I pack too much? Too little? Will I get there on time?
In Africa there were quite a few extra anxieties: Will I die because I drank that glass of water? Will I die because this bush taxi is driving around curves on the wrong side of the road? Will I die because this motorcycle is going to hit a […..]? Fill in the blank with any of the following: land rover, bush taxi, motorcycle, bicycle, bus, Peugeot, Mercedes Benz, cow, goat, sheep, chicken, child, adult, pothole, mud, quick sand, slow sand, etc. Will I die from a viper bite? From a cobra bite? From a mosquito bite? Will [amoebas, cholera, malaria, giardia, typhoid, encephalitis, meningitis, hepatitis] kill me? And the most terrifying anxiety of all: will I poop my pants on a public bus?
Traveling with Mom certainly does not rival Africa in terms of anxiety, but offers just a few extra anxieties that you would anticipate: will there be food when she needs it? Will there be a horizontal resting place when she needs it? Will she stay upright? For the most part, being on a cruise reduces these anxieties to a point where they are largely negligible. Quite unexpectedly, however, I have run into a new anxiety: Will Mom be naked in the middle of the room when I open the door?
As you might expect, I get up before Mom. While she sleeps, I go to Deck 12 and walk circles around the ship for an hour if we are at sea or go to the fitness center if we are in port. I try to guess when she might be almost ready for breakfast and high tail it back to our room for a shower. It is when I am standing in my workout clothes in the narrow corridor in front of our door about to slide my card into the door opening thingamajig that the anxiety hits me: is Mom naked behind this door?
Let me assure you that this anxiety does not spring from any sense of modesty or puritanical virtues on my part. It is from a much more pragmatic origin. When I put my card in the thingamajig, the extra wide door (for wheelchair accessibility) will immediately swing open and STAY OPEN FOR WHAT SEEMS LIKE FOREVER letting any casual passerby get a long and hard look inside at what could be a naked Mom standing in the middle of the room.
From what I have seen, everyone looks inside when they pass – it is a non-voluntary gesture as one passes an open door in a narrow corridor. I have experienced it myself. Despite my resolution to not look into someone’s room, my head snaps sideway as though on a spring release. I don’t blame my fellow passengers.
You might think that I could just shut the door behind me. No. Tried that. Doesn’t work. Door doesn’t move until it is damn well ready to move. It’s a lot like Linda in that way.
You might think this problem could be circumvented by simply knocking on the door, but remember, we’re talking Mom without her ears in – good luck communicating with her through a closed door.
My strategy instead has been to look furtively up and down the corridor. If the coast is clear, I push the card in and hope for the best. If there are others in the corridor, I fake like I’m searching for my key card until the potential voyeur has passed. It’s not ideal, and statistically speaking, if we were on this boat long enough there would be views, long, lingering views of naked Mom.
I had a close call early on when Mom was not appropriately attired and the door opened. Luckily, she was off to the side in the one place that was not visible from the wide open door. She seemed to be none the wiser about her potential loss of modesty. Tomorrow is the last opportunity for a Morning Full-Monty Mom. Hold your breath, cross your fingers and hope for the best.
Oh and did I mention the Men Who Come in the Night anxiety? I’ll have to address that in a later post. Mom must be ready after her nap. I gotta go down to our room and open the door.
In Africa there were quite a few extra anxieties: Will I die because I drank that glass of water? Will I die because this bush taxi is driving around curves on the wrong side of the road? Will I die because this motorcycle is going to hit a […..]? Fill in the blank with any of the following: land rover, bush taxi, motorcycle, bicycle, bus, Peugeot, Mercedes Benz, cow, goat, sheep, chicken, child, adult, pothole, mud, quick sand, slow sand, etc. Will I die from a viper bite? From a cobra bite? From a mosquito bite? Will [amoebas, cholera, malaria, giardia, typhoid, encephalitis, meningitis, hepatitis] kill me? And the most terrifying anxiety of all: will I poop my pants on a public bus?
Traveling with Mom certainly does not rival Africa in terms of anxiety, but offers just a few extra anxieties that you would anticipate: will there be food when she needs it? Will there be a horizontal resting place when she needs it? Will she stay upright? For the most part, being on a cruise reduces these anxieties to a point where they are largely negligible. Quite unexpectedly, however, I have run into a new anxiety: Will Mom be naked in the middle of the room when I open the door?
As you might expect, I get up before Mom. While she sleeps, I go to Deck 12 and walk circles around the ship for an hour if we are at sea or go to the fitness center if we are in port. I try to guess when she might be almost ready for breakfast and high tail it back to our room for a shower. It is when I am standing in my workout clothes in the narrow corridor in front of our door about to slide my card into the door opening thingamajig that the anxiety hits me: is Mom naked behind this door?
Let me assure you that this anxiety does not spring from any sense of modesty or puritanical virtues on my part. It is from a much more pragmatic origin. When I put my card in the thingamajig, the extra wide door (for wheelchair accessibility) will immediately swing open and STAY OPEN FOR WHAT SEEMS LIKE FOREVER letting any casual passerby get a long and hard look inside at what could be a naked Mom standing in the middle of the room.
From what I have seen, everyone looks inside when they pass – it is a non-voluntary gesture as one passes an open door in a narrow corridor. I have experienced it myself. Despite my resolution to not look into someone’s room, my head snaps sideway as though on a spring release. I don’t blame my fellow passengers.
You might think that I could just shut the door behind me. No. Tried that. Doesn’t work. Door doesn’t move until it is damn well ready to move. It’s a lot like Linda in that way.
You might think this problem could be circumvented by simply knocking on the door, but remember, we’re talking Mom without her ears in – good luck communicating with her through a closed door.
My strategy instead has been to look furtively up and down the corridor. If the coast is clear, I push the card in and hope for the best. If there are others in the corridor, I fake like I’m searching for my key card until the potential voyeur has passed. It’s not ideal, and statistically speaking, if we were on this boat long enough there would be views, long, lingering views of naked Mom.
I had a close call early on when Mom was not appropriately attired and the door opened. Luckily, she was off to the side in the one place that was not visible from the wide open door. She seemed to be none the wiser about her potential loss of modesty. Tomorrow is the last opportunity for a Morning Full-Monty Mom. Hold your breath, cross your fingers and hope for the best.
Oh and did I mention the Men Who Come in the Night anxiety? I’ll have to address that in a later post. Mom must be ready after her nap. I gotta go down to our room and open the door.
posted by Nancy at 12:49 PM
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