Thank you for visiting my “work in progress.” Please look past all the yellow caution tape and plaster.

Unmoored & Uncensored is the working title of a project that for me is a dream come true—a chance to work with my best friend and soulmate, my wife Leslie. 

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The following are a few chosen excerpts:

 “I saw Follies in London in the seventies and it was better then.”

            The booming New York-accented voice behind us was unwittingly sharing its owner’s opinions with his seatmates and us.

            “And then in the second act they…”

            Leslie quickly covered her ears. The voice boomed out from behind us again, this time apologetic, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean too…”

            Without either of us looking back, Leslie signaled that it was fine, that nothing more need be said. When the musical had ended, I turned briefly; the “second act offender” was a big man with dark hair and glasses who looked to be in his late fifties.

            Two weeks later, at the Bellagio in Las Vegas, I stumbled downstairs in my shorts and sandals for my morning cup of coffee at the Palio Café. And, just as I took my first sip of blessed caffeine, I heard a distinctive voice. I turned, saw: five guys in suits, one a large man with dark hair and glasses—could it be the same man?

            Underdressed, barely awake, I walked up to him. “Excuse me. Were you the guy, two weeks ago in New York, who wouldn’t shut up?”

            He was, but the story was to get stranger yet. He mentioned he was in the wine business, has a chateaux on Long Island, Palermo, and in Tuscany. If we were ever in town, we were to look him up. “It’s fate,” Filippo said, handing me his card.

            As I walked to the elevator I thought, “Leslie will get a kick out of this. Realistically, of course, we’ll never meet again.” And then I read his card, and my jaw dropped. I’d recently read through the Crystal Cruise brochure. Our upcoming Crystal Cruise has a “wine and romance” theme—lectures and presentations from a wine specialist and I’m guessing the romance part is based on the destination. Most Crystal Cruises have themes: Big Band; Film/Theater Festival; Mind, Body, and Spirit; Arts and Antiquities. To be honest, themes don’t do anything for me. I’m into the cruise itself. The only reason I read up on our theme is that I’m a big consumer of wine (a little too much at times) and I was curious to see if I’d ever heard of the company or the expert. I hadn’t.

            I headed back to the five suites.

            “Excuse me,” I glanced at the card once more, just to be sure, “Filippo, are you looking forward to the Mediterranean in two months?”

            And then his jaw dropped.

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This trip was the first time either of us had traveled to Spain, and we, good American tourists that we were, eagerly visited as many of Barcelona’s major cultural sites as possible. The Picasso Museum was eye-opening—who knew that Pablo had ever deigned to paint an apple to look like an apple and a person to look like a person? We both also enjoyed the National Museum and walking La Rambla (a long, wide street that every turista is supposed to traverse). For me, however, the cultural highlight was definitely the work of this architect chap named Antoni Gaudi.

            The Barcelona tour book advised us, “If you only have time for one sight you must see La Sagrada Familia by the famed architect Gaudi.” What I soon learned was that “Gaudi” is the origin of “gaudy”—as in my mom referring to our relative’s choice in furnishings as overly ornate and tasteless. Now, I’m not saying Gaudi was all bad—his absinthe-aided creations are much more interesting than an ordinary plain-Jane skyscraper—but to me, his stuff looks like it belongs in either a theme park, a cartoon, or a fantasy flick. Of course, I like all of above.

            Gaudi worked on La Sagrada Familia from 1884 until his death in 1926. This is an embarrassingly long time. Even more embarrassing, in the eighty-plus years since his death they’ve barely gotten halfway through the project. I can’t help wondering if maybe they don’t really want to finish the thing; it’s pretty freaky-looking with its massive pointy spires. A thousand years from now, when global warming has put La Sagrada Familia under 200 feet of water, tourists on submarine tours will probably see construction workers in diving suits desperately trying to finish the thing by 3150.