I'm the owner and captain of THE SHOW which broadcasts on Falls Cable Access CH14 and fallscableaccess.com. I'd like to offer my unique view of the Falls as a resident and, of course, as a captain in these wind-tossed times.
There are three things a captain doesn’t care for: lice, torch-lit mobs and lack of sleep. When the first two produce the third, you have trouble.
Things are quite busy aboard ship lately. We’re getting ready to shoot a new The Show and we need to get things organized: ship parts, dogs, moustaches, you name it! Ah, the smell of paint and the occasional squawk of a crewmember underfoot. This is fun stuff! Why, the nose hairs fairly bristle with excitement! So much so, we nearly missed Mother’s Day.
There are few things more peaceful than reclining above decks while the laundry dries on the rigging. Socks and sundries abound, undulating with the passing breeze. It is quiet and I am alone at last. The crew has been sent to fish from the lifeboat as it is being towed astern. They’ll be occupied, if not entertained while I entertain some solipsistic reverie. That's right - solipsistic reverie. Just look it up.
Rough day. The crew is settling in for the night, exhausted. A lot of running about above and below decks today. It's time for spring cleaning and taking inventory.
There seems to have been some concern over the whereabouts of the ship's trusty dachshund. Iggy, as she is known, disappeared shortly after our cook made a rabbit stew. The whole crew was worried. Earl was so upset he wrote a new song for his band, Earl Starlite and the Sunspots, called Where Have All the Dachshunds Gone?.
Well, here we are in Sao Paulo, Brazil. Carnival was exhausting, but we managed to retrieve Olde Zeke and his befriended mannequin. Zeke has taken to calling her Mary Jane, which I suspect has to do with Zeke not having his glasses on when he found the Made In Japan stamp somewhere on her person, as it were.
There's an old saying that bears repeating. So the saying goes, but that's not what we're here for or why I'm writing. Welcome aboard.
Life is difficult. Anyone with a few voyages past their bow knows this to be true. Trouble comes unbidden. We've been at sea for a week now and what we believed to be an approaching mountain range is steadily taking on the character of a blustering tempest: a dark, menacing phantom with a belly full of hail and hellfire.
Bright days and smooth sailing are a balm for an old salt. There's a tune whistling through the rigging as I negotiate the currents above and below. Although there's excitement in a squall and unexpected adventure roiling in the billows, I'll take a clear sky and a steady wind astern.