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A recap of all the musical goings-on, brought to you from somewhere between Miami and Costa Mayan Mexico.

 

BY LEE ZIMMERMAN

 

This year's cruise (Feb. 21-25) included Lyle Lovett, Steve Earle, Emmylou Harris, Brandi Carlile and John Hiatt... and those were just the headliners. The support acts would likely be considered first tier anywhere else - especially when the names include Robert Earl Keen, Buddy Miller, WPA, Darrell Scott, Shawn Mullens, Vienna Teng, Edwin McCain, Stephen Kellogg and Rachel Yamagata. Clearly, we're already breathless with anticipation. As Darrell Scott would remark later during his opening night set, "If this festival was held on land, it would be the best ever."

 

Day 1: Sunday, February 21, 2010

 

My wife Alisa and I meet our friend Dan and his bevy of four beautiful young women who have gathered at his apartment after winging in to Miami from various far-flung locales - Colorado, Oregon, Arizona and Las Vegas.  I'm immediately impressed; Dan's gathered quite an impressive crew of traveling companions, and the fact that he's a single guy immediately draws on a scenario remarkably similar to that cheesy reality show, "The Bachelor." Still, I'm a married guy, and in the first feat of endurance I'll endure in day one, I attempt to refrain from any action that can be deemed as being flirtatious, at least in Alisa's eyes. On the other hand, sucking in my gut seems somewhat mandatory. If you've started to keep score, those would be today's first and second concession to self control.

 

Dan and one of his guests grab a ride from a friend, leaving Alisa, three of the other girls and me, the sole remaining male, to take a cab to the port of embarkation. No sooner do we arrive than we find ourselves embroiled in a crisis. It seems Alisa has left her make-up bag back in the car which we've parked at Dan's condo. Because we're talking women's make-up here, any decision I'm mulling about whether or not we need to go back to retrieve it quickly becomes a moot point. The girls disperse and Alisa and I jump back in the taxi to retrieve the precious cargo.

 

Fortunately, Dan's apartment is nearby. Unfortunately, however, a simple $18 cab ride has escalated in cost to well beyond that otherwise reasonable figure and is now closer in proximity to $50. Obviously - and reasonably - Alisa foots the cost.

 

Arriving back at the port, we quickly join a burgeoning line of passengers waiting their turn to go through security. We're handed health questionnaires asking for two bits of information in particular - have we experienced any severe flu like symptoms in the past 24 hours - specifically uncontrolled bouts of diarrhea - and have we had any up close and personal encounters with anyone claiming to have swine flu... as if someone would approach us and happily announce, "Hey, guess what, I have the desly and contagious swine flu! Now give me a big wet kiss!"

 

Naturally, the answer would be a resounding ‘no' to both, even though admittedly, I'm trying to repress a cold and I'm gripped by sniffles. However, Alisa, for whatever reason, answers ‘yes' to both. Fortunately, I catch the error in enough time so as to avoid being quarantined. Acts of self control three and four then follow, three being the fact I restrain from telling Alisa she needs to start paying closer attention (in which case she's likely blame it all on me and embarrass me in front of everyone in the queue) and four, my need to refrain from sneezing so that the security folks don't actually think there's a guy on board who's going to infect the entire ship with some ghastly malady.

 

Luckily, fate seems to be on our side. A short time after we're checked in, the computers go down and there's an hour delay in boarding for those behind us.

 

As we make our way onto the ship, we're greeted by high-fives from Andy Levine, the head of Atlanta's Sixth Man organization, under whose auspices Cayamo and several other music-themed cruises operate. Andy, always an amiable fellow, engages in a brief exchange over the current pronunciation of ‘Cayamo' - whether its ‘KUY-YAMO' or ‘KAY-YAMO.' "Why don't you just call it ‘Fred'?" I suggest. Okay, not very funny, but it does elicit a chuckle.

 

 

As anyone who's ever taken a cruise before well knows, two of the biggest lures are the abundance of food - which in my case will further hamper any ability to suck in my gut in front of Dan's friends - and all the friendly folks from various Third World countries whose only aim in life seems to be welcoming the guests and appealing to them to have the vacation of a lifetime. We quickly indulge their desire by attacking the buffet line which offers an otherwise unwieldy combination of carved roast beef, hot dogs, sushi, pizza and various international fare. And that's just the appetizers! My plate alone would likely feed half of a small Asian nation.  What the heck - it's a whole hour and a half until dinner.

 

 

Oh yeah - there's music too!  We make our way to the atrium to catch the final couple of songs from Edie Carey, a sensitive singer/songwriter type whose mournful repertoire seems a somewhat curious way to kick-off the festivities. We're much more enthralled by Katie Herzig, who we initially encountered on last year's cruise.  Her music is instantly infectious, a combination of winsome material and a pliable vocal that propels her sweet melodies ever upward and makes them worthy of some clapping along.

 

 

Katie's set finishes just in time to scurry to our cabins where we find only one or our four pieces of luggage have made it to their destination. It's curious, we think. All of our suitcases were handed to the porter at the same time. Was my blue bag separated from the others due to bad behavior?  Suddenly we grow concerned about the fate our missing possessions. Clearly, a tie-dyed tank top and green cargo pants aren't going to be enough to sustain my wardrobe throughout the duration of this cruise. There are rock stars onboard! I gotta muster up some cool!

 

 

Still, there's no time to ponder that notion. It's time for the mandatory safety drill, the purpose of which seems to be watching fellow passengers lose their way to their assembly stations, giggling at how silly they look in their lifejackets, and watching while the crew patiently attempt to keep their charges from strangling themselves with the safety straps. Quite an educational experience indeed. We do, however, meet our neighbors, Mr. and Mrs. Stephen Judge, he being the CFO of our much beloved Blurt.  CFO in this case, stands for "Cash For Others."  In other words, he's the guy who decides whether there's enough cash in the coffers to pay humble writers like myself. I immediately come to the uncontestable opinion that Stephen is a guy I oughta be nice to.

 

 

After fulfilling our obligation to look like total boobs in front of the crew, we scurry to the Spinnaker Lounge to catch the first in a series of showcases. Spinnaker, of course, is nautical speak for "Scramble to find the best seat even if you have to climb over other passengers and spill your beverage on them as the venue in general admission, so good luck in finding two seats together." Or something like that. Fortunately we manage to plant ourselves on stage left in anticipation for Glenn Phillips' lead-off set. Phillips, formerly of Toad the Wet Sprocket, is now affiliated with an indie super-group of sorts, WPA, but here he's offering his only solo show of the cruise. A self-effacing master of instantly infectious melodies, Phillips has a lot of fans in the audience, all of whom indulge him as he tries desperately to keep his guitar in tune and not stumble over his lyrics.  Clearly, any missteps only add to his charms.

 

 

By contrast, Darrell Scott shows himself to be something of a perfectionist, given his nimble guitar playing and equally adept keyboard work. Singing in a soulful croon, he parlays an affecting blend of blues, ballads and an occasional cover via Johnny Cash's mournful "I Still Miss Someone." By now, I'm in a sleep-like state, but the music transcends my sudden exhaustion and sends me soaring with elation.

 

Still, we opt to forego Shawn Mullins' set for now and head up to our cabin for a quick nap. It's nearly 9:00 when we awake. After a quick but satisfying meal, we hurry to the Stardust Theater, the ship's major venue, for our 10:30 headliner show by John Hiatt. We arrive on time only to discover the concert is delayed an hour - to 11:30 to be precise - due to a back-up in the show schedule, which in turn, can be traced to the delay in boarding caused by the computer breakdown earlier. Stephen decides he's too exhausted to stay awake during the gig, but Alisa and I venture on, consoled by the fact we had a nap earlier in the day. We're rewarded by a superb performance, one which finds Hiatt's vocal -- as rich and pliable as molasses -- intoning a generous array of his standards - "Master of Disaster," "Perfectly Good Guitar," "Drive South" et. al. interspersed with selections from his brilliant new album, The Open Road. Equally entertaining are Hiatt's rubbery facial expressions which only seem to accentuate his deadpan humor.  "Thanks for staying up late," he says. "I know it's past your bedtime." As the show coincides at 1:30 AM, we know its past ours. We head to our cabin and collapse.  Day number one of Cayamo cruise 2010 has come to an overdue conclusion.

 

 

 

Day 2: Monday, February 22

 

Okay, so I'm exhausted.

 

For good reason too. Day Two of Cayamo has consisted of both a frantic afternoon and evening. Sure, this is a plum assignment, but being onboard a luxury cruise liner, stuffing oneself in the buffet line and then attempting to muster up the dexterity to dash back and forth between shows in various venues can be demanding. For all Cayamo offers - and trust me, it provides an abundance of riches for the true music enthusiast - it is not all that relaxing.  Taking advantage of all the music requires a great deal of planning and strategizing in order to catch every performer that's worth seeing - and frankly, that's the great majority of them. Consequently, the exertion in terms of sheer brainpower - something yours truly isn't always adept at - is enough to send one's energy level into overdrive.

 

Trust me on this too - providing these daily blogs means a certain dedication to a strict work ethic, all in the name of reporting an accurate assessment of the day's activities. So the first order of business this morning is meeting with our press rep/camp counselor/sometime baby sitter, Becki Carr, who does a fantastic job of steering half a dozen befuddled journalists through a course of action. For example, were it not for Becki and my wife, Alisa, these blogs might not even get posted. There are technical difficulties galore when it comes to trying to get an email connection from a ship, including all kinds of limitations that I couldn't begin to explain... except to say one when one forgets his user name on his personal email account, all the miracles of cyberspace suddenly fall by the wayside.

 

The first music of the day comes courtesy of a special "alumni show" featuring a one-off duo acoustic performance with Lyle Lovett and John Hiatt. While the two trade songs back and forth, it's their natural rapport that strikes the most distinctive chord. As someone would say later, the two may have invented an entirely new entertainment genre called "sit-down comedy."  It goes something like this:

 

Hiatt: "We don't know what we're going to play."
Lovett: "I was trying to guess what you were going to play. I've guessed, but I won't be able to tell you if I'm right until later."

 

Okay, maybe you had to be there.

 

Nevertheless, the patter isn't preplanned, although having just returned from a joint European tour the two mean have apparently sharpened their skills when it comes to trading zingers... and compliments.

 

Hiatt: "Did you have a good time?"
Lovett: "I had a good time because of you. You're a very nice fellow!"

 

Suffice it to say, the deadpan sentiment likens the duo to a kind of accidental Smothers Brothers. Consequently, as the crowd files out of the theater, most declare it to be one of the best showcases of the cruise thus far.

 

The afternoon is dedicated to getting up close and personal with several of the headliners via World Café sessions that are being taped for replay in early April, followed by mini press conferences attended by the artists and the small contingent of journalists onboard. They provide not only an ideal opportunity to ask probing questions like "So, Emmylou Harris, what is your favorite item in the buffet line?" or, "Hey, John Hiatt, did you ever get so seasick you actually barfed from the pool deck?"  I'm joking of course... it was Hiatt who was asked the first question and Emmylou the second...

 

Nah, fooled ya again!  Blurt would never give me this big-time assignment if they had to worry about the kind of questions I was going to ask the headliners. Then again, my editor probably figured I'd be able to remember my user name too. 

 

Consequently, what follows are some of the more memorable random comments of the afternoon:

 

 Alisa (Lee's wife): "I'm feeling woozy... I have to get some fresh air."

Me: "Damn it... I could swear I knew my user name!"
Alisa: "Gurgle, blurp, garoosh, blech... I may be dying here, but you're an idiot!"

 

Oops, I guess I turned my digital recorder on too soon.

 

Fast forward to some of the observations of the artists involved:

Robert Earl Keen: "Coming from Austin, I had a fear of Nashville. But what I am today is a direct result of the experience I gained there."

John Hiatt: "I don't write specifically for other people.  I don't know how. When I'm asked, I always end up doing poor imitations of other people's songs."

Emmylou Harris: "I love Cayamo.  It's such a great opportunity to sit in with friends. It's kind of like a cross between a festival and a prison break."

 

Buddy Miller: "I met my wife Julie when I was auditioning for a band in Austin. She said, ‘Don't hire that guy,' but they hired me anyway."

Keen: "I don't mind doing other people's songs. After all, I didn't invent songwriting.  And I'm sure not the only guy that's doing this thing.  I just want to do material I feel really good about."

Hiatt: "Bring The Family was a turning point for me. I finally had begun to get sober. I stopped drinking, I stopped doing drugs and all of a sudden I had a lot of time on my hands. I got out of my own way. Before, I had zigged when I should have zagged. So I figured I'd use all that extra time to create."

 

Harris: "I finally gave myself a raise a few years. It meant that I could work less and spend more time at home with my dogs."

Keen: "My favorite writers? Richard Thompson, Loudon Wainwright, Nick Lowe... I'd have to throw Norman Blake in there too.  And there's a new guy I think is really good named Adam Carroll."

 

Hiatt: "It's my nature to get restless. I have the billy-goat syndrome. I always want to know what's on the other side of the fence."

 

Miller: "What makes an album a Buddy record rather than a Buddy and Julie or simply a Julie album? The fact is, Julie's slow.  This last record started out as her record, then it was my record, and then ultimately it became both of our record."

 

Harris: It's hard for me to write. I have a terrible fear of the blank page, but I know I have to get past it."

 

Keen: "I think it was Emerson who once said, ‘Imitation is suicide, but self-imitation is worse."

 

Harris: "When I write a song, it has to pass the truth test. If I'm writing from personal experience, it has to encompass a situation that everyone can relate to. The lyrics have to have that truth to it."

 

Of course, insight is one thing, but the music also has to speak for itself. 

 

The three shows we saw later that evening provided proof of that point. Buddy Miller with Emmylou Harris as a special guest, proved that the man had lost none of his instrumental dexterity despite being sidelined by a heart attack and his subsequent triple bypass surgery. "I had no idea what it involved," Miller remarked at one point. "I told the doctors, ‘Fine, I'll have the surgery, but I have to be back on the bus when it leaves in the morning.'" Clearly a crowd favorite, Miller swayed the audience's emotions, not only through a superb performance, but also in giving them the joy of welcoming him back to Cayamo after last year's unfortunate absence. The show was further stoked by a surprise guest appearance from Shawn Colvin, a featured performer from last year's cruise who wasn't booked for any appearances this year. Nevertheless, by gracing the stage unexpectedly with Miller and Harris, the Three Girls and Their Buddy amalgam came just short of a complete reunion.

 

WPA's performance followed Miller and company in the Spinnaker Lounge, and the sight of the seven members onstage, including the Watkins duo, Sara and Sean, and steel guitar player Greg Leisz, elevated Glen Phillips' already amiable presence to new heights.  The band's mix of pop, roots and bluegrass makes for a remarkably seamless set and yields one sure standard - "Always Have My Love."  It's already a song on which they could rest their reputation.

 

Finally, we capped our evening with Emmylou Harris' headlining gig in the Stardust Theater. The ever-faithful Buddy Miller provided an ethereal ambiance, with songs such as "Pancho and Lefty," "Red Dirt Girl," and "Leaving Louisiana in the Broad Daylight" generally enhancing the sleepy haze we were quickly falling victim to.  Emmylou was superb, of course, but at the end of a hectic, action-packed day, the mellow vibe was kind of akin to the evening's last lullaby. Encore over, we headed straight for bed.

 

 

 

Day 3: Tuesday, February 23

 

 

It's gonna be another long day...

 

Try as I may, there's no sleeping in. For starters, there's the booming voice over the intercom that's suddenly managed to pierce the quiet sanctity of our stateroom. "Good morning, ladies and gents, and welcome to Belize." It's our cruise director, of course, who I'm convinced they've hired due to his cheery, charming English accent and not because he's aware that on these kind of cruises, people like to sleep in late and aren't especially anxious to hear a cheery, charming English accent - or any other dialect for that matter --- at eight in the morning. Okay, so going to bed at 12:30 AM the night before hardly qualifies for any semblance of rowdy, all-night partying... but as far as I'm concerned, it's close enough to qualify.

 

Regardless, Alisa is anxious to venture ashore, and our neighbors, the Judges, are game, so we dutifully shuffle over to the ever-accommodating buffet line, grab a bountiful breakfast and make our way to the point of disembarking in order to grab a tender to the mainland. It's a little disconcerting that the ship has opted to have a safety drill at the same time, one that simulates one might happen if suddenly the ship collides with an armada of Sudanese pirates, but we're assured that all's well and Sudanese pirates rarely, if ever, venture into this part of the world. We do make one stop on the ship prior, however -- that being the spa which Alisa scopes out as a place of refuge, just in case, said Sudanese pirates do defy the odds and attempt to take us all hostage.

 

That place is the ship spa (how many times have you read accounts of pirates coming aboard and demanding anyone remove the hot rocks - or is it hot coals? - from their backside in order to play hostage. Rarely happens, right? (Note: I never understood how hot rocks can cure any ills. It seems like these spas can say anything to that effect, and as weird as it may seem, still convince their patrons that it would cure their ills. I can almost imagine that if I go into a spa one day, there will be a sign advertising a grilled cheese treatment, wherein they put me, the spa-ee, between two giant pieces of seedless rye bread, pour American cheese over my naked body, and claim it's a cure for a hernia.)

 

In this case, the treatment that draws my attention is acupuncture, which of course is a commonly accepted medical practice, mostly among people who actually believe it can be painless to have up to four dozen needles piercing all parts of your body including certain nether regions that you're reticent to even touch yourself... in public that is. (Of course, speaking for myself, no part of my body is off-limits at this particular time of my life.) Even so, there's a flyer claims that there are innumerable symptoms that might make one a candidate for acupuncture, although one category draws my attention in particular. Should you suffer from persistent diarrhea, projectile vomiting, emitting noxious fumes and/or gasses, and a whole list of other stuff I simply couldn't bring myself to read, you then are a prime candidate for acupuncture. I mentioned to the spa hostess - all of whom seem to be oriental and speak slowly and reassuringly - that I wouldn't think that sticking needles into any person prone to explode, such as it were, might be a good idea. Yet, try as I might, I couldn't get them to see my point. "These needles are as thin as a hair and they don't hurt," one of the oriental ladies said in that slow, reassuring accent. Okay, whatever, I conceded, but if I'm getting the treatment and I hear there's also someone there who's come in demanding acupuncture to cure his or her persistent diarrhea, projective vomiting, or tendency to emit noxious fumes and/or gasses, I want to be an entire deck - or perhaps entire ship - away.

 

Fortunately, there would be no reason to worry about that particular dilemma. We were about to face an entirely different paradox on Belize itself. For those of you who are unaware, Belize has a number of national distinctions. For one thing, it's so crammed for space between Mexico and Central America, there's barely enough room to write the word "Belize" on a map. Seriously though, it boasts a number of national attractions - historical ruins, lush rainforests, unspoiled beaches. And it has the corner on the world's market when it comes to cheap tee-shirts that say "Welcome to Belize" in 150 different fonts, many of which have yet to be discovered by the outside world. Unfortunately, the tee-short phenomenon is the only one that we would personally witness. That leads to our second bit of educational trivia about Belize... that being the fact that the country's main industry, which happens to be pushy cab drivers hustling to convince the tourists that they offer the best fares when it comes to taking visitors to view the aforementioned treasures -- tee-shirts included.

 

"Hey mon, I'll take you wherever you want to go for $10!"

Hey mon, I'll take you wherever you want to go for $8!"

"Hey mon, I'll take you wherever you want to go for $5!"

"Hey mon, I'll pay you - just let me take you wherever you want to go!"

 

By this point, the only place I wanted to go was Detroit. In fact, I'm convinced that if the U.S. Marines really wanted to train their recruits effectively, they'd ship them all to Belize, and force them to run the gamut of pushy cab drivers. Those that made it three blocks without coming to a complete halt due to being seduced into taking a cab ride to see the ruins at Mata-Hari, or whatever it's called, would then be qualified for combat.  As for us, we simply lacked the endurance.  We fled back to the dock to seek the refuge of a local bar and proceeded to learn all we needed about the country's economy by consuming their locally brewed bear. Be assured however, that Alisa and I did get our lesson in international customs and geography all the same. We consumed said beers with our new friends, Chuck and Tracy, who happen to hail from Canada.  Having been on cruises before, I'm convinced Canada is the only place in the western hemisphere where pushy cab drivers are not deemed a national treasure.

 

We had to deal with choices of a different sort later. Our first concert of the evening, set to take place in the Starlight Theater, the ship's main venue, was our "twice as nice" show with Emmylou Harris. This is a special feature of the Cayamo cruise that allows guest to choose a headliner show they opt to see a second time... hence the title "twice as nice." However, other options awaited, including WPA on the pool deck and Darrell Scott, billed "With Friends," back in the Spinnaker. Noting the virtuosity of his performance on day one, we opted to make our return show with Scott and we weren't disappointed. Although two of the three "friends' turned out to be relatively unknown - Taylor Bates and Sarah Ample specifically-both offered superb songs of their own. Luke from WPA rounded out the list of guests and offered a typically virtuoso performance on fiddle to complement Scott's nimble fretwork.  Scott also provided the audience with a sage piece of advice on the art of songwriting:

"The best songs are the ones that come up and tap you on the shoulder when you least expect it. We as songwriters need only stay out of the way when the songs show up. We can't choose them because they show up in their own time."

 

After a brief detour to catch the tail end of a set by the all but unknown but thoroughly captivating Gregory Alan Isakov in the Atrium, it was back to the Spinnaker for Rachel Yamagata, who proved to be an absolute hoot as she delighted the crowd by poking fun at her melodramatic muse. She also offered a choice anecdote on her adjustment to life at sea. "I thought I'd be able to stick to my normal routine," she remarked. "So the first day I went straight to the gym. But when I couldn't get in, I went straight to the bar and I've been there ever since."  After what was intentioned as a sad song about a lost dog - in which Yamagata made scant attempt to keep a straight face and brought the audience to hysterics as well - she brought on a parade of special guests, chief among them Vienna Teng and the seemingly omnipresent Brandi Carlile. "Brandi used to open for me," Yamagata commented. "Now she's a big rock star and I'm singing sad songs about lost dogs."

 

Nevertheless, Yamagata and her trio brought the house down.  "Thank you for choosing me over Lyle Lovett," she said to the crowd before making her departure.

 

The biggest surprise of the evening was the Canadian husband wife-duo, Luke Doucet and Melissa McClelland. Offering up a flexible combination of angular blues, sassy jazz and heart-tugging ballads, the two gave a dazzling performance magnified all the more by Luke's shredding guitar licks and ample use of the whammy bar to create some of the most impressive sonic motifs heard thus far. His licks explore unexpected realms - erratic, unpredictable, and seemingly out of sync with the melody and yet wholly appropriate at the same time.  Ending with a beautiful ballad bearing the refrain, "I adore you," it was enough to bring a drinking man to tears. Or in my case, even one who casually imbibes.

 

It was then time to dash downstairs to the Starlight for the solo set by Steve Earle. Unsure as to the nature of his personality or the state of his mood, the crowd held their collective breath as Earle made his way to center stage. He turned out to be quite the showman, regaling the crowd with a mix of self-effacing humor, autobiographical anecdotes and political potshots.  The music itself was mesmerizing; with Earle accompanying himself on guitar and occasional mandolin, he turned such classic tracks as "I Ain't Never Satisfied" and "Coppertown Road" into communal sing-alongs and a general sort of soul revival.  Referring to his latest album, a tribute to his famous compadre Townes Van Zandt, Earle remarked, "I first met Townes when I was seventeen and I thought it was the most amazing thing ever.  I'm 55 now and I still think it was the most amazing thing ever." He sandwiched those comments between heartfelt readings of Van Zandt's "My Old Friend the Blues" and "Pancho and Lefty," fitting choices considering the emotional context.  A remarkable performance overall, Earle's concert reminded me of why I relished Cayamo in the first place. It was this kind of special bonding between audience and performer that breaks down that invisible wall normally separating an artist from the faithful legions. The tears in my eyes were clearly tears of joy.

 

That sense of common purpose radiated later in the Spinnaker as Stephen Kellogg and the Sixers, a band clearly infatuated with the spirit of rock ‘n' roll revival, hosted the evening's "throwdown," a set of Byrds, Band, Stones and Tom Petty covers featuring guest appearances by passengers and other artists alike.  The revelry that arose from singing along to such chestnuts as "Up On Cripple Creek," "Honky Tonk Women," "I Won't Back Down" and the evening rowdy closer," a raucous version of "Like a Rolling Stone" took Cayamo's penchant for partying full circle and brought a grand evening to its righteous conclusion. I was indeed, one happy Cayamo camper. Happy too, because there were still two days to go. Yet, I was also feeling slightly concerned. I still had an impressive list of performers I had yet to see.

 

 

Day 4: Wednesday, February 24

 

 

The music goes on forever and the party never ends...

 

This morning we wake up in Costa Maya Mexico, which, I will later learn, is Spanish for "Land of the Tourist Souvenir and all Things Claimed to be Made in Mexico but really Manufactured In China." That's my theory anyway. Actually Costa Maya is quite pleasant, especially due to the fact that there are no pushy taxi cab drivers, mainly because it's an easy walk from the boat to the public beach and attendant shops. Consequently, it gives the impression that once the Mayans laid their claim to this small strip of land on the Gulf Coast, they immediately established a settlement consisting of overstocked stalls selling ceramic ashtrays and tiny sombreros to arriving cruise ship passengers.

 

It ought to be noted that the most important thing to know before attempting to barter with the natives is the value of the American dollar versus the Mexican peso. Or more specifically, how many dollars it takes to have your picture taken with a tiny monkey. Seriously. Tiny monkeys seem to be among the most productive citizens of Costa Maya because practically everywhere you turn, there's someone offering to take your picture with a tiny monkey. Why one would want their photo taken with a tiny monkey seems to be a matter of conjecture, but I suppose that is in fact one of the mysteries of Mexico.

 

By the way, having been to the Mexican pavilion at Epcot several times, I've learned that the correct pronunciation of Mexico is "Meh-hee-co." Therefore I knew exactly what was meant when one local entrepreneur approached me and asked if I wanted to have "Seh-hee-co" with his sister.

 

Of course the coolest thing about Cayamo takes place on the boat, specifically those close encounters with the performers. Generally, these take place in the buffet line - proving the old adage that musicians like to eat, just like us regular folks. This morning, we happened to spy Emmylou Harris alone at breakfast, hair pulled back and looking inconspicuous in her jumpsuit. I didn't get an opportunity to catch what was on her plate but that's probably a good thing. I would have been mighty disappointed if she was helping herself to an omelet and the scrambled eggs and the eggs benedict and the French toast and the waffles and a half dozen of the other food varieties the breakfast line has to offer. Better to pig out myself and not find any evidence that one of my favorite singers is a glutton on the same scale as us mere mortals.

 

Likewise, it was a fairly commonplace occurrence to catch Steve Earle at an early morning workout in the gym, a reassuring notion considering his previously indulgent and addictive lifestyle, which by the way, he's quite candid about. "If I didn't workout, I'd probably die," he conceded at a point later on.

Of course, the most common star sightings take place during guest appearances during other artists' sets, the exception being Robert Earl Keen's solo show in the Spinnaker. That was just fine too, because Keen is a legendary performer whose humorous anecdotes and stories detailing the writing of his narrative material provides all the entertainment necessary.  Prior to launching into a selection of songs from his latest CD, Rose Hotel -- "10,000 Chinese Walk into a Bar" and the title track among them - he shared a story about an early attempt to get his record company to release a certain song as a single. After writing three or four letters and receiving no answers, he decided to go on a hunger strike.  However, three days into his effort, he was invited to an all you can eat fish fry that boasted an unlimited cache of beer. "That, my friends, is why you never heard that song on the radio." Keen's concluding song, "The Highway Goes on Forever and the Party Never End,s" may well serve as the unofficial anthem of Cayamo.

 

Stephen Kellogg and the Sixers, who were up next, provided what proved to be one of the show-stopping performances of the entire cruise. Reflecting a populist approach that was part Springsteen, part Petty and wholly effusive and appealing, the young band of best friends demonstrated both heart and conviction.  Songs about family provide a major theme in their music, with the song "My Old Man" serving as an emotional highlight.  Family also gives Kellogg and crew much to chat about, especially when it comes to Kellogg's brother Sean's who somehow inspires a different story every set.  Tonight's tale had to do with their mother finding a pair of dildos in Sean's dresser drawer after he left for college.  Needless to say, the conjecture as to what purpose they served and why they would be left behind drove the audience into hysterics.

 

Our headliner show of the evening, Lyle Lovett and his Large Band, didn't disappoint either. Lovett is the consummate showman and his natural charm never fails to come through. Soft-spoken and Texas-gracious, his material alternated between Western swing and wistful reflection.  Special guests Shawn Colvin, Robert Earl Keen and Emmylou Harris added additional star power but Lovett's ten piece band more than held their own, especially considering the fact that legendary drummer Russ Kunkel anchors the backbeat and back-up singer Arnold McCuller has graced more sessions than one could possibly ever tally.  Just like last year, Lovett's set provided Cayamo with another of its uncontested highlights.

 

We finished the evening back at the Spinnaker with a set by Scythian, a feisty Celtic that all but insists its audience dance to their delight.  I felt compelled to clap along, but by this point I was resigned to the fact that bedtime was nigh.  Trudging off to my cabin, the rough seas ensured that this ship would be rocking well into the night - physically as well as figuratively.There was one more day of Cayamo remaining and though we were still on a high, the ship itself seemed intent on taking its passengers up... and down.  Dramamine time had finally arrived.

 

 

Day 5: Thursday, February 25

 

 

"The time has come," the Walrus said, "To talk of many things - Of shoes--and ships--and sealing-wax - Of cabbages--and kings..."

-Lewis Carroll

 

Sadly, the final full day of our cruising adventure has arrived, much to our dismay. The seas are rough this morning, in some cases reaching swells of 30 feet. The breakfast buffet, a kind of human pinball game under the best of circumstances, takes on an added frenzy this morning as people carrying trays piled high with morning treats, collide with one another due to both the urgency of getting that extra omelet and the fact that the boat is providing more teeter-totter than a carnival funhouse. I confess, I have little tolerance for those surrounding me; I have a good half-day of artist interviews, beginning at 10 AM, and there's precious time to grab the grub and devour it before the artist onslaught begins.

 

I needn't have worried though; Samantha Crain, the first musician in our gab session line-up is a no-show, reportedly due to the fact she's been inflicted with seasickness. There's no reason to doubt her excuse, given that "Do Not Disturb" signs litter the doors of various staterooms and barf bags have been conveniently placed at strategic locations throughout the ship. We're beginning to get concerned about Rachel Yamagata, but fortunately she shows up a mere ten minutes late, all cheery and girl-next-door-like in a way that belies the dark strains of her music.  "I don't live my life that way," she says referring to her doom and gloom stance, adding that due to the melancholy gaze on her album covers, "I never want to be on an album cover again." Overall, she's been delighted by the cruise thus far, likening it to a great big tour bus on the water. "I'm completely humbled," she allows.

 

Yamagata also reveals the reason for the overall giddiness that preoccupied her set the day before, attributing it to the fact that (A) she had a cocktail at 5 PM which managed to keep her loopy well through show time, (B) the ship's rocking kept her off balance, (C) she bungled the first verse of her first song and (D) she didn't realize Brandi Carlile was in the audience and it made her discombobulated.  Very well, then.

 

Katie Herzig was as charming in person as she was onstage, humble and shy but obviously exhilarated by her second stint onboard Cayamo. Like the others, her greatest thrill was meeting her favorite artists. Despite the fact that she's looking forward to a two-month break, she's already beginning to compile songs for her next album, which will be her fourth to date, but the first where, in her words, "all the songs go together."

 

Glen, Luke and Jerry from WPA hold court next, offering up an explanation as to why their seemingly disparate band of pop, rock, country and bluegrass works so well. "WPA doesn't replace anybody's day jobs," Glen Phillips states.  As for the band's ability to balance song contributions from their wealth of writing talent, he's equally adamant.  "It's like cage fighting," he jokes before turning serious.  "Everybody in this band has high standards as far as songwriting is concerned. We're all respectful of one another so it becomes quite democratic. In five years maybe it will get petty."

Luke Bula, who's seemingly played practically every gig on the ship, balances his role in Lyle Lovett's band and his place in WPA. "I've had ten hours of sleep total in the past three days," he confesses while expressing his enthusiasm for the seemingly non-stop cycle of jam sessions. 

 

"I thought I'd hate being on a cruise," Jerry the drummer confesses.  "But it's actually really comfortable, kind of like an outdoor festival with air conditioning."

 

Lyle Lovett and Steve Earle are holding court for World Café, but other than the fact that both originally hail from Houston and play a form of roots music, the differences between them couldn't be more striking. Lyle, his trademark pile of curly hair towering neatly over his forehead, is dressed impeccably in a black leather sports coat and his ever-present cowboy boots. Earle on the other hand looks like he just shuffled in off the street, dressed in shorts and flip-flops with his long stringy locks and overgrown beard doing little to conceal his balding up above. The two reminisce about their early days in the biz and the various venues they played in Southern Texas before each made his move to Nashville, and the cast of characters - Townes Van Zandt, Guy Clark and Jerry Jeff Walker -- who more or less set the standard in terms of songwriting. 

"This is just music," Earle commented as the stories wound on.  "Nobody dies. I feel very fortunate to be able to make music at all." 

After the interview, Earle ambles over to the pressroom to further elaborate on his thoughts about life, politics and his art.  He speaks freely about the fact he was once an addict and inmate, but he now insists he's happy and content for the first time.  Though New York seems an odd environment for a rural renegade, he's looking forward to raising his child there.

 

His cell phone rings and he scrambles to answer it.  "Allison is due any moment," he remarks, speaking of pregnant wife Allison Moorer.  Curiously enough, for a man who boasts a reputation as a rowdy hell-raiser, Earle is quite personable and seemingly down to earth.  He asserts the fact that he's a socialist who's out of sync with mainstream politics ("I have to refrain from publicly supporting any candidate because that would be their kiss of death"), but also insists that though he's been in quite a few fights in his life, he's never won a single one.  Asked if people often seem intimidated by him, he says that in the past, it's hurt his feelings.  "I'm okay with it now," he maintains.  "I finally realized that if people have problems with me, that's something they have to deal with."

 

Stephen Kellogg, on the other hand, is simply a humble, affable guy who's genuinely appreciative when complements are offered for his music.  Now in their sixth year of making music, his band the Sixers have played nearly a thousand shows and gaining a committed following in the process.  I mention the fact that his band seems grounded in classic rock traditions.  "My wife tells me I was born at the wrong time," he comments, saying that after progressing through his various phases - heavy metal, the Dead, frat rock ‘n' roll - he finally went back to the music his parents played for him while he was growing up.  "Those artists were a different breed," he says.  "Singer/songwriters who still managed to convey pop appeal."

 

It's now nearly 2:00 PM and there's still a day of music to attend to. My wife Alisa's been felled by a form of seasickness, remedied by a double dose of Dramamine that's rendered her too woozy to get out of bed.  I venture out to catch the tail end of Samantha Crain's set and a subsequent songwriter workshop in the Spinnaker.  It's an impressive cast that's been assembled to offer their insights and play selected songs - Vienna Teng, Luke Doucet and Melissa McClelland. Katie Herzig and Gregory Alan Isakov all sharing the same stage.  Every song is a gem and the musicians seem as awed as the rest of us.

I'm torn between my choices for the next show I want to see, those being encore performances of Stephen Kellogg and the Sixers playing on the pool deck and WPA, making a repeat appearance in the Spinnaker, as well as Edie Carey, who I've yet to catch, now appearing in the atrium.  This of course is the happy dilemma Cayamo commands.  I opt for WPA, knowing that Chuck, my gracious Canadian pal, has saved seats.  WPA are excellent as always, erasing all doubts about my decision.

 

Ben Taylor, another artist I've yet to experience, takes to Spinnaker next, offering up an array of songs, half sad, half funny.  Opening with a tune entitled "Your Boyfriend's a Really Nice Guy," he appears to be relating a tale of a sexual switch-over, although a later offering, "Wicked Way ("I just want to have my wicked way with you") suggests he's still hetero at heart.  Ben bears only a faint physical resemblance to his famous parents, James Taylor and Carly Simon, but his caressing vocals and swaying guitar play bring more than a faint reflection of his folks' soothing soft rock style.  A version of his dad's lullaby-like "You Can Close Your Eyes," featuring Shawn Colvin and Arnold McCuller -- who, along with drummer Hal Blaine, is introduced as men who were like uncles due to their association with both James and Carly -- makes the family ties complete. 

 

Buddy Miller's final show is billed as "Buddy Miller and Friends" and it doesn't disappoint, although as Buddy himself allows, "All my shows have featured my friends."  Emmylou and Sean and Sara Watkins are among the perfect pals this time around.

 

Speaking of famous friends, Brandi Carlile rolled out an impressive guest list for the final Starlight show of the cruise, including Arnold McCuller who joined her for an opening take on a Roy Orbison classic "Crying." Carlile herself is exhilarating and enthusiastic, and despite confessing to being a bit under the weather, she and her band put on a first rate, rock star-worthy performance, one that mixed poses, poise and polish.  Long a favorite of the Cayamo crowd, she ran through a set list that drew equally from her three albums and EP.  A version of "Caroline," a duet with Elton John featured on her latest effort , Give Up The Ghost, was terrific, particularly the story that preceded it in which she relayed how awe-struck she was to meet Elton, her all-time idol.  Longtime accompanists, twins Tim and Phil Hanseroth, kicked off the encore with a stunning version of "Sounds of Silence," before the entire ensemble raised the energy and amplitude to bring the final main stage show to a thunderous conclusion.

 

And so, the time had indeed come, as the Walrus once remarked.  The end of a Cayamo cruise inevitably brings a mix of joy and tears with bidding goodbye to day after day of euphoric musical indulgence.  So too, there's the bittersweet sadness of having to say farewell to new friends for yet another year, as well as having to accept the cold reality that a new workweek will soon be upon us.  While I've endeavored to describe Cayamo as best I can and in as much detail as possible for one who's weird and wacky, in reality the only way to truly appreciate all it has to offer is to experience it for yourself. We'll have to wait an entire year until the next Cayamo - John Prine has already been announced as one of the performers  - but hopefully these shared thoughts and the collective memory of what Cayamo is all about will provide ample sustenance until then.

 

 

Photo by Will Byington. To read Lee Zimmerman's individual day reports accompanied by exclusive photos of the cruise, go here.

 

 

 

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The video of President Obama singing Al Green’s “Let’s Stay Together” became a viral sensation (and prompted a 490% increase in sales for the song). What other tunes would do well in the hands of pols? Newt Gingrich – Nookie (Limp Bizkit) Herman Cain – Pokemon Theme (Donna Summer) Mitt Romney – Frankenstein (Edgar Winter) Ron Paul – Me and the I.R.S. (Johnny Paycheck) Rick Santorum – God Only Knows (Beach Boys) Rick Perry – Oops!... I Did It Again (Britney Spears) Michele Bachmann – Lyin’ Ass Bitch (Fishbone) Harry Reid – Old Man (Neil Young) Nancy Pelosi – Maneater (Hall & Oates) John Boener – Tears of a Clown (Smokey Robinson & Miracles) Eric Cantor – Detachable Penis (King Missile) Stephen Colbert – The Joker (Steve Miller) Ronald Reagan – Born In the USA (Bruce Springsteen) Gerald Ford – Hunted By a Freak (Mogwai) George W. Bush – I Won’t Back Down (Tom Petty) Bill Clinton – Head (Prince) Budd Dwyer – Hey Man, Nice Shot (Filter) Current Results