The golden-vested front
man of the Marlin Latin Band is leading a crowd of mostly middle-aged Europeans
in a choreographed line dance, the likes of which hasn’t been seen in North
America since the heady days of disco and Saturday Night Fever. He calls out
nonsensically in a variety of languages and the crowd imitates his every move.
Super Mommy, Boom Boom! Shakey, Shake! Uno, due,
ciao, ciao! Eins, Zwei, Chica, Chica!
After the chica, chica
bit, he sways to our left and ostentatiously mimics brushes his hair, with the
wave of his hand, as the crowd dutifully mimics him.
Chica, Chica, Macho, Macho, Macho! Sexy, Sexy!
The macho-macho line is
followed up with a deep pelvic thrust and the sexy-sexy bit comes right before
a figure-8 like hip gyration. In between songs he calls out to us, “Applausa,
Applausa,” reminding us to clap for him. I feel at once repelled and yet also drawn to
the spectacle. Maybe I’m too inhibited, but you’d have to horse-collar me onto
the dance floor and place a loaded revolver to my head to get me to take part
in such a bizarre line-dancing spectacle.
Welcome to the wonderful
world of primetime cruise ship entertainment. I recently spent a week on board
the Costa Neo Romantica and had a grand old time watching the sort of song,
dance and variety routines that I would ordinarily run at full speed, as though
escaping a burning building from. Don’t get me wrong- there were some first
rate musicians on our ship, including classical musicians, a blues guitarist
and a terrific Spanish flamenco guitarist, but oddly enough they were relegated
to afternoon performances and out of the way café’s.
All of the primetime acts
in the main Grand Ballroom were laughably cheesy pop performances or variety
acts that were hilarious, embarrassing and often both hilarious and
embarrassing. But what I found truly fascinating was how much everyone else,
save for me, enjoyed these acts. Part of the difference may be cultural-the
ship had an overwhelmingly European clientele, and partly generational- most of
the audience was a bit older than me.
Aside from the floorshow
spectacles, we were also treated to some high energy dancing on the deck below
our cabin as well, usually right after departing a port. The theme for the week
was
Bomba, which we knew by heart by
the end of the week, and, in fact, I think there was just one mix CD played in
rotation for the entire 7 days.
I was hearing Chica, Chica, Sexy, Sexy, Macho,
Macho in my sleep all week. After all the fun, I realized that it’s fun to take
a cruise now and again, if for no other reason than to get in touch with all
the pop culture crazes and silliness that it’s possible to avoid when not in a
captive audience situation.
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