Day 25: Not much of anything, really

I attended a lecture session on “Children of Fiji”. The guest speaker was a Finnish chap, and the “lecture” mainly consisted of him showing an excruciatingly feeble documentary he had produced and directed in 1996.
It was so bad it was embarrassing. This was episode one of an eleven episode series. Apparently it was originally intended as a twenty-two episode series, but I can only guess that whoever was funding it finally got around to watching an episode before deciding to pull the plug.
Apart from Emma finishing another book and me winning my third chess game (once again I managed a win due to my opponent making an error, but I’ll take any win I can get). We also managed to make it to the gym again, allowing us the illusion of virtue. However most of our social life revolved around meals, as is the custom on a cruise ship.
We had lunch with a couple who are primary school relief teachers in Western Australia. In case you’re marveling at how well paid relief teachers are, they can afford to cruise due to some nicely performing investment properties.
In the evening we had dinner with a retired couple from Washington (the state, not DC); he had worked in advertising and marketing for a number of US retail chains such as Sears, so we talked a bit of shop, wisely stopping before everybody else’s eyes totally glazed over.
There were also two women from Chicago, a real estate manager in her 40s who was traveling with her mother. The mother had had a severe car accident not too long ago, and it reminded the daughter of how fragile life can be, so she moved back to Chicago from Denver.
The late show was an Irish comedian named Mike Harris. His delivery was good, but I’d heard most other gags before. I guess this boat is doing its best to recycle at sea. Still he did have two jokes I particularly liked that I hadn’t heard before, one about a guy crying over a grave, and one about a guy knocking on the door at midnight asking for a push. Punchlines available upon request.