Today I had a massage. QM2 sports the largest spa of any ship at sea. Canyon Ranch of Arizona runs the spa and is, apparently, world famous for its myriad bodily conditioning programs (frankly, I wouldn’t know). Most cruise vessels offer spa services, though even on some of the better ships there is a suspect air about these ‘spas’ and their accompanying staff. Usually one gets the impression these are the same masseuses who advertise in the Sports Section of daily newspapers. QM2's Canyon Ranch is however in a league of its own.

The facility itself was nothing short of amazing. Impeccably clean, there were attendants everywhere. One is greeted by New Age sounds, sounds that are, oddly enough, attempts at Old Age sounds, as in heavenly tones and celestial vibrations. As an aficionado of this music I can tell you the desired effect is enhanced greatly when you can listen to this music and gaze upon the ocean. It is enhanced even further when the divine form of the masterfully trained, certified, masseuse enters the room, albeit it as angel dressed in black workout clothes.

The massage room featured the by now the requisite somber mood lighting, ethereal music, a pastoral painting upon the wall, and a sink top brimming with hot oils and other slathering materials. Perhaps recounting yesterday's morbid discussions, I thought to myself how rarely we find ourselves lying on slabs, and how when we do it is at such cross-purposes. Here I was about to be splayed out for the express purpose of transcending to another level of consciousness. I couldn't wait to lose myself in the sensual overload that was about to take place. Meanwhile, my intellectual sense had been overcome by the news of Anna Nicole Smith's untimely death and the eagerness of the reporters anticipating the autopsy results. I could only wish she was experiencing the same heavenly vibe to which I was about to be elevated thanks to Chandra.

Chandra was my masseuse. A native of India currently residing in Dubai, we had lots to talk about with regards to the burgeoning Persian Gulf Riviera and CMU's campus in Doha, Qatar, a place of which she was quite familiar. Well, we had lots to talk about for about three minutes, until she laid her magical hands on my back. Then it was "Beam me up Scotty" for the next fifty minutes as I had the best massage of my life. Massages on board luxury liners are not cheap. This one ultimately cost me $135, but believe me when I say it was worth every penny.

The day also featured a performance by actors from the Royal Academy of Dramatic Arts in London. This is another unique feature of the QM2 and a most welcome one indeed. The troupe performed "Bottom's Dream" from Shakespeare's Midsummer Nights Dream. This ‘play within a play' was ideal for the cruise and its intended audience since most of the geriatrics on board needed an afternoon nap. I admit to nodding off a few times myself, but the cast did a stellar job. I found myself constantly comparing the quality of Carnegie Mellon actors to these performers of RADA pedigree, and remain quite confident in the training we provide in the School of Drama.

[Interestingly enough, at dinner that evening one of our tablemates complained about the difficulty of comprehending the "North Country" accents among the cast. I chuckled inwardly because a Yank onboard this vessel can expend quite a bit of energy attempting to understand what any of the Aussie, English, Scottish, and Welsh passengers on board are saying.]

I got a lot of writing done today. I am working on a play, an essay, and a novel; oh yes, I am also composing the new Futurist Manifesto for the 21st century, but more on that later. The library on board QM2 is also the largest at sea and is located high up in the superstructure. One can sit at a window directly overlooking the ship's bow and watch mesmerized as the bow lifts above the horizon and then descends beneath the blue line separating sea and sky. The walls of the library are mahogany lined, the seats are deeply cushioned, and the permeating atmosphere studious and peaceful. If this be retirement then I am all for it.

The evening's entertainment was an Armenian pianist/comedian in the tradition of the late, great Victor Borge [This is when the ETC students mutter, "Who's Victor Borge?"] Victor Borge was an accomplished Danish pianist who made a life and career mocking the "seriousness" of classical music and musicians. His thick Danish accent, impeccable musical ability, and wry sense of humor made him an international celebrity. I anticipate similar accolades for Kev Orkian. His show was hilarious and was frankly perfect for this audience and clientele. He had everyone laughing, from children to seniors, even as some of his material, especially his comments about "fellow pianist" Elton John, were rich with double-entendre.

A main reason we took the boat to Australia was to combat the jet-lag that usually does me in for a week or longer upon arrival in Adelaide. So far on this cruise, however, we have been setting clocks back one hour per day. This has created an interesting situation with regards to one's biological clock. Each evening when it is 10:00 pm I find myself more tired than I was the previous evening. A hypochondriac could have a field day with this dynamic. Boy, am I sure glad I'm not a hypochondriac! I'm glad I don't find myself saying, "Gee, it's only 10:00 pm and I more tired today than I was yesterday. I sure hope this isn't leukemia."

Somehow I thought the time adjustment was going to be easier this way. I still have many more hours to go, and the complete loss of an entire day, so it remains to be seen what shape I am in when we finally arrive "down under." Right now though I am going "down under" the blankets of my bed earlier than I ever did at home. If this keeps up I might be going to bed before sundown!

In fact, allow me to wish you "Good Night" – it's almost 9:00 pm!