The Life of a Tugboat Captain’s Wife

This is so me when I heard he’s going to be helicoptered in to a remote offshore location…


When he’s home, like he’s been for about a month, I can totally erase from my mind the fact that he’ll have to leave –a little amnesia — and when “the call” comes in, I get all cranky and whiny, because it’s time for the fun to end and my other life as a single woman starts all over again.

It’s another critical situation and so far away only a helicopter will be able to approach — and then what? Land on a boat? In the water? Will he be dropped down a rope? Loaded in a basket?

He isn’t here right now as he’s a a United States Coast Guard class for licensing maintenance (at least it’s local) but when he comes home, I will definitely get the answers to my questions, not that any of them will make me feel great, but at least I’ll know what to expect.

All I know for sure is that whatever it is,  it’s dangerous.

And I’d rather have him here, at home, with me.

But he has to go, and like he says, the sooner he goes, the sooner he’ll be home.

Or something like that.


The Mission, Part Two: I swear I am NOT bribing my husband to buy me a Chanel handbag, honest.

I dragged my tired, feverish, achy body out of bed to do the laundry and fulfill all my wifely duties. I filled the tub with water, brought in a few rocks from the yard…too much? Well, I did cart the heavy basket of wet clothes outside to hang up. When we’re having weather like this, it’d be a shame not to use Mother Nature’s power to dry and sanitize clothes! Don’t you think polka sheets are tres cool?

I’m being the best wife ever and not complaining, (well, not too much) about watching the World Series.  I’m surprised I even know who’s playing.

“More coffee, honey?” “How about your dressing gown, shall I bring it?” “Let me just slide your slippers on your feet.” Again, too much, huh? Well, I’ve been on the sofa watching Father Knows Best and Leave it to Beaver   for the part of the day that I wasn’t baking and cleaning–on my knees, scrubbing the floor with a toothbrush, and, OK, OK, I know when to stop.

Who Am I?

Sometimes I feel like I’m part I Love Lucy, part That Girl “Oh, Donald!” part Erica Kane from All My Children, and part Blair Waldorf minus the Upper East Side penthouse, private school education, and money.  Oh, and part Jess from New Girl.

Hmmm. If those are my female role models, I can see why people my son sometimes accuse(s) me of living in a fantasy world. OK, at least I don’t identify with Honey Boo Boo Child! In my defense, I was at one time an aspiring dramatic actor. It’s a part of me, once an actress, always an actress, with the same tools of the trade. I say that I’m a famous undiscovered actress, and I’m hopeful that it’s not too late for me. But since I never audition for anything and don’t have current pix or even an agent,  that’s probably not going to happen; I do realize that. I am not totally delusional. A certain percentage of delusional is all I’ll admit to. Math is not my strong suit.

A Halloween Party!

This is the first Halloween the captain has been home in two years. One of his academy buddies is hosting a Halloween party and we’ve been toying with the idea of dressing up, which we never do. Our choices include Frankenstein and Bride of Frankenstein, Captain and Tenille, the Skipper and MaryAnn, or Ginger and Fred Astaire ‘cos we love to swing dance. Right now we’re leaning toward the Frankenstein/Bride theme. I’ll take pix when we’ve made a decision.

My Former Life

I was cast as a streetwalker in a Marty Feldman film that was shot in San Diego a looonnnggg time ago; that was a good look for me, too. In fact, I was so convincing that I got propositioned for real! Good times. Hmmm. I was also cast as a Costa Rican hooker for another film, a made-for-TV movie with Jack Scalia. I had lines that time; “Te gusta, señor?” That translates to “You like, mister?” More good times. In case you were wondering, it was my curly brown locks that caused the casting agents to choose me. Def not in my personal bio. Definitely not.

Although, who knows what one’s price might be….a large Chanel might very well be my tipping point. Only kidding! Gotta hop to it and make the captain his lunch. I might as well stay in character…