Cruise

Q. Isn't this the time of the year you usually write how much you dislike cruises? My wife loves cruises; please go easy this time around.

A. Okay, I'll tiptoe through your wife's tulips, but truth be told:

In a deliberate slip of the professional tongue I confessed, some six years ago, that most ocean cruises are a testament to the unhealthy American predilection for excess consumption.

I wrote how my bias portrayed cruise ships as "gaudy cities-at-sea, steaming off with hordes of adults, strangers to one another, who now can eat and drink, drink and eat, unwittingly contributing to our national epidemic of heartburn."

To my complete surprise, a number of literate readers harbor like sentiments. From New Jersey, Rita McCullough writes, "I marvel at the ceaseless cruise invitations or exhortations, offering heights of wantonness and gluttony worthy of the last days of the Roman Empire."

Once her children had become companions, this mother of nine longed "to see the world, learn about it, and to go anywhere ... (but) I don't need bright lights and luxury. (Instead) Interesting crafts, rare birds, knowledgeable people, long walks in all kinds of weather, modest meals with folks who know things and like to talk about them ... in short, learning. That's what appeals."

In fairness, numerous others write to celebrate cruising. A devotee from Coal City, PA grew up close by Illinois lakes and, to this day, "loves being on the water." She slips into a state of rapture, describing Switzerland's Lake Lucerne, the three noble rivers of Pittsburgh and holds dearly to a memory of "being in the bow of a ship crossing a Norwegian fjord."

"The ocean is the distraction," writes a 70-year-old cruiser from Vancouver, Washington. "It's hypnotic. You just sit and watch. It's always so quiet at sea."

Well, not always quiet. Freelance writer Ann Costello, and husband Dick, paid more than $50,000 apiece to sail around the world on a Radisson Seven Seas cruise ship. Surely, these privileged passengers had a couple of rollicking, noisy times. Consider, "there were 22 formal nights, 46 fairly dressy informal nights ...(and) the two of us ended up with six large suitcases." As to carry-on bags, six had to suffice.

Writer Costello explains in The New York Times: "Life on the world cruise was like having a house full of devoted servants-324 of them." Then, there were the meals, perhaps "a seafood bisque with Armagnac followed by chateaubriand with b'arnaise, among other dishes." Fares entitled diners to "unlimited pourings" of good-quality red and white wines.

My favorite detail follows: "The needlepoint group met daily."

Now, while the cruise line (www.rssc.com) is planning to use a larger ship for next year (prices start at $49,795 per person; port charges are extra), there is other, more melancholy news from the Kaiser Commission on Medicaid and the Uninsured. It seems 41 states are cutting Medicaid health care programs for the poor. According to one source, "Three have simply started kicking people out of the program. Nebraska is cutting 25,000, half of them children."

What all this means, Washington Post writer E. J. Dionne Jr. says, is "The working poor get thrown over the side." (An interesting choice of words, given the principal subject matter.)

Beg pardon, but the cruise industry doesn't need my trade. The 23 companies reporting to the Cruise Lines International Assn. boast they expect a record 7.4 million passengers this year.

Next year, while some 700 privileged passengers will be afloat on the impressive 709-foot Seven Seas Mariner, sailing leisurely for 109 days and dining in one of four available restaurants (the older ship had only two!), there remains that other pesky worry: the poor in the United States. According to columnist Dionne, and others, "What the poor are going through because of the economy.is a national scandal. The scandal that few seem to give a damn about."

Meantime, smooth sailing to all cruise people. Go lightly on second and third deserts, though. After all, we don't want our critics thinking we seniors, our nation's Tribal Elders, are behaving as greedy geezers.