by 

Lance Fogan

JULY 1; 4:20 PM: Your mommy, Aunt Sara, Bebe, you and I landed in New York City to board the QE2 ocean liner the next day. I had been working with you for months with picture books, and discussions, so that you would understand and recognize NYC, London, and their many sites, the geography of our trip, and you certainly knew all about them when we got to those places. Landing at JFK, I knelt down to your stroller and told you, "In New Yawhk, dey talk like dis." And you immediately started to robustly imitate that. You responded with great interest on my pointing out the bridges, tunnels, and tall buildings as we were driven into Manhattan.

JULY 1; 6:25 PM: Upon entering the Sheraton’s dining room for dinner, you immediately went over to a table where a single young woman was eating and you began to climb onto her adjoining chair and said "I’m going to sit here." We all laughed at your adorable nature. When your chocolate milk came, in a wine-type of glass, you said, "Here’s my wine." Shortly after, you spilled it. NYC tour buses outside the hotel had the Statue of Liberty image on them. You identified it at first glance.

JULY 1, 11:30 PM: You and I were the only two in our connecting hotel rooms still awake when we looked down on the street and saw so much activity at that time of night. You then understood, and repeated, that New York City is "the big apple," and "the city that never sleeps."

JULY 2; 2: 35 PM: We boarded the ship. As we left New York harbor you called out, "the Statue of Liberty."

JULY 2; 6:20 PM: You attracted the attention of the waitresses passing our table in the Queen’s Grill. On command, you further won their hearts with a wink, which you learned to do a long time ago. "I’m two" was your quick response to people’s queries.

JULY 4; 2 PM: In the ship’s library you recalled that your mommy earlier told you about the "adult section" and knew it differed from the "children’s’ section." People were saying that you were so smart as you commented on the pictures in the books that we were perusing. You were afraid to go out on deck the first couple of days; that soon passed. At dance lessons, the woman instructor danced with you, to stop you from running amongst the dancers. You would imitate, "cha, cha, cha, one, two, three," with the proper timing.

6:30 PM: All the diners and staff were "awing," and smiling, and congratulating you as you marched into the restaurant properly tuxedoed and a blue binky-pacifier in your mouth. One woman said that you needed a black-colored binky to go with your formal outfit. You replied, "How’re you doing?" to someone asking how you were, as your Daddy had taught you. We beamed as the formally attired maitre de bowed, shaking your hand, and remarking, "You are looking very smart this evening, sir." Soon after we sat down for dinner, you would start pulling your hair and sucking on your binky, indicating that you were about to sleep. The waiters then set up a "bed" with two empty chairs next to our table, and we all were happy and relaxed for the next 2 hours. That happened every night.

9:30 PM: When I carried you in my arms, sleeping, from the restaurant, both of us in our tuxedoes, one man, with deep sincerity, said, "That is truly a beautiful sight."

JULY 5; 2 PM: I saw a pod of dolphins near the ship. You missed them and later you said to some young kids, "Big boy, where are the dolphins?" People on board were getting to know you. I wouldn't let them forget your name.  I had it written on my shirt.  Strangers would say, "There goes Perry and his Grandpa."

6 PM: At the captain’s cocktail party, your tuxedo and happy demeanor even caught the captain’s attention. He seemed delighted to bend down to give you a personal greeting and handshake. But, he didn’t seem phased when you queried, as I had prompted you, "Captain, sir, please, may I see the bridge?" I had thought that he wouldn’t be able to resist your brilliant request, and that we would all get an invitation to tour the QE 2’s bridge, but, he smiled diplomatically, and greeted the next in line.

JULY 6; 10 PM: You again had fallen asleep at dinner but you awoke at 10 PM, raring to go. So you dressed and we went to the Midnight Buffet. On discussing our upcoming talent show performance, you repeated what I had told you, "If I don’t face the audience we have to go back to our room?" As we walked through the gambling casino, you called the slot machines "banks."

JULY 7: 3:15 PM: You developed the hiccups as we walked to the afternoon talent show, and I worried that you wouldn’t be able to go on. When we got to the Grand Lounge for the show, the young women organizers got so excited, laughing, actually screaming, upon seeing you formally dressed, and I knew that we were going to be hot. I had requested that we be the first act as I feared that if we were delayed, you, a two-year old, would get bored, or become otherwise occupied, and not want to go on. No one else was aware that you still were in diapers under your tux.  The MC introduced us as "Perry and His Grandpa from Valencia, CA, singing the Ink Spots’ Java Jive." You strode right up onto center stage with me without hesitation. When I leaned down and told you to do the intro, you grabbed the microphone close to your mouth and belted it out. Flashbulbs, laughter, and applause accompanied our singing. Even the backup band members behind us on the stage were broadly smiling. 

At the end we got  rousing applause from the 150-200 in attendance. You bowed your head so sweetly, and said "Thank you, audience," as I had taught you. You got a Cunard stuffed dog, and we each got a certificate; those will be framed so that you’ll have it to show to your own grandchildren 50 years from now.

JULY 8; 9 AM: A man said the words to our song, "A cup, a cup, a cup," recognizing us, as we walked by. Another lady congratulated you on your performance on the previous day, but you turned away, shyly. At dockside in Southampton, a woman told me, as I held you, "He’s the sweetest little boy." Another lady came up to us and with heartfelt sincerity said, "Thank you for the joy." In fact, the older people, throughout the voyage, smiled and laughed at your many antics in the Queen’s Room during dance lessons, or at tea time. 

You make so many people happy just by being you.

JULY 9: In London, you knew about the Thames River, Big Ben, Parliament, and you were especially anxious to go on the London Eye (huge Ferris wheel). We viewed them from our two bedroom eighth floor flat on Hill Street in Mayfair. You enjoyed the Natural History Museum and its dinosaurs, but you were frightened of the motorized ones.