Captain’s Log: Stardate 10306.3
Last night, the crews from the Enterprise and the Eagle (along with a sole member of Frolic attached at the hip to one of the Enterprise’s crew a/k/a “The Tunes”) beamed down to Richard and Marcy’s apartment building for our first annual pool party. New York City is in the midst of an arctic cold front, with wind-chill temperatures in the negative double digits, so a swimming event seemed like a good idea.

The party started with pizza and enough sushi to make Mitch’s head spin (Mitch, where were ya?) Then, most changed into their bathing suits and hit the water in the heated pool on the 50th floor. Unfortunately, the air outside the pool wasn’t as warm as it could be, and Ernie probably gave new meaning to the word “shrinkage.” As we packed things up to head down to Richard and Marcy’s apartment, the group of men coerced a temporarily Tune-free Patty and the bikini-clad Alexandra to join them in the men’s sauna – although I don’t think it was much of a challenge.

So what happened in there? I knew a situation like this would occur, so, thinking ahead, I mounted a new Enterprise webcam in the sauna. Through the use of 23rd Century technology, I’m happy to present the webcam image for all to see. Once again, however, it looks like my choice of location was working against me. I apologize to all of the faithful readers out there.

Once in the apartment, we all looked at the view and Marcy’s collection of American Indian art pieces. For some reason, every time I’m around her collection, I keep looking for a blackjack table or a window labeled “Sitting Bull Chip Redemption.” We sat around and discussed a variety of topics ranging from new sails to careers to MarTune’s frightening sympathy for Pee Wee Herman’s child porn collection arrest. I suppose Tune also bought Pete Townsend’s “I was only doing research” defense. (“Tommy II: The Deaf Dumb And Blind Kid Sure Plays A Mean ……”)

We also discussed possible names for Dave’s new cadet, arriving in May of this year. Names like Michael, Buck, William, and Wally were all mentioned, but it was Alexandra’s suggestion of Lance that was the most popular. Then again, with a name like Lance Beaver, your career path is pretty much set towards the porn industry.

Patty also spilled the beans and made it official (something I knew for a little while now.) Laura’s leaving us for Canada and has started ring shopping with Ronnie the Romulan. The crew began to formulate different plans to get her to stay, ranging from shaving Jesse to having Ronnie whacked Sopranos-style.

It was almost midnight and Richard was fading fast, so I drove Jory to the subway stop and Dave back home in the new shuttle. As Dave mentioned on the Thruway while listening to the Stones, it was really good to see everyone again.





Captain’s Log: Stardate Supplemental
It has come to my attention by way of subspace transmission (OK, it’s email, but it doesn’t sound as cool,) that USS Frolic’s Carol has once again tied the knot for “Wedding III: The Search for Monogamy”. We, of course, wish the couple the very best for a long life of love and happiness (or else she could be in for more sequels than “Rocky” – she’s tied with “Rambo” and “Back to the Future”.)

Captain’s Log: Stardate 10305.8
As most of the crew prepares for the first annual Enterprise pool party tomorrow at Richard’s apartment building, I’m happy to announce that our very own Lt. Kurt is once again gainfully employed. He’ll be working at a medical imaging company beginning tomorrow, so if your next MRI or CAT scan shows a little picture of Yoda by your medulla oblongata, you’ll know where it came from.

This weekend is Deb and Jeff’s wedding in New Jersey, the Garden State (although where this garden is remains a mystery.) Jeff, we’ve all known Deb for many years. We know her likes, dislikes, and have all experienced her personality. Run, man, run. It’s not too late. Save yourself. Run like the wind. Don’t look back. My God man, run!

It also looks like Lt. Laura is on her way to the planet Canada. It’s not official as of yet, but I’d bet on it. Five million single men in New York and she finds one in the middle of nowhere. Oh well. If only “J.G.” wasn’t so… um… “J.”

Captain’s Log: Stardate 10303.6
This past weekend, my first officer Richard and I took the new Enterprise shuttlecraft to the most wretched, slimy, scummy, ill-reputed planet in the known galaxy, namely Atlantic City. Our mission was tri-fold: To secure new warp drive sails for the Enterprise, to make contact with other starship commanders and crew in the Boatless Distance Race, and to take our chances to beat the odds of the craps table at the Sands Casino. With phasers set to kill and the safety of our ship far behind us, we began our trek through SailExpo.

We started by stepping aboard samples of other starship classes including Tartan, Dehler, Catalina, Bavaria and Beneteau, in the far-off chance that an Enterprise-B is in our future (see craps table note above.) We ran into Captain Jeff Ohstrom at Martin Tune of the USS Frolic who was in direct communicator contact with Captain Ernie Bivona of the USS Eagle. Over the communicator, Ernie mentioned that the Tartan 3700 was too much boat for him. Jeff, in a noble and successful display of self control, refrained from sending Ernie to the Sunfish exhibitor.

I should also note that, despite Jeff’s upcoming nuptials to Lt. Debra, he seemed in good spirits and without any signs of nervousness. Either he’s really in love, or the bar in the back of the show was serving up something extra volatile. Also at the show were Captains Charlie Hurd of the USS Excalibur and Francine Alheid of USS Watercolour along with several captains and crew members of other known ships both in and out of Star Fleet. It was like an Eastchester Bay reunion.

We spoke with several sail manufacturers and I’m conflicted as to whether I should go with a North Sails Pentex PX15 or a Quantum Sails Pentex/Dacron laminate. As nice as having a Kevlar headsail may be, I just can’t afford to be replacing it every three years. Every time it crinkles, it’s dollars gone. I don’t want to end up killing the next crewperson who releases early during a tack. Although Quantum does make a Pentex/Kevlar laminate in South Africa . . . Hmmm.

We purchased a new radar reflector to replace the shattered one and researched other gear to enhance the Enterprise’s performance next season. We finished the show in about seven hours (Eight if you include standing on line for a $4.00 hot dog.)

After changing and eating dinner, we beamed over to the Sands craps table where all hopes of a new starship were shattered with a few rolls of the dice. I lost $30 and Richard lost $50. Things were starting to pick up (I was down $150 at one point,) but Richard was broke (he’s married, remember?) and he pressured me to go. Who knows what another hour or two could have brought us. We grabbed a shuttle and went to the final leg of the Boatless Distance Race, a small sports bar called “Proud Mary’s” filled with cigarette-smoking Latinos, potato chips, and a small television where we could watch the finals for the Americas Cup. Richard was so far out of his element that James Kirk would have been more at home at a Klingon Opera.

Being the first to show (we skipped the first two marks and there was no rule stated that we had to round them) the Enterprise won the Boatless Distance Race. We were later joined by Captains Ernie Bivona and Charlie Hurd, along with Excalibur’s Connie and the Eagle’s Patty Stark (no relation to Jory.) We watched the Swiss boat walk all over the US boat while Charlie and Connie became fascinated with a blonde in a short skirt that should make short skirts outlawed on women over 50 carrying more than 80% body fat while Patty did her best to get others to buy her drinks because her pants didn’t have pockets and she couldn’t carry any money – a tactful and well-executed ploy that makes me wonder if her talents are being wasted on Eagle and that she should be recruited over to the Enterprise.

We crashed for the evening and then drove home by way of the Jersey Shore, avoiding tempting fate at the craps tables. It looks like Richard and Marcy are considering the purchase of a summer home on the beach not far from Sandy Hook. Prices range from $600K-900K, so it’s no surprise that he was finished at the Sands after losing $50.00.