MEMORIAL DAY SPECIAL

In honor of Memorial Day 2018, the operators of The Queen Mary Hotel offered free admission to military service members and veterans all Memorial Day weekend long. With proper military ID or proof of service, that person could purchase up to six additional tickets at 20% off. Since I had never been and I chose to take a day off from work, I went with a friend down to visit The Grey Ghost.

THE SCORPION

Docked alongside the Queen is an old Soviet-era Foxtrot-class submarine. Unfortunately, visitors can no longer tour the Scorpion as detailed in a news article here. If you’ve ever been to the USS Pampanito in San Francisco’s Fisherman’s Wharf area (article here), it’s significantly different. Just the observable size and shape show the technological advances in the thirty year span between the two. But the Scorpion was not the reason I was in Long Beach: it was the Queen Mary.

LUXURY LINER OR CRUISE SHIP?

As we walked alongside the ship towards the ticket booth, we both laughed about whether or not they had a “Gopher” (the ship’s purser from the 1970s show The Love Boat), or a “Doc”, a “Julie” (the cruise director) or an “Isaac” (a bartender who was one of the main characters). After all, there certainly must be a difference between a luxury liner like the Queen Mary and a cruise ship like the Love Boat, right?

TICKETS AND TOURS

I purchased tickets that included two tours: a Haunted History tour (not the paranormal version) and an Historical tour (but not the WW-II specific tour they just introduced). The tours included a free 4-D movie back near the engine room (a movie I missed, by the way, because they close that area at 6:00PM). This weekend they are also showing multiple instances of the 2017 Dunkirk movie (but I didn’t see that, either). A helpful individual scanned our tickets and we were off to the fourth floor entrance.

THE ADVENTURE BEGINS WITH A THUNK

We had time before our first tour and I wanted to see the radio room. I asked a guy I thought would know: an employee with four gold stripes on his epaulets. He told me to take two rights, go up the stairs and the radio room was forward on the deck above us. Easily done. From the starboard side of the ship, with the bar to our left and the first-class nursery to our right, we turned aft. We walked by all the cut-away models of other luxury liners from the Lusitania to the Queen Mary and then turned toward port into the first entryway we encountered. This satisfied the “two rights” command.

The only stairs we saw were to our left, which bore the sign “Historical Staircase”. Historical it was. You can only ascend in single file and they don’t provide the same level of comfort and sturdiness all the other stairs do (until you go on the Haunted tour and have to descend an almost ladder-like wooden staircase). Anyway, I made it to the top of the very dark staircase and pushed open the door at the top. Thunk! The door hit a large trash dumpster and only opened about two feet wide. This, my friends, should have been my first clue something was amiss.

THE FORBIDDEN WORDS “OOPS” AND “UH-OH”

My friend and I exited the staircase through the somewhat blocked door onto a deck covered in blue tarp. In any other circumstance this would clearly indicate to any casual pedestrian that something else had gone wrong, also. But, caught up in the emotion of exploration and history, it didn’t register. The adventure had deposited us onto the deck above where we started but not quite high enough. There was another flight of stairs we needed to take to get to the deck we wanted. A quick trot up the stairs brought me face-to-face with a solid wooden barricade. Clearly, this was not the path we sought. I made the “Opps” announcement to my friend who then added the “Uh-oh” statement to our situation. The door from which we exited did not have a handle on the outside and it locked upon closing. Suddenly, it all came together.

We were on whatever deck was above the Promenade but below the Sun deck in an enclosed construction area situated between lifeboat stations 3 and 5. Blue tarps covered the deck and eight to ten foot tall braced plywood blocked our exits. The exit door had no handle and we did not want to get booted off the ship for climbing over the barricade at the top of the outdoor staircase. My friend went back to the top of the stairs and called out to some other guests for help. I called the hotel’s front desk and was put on hold. Two women came to the railing above us and said they had called security. Meanwhile, the front desk finally answered and I described our location. As the woman was telling me we were in an area closed off to the public (really?) the security guy appeared on the deck above and let us know he would get us out.

Security Guy not only got us out but subtly showed us the sign telling us not to enter. Unfortunately, because there were no lights on the Historic Stairway you can only see the sign when the door is open. Security Guy then showed us the correct path to the radio room. Considering his knee was in a brace and he limped in a manner with which I’m well accustomed, my hat’s off to him for negotiating all the stairs he had to take for our sake, let alone everyone else.

CONFRONTING THE CAP’N

This first adventure put us dangerously close to missing the rendezvous time for the Haunted tour. When we arrived at the check-in desk, the same individual who had given us the “two rights and a left” set of instructions was there. With Security Guy right behind us, I informed “Captain Jack” (or whomever he was) that his instructions had landed us in a locked construction area and Security Guy had just rescued us. He gave me a blank look and said he wasn’t aware that the route was blocked off. I think the truth is that he had probably never gone the way I interpreted his instructions but I did, in fact, complete the “two rights and a left” exactly as he had said.

THE TOURS

Take the tours. I don’t want to spoil them. Robert was our guide for the Haunted tour and Cody was our guide for the History tour. I found both tours worth my time. They have a number of tours from which to choose, by the way.

COMING AND GOING

My friend brought lunch in a cooler left in the car. If you exit the ship you can reenter the same day by presenting your entry ticket again. If you do plan a visit and want to take lunch or snacks in your vehicle, just keep your tickets handy.

RADIO ROOM FAUX PAS

Properly navigating our way to the Sun deck, we went by the communications room and the radio room. Up until this point, any of the displays had been limited to “things”; not goofy displays with mannequins or stuffed animals. Books, models, photographs, antique receiver-set radios; that type of display. When we stood outside the glass of the radio room, however, it was different. My friend even said, “Look, they have a dummy in the radio room.” Turns out it wasn’t a dummy but a real amateur radio operator who was scanning through the channels listening for chatter. I apologize here and now for my friend’s comment if you were or know that radio operator. I know his call sign but I won’t disclose it. We spoke with the operator for a few minutes and went forward to the bridge.

THE BRIDGE

Again, I don’t want to spoil it. If you can get to the bridge and the officer’s quarters, do it. Take pictures.

THE BOW

We worked our way around and made our way to the bow of the ship. From the bow looking aft, this is the view:

UNINTENDED SHENANIGANS

We decided to have a drink outside the bar at a table overlooking the entire forward section of the ship. We sat down and waited for menus or a someone from the food service staff to help us. After a brief discussion it was determined that I would get menus and let the staff know where we were. I went in and spoke with an extremely helpful individual who said I should take a seat and he would be with me in a moment. This started a series of conversations which resulted in my laughing harder than I have in years. But first…

SENSITIVITY DISCLAIMER

Ages ago when I was in the military, we used to create an Electronic Order of Battle (EOB) overlay to our maps. Units we knew were TUDs (True Unit Designators) and units we did not know were AUDs (Arbitrary Unit Designators). I kept this system of identification in my head to help me remember details about someone in a kind of mental dossier. If you were a motorcycle enthusiast, I might call you Pauly (like Paul Teutul Sr. from American Chopper). If you were a mechanic and a bit scatterbrained, I might call you Iggy (like the character Jim Ingatowski from the 1970s TV Show Taxi). In my mind, I have assigned many, many people AUDs to help me associate them with something. Believe me, it’s not a derogatory thing, it’s a mechanism that helps me remember characteristics about someone that might be important later. Calling a tall guy “shorty” or a big guy “slim” is entirely different. I hope that makes sense. Anyway,…

PRETZELS AND BRIE

I returned to the table and said I had spoken with Isaac and we would have our menus soon. Who is Isaac? The lovable bartender from The Love Boat, of course! I did not realize at the time that my friend had already ejected the conversation we had about that show and had moved on to other things. We ordered drinks and an appetizer and took in the view of Long Beach. “Isaac” came back a couple of times to check on us which was very nice. On his last visit I told him we were ready to close the check. He validated my parking pass and returned the bill with my credit card for signature. Rather than leave it on the table, I asked my friend if we should just give it to “Isaac,” which became the plan.

WHO?

As we reentered the bar, I looked for “Isaac.” I did not see him anywhere. My friend suggested we give the packet to the female employee by the door, which I did. Unfortunately, I should have immediately engaged my friend in some type of conversation to divert her attention for the next two nanoseconds. My intent was to hand the paperwork off and walk away. Everything would have been clean and done. But my friend, trying to be helpful, said, “That’s for Isaac.” I freaking lost it. Did I mention one of the characteristics shared by our bar staff waiter and the actor from The Love Boat is they were both black? No? I honestly, honestly, honestly, referred to our guy as “Isaac” because he was a bar tender on the ship and my friend and I had been talking about The Love Boat earlier in the day. It was not because of the color of his skin; it was the job he performed. But when my friend said, “That’s for Isaac” and the waitress said, “Who?” I could not control it any more.

FIGHTING FOR AIR

I bolted around the corner from the bar and started laughing hysterically. When I calmed down enough, we went to see the continuous-loop 20 minute film about the ship. Every so often I would hear the woman in my head ask, “Who?” and I would have to hold back my immature giggles all over again. I explained the “Isaac from the Love Boat” rationale to my friend who didn’t think it was nearly as funny as I did. Then again, I wasn’t the one who said, “This is for Isaac,” either.

LEAVING

At this point we had been at the Queen Mary for over eight hours. It was time to go. We assumed the validation received at the bar would be good for three hours. You automatically receive 30 minutes free so I was looking at paying for about five hours worth of parking. I don’t know if it was my good looks and charm or the yellow sticker Isaac put on the parking pass, but we didn’t have to pay anything for parking. Which brings up an important point. If you visit the Queen Mary, bring your parking pass with you. The stores, restaurants and bars will validate but you have to have the ticket with you.

That’s it for now! I hope you enjoyed the story. It’s embarrassing but completely true.

This post reviews my Museum of Tolerance (Los Angeles, California, USA) experience. The views remain my own and do not represent those of any group or organization other than myself.

Bottom line: If you can go, go. They close early on Fridays and are not open on Saturdays. I went on the AFC/NFC playoff Sunday and had no issues with traffic or crowds. I spoke with others I know who said it was quite crowded when they arrived, so I guess be prepared either way.

Arrival: The free underground parking doesn’t open until 10:00AM. For those of you who do not set your time pieces to the atomic clock, do so. Security does not remove the cones from the parking structure until 9:59AM. Not 9:58AM, not 9:34AM (when I actually arrived) but 9:59AM in time to make a 10:00AM opening. If you arrive as early as I did, you can park right in front of the place on Pico on Sundays. The light poles have four or five different signs regarding parking, but both my son and I read them as carefully as we could and determined that yes, you can park on the street in front of the building on Pico on Sunday. If you choose to park in the parking structure, you will need to pass an interview with a security guard in the driveway who will also do a cursory inspection of your vehicle. If you get a “go” from the guard, you’re sent down into the bowels of the building where I understand (but did not witness) they will put mirrors under your vehicle and might ask you to open your trunk. I did not experience that personally but a Yelp commenter posted about it.

Arriving Early: The doors were wide open when we arrived. DO NOT, however, make the mistake I made when I thought to go into the building and ask if I purchased tickets at that desk or somewhere else. When one of the four women at the desk finally decided to acknowledge my presence, I was told the museum did not open until ten and I needed to wait outside. I asked if this was the correct place to purchase tickets and was told the museum did not open until ten. I again asked if this was the place, after ten o’clock, where I would buy tickets. She said it was but that the museum did not open until ten and I needed to wait outside until then. So, unless you’re in an organized group, like the dozen or so high school students who were there before us, you will not be given admission until ten. In fact, once the second security guard told them what they could and could not bring into the building, they wouldn’t admit the student group until everyone returned from putting stuff back into their cars. You can’t bring anything in, by the way. No food, no coffee, no water bottles, no cameras, no back packs.

Ticket Purchase: Remember the rules Jerry gave George when they were going to buy soup on an episode of Seinfeld? Stand by. Know how many are in your party, have your cash or credit card ready with your ID, make the purchase and step immediately to your right. Do not ask any questions of the ladies behind the counter. Do not ask where to go next. Step to the freaking right and keep moving to the next security station.

Entrance: The TSA/El AL-trained security specialist was very specific and matter-of-fact. Place all metal and cell phones in the tray and walk through the check point. All bags are subject to search. You will have the opportunity to dispose of any unauthorized items immediately. If you choose to return them to your vehicle you will lose your place in line. I was not subjected to a cavity search but it was obvious the security guy either took his job seriously or was entirely bored with the routine. He, as well as almost every other person we encountered, was not too receptive to our saying “Good Morning” or “Hello.” The staff has been trained to respond with unintelligible grunts and scowls. I think it’s in their employment contracts.

Grouping: Heaven help you if you’re not with a group. They will sequester you in a lobby area until they decide they have enough to start a tour. Then you are paired up with someone who begins your tour. We had the most remarkable host. She greeted us in 12 different languages. She even commented to someone that she had to learn 12 different languages to do it. A woman asked her exactly how many languages she spoke. She was bilingual in English and Spanish but “[she] was learning some of each language every day.” That bugged the crap out of me. I’m a native English speaker and I can hold my own in Spanish and German. I’ve taken Greek, Russian and Korean. I have a hard enough time conjugating words in English let alone remembering if this article is Spanish or German, whether I properly stressed the accent in Greek or formatted the sentence properly in Russian or Korean. Learning a word every day in a foreign language does not make you a linguist. Her comment bothered me far more than it should have because it was so deceptive. “I speak twelve languages” really meant “I know how to say hello in twelve languages.” If she said hello in Klingon, could she work at ComiCon? Okay, rant over.

Exhibits: Once we were free of the self-absorbed host (who, by the way, let us know she used to be on Sesame Street and other kid’s shows), we started the exhibits. I have nothing but highly positive things to say about any of the exhibits we saw. I’ve been to Dachau a few times as a kid but that was more in-your-face than the holocaust exhibit here. This museum’s exhibit was far more engaging. It neither accused nor excused what happened. It explained German antisemitism from basically 1865 through the death of Simon Wiesenthal. It was educational, factual and engaging. The exhibits on current hate issues, like LGBT rights, women’s issues, racial equality, freedom of speech and others were also very interesting. I was not able to view the video program they had on other genocide and hate events in the 20th century (like Ireland, Turkey, Palestine, Serbia, etc.) but the photos they had for the slide show build-up to the video looked interesting. Why didn’t I stay for the movie? My daughter sent me a photo-message that she had broken her ankle. Awesome.

Grouping: Did I already mention groups? Lordy-Lou. One lady from our group wandered into the group ahead of us. She was escorted back to our group and told to stay with us. The guy was not polite about it. “This is your group. Stay with your group. Do not wander off.” Know that when you go. Stay with your freaking group or pay the price if you don’t.

Bookstore: I wandered into the third floor bookstore. From out of nowhere, the clerk slash security professional appeared. There’s no way this guy was not a Krav Maga master. He looked innocent enough, but I was in martial arts for a number of years and there’s no way this guy’s thighs could fill out his slack pants if they weren’t honed and toned. So I screwed with him. When my son went down one aisle, I went down another. When my son switched aisles, I would go down another. He couldn’t watch both of us so he chose me. It was fun but quite immature of me.

Guest Speaker: We heard from a survivor of three different death camps and a Polish ghetto. The guy is 85 years old and sharp as a tack. He was the absolute best part of the entire day, bar none. He told his story in a matter-of-fact way which seemed to help him recount the events. Unfortunately, his time was interrupted by a fire alarm and we had to evacuate the building for about a half hour. When we returned he picked up where he left off. Because of the interruption, the speaker scheduled to follow him was put into another venue so we had extra time with our speaker. All was good until during a question-and-answer session he was asked to summarize his life and his religious beliefs. The next few minutes were intensely personal and emotional for him and a number of guests. They have guest speakers scheduled for every day they’re open. If at all possible, attend one of their seminars. It would have been worth the price of admission by itself.

Anne Frank: We did not check out the Anne Frank exhibit. Sorry. Someone will have to check it out and let me know.

Fire Alarm: The fire alarm was an unfortunate event. It interrupted everything. However, before they blindly sent people tumbling into the street, they did confirm it was real and not just some chuckle-head having fun. I wonder if the very hot and smokey smell coming out of the elevator was a clue.

Common Sense: I had my son research to see if there was a dress code. Apparently there isn’t one. In this specific case I chose to err on the side of good taste and respect so I wore long pants and a button-down shirt. Some of the high school girls and chaperones looked like they had just clocked out of one of Los Angeles’ many strip clubs. Booty shorts and tight tank tops should not be appropriate attire when interacting with genocide survivors, but who am I? Someone said I needed to be more tolerant. Another thing which almost caused me to put the smack-down on either a high school kid or his chaperone was the kid’s mouth. Yes, the elevator was putting out a foul odor. But no, it is never appropriate when you’re in the presence of a holocaust survivor to start yelling out how they’re going to gas us or burn us alive. I wanted to take the little piece of crap and shove him down the elevator shaft. No one in his group said anything to him. I was both embarrassed and angry at the same time. Anyway, I didn’t have to crush the little turd because we were led into the seating area for the speaker to begin and motor-mouth didn’t have anything else to say.

Summary: Go and enjoy the museum and its exhibits but do not expect the staff to be pleasant or friendly in any way. At least that was my experience today.