My comedy barbershop quartet, Lilac Crazy, has been singing and entertaining audiences for almost two decades. We chose the quartet name, not because we’re crazy about the color lilac, but because…we LIE like crazy. (We also sing a lot of funny songs and parodies about men…who lie like crazy.)

Every couple of years we go on a retreat to someplace fun, like Hawaii, the Mexican Riviera, Cayman Islands, Puerto Rico, and all points Caribbean. We use the trip as a chance to get away from the hubbub of everyday lives –– to relax, learn new music, and to bond as a unit. However, one must realize that the glue that binds any relationship together can become sticky if not handled properly through clear, well-intentioned communication. The following incident that occurred on the trip is a perfect example of clear communication between friends gone slightly wrong.

This winter the quartet cruised the Eastern Caribbean on the biggest ocean liner in the world –– Royal Caribbean’s Allure of the Seas. There were sixteen decks on the ship –– and those were just the decks for the passengers; I think the crew had accommodations under the water line. I’m sure the length of the ship measured close to a mile. It seems miraculous that the ship didn’t sink from the weight of the ship, not to mention the thousands of passengers.

The ship was beautiful, with luxurious amenities and unique experiences –– or as unique as one can get among 8,500 people. It was rather like taking your entire hometown with you on vacation…if your hometown speaks 23 different languages, that is.

Because I’m a retired professor of human relations with a doctorate in behavioral science, I find it difficult to refrain from analyzing every interaction between people, especially my own quartet. We’ve been functioning –– more or less successfully –– for quite a few years. However (and you should read that word with special emphasis), a couple of years ago our long-time tenor retired and we had to scramble to find a replacement who could learn our repertoire of 50-plus songs in just a few weeks.

The gal we chose was smart, had an immense vocal range…and was at least twenty years younger than I. This means she scoffed at my use of a paper calendar rather than the electronic device that rarely left her hands. Furthermore, she was raised in New York City and has what I consider to be a typical New York attitude. My late husband, who was also born and raised in that city, described it as the New Yorker’s version of the Golden Rule –– “Do it to others before they can do it to you.” In other words, abrasive confrontation is the norm.

This young singer was my cabin mate on the cruise. I hesitate to call her a slob, but she did leave most of her possessions strewn all over every available space –– beds, counters, couch, even the porthole ledge. But I can live with that, even though I strive to be exceptionally neat in such situations. I keep all my things in the space of an ice-cube tray.

As I said, I can live with the attitude, the mess, and the ever-present electronic device in hand, usually with a game of Candy Crush in progress. What I find hard to take is the abrasive confrontation in communication.
One day, the other three gals in the quartet went on an all-day shore excursion to swim, sail, snorkel, and kayak…which I, of course, declined. Not only was I afraid I would tip over in the kayak and drown, I also didn’t want to get my hair wet! I knew we had plans for the evening as a quartet, so I took a nap in the afternoon so I’d be alert later. We four enjoyed a relaxing dinner together, after which we attended a spectacular shipboard entertainment. Following a bustling evening of noise, crowds, and music in the uppermost decibel range (thank goodness I brought ear plugs), I returned to the stateroom while the others partied a bit longer.

When my New Yorker cabin mate returned long after midnight, she found me relaxing in bed with night cream on my face and reading a book. Now, if the roles had been reversed, I would have used well-intentioned communication between friends, a clear statement of observation. I might have said, with surprise, “Oh, you’re still awake!”

But what my young New Yorker friend said was, “Why aren’t you asleep?” That’s the sort of abrasive, judgmental confrontation between enemies I was taught to avoid.

Oh well, when one is as old as I am, it’s too late…and too difficult…to learn new tricks. I guess that means I’ll have to choose to interpret her abrasive confrontation as well-intentioned communication, for the sake of the friendship.

Nevertheless, I intend to continue to use my paper calendar…and I refuse to learn to play Candy Crush.