Seattle Sun Newspaper - Vol. 7, Issue 10, October 2003

Copyright 2003 Jane Lotter. Do not use without written permission.

JANE EXPLAINS:

Thank you, Johnny Depp

By JANE LOTTER

Although fall is here, I'm still recovering from what I think of as my "Pirates of the Caribbean" summer as in the Disney movie.

My 13-year-old daughter saw this movie five times. Most of her friends also saw it several times. Indeed, it's teenage girls who made "Pirates of the Caribbean" one of the summer's top 10 grossing films. Teenage girls sitting in the dark, their eyes flitting between Johnny Depp and Orlando Bloom in an impossible effort to choose which heartthrob they should focus on.

Driving carloads of teenage girls to see Pirates, listening to them recount their favorite moments in Pirates, helping them surf the Web for information on Pirates, well, these activities took up a large chunk of my summer. A summer that was also spent (as was yours, I'm sure) in a whirlwind of traveling, outdoor events, and bug repellent. A summer where, other than working and sleeping, I had not one moment to myself.

Until, that is, one day late in the season (we're going back in time now) when my kids somehow discover that the Lady Washington (www.ladywashington.org) is docked temporarily in Anacortes.

If you saw "Pirates of the Caribbean," you've seen the Lady Washington. In that film she plays the Interceptor, the fast ship that Johnny Depp and Orlando Bloom steal from the British.

My daughter, her friend (also a Pirates fan), and my 9-year-old son decide they must see that ship. "Mom, we have to go! Johnny Depp and Orlando Bloom actually STOOD on that boat!" They talk my husband into driving. I pass because I have a freelance assignment due.

So the four of them go to Anacortes. After touring the Lady Washington, they're pleased and surprised to be invited on a five-hour cruise aboard her. Only the ship won't sail until late in the afternoon, returning to port around eight in the evening. Meaning they won't get back to Seattle until ten or later.

My husband calls on his cell phone to tell me this. It's eleven o'clock in the morning. I've just finished my freelance job.

"Do you mind if we stay here that long?" he asks cautiously. "Will you be all right alone?" I tell him I think I can manage.

I hang up the phone and realize that for the first time all summer the first time in three months I have free time. No work deadlines. Nobody to drive anywhere, cook for, or discuss the likelihood of "Pirates of the Caribbean" winning an Academy Award for Best Picture.

I could go browse at the University Book Store. I could go to Cloud City Coffee and sit and read a book. I could do yoga. That is, if I knew yoga. Perhaps I have time to take a class!

The next few hours pass blissfully. The first thing I do is walk around Green Lake. By myself. Then I take a bubble bath (yes, in the middle of the day). I call my travel agent to inquire about women's bicycle tours through France (just keeping up). I chat with my friend Anne, read the latest issue of "Vogue," and clean out my closet.

What next? I'm surfing the Internet, eating Dilettante Chocolates, when, around three o'clock, the phone rings again. My 9-year-old. "Hi, mom. We're going on the ship now."

"How exciting, sweetheart," I enthuse. "I'm so happy for you." In my mind I'm calculating: SEVEN HOURS. Counting their drive back, I still have seven hours to myself! Yes, yes, yes! They haven't even left port yet. BWAAAHAHA!

And who knows? Maybe they'll be gone longer. Maybe the ship will go aground or something. Maybe it'll be like "Gilligan's Island" and they'll be gone for months years if the series is a hit.

I remind my son that I love him very much and he should put on sunscreen. Within minutes of hanging up, I'm doing my nails and listening to Barbra Streisand CDs.

A while later, the phone rings again. This time, I don't even pick up. I let the machine get it. "Hello, darling," says my husband, "we're here having fun. The children are taking turns standing in the same spot Johnny Depp stood in. Sorry you're missing this."

By now, of course, I'm dancing around the house in my underwear, like Tom Cruise in "Risky Business." I'm playing the Rolling Stones and prancing through the living room, lip-syncing to Mick Jagger. In a little while I'll get dressed and meet a friend at a restaurant for dinner. Frankly, I'm in heaven.

After dinner, I flirt with the idea of flying to New York and catching a couple of Broadway shows, but I'm running out of time. In the end, I arrive home moments before everybody else. They walk in the door laden with souvenir Lady Washington mugs and T-shirts.

So, anyway, now that summer's over, I'm thinking of writing Johnny Depp a fan letter. I want to thank him for making that very fun movie, "Pirates of the Caribbean."

And for giving me the day off.

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E-mail Jane at janeexplains@comcast.net.