Dinner on the Queen Mary 2

The Grand Lobby of the Queen Mary 2 was filled with the sound of the eighth bell. Right at noon, the Captain's voice came over the speakers, telling us where we were between South Africa and Australia. He also shared the word of the day, Snuffy, and explained that 18th-century sailors, forced into service, used handkerchiefs to wipe away their tears. But at Table 42, there were no tears. Instead, we heard the lively, steady clinking of silverware on china.

Our six-person dinner group felt like a small Commonwealth. Paul and Terri were adventurous Canadians from Yellowknife who once ran their own flying service with a slew of airplanes, including a sturdy C-123. Jeffry and Kink were a classic British couple living near Liverpool. Then there was us, the Americans, following the path of a Prussian great-grandfather who served the Kaiser as a cavalry soldier, who crossed the Atlantic three times to chase his dream in America.

Even though we came from different countries, we found we had something important in common. Each of us had two sons, all grown up with great families of their own. Every night, we quietly celebrated this shared legacy as we traveled together across the sea.

That night, we talked about the excitement of our departure. We remembered the cold, lively evening in Southampton 26 days earlier, when BBC cameras were filming, and the Royal Imperial Military Band played loudly in the Queen's Room. We recalled the fireworks lighting up the sky as the Queen Victoria sailed past us toward the Americas, while we turned east, honoring the old Royal world tours when people said: "the sun never sets."

Jeffry leaned in, eyes shining, and told us about his father. His dad knew the sound of a Rolls-Royce Merlin engine better than his own heartbeat. He worked on Spitfires that defended Britain and later maintained the same engines on Channel patrol boats that rescued pilots from cold waters. Hearing these stories made history feel real at our table.

Kink, who strongly supports the Monarchy, made us laugh with her story about her "unauthorized" visit to the Queen Mother's birthplace in the Scottish Highlands. She winked and said, "It's better to ask forgiveness than permission," as she described how she talked her way into the private gardens. She also predicted that King Charles might soon let William and Kate take over and bring new energy to the Commonwealth.

Then we started talking about Liverpool. Jeffry admitted he used to take girls on "cheap dates" to the Cavern Club in the 1960s for just a pound and a half." And what girl, exactly, would want to date you?" Kink joked, making everyone at the table laugh. We started talking about the Beatles. Both Jeffry and Kink had seen them play at local town halls before they became famous. For Kink, Paul McCartney was more than a rock star; she still thought of him as "a dream of a man."

In these 55 days, we have experienced a lot. We went through a Force 10 Gale in the Atlantic that made the QM2 feel alive. We walked among the "good rocks" of Stonehenge and saw the old ruins of Old Sarum. We had also just visited South Africa, where the animals paid no attention to our cameras.

But as we ate dessert, we felt a bit sad. In eleven days, we would reach Fremantle, and the "Yellowknife Flyers" and our British friends would leave the ship, ending the best dinner group we had at sea.

We felt like the world was ours, and the Queen Mary 2 was our home. But it was the people we met who made the trip special. We raised our glasses one last time, six proud parents and travelers far from home, making the most of every mile before we reached the pier in Perth.

Klaus Fragstein: A Life Lived in Music

The air in Nashville always seems to carry a faint hum, like a guitar string vibrating just out of reach. For most people walking down Belmont Boulevard, the historical markers are just bronze-and-black signs detailing the city’s rich past. But for Klaus Fragstein, these aren’t just facts—they are chapters of a life lived in twelve different languages and a thousand different melodies. As we stood there in the Nashville sun, Klaus rested a hand on the sign for the Jack Clement Recording Studios. Watching him look at that building—now known as the Sound Emporium—was like watching a man step back through time.

From the Vienna Boys Choir to Music City

Klaus’s journey didn’t start in the Tennessee hills; it began with the disciplined, crystalline harmonies of the Hannover and Vienna Boys Choirs. To go from the rigid tradition of German choral music to the raw, foot-stomping energy of 50s Rock & Roll is no small feat, yet Klaus bridged that gap with the stage name Cliff Nelson. Standing outside the studio Jack "Cowboy" Clement founded in 1969, you could almost hear the echoes of the sessions Klaus recorded there. Clement was a man who famously worked with legends like Johnny Cash and Charley Pride, and Klaus—with his unique blend of German heritage and American country soul—fit right into that eclectic tapestry of Nashville history.

The Sun Records Connection

The trip took an even more iconic turn when we moved to the site of the legendary Sun Record Company. Seeing Klaus stand beside that famous yellow rooster logo was a reminder of the "Memphis to Nashville" pipeline that defined the golden age of recording.

It’s one thing to read about a musician who performed on Musikladen or recorded across two continents; it’s another to see the man himself leaning against the siding of a studio that helped shape the sound of the world. Even after years of performing at Oktoberfests and touring as the "Fragstein Duo" with his wife Becky, that sparkle of the "Old Nashville" session singer hasn’t faded.

While the world knew him as "Cliff Nelson" under the studio lights, Klaus’s life was woven into the community in a much more personal way. Between the recording sessions in Nashville and the television appearances in Germany, Klaus built a life in the Denver area that was as much about people as it was about performance.

The Art of the Cut and the Song

In Denver, Klaus was a master of two very different kinds of "styles." As a professional hairdresser, he spent his days in the salon, where his rhythmic precision and flair for transformation extended beyond music. To his clients, he wasn't just a stylist; he was a storyteller with a world-class voice. It wasn't uncommon for the hum of the blow-dryer to be momentarily replaced by Klaus humming a bar of a song he had recently recorded or a melody from his choir days. He possessed that rare "old-school" charisma—making every person in his chair feel like the most important audience in the room.

The King of the German Clubs

When the sun went down, the shears were tucked away, and the entertainer emerged. Klaus became a fixture of the Denver-area German Clubs, such as the Edelweiss German American Club. In these halls, he was the heartbeat of the heritage.

He didn't just sing "German music"; he brought the atmosphere of a Munich beer hall to the Rockies. Singing in 12 languages allowed him to pivot from a traditional German folk song to a soulful country ballad or a high-energy 50s rock-and-roll number without missing a beat. For the local German-American community, Klaus was the bridge back to the "Old Country," providing a sense of home through his music.

Life on the Oktoberfest Circuit

Of course, the pinnacle of his year was always the Oktoberfest circuit. From the bustling streets of Denver’s own celebrations to regional festivals like the Island Oktoberfest, Klaus (often performing as the Fragstein Duo with Becky) was the ultimate master of ceremonies. The Energy: He mastered the art of the "Schunkel"—getting a room full of hundreds of people to link arms and sway in unison. 

The Versatility: One moment he’d be leading a spirited "Prosit der Gemütlichkeit," and the next, he’d be channeling his inner Elvis, proving why the stage name Cliff Nelson carried such weight. Standing outside those Nashville studios during our trip, it was easy to see how his life as a hairdresser and a club entertainer fed his musical soul. He never needed a stadium to be a star; whether he was at a salon station in Denver or on a wooden stage under an Oktoberfest tent, Klaus Fragstein lived his life making sure everyone around him left with a smile and a song in their head.

A Living Legacy

The photos from the day capture more than just a tourist stop. They show a homecoming. Whether he was singing in German or English, or playing the rock-and-roll hits that made Cliff Nelson a name to remember, Klaus’s presence at these studios felt right. As we stood by the historical marker—Becky on one side and Klaus on the other—it was clear that while the buildings might change names and the signs might get weathered, the music Klaus made inside those walls remains a permanent part of the Nashville story.

Rogers Arkansas: Home of the Daisy Air Rifle

The air in Rogers, Arkansas, was crisp and clear—perfect for a spring e-bike ride through the Ozark landscape. Today we did the Rogers Loop from Springdale, a 23-mile stretch that eventually led us right into the heart of downtown Rogers. Standing outside the Daisy Airgun Museum, it was hard to miss the towering "Red Ryder" leaning against the white brick wall, a giant reminder of the childhood staple that has lived in the American imagination for over a century.

Walking through the doors was like stepping into a timeline of mechanical ingenuity. The museum preserves a fascinating history: this company started making BB guns in 1888 in Plymouth, Michigan. However, by 1958, the booming auto industry began creating intense labor competition, prompting Daisy to move its production to Rogers. The story shifted again in the early 1990s when production began moving to China. Today, while most models are shipped from overseas, Rogers remains the hub for all distribution, and a handful of specialized competition models are still crafted right here in the USA.

The walls were lined with nostalgia. We spent a long time looking at the vintage advertisements and paintings that captured the "Golden Age" of the BB gun. There were the classic paintings: a young boy in a red sweater vest, proudly holding his rifle against a backdrop of rolling hills, and another of a family gathered around a target, the father with his pipe and the son beaming with pride. It felt like walking through a gallery of Americana.

The museum is filled with that kind of nostalgia, from the vintage "Singin' Wheels" advertisements to the oil paintings of families gathered around a target. It's a testament to a time when a simple air rifle was a rite of passage, even if some of us used them to "help" John Wayne a little too much.As we moved past the displays of the very first 1889 "Daisy" patent drawings and the "BallistiVet" large animal vaccination systems. One of the coolest parts of the collection was seeing how the designs evolved. We saw the Daisy Model 1894, which had a long production run from 1961 to 1985 and looked exactly like the classic lever-action carbines from the old Westerns.  

There it was, resting behind the glass, was the Daisy Model 1894. Seeing it brought back a specific summer afternoon in the early 1970s. I was sprawled out in front of the family's brand-new color TV, captivated by a John Wayne western. I took aim at an Indian on the screen with my own 1894 Daisy and pulled the trigger.

The "clack" of the spring was followed by a sickening "thwack" as the BB hit the glass. I had certainly left a permanent mark: a perfect, shimmering spider crack right in the middle of our new TV's picture tube.

Back then, you didn't just toss things out when they broke; you fixed them. My dad let that crack serve as a glowing, glass reminder of my marksmanship for a few months before he finally replaced the tube. Seeing that same rifle model in the museum—the wood grain, the lever action—it felt less like an exhibit and more like a piece of my own history.

Before we left, we made sure to get one last look at the "World's Largest" Red Ryder outside. It was the perfect capstone to a day spent exploring a piece of history that, for many, started with the simple words: "You'll shoot your eye out!"

 

The Greatest Museums in the World: The Met, The Louvre, The Prado, and The Hermitage

When I was in the Army, I was taking night classes to get my college degree.  I was required to take two Humanities electives.  So I decided to take Art Appreciation.  It seemed like an easy class, an easy A.  What I didn't count on was learning to appreciate Art.  It's funny how education works sometimes.  Since then, in our travels, we have visited art museums whenever the opportunity arises.  Over the years, we have been lucky enough to visit what some consider the 4 greatest museums in the world.  The Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York; The Louvre in Paris, France; The Prado in Madrid, Spain; and The Hermitage in St. Petersburg, Russia.

Metropolitan Museum of Art

In 2001, I had just retired from the United States Army, so we decided to take a trip to New York City to celebrate.  We were still working, so it was a long Presidents' Day weekend.  Although this was a few years ago, I can remember that the Metropolitan Museum of Art, referred to as the Met, had a Frank Lyod Wright furniture exhibit.  Of course, I remember the 2 most famous paintings at the Met: Washington Crossing the Delaware, a huge painting at 12 X 21 feet, is impressive.  Although less known, Portrait of Madam X left an impression.  

The Louvre  

One cannot think about Paris without thinking about the Louvre.  Its Iconic glass pyramid in the museum's courtyard is the worldwide symbol for Art.  In 2013, I was working in Afghanistan, and our family decided to meet in Paris.  Of course, when in Paris, this should be on anyone's list of destinations.  Most people go to the Louvre to see the Mona Lisa, which we did.  But the Louvre is so much more.   The one thing I remember the most is the bust of George Washington. 

"Jean-Antoine Houdon's marble bust of George Washington, created between 1789 and 1808, is housed in the Louvre Museum in Paris.  Based on a 1785 life mask and studies from Mount Vernon, it is part of several highly accurate neoclassical portraits Houdon produced following a commission from Thomas Jefferson and Benjamin Franklin." - Wikipedia.

The Prado 

In 2022, before our Mediterranean Cruise, we spent a week in Madrid.  The Prado is one of the highlights of our stay in Madrid, Spain.  It houses some of the greatest European Art in existence.  The building was designed in 1785 and originally held only Spanish Art.  It continues to hold the Spanish Royal Collection.  Its 1st catalog was published in 1811.  Spain's most famous artist, Goya, has many works displayed here. 

The museum is divided into four floors.  We began at the top and worked our way into the basement.  The Art from the 11th century to the present is overwhelming and exhausting to take in on only one day.  It was a long day, but it was completely worth it.  We ate in the Museum Cafe for lunch and spent about six hours going through the museum. 

Much like the Mona Lisa at the Louvre in Paris, Goya's "The Executions" is a major attraction at the Prado.  It is a large painting, almost 9 Feet high and 12 Feet wide.  Its theme is emotional and historic, depicting the killing of Spanish rebels in Madrid by conquering Napoleonic French forces on 3 May 1808.  A trip to the Prado is something you will never forget. 

The Hermitage, in St. Petersburg, Russia.  

In 2018, we took a Scandinavian cruise, and at that time, we could visit St. Petersburg, Russia.  We had 2 full tour days there.  One afternoon was dedicated to the Hermitage, formerly known as the Winter Palace. Originally, it was Catherine the Great's winter home.  The palace was stormed during the 1917 revolution.  

The shot was heard worldwide from the Cruiser Aurora, which sparked the 1917 communist revolution.  Now a museum of both the palace and over 3 million pieces of Art.  It is the world's largest art museum, with the 4th-largest art collection.  It was an assault on the senses, overwhelming.  They have Rembrandt's last painting here in the Rembrandt wing.  A couple of El Greco's and 2 Da Vinci's. 
 

Walking through these museums was filled with magical moments.  It was the fulfillment of a dream to see many of the things I studied in that Art Appreciation class years ago.  This is what travel is all about.  It's about education; travel changes you.  

My Year in Afghanistan: Ahmed the Laundry Clerk.

People and their different cultures amaze me. At Bagram in Afghanistan, we have contractors from all over the world. I call it our micro-society of the world at Bagram Airfield, we have Americans, English, Africans, Indians, Uzbek's, Russians, and of course Afghans. The Afghans are more amazed by everything they see. We have truck drivers who wait in a shelter next to where I work who are amazed by a package of cheese and crackers. Sometimes we start an impromptu soccer game, which they immediately recognize.

In the DFAC, sometimes I get there right before closing when the DFAC workers start to eat; what I'm amazed with is that the Indians and Afghans can't get enough sour cream, they eat it with everything, on bread, in rice, by itself like pudding. This is a cultural thing learned young by eating cream separated from the milk of the cow or goat.

At our laundry facility, I got to know some of the people working there just by picking up and dropping off my laundry a couple of times a week. One day, one of the laundry clerks, Ahmed, was complaining about a toothache. I told him I could get him some aspirin for the pain and that he should see a dentist. Although he knew a little English, there was still a big language barrier between the two of us. I came back a couple of hours later to give him the aspirin, which amazingly he had never seen before. I told him again that he needed to see a dentist. He just smiled and nodded yes.

A couple of weeks passed, and I didn't see Ahmed at the laundry facility. I finally asked some of the other clerks, and they told me that Akmed had gotten sick and died. They never did tell me what he died of. That he just got sick and died, again, the language barrier was a problem. I do know I have heard stories from medical personnel there that Afghans can die of the simplest things, and this was probably the case.

The King Ranch: 825,000 Acres of Texas

I once heard someone say that Corpus Christi is a big town surrounded by a whole lot of nothing. If you check a map, you’ll see that most of the space between Corpus Christi and Brownsville, which are about 170 miles apart, is taken up by the King Ranch. This ranch is the largest in the Western Hemisphere, covering 825,000 acres, making it bigger than the country of Luxembourg.

We drove to Kingsville and took a tour today. At first, the ranch looks like any other cattle ranch, but it’s actually a big company with business interests around the world and its main office in Houston. The Texas ranch is divided into four areas: Santa Gertrudis, Laureles, Encino, and Norias. We visited the Santa Gertrudis Division, which is the ranch’s original name and where it all started. The ranch also developed the Santa Gertrudis breed of cattle, officially recognized in 1940 and now found worldwide. There’s a herd of longhorn cattle on the ranch, kept for historical reasons. Besides cattle, the ranch has a top-notch quarter horse program that produced the Triple Crown winner Assault.

During the tour, we drove by the main house and the workers' village. Each division has a self sustaining work force community. An interesting fact is that after the War with Mexico, Robert E. Lee, a friend of Mr. King, helped select the best spot for the main house. The best tactical location for the house was chosen, protected by a creek gully. The house, which you cannot tour, is still used for family events and considered the ranch's ancestral home.

An interesting fact most of the first ranch workers came from Mexico. "In one notable case, King traveled to the village of Cruillas, Tamaulipas, Mexico, in the early months of 1854 (the village having been decimated by a severe drought) and purchased the village's entire cattle population. But shortly after leaving the village, King realized that by solving the village's short-term problem, by providing needed income to survive the drought, he had created a longer-term one by removing its source of future income. King thus returned to Cruillas and offered the villagers the opportunity to work for him in exchange for food, shelter, and income. Many of the villagers accepted the King's offer and relocated to Texas. As the ranch grew, these workers came to be called kineños, or King's men." The ranch’s brand is known worldwide, and its property now covers over a million acres, including a turf farm in Florida. There’s even a special King Ranch edition of a Ford truck.

After we toured the King Ranch, we stopped by the town’s museum. The museum celebrates the King family, the ranch’s cowboys, and its famous brand. The Famous wave "W" is a brand developed because it has no intersections in the writing. These intersections can cause infections because they burn deeper into the tissue. The museum's photo collection depicts the 1940s. If you're in South Texas, you must see the King Ranch.