COME, MY FAMELLEE

We boarded the Queen Mary, docked in Long Beach, California, and found our appointed guide for a walking tour of the ship.

Standing behind a Dutch door, we asked the tall gentleman if it was where we needed to be, and he gave us his assurance that it was.
The thing about Mr. James was that he reminded me of someone else I knew by the first name of Jim, the resemblance was striking, and I was willing to bet it was one and the same. Mr. James had a very courtly manner, and over stated diction, exuding each and every syllable precisely and clearly, in a slow deliberate manner.
His gestures were as over stated as his diction, giving the group of about 10 people a show within the tour. His knowledge of the Queen Mary was extensive, sometimes leading his group with a question to titillate and even entice!

As we progressed through the tour, he would throw his hand over his shoulder in a long sweeping arch like movement, saying: “Come, my famellee” as we followed him.


His voice rose to great heights and fell to great depths, all in one sentence, and the dramatics had us all on the verge of applauding after each performance. It seemed to me that he was more than a tour guide, he was a Shakespearean actor, trained to annunciate and articulate all of his words, not a letter being wasted.
As we descended into the bowels of the ship, he lead us to what people claimed was a haunted portion of the ship. Backing up that theory with tales that he experienced, Mr. James then played on our imaginations in his theatrical fashion, the possibility that someone was watching!

He took us to the main lounge, the smoking room, where the dances and parties were held. He told us about the many celebrities that traversed the decks and pathways of the great ship, all in his exciting and amusing manner. HE was worth the price of admission.


If you ever get to Long Beach, Ca., go to the Queen Mary and sign up for the tour, ask what time Mr. James begins his show. I TIPPED HIM AT THE END.