8 Awesome Lessons I learned on the 2026 80s Cruise

May 14, 2026

Only a month ago, we were sailing through the Caribbean, partying aboard a nostalgic utopia—seven days and nights celebrating our collective past while fully living in the moment.

As Madonna once sang, “Music brings the people together,” and never was that more true than on the Adventurer of the Seas. While we may have had our individual leanings—new wave, hair metal, classic rock, ’80s pop—The 80s Cruise united us. (Mostly) bound together by our birth years, we found community while dancing to tunes spun by Retro DJ Travis Bell, marveling at the award-winning Beetlejuice Dinner Scene (and choreography!), and learning how Gary Numan composed “Cars,” thanks to Christian Hand’s breakdown session.

That week, we replaced 2026 cable news with MTV Spring Break. We put aside allegiances to political parties, choosing instead to cast votes, sartorially: Punk or Prep. Each night, we celebrated our glory days, usually while wearing garish getups ranging from mullet wigs to disco-era bell-bottoms to caftans à la Mrs. Roper. We laughed and we cried (remember: “The 80s Cruise cures cancer!”), and we went off-ship for our first-ever concert on land: Rock the Dock!

So much fun! No wonder I’m still thinking about the time we spent together—and all the lessons I learned that week. These worthwhile gems are ones I’m now trying to incorporate into the other 51 weeks of my year. I’m sharing them in the hopes you might, too:

Nile Rodgers and Chic know what’s up! On the cruise, we left our cares behind. We found a place out on the floor. Everybody danced! Yes, it’s true that the real world brings real problems, and maybe busting a move won’t always solve them. But when all that pressure’s got you down, feel the rhythm, check the rhyme. Tell yourself: These. Are. The. Good. Times!

There were several thousand of us on that ship—the size of a small town. Every day, we made new friends, greeted each other in the corridors, left cheerful notes on cabin doors, distributed swag, held elevator doors, sang songs in strangers’ faces (at least I did!). There was so much kindness, joy, and laughter—and it was infectious. We are the ones who make a brighter day, so let’s start giving. It doesn’t take much. To quote Wonder Mike from the Sugarhill Gang: “Say hello—to the black, to the white, the red and the brown, the purple and yellow.” In other words: Be excellent to each other! (How I loved that Bill & Ted’s Excellent Adventure group costume.)

A favorite cruise moment: I walked into the Windjammer for lunch and ended up being serenaded by a Royal Caribbean staffer who turned ’80s tunes into odes to banishing bacteria. “Like a virgin, washin’ for the very first time,” he sang, off-key, strumming a ukulele. Next: “Now I’m freeeeeeee, free washing.” Petty was probably turning in his grave, but chances are high I’ll never pass a public sink again without thinking of him — or stopping to clean my hands. As one towel-toting couple reminded us during the costume contest: “You’re not really clean until you’re Zestfully clean!”

“Can you live your fantasy life?” Aldo Nova asked—and we answered: HELL, YES! Let’s face it: It takes a lot to plan a week away from your job and your kids — and to plan your cruise outfits routine (and figure out how to get them onboard without exceeding the airline’s 50-pound luggage limit!). But we did it. We committed to this crazy cruise, and we brought it big-time. Kudos! Now apply that mindset to everyday life. Go big or go home! How many summers do we Gen Xers have left? Make them count. My personal motto comes from Duran Duran’s “Save a Prayer”: “You don’t have to dream it all—just live a day.”

I was standing backstage when Bret Michaels’ band launched into that party anthem. Off in a corner, their leader jumped up and down, ran in place, and air-punched like a boxer about to enter the ring. Seconds later, he grabbed his hype-man/bodyguard: “Get everyone on their feet!” The guy did as told, and the audience’s enthusiastic reaction made Michaels pogo higher and faster. Seeing me out of the corner of his eye, he briefly broke character to thank me for the intro—and then it was showtime. He took the stage like a conquering hero and the crowd went wild, I thought: Nope, it doesn’t get better than this. A few nights later, I spent the final hours of the 2026 80s Cruise in the Crow’s Nest bar on Deck 14. Near midnight, DJ Christopher played Jesus Jones, and I found myself on the dance floor, eyes closed, singing, “Right here, right now, there is no other place I’d rather be.” That’s why I’m coming back in 2027. And ’28. And ’29…!

If you don’t stop and look around once in a while, you could miss it. Take time to smell the roses—or, in 80s Cruise parlance: lounge by the pool, relax in the hot tub, make yourself a cocktail (or mocktail), lose yourself at a concert, dress up — and talk with friends IN REAL LIFE

Keep in touch with your cruise friends all year long—via text, email, The 80s Cruise Facebook groups, and other social media. (BTW, I’m @lorimajewski—friend me, follow me, DM me!) I’m also on a cruise-related WhatsApp chat, and I love reading about all the planning that goes into your outrageous outfits, unofficial flash mobs, and more.

What better cure for this millennium’s blues? See you in New Orleans for Year 11!