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Pack Up Your Troubles and Just Get Happy 7/9/2010 4:55:50 AM
Okay, shifting gears. I am going on vacation. That means after writing this blog, the only thing I plan to write is my name, scribbled on a receipt for which someone has served me food or alcohol. I say that with every intention of enjoying the next eight days, partaking in spontaneously planned vacation-like activities. The truth is I suck at vacation.
The preparation alone is enough to make me want to barricade myself in our attic. (That’s really not so bad; our attic is a finished bedroom with a full bath) Nevertheless, it’s not how one should react to a vacation, and I realize that. As all moms can relate, every inch of packing will fall to me. And do you see me busy packing? Nah! Why make sure the wash is done, suitcases readied when I can sit here and do this? Regardless, we won’t make the Mass Pike before someone yells, “Did you bring…” To which I will reply, “Uh, no. Was it your intention to brush your teeth while we were away?” Everyone has a different standard for vacationing. For thirteen-year old boys, I believe hygiene, or a lack thereof, is the main goal.
At the opposite end of the vacation universe, one of my very best friends just returned from hers. She and her family spent a week in Colorado at a music festival. Okay, there would be problem number one for me. The focus of their holiday was to be outdoors, enjoying the sun and the fun and the music. After about ten minutes of that I’d be looking for the comfy chair, complaining that insects are eating me alive and, OMG, you don’t really expect me to use that bathroom? Yeah, it’s not what I do best.
Thanks to Facebook, my friend and her family shared their trip with all of us in real time. No waiting for those home movies nowadays. To be honest, I’ve never seen people so adept at having a good time. Really, they should do a self-help book for the vacationally challenged. I’d buy a copy. But in my defense, and hers, my friend is a born traveler. I’ve known her for a quarter of a century, in which time she could have circled the earth repeatedly with nothing but a backpack, Birkenstocks, and a toothbrush. She has excellent hygiene—even for a wanderer. She’s that type, comfortable with a boardroom or surfboard. I’ve tried taking cues from her, that come as you are, and “whatever happened to communes?” attitude. It’s an enviable quality, and she’s really good at it. Going all the way back to our roommate days, I’ve tried to emulate it. Fortunately, however, you get to a point in life where wisdom kicks in. It is here you realize that you are a proud person of creature comforts, and if there’s any wild-child behavior to be had, it’s coming by way of a five-star hotel and a hot rock massage.
Even if these amenities are part of my vacation repertoire, it’s not something I approach with great zeal. I think writers, by nature, are routine oriented folk. But unless you’re recluse writer folk, with no one to answer to except maybe your manifesto, you’ve got to go with the flow. That means come Monday, I will not slip safely inside my sunroom, a place that allows me to be one up on the world, meeting covertly with pretend people over whom I have autonomous control. On Monday I will be negotiating the Smithsonian museums. I’ll be hobbling along in my sporty new tennis shoes that, by ten a.m., will have rewarded me with a blister. I will be equally irked that I have driven five hundred miles to satisfy a boy whose happiness will be purchased via a six dollar hot dog from a street vendor. On Wednesday I’ll find myself beach bound, trading our concrete nation’s capital for a sand laced bag of potato chips and dirty looks when my family realizes I didn’t pack the beach toys either.
Those Facebook pictures of my friend’s trip have been on my mind. It’s a challenge to post something, if not darling, that at least avoids the photo of me standing on the National Mall, yelling at my son for packing nothing but black socks. Oh, wait. I did all the packing, didn’t I? Anyway, while I harbor no fantasies about competing with their excellent adventure, I want to post photographs that depict happy family fun. I know, I’ll snap candids. Well, not of us, but free spirited family types who are having a terrific time on our vacation. :)
