This is sad. I've realized that I had, again, forgotten the art of the vacation. As I've suggested, this has happened before.
First off, I need to define vacation. Generally speaking, visiting the relatives, as much as I love them, does NOT qualify as vacation. One exception: I went to visit my sister Leslie in the late 1980s in San Diego, and we went together to San Francisco.
When I was working at FantaCo, I didn't go on vacation much, especially in the early years. I didn't think I could afford to, either monetarily or workload-wise. I distinctly recall Tom pretty much insisting I take some time off, so I took five Wednesdays in a row, and went to a movie matinee almost each week.
I did make it up to Montreal in 1992, but that was a business trip. (Also, in 1991, but that's another story.) Indeed, I HAVE gotten to go lots of places for work and had time to play.
In my current job, the first real vacation I took was in 1998. I took off two weeks, which I seriously doubt I've ever done before or since, again excluding family trips. The first week, I went to Detroit to visit a friend, and saw a Tigers game, Motown and Henry Ford mementos, etc. I had intended to spend the second week at home, catching up on my clutter, but ended up going to DC to try out for a game show.
In 1999, Carol and I did the honeymoon in Barbados, but then my wife was a poor college student, so I can't recall going anywhere until our 2002 trip to Concord, NH, followed by our 2003 trip to Maine. Nothing since, though, which seems to have correlated with the addition to the household.
So, it was Christmas 2005 or was it Christmas 2004?- when when my parents-in-law offered us, and their other children as well, to make use of their timeshares, which are all over the country. But one has to book these things well in advance. My wife must have booked ours late last year for the last week in June. If she told me the dates, it must not have stuck in my mind, for in the beginning of the year, I scheduled my annual physical for the same week, which I subsequently had to postpone.
I think it's because the description of the place sounded OK, but the notion of the vacation seemed rather fuzzy. "It'll be a chance to get away." Away from what? Work? I can take off days from work without going anywhere. It was a week when my wife was off from school before starting to work on summer school. I suppose if the literature for the place wasn't filled with things such as "close to" all these other places, I might have been more excited. What inherent enjoyment will we find at the place, I was wanting to know? And lacking that, I was not very enthused about the trip.
This was going to go on, but:
Big storm in Albany on Monday evening - electricity in our house for over 11 hours (6:40 pm-6 am) + the hottest night in the year - electricity at Lydia's day care on Tuesday + Roger watching Lydia = Story To Be Continued
And speaking of sad, cartoonist Doug Marlette died in a car crash. He drew a great Reagan.
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