You can always tell it’s summer without a calendar, because everybody mysteriously vanishes. Well, maybe not everybody: we still need a certain number of people to be on duty in various professions, so they stay around while the rest of humanity fries their body fat on a beach somewhere. I say kudos to those dedicated people who don’t abandon their jobs for Antigua or cut the week short for a few days in Cancun. I salute you, because I don’t go on vacation either.
The last time I went on vacation, my family and I rented a place at the shore, and the neighbors downstairs swapped out our cable on us. That was years ago.
Something happens to people when they go on vacation, probably because they leave the comforts of home at home, yet still feel entitled to them anyplace else they go. If I went to the shore today, I probably would not have problems with cable theft, because everybody watches shows on a stick these days. It’s a great anti-theft idea for summer residences, because nobody can break into your utility box and swap out your stick. I suppose the cost of a beach house today is based upon whether or not the television can accomodate your stick.
We don’t seem to mind that we go to a vacation home or hotel and subject ourselves to the detritus of hundreds of other people who have done the same things before us. We sleep in beds in which dozens of folks shed their dead skin, ate or drank wine or made whoopie, and we overlook it because we need a place to sleep. We go to overpriced attractions, eat enough calories that we could starve ourselves for a month, and all for the sake of getting away from it all.
Yet we strive and struggle to get it all at home, and then when we get it all, we go on vacation to get away from it.
In other countries they have holidays, which are really multi-day or -week excursions away from work. Businesses shut down for holiday, and everybody meets up at some sun-soaked destination to enjoy time away from it all. With their coworkers.
In fact, I just saw on CBS today that some companies have a Friday holiday: workers simply put in extra hours Monday through Thursday, then the place shuts down and everybody takes Friday off.
I hate places that shut down on weekends. Correction: I hate the fact that I have always worked in places that do not shut down on weekends, so rather than curse myself–which is fruitless-I hate them.
Lots of folks look forward to retirement, which is supposed to be one long vacation. Of course one is older and less spry to enjoy some vacations which are better enjoyed in youth, but still we look forward to getting away from it all someday.
After retirement comes the real getaway from it all, where hotel beds don’t matter anyway.
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