Sunday, March 21, 2010

If vacations were outlawed, only outlaws would go on vacation

Okay, Spring Break is over, time to get back to the real world. Did you really think you could spend the rest of your life on the beach? Grow up.

Vacations are overrated anyways. You pack up all your clothes, head out to the beach, spend a few days having a great time, and downright hate the thought of having to go back to work. And when you DO go back, you end up making a mess of things because you can’t stop dreaming about being out in the ocean, picking up seashells, and feeding the seagulls.

Vacations are moments of joy that sooner or later must come to an end so you can go and do “The Job” thing.

Because that’s what life is all about – work. Vacations are just an interruption of that work. Work that pays the rent. Work that buys the groceries. Work that allows you to subscribe to satellite television and get more channels than you’ll ever have time to watch. Work that pays for your vacations which end up making you miserable because you have to go back to work.

So, when I’m in charge, there will be no more vacations. Maybe three-day weekends every now and then, but any time off longer than that will be frowned upon.

And don’t say you’ve “earned” a little bit of downtime. Just because you work 12-hour days, six days a week, doesn’t mean you’re entitled to head south to the coast, soak up some rays, build sandcastles with your kids, and buy nautical souvenirs to remind you of the great time you and your family had together.

You’re also not entitled to head to the Tiki Bars, drink Pina Coladas, and sing along with the cover band who’s performing hits from the 70s (the only decade that ever had any really great music) and not some heebie-jeebie beat-box pseudo music that doesn’t have words, and if it did, you wouldn’t understand them, and if you did, you’d wish you didn’t.

Oh, yes, there may be no better way to spend Spring Break than going to a beach – unless of course, you’re heading up to the mountains to ski – but since vacations will be frowned upon, and going skiing is the most pretentious of all vacations, you should be ashamed just thinking about it.

And why would you want to go skiing anyways? Are you crazy? Work 12 hours a day so you can afford a long trip up mountain passes covered with snow, put on a pair of 2x4s, then hurl yourself down a mountain with a lot of other crazy daredevils, not giving a single thought about the things you should be thinking of, like timetables, responsibilities, paying the water bill, or feeding the goats, and certainly not giving a thought to how you could fall and break a leg and never again be able to do “The Job” like you used to. Does that sound like fun to you?

And don’t forget – there’s snowboarding, too!

Sure, once down the slope, you can ride up the ski lift, enjoy scenery that you’ll never see in Texas, breathe in the cold, fresh air, then head down the mountain again, swerving and swooshing past other people who are having just as good a time as you are, but then what are you going to do next? Meet up with your friends or family, head over to the lodge to warm up next to a roaring fire, savor a cup of hot cocoa, talk about how much you would rather spend the rest of your life skiing down mountains than working at “The Job,” then go up the mountain and do it again? Like I said, are you crazy?

If going on a skiing trip is living the high life, then I’m thinking your priorities might be a bit skewed. The high life should be your work, your job, how you make money, how you pay the bills, and how you’re going to spend your “waning years” living off Social Security and your 401K. It is not about vacations and other such frivolous things.

I must confess, though, that I went to Galveston this week to watch my baby girl dance in a competition. I spent time on the beach. I ate a lot of expensive food. I enjoyed living the life of a buccaneer. But now it’s time to get back to work and be the person “The Job” expects me to be.

But I sure wish I was back in Galveston. I think the Pirate Life agrees with me.

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