We decided to do something different — different for us. We always take vacations out of the country. During the weeks before leaving we whine a lot. By we, I mean me. I’ve never gotten the knack of packing, and always return with a suitcase full of clothes I never got to wear.
Shuttle costs to and from the airport are exorbitant. Then there’s the agony of airport lines, getting through security, physical discomfort on planes, and inedible airplane food. On our last trip I ordered a fruit and cheese platter. The photograph on the menu had me drooling. What I got — I kid you not — were three one-inch squares of cheese, three crackers and — I swear — two tiny dried apricot slices — for $7.98.
Because I’ve had so many joint replacements, Security has to pat me down; always using unattractive women, instead of the handsome men I request.
During my last pat-down I stood in a small glass booth, hands out at my sides, and legs spread, when Mighty Marc, who was standing right outside the booth decided he needed his passport, which I was carrying. He reached for the door knob and came this close to being shot, when armed security guards grabbed and frisked him. It happened so fast neither of us knew what the hell was happening.
So, when I said, “This time, let’s take a road trip. We have friends and relatives up and down the east coast. Wouldn’t it be fun to spend several days with each of them, and visit landmarks along the way?” He gave me thumbs up.
AAA helped plan the route. What fun we would have.
Marc said, “Let’s make it a real adventure, and rent a mobile home. Why pay for motels and spend money eating every meal out? Instead, you can prepare meals while I drive.”
“Sweetheart,” I said, “Do you remember our beautiful, renovated kitchen, with every modern convenience? If so, then you must certainly know I’ve never been in it. So, why would I enjoy cooking on vacation, in a small box on wheels?”
We looked at a mobile home that was described as spacious. By spacious, they meant large enough to comfortably accommodate three generations of mice. It had a lovely wood interior, and a wall to wall…literally…king size bed that could only be accessed from the foot of the bed, on knees.
Packing would be easy. Each of the two silverware drawers would comfortably hold two shirts. There was space for two-and-a-half pairs of shoes in the cabinet over the fridge, and ample room for toiletries and cosmetics in the oven I had no plans to use.
I had some trouble getting through the narrow bathroom door, but was assured I’d get the hang of sliding in sideways after the first week or so.
We were advised to park at campsites, and take taxis to our destinations. I let that thought marinate for about 45 seconds. Then I said, “Honey, maybe a plane trip wouldn’t be so bad after all. Flying domestic is easier than overseas. We could rent a car at the airport and drive to each destination."
Marc said, “Makes sense,” and we began investigating plane schedules and fares. Three days later I said, “Do you remember that fun train trip we took to Florida several years back? We even brought our car with us. Maybe we should consider doing that this time? As I recall, the train restaurant was excellent."
“Good idea, if that’s what you want,” he said. “I’ll check into it."
We were excited, so I notified everyone and informed them when to expect us.
A week later I said, nervously, “Remind me why we want a vacation that requires endless hours of driving, hanging out at people’s homes, using their washing machines, then driving a whole lot more."
“We wanted to visit our grandson in Savannah, during his first year of college,” he said. “Why? Are you having fifth thoughts?"
“Well, let’s just say that nothing about this trip is exciting me."
He smiled. “Here’s a thought. Let’s stay home. We love our home. Why would we want to be anywhere else this time of year?"
“I know. My feelings exactly. We can plan several weekend getaways."
“Now, that’s a plan I can live with,” he said.
“I’m so relieved. This is the happiest I’ve been since we decided to take a vacation."
“I’m thinking our next vacation should be a restful one, where we lounge around doing barely anything, and all our meals are served to us."
“Like in a padded cell?"
“Exactly.”
Laverne's book, "How The (Bleep) Did I Get This Old?" is available at amazon.com and other online bookstores. Website: www.lavernebardy.com - E-mail her at: This email address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it.