My
father was a dairy farmer, the type of one-man operation that has all
but disappeared from our area. From the time of his honeymoon to his
retirement nearly 37 years later, he averaged one day of vacation a
year. Often, his lone day off would be a trip with my uncles to play
the ponies at Arlington Park. My mother rarely received even that
limited respite from her responsibilities as farmer's wife and its
daily regimen of cooking, cleaning and child-rearing. Any leisure
time my parents afforded themselves needed to fall between the
morning milking and the evening milking. Their bosses were literally
bossies; four or five dozen Holsteins who dictated the work schedule.
When
I think about my parents' lives, it makes me all the more grateful to
have a job that allows me to take vacation, and that we have the
opportunity to use that time to create family memories. My wife and I
and our two college-age children recently made the long drive out
west to visit all five of Utah's spectacular national parks.
I've
come to think of vacations as more than sight-seeing tours. They have
become the mental equivalent of a cleanse, a detox for the soul. Like
a Lenten Season Catholic,
I give up things. This year's list was longer than usual: work
e-mail, Facebook, caffeine, soda and, um, shaving.
Shaving
aside, these took some determination. Not checking my work e-mail –
and doing actual work – can be a challenge for me. The urge is
strong to make sure all is going smoothly with the job that finances
these trips. I've written proposals from log cabins Up Nort' and
responded to ad agency inquiries standing by the Hollywood sign. But
the point of this trip was to be present with my family, consumed by
nothing except our time together and the amazing works of nature
around us.
There
are ways to break habits, and as Occam's Razor states, the simplest
solution is usually the right one. Once upon a time, I had a tendency
to spend weekend afternoons woofing down an entire package of Double
Stuf Oreos. At some point I realized that, gee, if they aren't in the
house, I can't eat them. So I stopped bringing them home from the
grocery store. Likewise, to ensure there would be no succumbing to
temptation on this trip, the Gmail application was completely removed
from my Smartphone. Ditto the Facebook app, as virtual interactions
with friends had become habitual to the point of addiction. Once
deleted, however, I didn't give either a second thought. Out of sight
was truly out of mind.
Foregoing
caffeine had the potential to be painful, and by all rights, it
should have been. When your usual daily intake is the equivalent of
over a full pot of coffee and/or multiple sodas, you should expect a
honey of a caffeine-withdrawal headache, but it never came. It feels
like I cheated the system, going cold turkey without adverse
symptoms.
Naturally,
once vacation was over, the e-mail app was re-installed. So was
Facebook, though I seriously considered deactivating my account and
walking away from it for good. Unfortunately, I feel like I can't,
because people would either think I unfriended them or died.
Not
all of the vacation sacrifices were temporary. My eschewance of soda
has been completely maintained; good riddance to aspartame and
brominated vegetable oil. And I've only had caffeinated coffee during
my regular Sunday morning visits with my mother and brother. Not
because I find their company to be sleep-inducing, but because it
seems wrong to drink decaf out of the Waffle House mug that I keep at
my mother's house. Drinking decaf at a Waffle House (or at my mom's,
for that matter) would be like eating a veggie burger at Culver's.
As
for shaving, I met that one halfway. Let's just say this column might
need a new photo.
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