As warm and
warmer weather moves in and school sessions end for the summer, I hear of
more people taking vacations. Some drive or fly or travel by motorcycle to
Wisconsin, Ohio or Virginia, or just take a short jaunt in Illinois by
train.
Usually
people plan these trips in advance, even if some of the preparations aren’t
finished until the last minute.
The
other day I took an unexpected mini-vacation with no real planning except
that I’d had a dental checkup scheduled since the previous appointment
six months ago. I wasn’t even doing the same job then, but late in the
day on a Tuesday still looked like a suitable time slot. On the appointed
afternoon, I left work more than an hour before the usual closing time. I
had a sense of freedom, like skipping the last class of the day at school
but with no retribution in store.
I handed in
my insurance form at the office window and sat down to wait for my turn.
The magazine I selected turned out to be the last monthly issue of Life.
I looked at articles about very premature babies and about older people
falling in love. I saw how much the area devastated by the eruption of
Mount St. Helens has recovered in 20 years.
I had
leisure to browse through the pages as much as I wanted while the
employees behind the reception room door caught up on a busy afternoon
schedule.
When it was
my turn in the reclining chair, all I had to do was relax, sometimes with
my mouth open, and there was no bad news. In between procedures, I scanned
the room for decorative items of interest, noting especially a so-called
hillbilly toothbrush with a stub of corncob for the brush.
Then I let
the staff set up my next appointment and went back out into the balmy air,
with no bill to settle just then.
I decided
there was no rush to go home. The evening before I’d enjoyed walking at
dusk in a misty Eden of pink and white blooming trees. This was a chance
to enjoy the outdoors by daylight, without time constraints from
approaching darkness. With a small errand in mind, I walked downtown,
wondering if springtime had been so idyllic in other years. At the
library, I scanned a dozen or so game books for an elusive piece of
information, not finding exactly what I wanted just then but entertained
with other curiosities, such as ideas for children’s birthday parties
and directions for making flibbers from old newspapers.
I had a big
stack of papers at home for practice material. I didn’t understand
exactly what the last diagram in the instructions meant and considered
checking out the book for reference in case I decided to try. There were
two copies on the shelf, so anyone else with more important reasons for
knowing how could still have the necessary information. Then I ran into a
slight mental block about checking out a children’s book. Wishing to
appear somewhat businesslike, on a vacation evening or not, I decided it
would be best to check out an adult book too. Eventually I concluded I
didn’t need the children’s book after all. I could still set aside
adult responsibilities and spend unstructured time like a child. I hadn’t
been doing anything productive for several hours already. I might as well
take the whole evening off.
I picked an
author I liked from previous reading and maintained enough time sense to
choose a short book of short stories so I could finish a whole selection
that night without missing too much sleep. I read the shortest first and
finished the others too. One story was set in Paris, another on an island
near Nova Scotia and one not far from where I grew up. It wasn’t quite a
glimpse of home, since the author’s experiences in the area were from
the time of Laura Ingalls Wilder, but there were familiar references. When
the text mentioned the land between the Platte River and the state border,
I knew where that was without consulting a map. In case I felt too warm,
the narrative also included a blizzard.
Bringing my
mind back to Illinois, I realized it had been a satisfying vacation, with
no tickets to buy, no packing, no travel exhaustion, no spiels from tour
guides, no decisions about motels and restaurants, and it didn’t cost me
anything, unless the insurance company decides I need to pay part of the
dental fee. Some vacations have a deductible.