I have just returned from New York City, fresh from a College Media Convention. I helped administer an awards contest for college journalists. I slept in a room not much larger than a concrete block. I drank enough coffee to reclassify my genetic makeup. I ate enough black and white cookies to reclassify my genetic makeup. And along the way, I learned several practical, personal and spiritual lessons about traveling — the kind that only a city like The Big Apple can teach you. • When you’re in a hotel, and you’ve waited A LONG TIME for an elevator, don’t just assume when the doors open you’re on the right floor. Take the time to look at the number BEFORE you hop off screaming, “FINALLY!” Because it may only be the 20th floor … and you’re on the 43rd! Also, remember that when you’re embarrassed, hot and now really frustrated, you’re likely to repeat it all over again when it stops on the 35th floor. And at that rate, you’ll never get back to your room. • If you repeat the former lesson more than three times, go back to bed! • If a friend tells you it will only take 20 minutes and an easy subway transfer to get from Midtown to Brooklyn for dinner, know that your friend is a liar and immediately report him to authorities. He’s also probably running an illegal gambling racket. “Oh yeah, it will take no time,” he said. Only the E train wasn’t running, and I […]
For a kid and a dog, the joys of mountain running
To be a kid again. Or a dog. Never was a dog, but I could have been. After a week in the mountains of Blowing Rock, North Carolina, I would definitely take another childhood. Or a doghood. We rented a cabin. It looked like it had fallen out of the sky and landed teetering on a steep ridge overlooking a stream. There were old logging roads and lots of trees and not a living soul but us. The only way to the cabin was on a gravel “road” that could have been a ski jump if it wasn’t broken up by so many switchbacks. You know you’re in for a wild ride when your road comes with instructions for navigating it. You also know you’re going somewhere isolated. Away from people. And where your clan can run wild and free. To be a kid again. Or a dog.
The call of the museum gift shop
“When are we going to the gift shop?” Those were the words from my daughter. It was the 3,200th time I had heard it. In the last 20 minutes. We were in the nation’s capital. In the Smithsonian National Air and Space Museum. We were surrounded — literally swarmed — by towering rockets, Mars landers, lunar rocks, Wright brothers planes and lots of lost tourists who thought they were at the White House. They couldn’t figure out why there were satellites hanging from the president’s ceiling. “Look at this!” I told my daughter. “An actual Apollo command module! This thing went into space. See the burn marks from re-entry. See! See! See!” “Eh,” she said. “Now, is the gift shop upstairs or down?” Aaaghhh!
Signs of vacation on the brain
It’s called “vacation on the brain.” It can be a debilitating condition, and every year it afflicts millions of Americans who can’t stop thinking about an upcoming trip. For some it means loss of sleep, twitchy legs, mis-matching socks, only shaving one side of your face, putting on sunscreen and goggles for no apparent reason, carrying fold-out roadmaps, and loss of productivity at work. (And let’s be honest: Most of us were already pretty un-productive as it was.) Vacation on the brain is a serious epidemic. Think you might be suffering from it? Here are a few warning signs to watch out for: • Do you practice loading the car in the middle of the night? Do you critique previous loading strategies for trips? “What were you thinking last year stacking a water jug on top of the Oreos!?!” Do you draw complex, geometry-defying diagrams for how suitcases, a cooler the size of Delaware and 11,000 toys your child plans to bring will fit in perfectly? Do you share strategies on Internet message boards with other obsessive car loaders (who may or may not inhabit insane asylums)? • Do you find yourself staring at Google maps and studying driving routes for hours? Do you calculate fuel stops and research interstate gas stations/coffee stops, all in an attempt to “maximize efficiency?” (If you have actually read gas station reviews online, or consider a particular gas station because it has a great view AND donuts, you might need immediate medical attention.)
A TRUE Disney dream come true
Some people dream of riding rocket ships. Climbing to the top of Mt. Everest. Traveling to far off lands where they teach remote villages how to play “Candy Crush” on their iPhones. Then there is me. My dream? Much more epic: To arrive with my family at Disney World’s Magic Kingdom just as the park opens, allowing us to scamper about, deliriously riding whatever we want while unimpeded by crowds. In my fantasy land we do everything … twice! … before most people even get off the parking lot trams. There is a parade for us. Triumphant music plays. Park management declares we have broken a Guinness record for accomplishing 220 rides before 9 a.m. They give us each a medal while we recover in the medical tent (possibly while we are hooked up to IVs.) THIS is my dream! Last weekend I came as close to accomplishing it as I have ever been. It wasn’t easy. To make it happen, I first had to make a spiritual journey. I had to go to another “place” where I was transformed into a new person. I call him: “Lunatic Dad.” Lunatic Dad rises before the crack of dawn, drinks about $45 worth of Starbucks coffee and then proceeds to march about the hotel room screaming like a drill sergeant: “People! Do you have no respect for yourselves?!? Do you think Small World will come to your pretty little behinds?!? Do you think the rest of the 15 million people going to […]