The Vacation, Part II

Our vacation, in the truest sense of the term, began in earnest after we left Texas and found ourselves driving in a generally south-easterly direction towards the Gulf Coast of Alabama. With each passing mile, we found the temperature rising, the humidity increasing, and the local languages spoken less and less discernable. There is an interesting correlation there, between rising temperatures and the thickness of the Southern accent, which leads me to conclude that the atmosphere in Hades will likely be quite similar to that found in Biloxi, MS. Or vice versa.

Speaking of Hades, the most pleasant aspect of our vacation was the astronomical dew points recently discovered in the area of Gulf Shores, Alabama. And when I say, "pleasant," I mean that in the sense that it was like a fate worse than death itself. The dew point is a meteorological term which refers to the temperature at which the water found in the air will condensate and form dew. It is also a handy measure of how humid it feels. Generally speaking, one does not notice the humidity until the dew point rises above 60. In my native land of New England, the dew point rarely ever rises above 70, but when it does, it is defined as, meteorologically speaking, uncomfortable and oppressive. Dew points above 80 are fairly uncommon, even in the south. But in Gulf Shores, our domestic location of vacationing choice, the dew points the whole week were in the low 80's.

So it was very hot and very humid. So unaccustomed were we to such humidity that during a day trip one afternoon, Jeff climbed out of the van (which doesn't have operable air conditioning), ran his hand through his hair, and queried, "Why is my hair all wet?" Well, son, that's called perspiration, a liquid found commonly in the south, but which is not usually safe to drink.

Our first full day at the condo was the anniversary of my birth, so, in celebration, we went to the grocery store because we had run out of food several days previous, and the kids were beginning to complain. The rest of my birthday was quite enjoyable as we played in the "pool" and the ocean, ate some good food, and watched animals eat each other on the Discovery Channel.

The next day, we took a day trip to visit the USS Alabama, a large Navy Destroyer with a lengthy self-guided tour, which must have come in very helpful to naval recruits back in the day. We also went through a submarine, which appeared capable of supporting all of about approximately three people in comfort. And by three people, I mean three dwarfs.

The rest of our vacation in Alabama was relatively uneventful, as vacations should be. The ocean temperature was perfect, the crowds were sparse, the quality time together was valuable, and the cell phone was out of range.

Saturday, the 10th of October, we traveled to the land of our foremothers. The land of cotton, the land of Dixie, the land of Sherman's March to the Sea. Our primary purpose in visiting this particular domestic location was so that Mary could assist with preparing a wedding reception for the Turner newlyweds. And prepare she did.

If you were to look up the word overambitious in the dictionary, a picture of my wife would be found in the margin by way of explanation of the definition. I pointed this out to Mary one day, but she disagreed with Webster, so she copied the entire dictionary over by hand, omitting her image from its pages. So when it came time to prepare for this reception, Mary (personal motto: Texas is too small for me) noted that there were 6 names on the RSVP list and determined that there should be servings prepared for, at a minimum, at least 700 persons. Because you never know what might happen.

So, Mary thought about food all week. I took care of the children. Mary bought food. I took the children to the playground. Mary daydreamed about food. I took the children fishing. Mary practiced eating food. I sold the children into slavery. Mary invented new kinds of food. I took care of the children some more. But not that I am bitter; there were definitely some highlights.

Highlight #1: I had Wednesday off as a breather. I was able to leave the house, sit for a long time in a restaurant, talk to some friends on the phone, and get into my vehicle without buckling four or five seatbelts. That was a nice day.

Highlight #2. Tuesday, I took the kids over to the Fishing Grandpa's house for some fishing. We managed to "catch" the fish at their feeding time, so we managed to catch quite a few in a relatively short amount of time. Everyone caught a fish except Diane. She just wandered around the dock with a sawed-off 12-gauge shotgun and occasionally took shots into the water. The fish she "caught" weren't fit for eating, to say the least. And eat the fish is what we did during...

Highlight #3. Thursday evening, we ate most of the fish caught during Tuesday's expedition. All of them except the biggest one, which Ruth caught, and the little ones, which we had thrown back into the lake in a carefree manner. With the fish, we enjoyed some good hush puppies and some sweet iced tea. Ain't nothin' like it.

At the end of that week was the aforementioned reception, and the food was every bit worthy of its time consuming preparation. There were lots of people there too, but not so many that I couldn't enjoy plenty of spinach dip.

Sunday, after church and potluck, which was more like pot of soup, we headed in a generally north-easterly direction to my brother Derek's house in South Carolina. He lives there, in his house, with his wife, and their recently acquired twin daughters. We enjoyed a meal together, consisting of garden salad, chicken lasagna, and brownie mix that Derek insisted he had baked. After the meal, we enjoyed "interacting" with them and their children and hoping that our children wouldn't tear the house down.

Now, after a long 17-hour drive on Monday, we are home in the frigid north. Mount Monadnock has snow on its peak already, and the fall leaves are falling quite rapidly. Tomorrow, I will get back to work. I've downloaded my e-mail, gone through the mail, and perused my inbox, and have figured that if I work all day, six days a week, I should be caught up by November. Of next year. Even later if I have to take bathroom breaks. But our vacation has been every bit worth it. 0 children (and parents) were sick, which is a miracle rivaling the creation in magnitude. We drove through 23 states, logged over 4,000 miles, and slept in 6 different domestic locations. We encountered 1 turtle in the road, 1 jellyfish in the sea, and nearly ran into 3 deer. But most importantly, we found rest and refreshment and satisfaction in the journey. Thank God for vacations.

Click here to see a few pictures from our travels. Thanks to Jane for letting us use her camera.

The Vacation, Part I

In the words of Dave Barry, "The major advantage of domestic travel is that, with a few exceptions such as Miami, most domestic locations are conveniently situated right here in the United States." For this year's vacation, we decided to visit A Great Number of domestic locations and fortunately for us, most of these locations were inside our nation's borders, saving us the trouble of obtaining passports for our younger children.

The pretense for this year's vacation was Uncle Roy. He decided to put together a wedding, giving himself one of the Major Roles, and ingeniously decided to hold the wedding at a Far Away place called Oklahoma City. Oklahoma City is very Far Away from the place we call home (and from where we live), but we decided, in a moment of irrationality, that if we added A Great Number of other domestic locations to the itinerary, we could do this.

So dark and early on the morning of Wednesday, September 30, we (yours truly, yours' wife Mary, yours' sisters Jane and Amy, and yours' children Jonathon, James, Jeff, Rachel, Joseph, and Renna) climbed into our newly refurbished 12-passenger van and, after about 45 minutes of not being able to go back to sleep, turned on the vehicle and began driving in a generally westerly direction.

We had several minor stops along the way (Dave Barry: A small child can go for weeks without going to the bathroom at home, but once you hit the road, it becomes pretty much a full-time occupation.). Our first major stop was Niagara Falls, a very water-intensive domestic location which actually contains very little, if any, cheese. I had seen Niagara Falls once before, as a youngster traveling with my family to a separate domestic location. That time, we drove past the Falls at 5:30 at the morning, and, as a result, avoided the spurious fees for entering Niagara Falls State Park, parking at the Park, exiting your vehicle at the Park, walking on the grounds at the Park, viewing the Falls at the Park, attempting to swim in the Falls at the Park, and for having a middle name containing the letter 'h'. No such luck this time around.

The weather at Niagara Falls State Park was rainy and it seemed as though the closer one got to the Falls, the rainier it became. It wasn't heavy rain, just the kind of misty drizzle that makes you realize suddenly, after about an hour, that every item of clothing you're currently wearing is completely soaked. Good times.

Our next destination was a cheap hotel on the outskirts of Columbus, OH, in a city referred to locally as Grove City. I won't disclose the name of the hotel, except that it rhymes with ChravelLodge. The manager on duty when we arrived was an individual of terrorist descent and attempted to convince us that we needed to 1) buy an additional room, 2) pay extra money, and 3) make him the primary beneficiary to my retirement plan. After regrouping in our vehicle, we called his bluff and he became much more pleasant. By pleasant, I mean that he yielded on all of his demands and, in fact, I'm now the primary beneficiary to his retirement plan. Unfortunately for me, that means pretty much just a time share in a cave, but I was pleased how things turned out.

The following day, we visited the Creation Museum in Cincinnati, OH, and by Cincinnati, OH, I mean Petersburg, KY. The Museum contained many fascinating features, including a nature walk, petting zoo (only small dinosaurs), and numerous exhibits discrediting the theory of evolution and making the case for creation. There was also a Planetarium, which included space travel and, as is so often the case when traveling across the universe with small children, several bathroom breaks.

Upon leaving the Museum, we immediately began driving in a generally south-westerly direction towards Oklahoma City. After turning around to pick up three of the children which had been forgotten, we proceeded to drive through the night. During the night, Jane and I notched two more installments in our series entitled, Watching Movies in Unusual Ways. To Watching a Movie With a Video IPod, we added Watching a Movie While Driving in the Middle of the Night and Watching a Movie Downloaded from ITunes While Driving 70-Miles Per Hour. And one of those was a twofer: we watched the entire 208-minute Fellowship of the Ring in just over 2 hours thanks to a change in an ingenious feature referred to locally as the "time-zone." Next in the series: Watching a Movie Atop Mount Monadnock in January! Ha!

We arrived at our lodging in Oklahoma City, OK just after 6 a.m. CDT, and when I say Oklahoma City, OK, I mean Norman, OK. Our hotel experience here was much more pleasant, and this particular hotel just might be the Best place in the Western parts of the country. That day (Friday, October 2), we alternatively tried to nap, ate at restaurants with large crowds which occasionally included family, and marveled at the surprisingly flat landscape.

Saturday, The Big Day, we started by going to a local state park which advertised the presence of a playground. We found it, eventually, and, as playgrounds go, it was pretty pathetic. But its location was perfect - in the middle of nowhere - so the kids and their companions were able to hollar and run off several days worth of accumulated energy. Later that day was the actual wedding, a meaningful ceremony that was pleasantly brief. Congratulations to Roy and Bekah Turner!

Sunday morning, we arose dark and early and drove in a generally southerly direction towards the Big D (and I do mean Dallas). Jane and Amy were deposited at what I hope was the proper location at the DFW airport and we drove around the airport for several hours taking in all the scenery - roads, commercial buildings, smog, etc. The DFW airport has a toll based on the number of hours one is at the airport and so, consequently, the roads inside the airport are only slightly less confusing than the Villa Pisani labyrinth. But we did make it out, because we had snuck in a GPS. Ha, ha!

We met Melissa at the Texas State Fair, a little celebration of large hogs, fried butter, and high entrance fees that she cobbled together for our benefit. The Fair included a Children's Barnyard, which the kids really enjoyed, and included such animals as cows, goats, a giraffe, a tortoise, and a small family of *&%$ yankees. After taking in the animal sights and sounds and artery-thickening smells of the fair, we visited a nearby children's museum. The kids played with such things as dinosaur bones and firemen's suits, and the adults visited. Good times, again. Also at the museum was this little contraption referred to locally as an "IMAX." It was about dinosaurs, which was good because it helped us to clarify all of those misconceptions we had picked up at the Creation Museum. It was also the first IMAX any of my kids have seen and it was, upon retrospection, remarkably intense. Jeff kept trying to "dodge" the charging dinos, and even James asked if he could hold my hand. But Rachel loved it. Strange world.

The weather in Texas was not what I expected. When I think of Texas, I think of a hot, dry climate with tumbleweeds passing by and oil gushing out at unexpected moments. But now I am amused that my memories of Texas are against the backdrop of a gray sky with drizzle and a chilly breeze in the air.

Well, now it is time for me to take the rest of the day off (still on vacation), so the balance of our travels will have to be documented at a later date.

Change and Hope

At a meeting recently, the speaker challenged those present to identify those preset, standardized responses we have to certain problems and, when the moment of reaction comes, allow the Spirit to generate an unprecedented response which, ostensibly, is more Christ-like than those aforesaid responses we seem programmed to come up with.

I had an opportunity to think about this in the cold of the moment, and this is what I learned.

I don't like change. Variety, yes; alterations to my routine, no. I've joked before that my idea of vacation would be a week wherein I worked a mere 40 hours, and nothing unusual happened. No kids got sick, no unexpected appointments...just plain old routine. I wouldn't want that every week, mind you, but once or twice a year would go a long way towards reducing my risk of a heart attack. Unfortunately for me, my wife's idea of vacation involves at least one of the following: 1) driving through at least five states, 2) voluntarily surrendering the use of most modern amenities ("camping"), or 3) spending a sum of money larger than the GDP of several African nations. Okay, enough about vacationing.

I don't like change because it introduces heretofore unquantified variables into the equation of life. As an analytical person, I receive security and comfort from understanding what is going on around me. But changes throw all that for a loop. Why does that procedure that has stood the test of time have to be done differently? Why does that teaching which worked well for others have to be revisited? Why does that friendship which had been free and beneficial have to become complicated?

In my better moments, I might even recognize that the change is good. Sometimes. If I was really in the zone, I might see the change as an opportunity to get elected President. But usually, my initial response is an anxious one.

So that's my initial response. Can't we do any better than that?

While seeing the initial response coming on recently, I remembered the first paragraph. Hmmmm. The Spirit reminded me that I am not as those who have no hope. In that anxiety-inducing moment of realizing there are factors I don't understand and can't quantify, I can receive security and comfort from knowing that everything is working together for good. Everything. Like the master conductor, everything in my experience is being coordinated for one purpose: my improvement. Change is God's vehicle for introducing something better. That's pretty cool, and I think I can live with that.

So here's to change, and here's to hope. Its all in God's hands now.