The Fun is in the Planning

There is a special challenge to going on a vacation in these days of perpetual pandemics, monkeypox, polio outbreaks, climate migration, floods, melting ice caps, forest and brush fires everywhere- even Hawaii, earthquakes, European rivers drying up, raging inflation, attacks against the FBI, Russian invasions, the  rise of autocratic rulers everywhere and the complete collapse of the Red Sox. President for Life- Un’s threat to unleash the fires of Satan upon us from North Korea doesn’t even phase us anymore.  Get in line buddy. 

Now, more than ever, we need at least the fantasy of a vacation to sustain us through the barrage of bad news that hammers us into submission on a daily basis. On reflection, I think the major benefit of a vacation is in the preparation for the vacation, not the actual vacation. Vacation planning requires no actual expenditures in cash, time or effort. And we can live in the fantasy that everything will go well.

Click, the computer is on and our vacation begins. I’m thinking of something tropical. Maybe you’d like the major cities of the world- but I’m going to the beach. The first image in the online Super Superior Celebrity brochure has us- myself and the missus- sitting on our cruise ship private balcony sipping whiskey sours while jungle peaks and a white sand horseshoe shaped beach beckons us. We give a toast to us as we slide closer and closer to the port with anticipation of soon being in Paradise. 

The bartender in our online vacation brochure smiles serving us fruit laden drinks on a silver tray while standing in waist deep water next to our floating lounge chairs. The pool is empty so we have the undivided attention of staff. My delighted spouse rests her head on my shoulder sighing when I click on the shrimp cocktails being delivered to us at a seaside restaurant at our first port of call. We bask in the setting sun, light breezes and swaying palm trees breathing life back into our beaten souls. 

The food on board, however, is to die for, literally. The buffett stretches for a couple of blocks. Again, in our online brochure world though, there are no lines and just smiling staff piling our plates high. Several passengers probably succumb to the excess offered around the clock and face burial at sea- with a smiling face at least. An Elvis pretender probably will send him off with a sweet rendition of  “Love Me Tender”.

After dinner, young college students are ready to skate, sing, play piano and juggle for our entertainment. Although the ship’s entertainment is endless you’ll find the excursions to be incredible too. 

Click. On to the next page. Join me now for a helicopter flight over volcanic mountain ridges with a halo of puffy white clouds properly overhead. Click. Smiling natives offer fresh cut mangoes at a roadside stand- probably for free since I hear that the natives only live to serve friendly tourists. Click. Wow, a sunset sailing cruise. It looks perfect. Dolphins leap out to greet us. They are so happy to see us. 

Here’s one excursion you might like. Captain Frederick is taking us on a morning sail to a snorkeling site. He looks like he’s been working out for ten years for just this moment.  His Jani-like, romance-cover-physique looks pretty good with only his cute sailor’s cap, long blond hair, his six  pack abs and skimpy swimsuit.  I glance over at my wife who appears to be having some kind of seizure. I quickly click to another online cruise page.

The missus slowly recovers consciousness as we fantasize what we will order in our first class cabin back on board. I see in our online brochure that our lovely concierge with a beautifully tailored suit, long flowing blond hair and low cut blouse- is happily bending over to point out the delicious room service options while gazing into my eyes …. I lost a bit of time, it appears, as my wife gives me an elbow shot into the ribs. I assured her I was only thinking about our appetizer order.

I think it would be a good idea to check the weather at our landing site just to help us with planning. The Weather Channel promises mid 80’s and permanent sunshine. We may not need a suitcase. Just pull a pair of pants over the swim suit. That’s ridiculous of course. She reminds me of the vast quantities of clothing we will need for any occasion. If we are invited to a state dinner representing our country, we should be prepared with at least two gowns, couture blouses and plenty of jewelry- and of course two suits for me with proper ties, socks and shoes.  We will also need numerous pool wraps and light sweaters for evening walks about the decks.. A dozen pairs of her shoes and four sets of her flip flops will fill up one suitcase alone. There apparently is an unwritten rule that you can’t wear the same thing for more than four hours- or so I’m told. Still, virtual packing is a breeze compared with the real thing.

There’s not a hurricane in sight for weeks. Is it possible to be bored with too much sunshine? We lapse into a philosophical discussion about habituation to pleasure, diminishing pleasure’s value over time. She resists and insists, as proof, that there’s never enough vanilla filling in the oreos. What’s this? Up pops an ad for Viagra. I’ll make room in the suitcase. What, there’s more? I see there are opportunities to buy trip insurance. No negatives are allowed in this fantasy vacation. 

Well, that was an amazing vacation. We didn’t have to deal with flight cancellations or three hour delays, drought fueled forest fires, tidal wave alerts, closed ports, covid restrictions, hazmat suits, food poisoning, or lost passports. I only have to contend with endless junk mail advertising trips all over the world generated by my computer search. Oh well. I’ll file them carefully for our next journey. 

I think I will plan our next trip for Election Day. Bon voyage!