Family Vacation

When I was really little, summer vacations were never a big deal in my family. I remember summers where all my friends would leave to go on road trips to Yosemite or the Beach, and always wondered why my family was stuck at home.

The truth is, my dad is not a big fan of crowds. It’s like pulling teeth to get him to play tourist - and to travel during the busiest time of the year is an absolute no go. Instead, we’d take our summer vacations in October - every October 31st to be exact. (Nevada Day for those who are unaware, when Nevada school children get the day off for Halloween to celebrate Nevada becoming a state). Most of the time this meant a trip to Disneyland, where my mother would dress all of the kids in horrific tye dye Micky Mouse sweatshirts and tote us around the park. (I’m pretty sure our family photo is still up for the world to see in the photo shop. yikes!) On the years that we didn’t go to Disneyland, we’d join in with a few other families and rent a houseboat for a week at Lake Mead, leaving me with many memories of a half a dozen kids sleeping under the stars on the roof of the houseboat.

My family eventually caught on to the nature of summer vacations once I was in high school. That’s when we discovered the Lake of the Ozarks. Lake of the Ozarks is a 23-hour drive from Las Vegas, and of course with MY dad that meant we’d be driving. My dad’s version of cross country road trips involves only stopping when the car says so. You have exactly the amount of time it takes to fill up the gas tank on my dad’s F250 to grab food, use the facilities, and do as many jumping jacks as possible before it’s time to hit the road for another 300 miles. As soon as I had my first job I began saving for plane tickets to the Ozarks, and I haven’t looked back since.

By the time we reached the Ozarks my family was ready for a week straight of vacation. It was the perfect vacation - our lake house tucked away at the shore - a 20 minute drive to the closest convenience store, an hours drive from the closest Walmart. It was the perfect vacation - a REAL vacation - with no plans, nothing to see, nothing to do. We went skiing, suntanned, grabbed lunch on the lake - and once we were old enough a couple of beers too. It is the idealistic vacation, and one that I relied on to refresh and replenish my soul.

As I type this, my family is currently enduring the endless road trip back to Nevada. The Baby is begging to watch another episode of Hannah Montana on the laptop, and The Teenager is complaining that she can’t get cell signal in no-wheres-ville. My mom is suggesting they stop at the cute little antique store on the side of the road, and my Dad is staring at the road sending mean thoughts to my brother for flying home early. My brother is already back early in Vegas - thinking up the best excuse to explain why he stole the Land Sharks that were being brought back for me.

Meanwhile, I’m sitting in my office, staring at a picture of the lake house on my computer screen, and pretending the sound of my air filter is really water lapping up on the lake shore.

No, my family didn’t disown me when I decided to move to LA. I was still welcome to come on our family vacation, and spent months studying the ticket prices on Allegiant hoping to grab a stellar sale. However, responsibility soon weaseled it’s way in. My vacation days were few, and as the trip came closer I was holding out for a very important phone call that I just couldn’t miss.

The time came for my family to leave, and I stayed in LA. Work was slow - I had nothing to do. and the phone call never came. Suddenly staying in LA sounded like the worst idea ever.

I wanted to call my Mom to pout and complain, thinking maybe I could trick her into suggesting that she’d pay for my plane ticket. I wanted to call my Dad and remind him that 22 is still REALLY young to be living completely independent in one of the biggest cities on earth, and doesn’t he want to see his little girl again? I wanted to throw a hissy fit, to have Mom and Dad rescue me from the boredom and frustration that is living an adult life - let me escape to the Ozarks where there is no such things as worries.

Instead a grew up, threw on my business flats, and went to work. Being an adult isn’t always so fun.