Vacation Time Flies

Our pastor raised an interesting question in his sermon on Sunday, asking how many of us wished there were more hours in the day, or can't believe how fast the year has gone. If we're asking ”Christmas again already?”, his feeling was that we've allowed our spirituality to be buried beneath the routine of everyday life, that sometimes we get so caught up in the things we have to do, we never stop to think about our faith. I'd go even further to say that advertising plays a part in rushed holidays, as various items are promoted as much as three months in advance, and as soon as one holiday is over, the next day they're looking three months ahead once more.

It's hard to believe just one week ago I was pondering how to spend my Thanksgiving vacation. That's always the biggest pause for me, the time I stop and think while lying around doing nothing, for the most part. Most years, that kind of break in my routine is great at first but finds me excruciatingly bored by the second or third day. This year, I was bored by the end of the first day. I'd watched some of the movies and television shows I'd wanted to catch up on, but definitely couldn't see myself spending six days doing the same.

Fortunately, I got a voicemail from a friend who was heading in to the city with another friend after a somewhat uneventful happy hour on Long Island. I met up with them for a fun time that included drunk dialing a bewildered Rey with an incredibly random geek question, the last thing he expected to hear at 11 o'clock at night while on vacation. The next day, I spent Thanksgiving at my uncle's, and later had a more sober conversation with my friend.

Friday was another day of DVDs, followed by a trip to a local tavern to meet up with some old friends I recently reconnected with online. I grew up with these guys in my neighborhood, I'm about five or six years older, and I was the shortest one there. One was a basketball player in high school and had gotten taller a long time ago, but the other was definitely shorter than me the last time I saw him. The taller of the two is now engaged, while the other one is currently studying to be a doctor. It was strange to see them as adults, but see echoes of the kids they used to be in their faces. After a while the bar got too crowded and, being local, the crowd got too young. I felt like I was in a room full of high school kids, though they were probably in their 20s. Apparently, a lot of them were arriving after some kind of college game, possibly hockey based on some of the things I overheard.

On Saturday afternoon, I headed out to a holiday parade with one of my Italian bands. My dad had declined the job, anticipating bitter cold, but our old friend Bill the trumpet player ventured out. For some reason, after giving directions over the phone earlier to some other trumpet players who did just fine with my advice, I doubted myself and got off the highway several exits early, fearing that I'd driven too far. After going the wrong way for a few miles, I doubled back, and Bill and I got there about 10 minutes before the parade was scheduled to begin. A panicked call from the band leader's son that they were starting had me walking fast, but I had to keep waiting for Bill, who has only one eye and doesn't walk as fast. And of course, when we found the band, it was at least another half hour before it was our turn to start playing.

On Sunday, icy rain squashed any plans I had to go on a photo shoot with some of my friends, so most of the day after taking my mom to church was spent watching even more DVDs. On Monday, my last day off, I met some friends from my old job for lunch, delayed by the insane traffic of holiday shoppers. Not only is going to a mall a bad idea this time of year, but a several mile radius around malls should be avoided as well. On my way back, giant clouds rolled over the blue sky, destroying the ideal lighting conditions I had to do some photography, but I still managed to get some of the local decorations popping up around town.

I can't believe that my six days are up, that soon it will be Tuesday morning and I'll be back in my office, in front of my computer, engaged in my routine once more. I know the minute I sit in that chair, the weekend will vanish, and I'll have the sense that I never left, or that I was only away for a few minutes. Yet, I managed to do something interesting every day. I spent quality time with friends and family, and I got some photos done. I organized my e-mail inbox, which was overflowing from neglect. I took care of laundry and other errands. I've been listening to Chinese Democracy, and ultimately find it disappointing as an album, although I do really like 3 or 4 tracks. I didn't make it out to see Transporter 3, but I suspect I can wait for the DVD. I got through three Netflix and three B13flix, and I finished watching Arrested Development while getting through all but 3 episodes of the first season of True Blood. The only reading I got done was television listings and some back issues of What the--?!, and I didn't make it to any libraries or book stores. Still, I made a satisfying dent in the massive to-do list I put together last week, and never expected to do everything on it.

We can't slow down time, but we can plan the most efficient ways of filling it with both the things we need to do, and the things we want to do.