Vacation season

BY TOM KEARNEY
This is the best of times; this is the worst of times.

It’s vacation season.

People come, people go; people are a little preoccupied at work because they’re thinking about sipping a pina colada on the beach.

Everybody does everyone else’s job while they’re gone, only not as well; a former reporter winds up baby-sitting the computer servers; novices shoot news photos and we all hope for the best.

At a small operation like ours, where every job is vital, vacations have to be finessed. Optimally, people would work all the time. But in reality, without vacations, the people on our staff would burn out like dollar-store candles.

With them, those folks come back energized, full of energy and ideas — which they pitch to the poor souls who’ve been filling in and are worn out and dreaming of their own vacation time.

As for my own time off, I separate things into vacations and family trips.

Vacations are when you kick back, relax, sip tall, cool drinks, maybe smoke a cigar, and dip your toes into cool water while you read a trashy novel.

Family trips are when you’re loaded up like a pack horse, carrying a backpack jammed with sunscreen, water, raincoats, hats, insect repellent, bug-bite antidote, and whatever else fits in there.

You lug this burden behind cavorting children at, say, an amusement park where all the rides give you vertigo, or retail stores where the beaded shirts and distressed minskirts have no place in your closet, or on a beach road where your load expands to include a blanket, towels and beach chairs.

Don’t get me wrong; I love family trips. Family trips bring anticipation during the drive, knowing you’ll wind up someplace exciting. Family trips mean great conversations, songs and laughter. Family trips bring the satisfaction that you’re showing the youngsters things they’d never experience otherwise.

Family trips are the best.

Just don’t call them vacations.