My Adult Vacation

My offering

First of all, there was nothing inappropriate by my vacation.  I use the descriptor "adult" to signify that it was my first vacation as an adult. 

I paid for the plane tickets, I organized the dates, I got myself to the airport, I didn't take my trombone to perform somewhere, and I didn't rely on anyone but the friends I was visiting.

It was a good time.

I went to Florida.  Specifically, a suburb of Orlando.  I sang a bit for my supper -- the husband of the couple I went to visit teaches high school, so I worked with some students and played with their jazz band for a period.

I also planned ahead and bought a t-shirt and a college logo resin pumpkin as offerings to the great Saturday college game-day.  I became an honorary fan of their alma mater; my four hour loyalty would ensure my friendly reception.

And what a reception.

I was treated with as much luxury as I could have hoped for, and far more than I expected.  Fantastic meals cooked as the three of us laughed and listened.  Such conversation!  You would think that they were the ones who lived as a lonely bachelor!  I certainly tried to soak up as much of it as I could.

As with all good times, it ended far too soon.  I returned home to a dwelling not echoing with laughter and good cheer.  Just the same pile of dirty clothes as when I left, the same plant quietly growing in the corner.  I despaired over the abscence, having grown fond of the company in 96 hours or so. 

Now I'm back to the standard routine of not needing to say a word unless I'm reading along with a movie I've seen fifty times.  My first word of the day is usually after 9am, when I great someone at work.  And often my voice doesn't work right away -- it miscarries and grumbles and fleeps as I press my vocal chords into reluctant service. 

It's a detoxing shame that central Florida should be quite that far away.

Time to start planning adult vacation two!