The “educational” tag is SO over rated.
Especially when it comes to summer vacations. My parents (a self-employed
business man and an elementary school teacher) made it their mission to make
sure we learned something over the summer break. So while my friends were
water skiing on Lake Michigan or riding donkeys down to bottom of the Grand
Canyon or hanging out with Mickey & Minnie, my family was marching through
the Smithsonian in DC or traipsing along the Freedom Trail in Boston or
sitting/snoozing through historical lectures in the City of Brotherly
Love.
Did I have VA-CAY Envy? You bet I did!
But here’s a little secret I never
told anyone…there was one “educational” vacation I enjoyed very much--the one
to Williamsburg, Virginia in 1972. The beauty of the “living museum” in
Colonial Williamsburg allows visitors to experience what life in the 1600s
America was like by doing some of the tasks required for existence 400 years
ago. For
example, my sister and I carded wool then spun it into yarn,
used a printing press to make our own little newspaper, watched blacksmiths
pound iron into hooks, and enjoyed horse-drawn carriage rides along the cobble
stone streets. (There’s something SO soothing about the sound of hooves
clacking against the stone in measured cadence. Be still my heart.) Oh yeah,
and we got put in "jail." (In Colonial times, people would
throw garbage--and worse--at people sentenced to time in the stocks. Fortunately
this was not part of my experience!)
That's Little Jayne on the right... |
My one complaint? The heat! Southern
summers are not for the faint of heart! And those poor women who had to
wear those heavy hoop-skirts and caps! How did they do that? I was
practically melting myself, and I had on a sleeveless shirt, shorts and (as any
well-dressed kid in the 70s had…) white Keds.
What I needed was a dip in the ocean. I’d seen
the signs for Virginia Beach. Beach meant ocean. Ah, cool,
refreshing water.
I asked. I begged. I got down on one knee
and pleaded, “Please, please PLEASE! Let’s go to the beach and cool
off! Please! Please! Please!”
“It’s four hours away,” my parents said. “That would
make for a much longer drive home, too. It would take two days then Dad would
have to take another day off work.”
I accepted that, as young children of the 70s did, not
because I respected my elders but because I didn’t have the World Wide Web at
my finger tips to prove otherwise.
Fast forward twenty years when my military husband and
I made the move from San Diego, CA to Norfolk, VA via Ohio. That equated
to nine days on the road, driving and eating fast food, with a three day
layover in Ohio to visit family. On our way south to Virginia we stopped
at the Williamsburg exit to fill up on gas. My parent’s voices echoed in
my head, “Four hours away.” At that point I honestly didn’t have four
more hours of travel in me. I suggested to my husband we find a hotel for
the night.
“Why?” he asked. “We’re only an hour away.”
<<insert sound of screeching record
here…>>
“An hour?” I asked.
“Yup,” he said.
Needless to say, my first phone call to my parents
once we got settled in our new home (this was in the days before cell phones,
or trust me, the call would have been made there and then!) “Hey Mom and
Dad, did you know that Virginia Beach is less than an hour’s drive from
colonial Williamsburg?”
Silence.
They’d known.
And then it occurred to me, Virginia Beach may have
been fun and refreshing, but it did not push the “educational” button.
After living here on and off for the past 30 years and
spending hours bike riding on the boardwalk or picnicking on the beach, licking
an ice cream cone while watching tourists frolic at the water’s edge, I’ve
learned that there’s something about being near that water is good for what’
ails ya. The light is different, the sound of the crashing waves is
relaxing, the smell of the salt water is refreshing. It restores one’s
soul. I feel better after a day at the beach. Probably not smarter,
but then as I’ve said before, that “educational” tag is rather overrated.
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