Henrietta Hay's Column

"Have you been doing anything exciting this summer?" "Have you had a big trip?" "Are you going to have a big trip?"

Well, no to all of the above! People keep asking me these questions, and I keep saying, "Nothing much," and "No place," while I try to think up some impressive, glamorous answer. Anyway, excitement is a relative term. True, I haven't done anything as exciting as sky diving or rafting down the Grand Canyon, but I can find a fair amount of it right here in Grand Junction. Look at the KPRN hassle.

As a reluctant traveler I haven't gone anyplace except to Collbran. There, however, the town dedicated the only memorial in the United States honoring women in the military service, so that counts as a major trip. On the other hand, just for the record, I'm having a great summer. My house is cool, my computer works, I'm sleeping in my own bed, although nobody puts a mint on the pillow, and when I eat out, I know what to expect.

What's so great about vacations? Irma Bombeck recently compared them to joining the Peace Corps and I think she is the one who used the phrase, after one particularly bad one, "vacation from Hell."

Usually it means traveling as far as possible with as many people as possible to see as many things as possible, with everyone wanting to do something different. It also includes spending more money than you intended, and a lengthy recovery period. I realize that there are people who really love to uproot their daily lives, to endure all sorts of inconvenience, and occasional pain, all so they can go back to work and tell everybody what a wonderful vacation they had. Sometimes they even mean it. These are the people who have created the Tourism industry and the Gift Shop industry. I was once one of them and I've had my share of vacations, good and bad.

I went to Disneyland once with one of my kids. We had splurged and made reservations at the Disneyland Hotel so he would not miss a single moment of the great adventure. But on the way we had a fender-bender on a Los Angeles freeway and were probably the only people in history to arrive at the Disneyland Hotel behind a tow truck with our front wheels up in the air. Said kid was out of the car and on his way before I could open my door, and I hardly saw him for two days.

Then there was the vacation my parents and I took when I was in High School, the one that introduced me to western Colorado. On that memorable holiday we spent an entire night on top of the Grand Mesa in a tent, which leaked while the rain came down in sheets and our faithful old Hudson sat knee-deep in the mud in the middle of the road. All we had for dinner was bread, because there was no dry wood for a fire.

I have a friend who takes her grandchildren, two at a time, to Washington D. C. for a week when they are about eleven. Granted, that is between the terrible twos and teendom, but even so I think she deserves the Medal of Honor. She did report that on the last trip there was more interest in the Hard Rock Cafe than in the White House, but both she and the kids claim to have had a wonderful time.

I have another friend who looks on a vacation as a challenge, not unlike Mt. Everest. She is so afraid she will miss something when she takes a trip that she is in overdrive from dawn to dusk and beyond. Of course nobody can keep up with her and she returns home to rest, but she has seen the challenge and she has met it.

Americans are not the only intense vacationers. The Japanese are inveterate travelers but they too do some funny things. Several years ago I watched a group of Japanese tourists at the Grand Canyon. They were all shooting with Fuji and Yashika cameras, but they were driving rented Volvos.

So good luck to all you adventurous vacationers. Send me a post card. I think I'll take the money I would have spent and go look at new computers or some other interesting adult toy. "What have I been doing this summer?" "Nothing much."