Now that another summer is upon us, I offer observations and advice for those Type B personalities preparing for another “vacation” with their Type A spouses. 

Many of us have one.  That Type A spouse upon whom we rely for all the high-intensity, detail-filled tasks that are essential to family health and harmony.  The Type A in the family is the go-getter, the organizer, the protagonist for family involvement, the anti-couch potato … all good things … most times.

Unfortunately, some Type As tend to transform into General Patton when it comes to the family vacation.  They plan and execute summer get-aways like the D-Day invasion of Fortress Europe.  There are Objectives, Operational Plans, and Time Tables.  The pace of operations can be intense and unforgiving.  And if you tire, get “wounded”, or fall off the pace, you’re likely to be left by the side of the road like a piece of carrion for the buzzards.  

OK … Just a bit of hyperbole there.  And maybe there’s nothing amiss with some high-intensity activity on a vacation.  Many people seem not to mind. 

But, if YOU are the family couch potato – like me - and come ill-prepared for the duration and intensity of this Theatre of Operations, a much-anticipated vacation could end up as your own personal version of The Donner Party.  So with my years of experience at being driven by my more energetic, motivated, hyper-vacationated spousal unit, allow me to offer some timely advice.  

Keep in mind that each trial, hurdle, ache, and injury will be multiplied by the number of children you will carrying on your back or pushing in a stroller!

Get in touch with Type A reality:  Some people – or so I’m told - go on vacations to unwind, to regroup, to blow off steam, to reflect and to recharge the batteries.  In other words … To RELAX!  But as any Type A Vacation Survivor will tell you, you cannot spell R-E-L-A-X from V-A-C-A-T-I-O-N!  And that all you will get from your Type A protagonist is the “A” … and that “A” stands for Apathy!  Once rid of your Type B Vacation misapprehensions, you will understand and – more importantly - SURVIVE what is in store for you.  

Cardiovascular health:  Make sure you are physically fit and ready for a grind.  Type A Vacations can include hand-to-hand combat, tests of agility, decision-making under extreme stress, and plenty of windsprints; and that’s just getting to breakfast!  

So lose the excess weight.  Hit the elliptical trainer and the Stairmaster.  Work on BOTH speed and endurance.  You’re going to need it!

I learned - a bit too late to save my naive impressions of what “vacations” are - that the two of us were raised in families that lived at Polar Extremes of the Vacation Continuum.  My family - when we went on vacations - tended to gravitate towards the South Jersey shore points, where Leisure is spelled with a capital “L”.  The most “stress” usually involved deciding where to eat; the too long/too late obligatory excursions on the boardwalk; and the occasional case of sunburn.

Not so my better-half’s family vacation experiences.  Whereas my family’s vacations seemed geared towards resting and refreshing hard-working adults, her family’s vacations were about The Experience … Getting as much as one can from the trip … Trying not to miss a single offering or opportunity presented by whatever venue they visited … Hit the ground running and don’t stop until the money is exhausted or the hotel insists that your stay has ended!

She’ll claim it is not so; but I have the scars to prove otherwise!

Strength training:  You’ll want to bulk up normally for any vacation … all that baggage rustling, equipment stowage and deployment can test your back, arms and legs. 

Pre-hotel-check-in on Day One, Disneyworld 2004

Many Type A’s look upon hotel check-in as an unnecessary hindrance to getting all the “fun” started.  If given their way, they would forego completely any initial hotel interaction until very late the first night of a trip.  They would prefer to jump, tuck ‘n roll from the still-moving car and commence immediately with the festivities.  This is why so many Type A’s will wear their bathing suits on the way to the shore.  

However this becomes a real problem when visiting high-activity, high-intensity vacation sites like Disney World.  Dragging all those unchecked suitcases through The Magic Kingdom on Day One for hours before your Type A decides to “waste time” checking-in can be exhausting.  So make sure you pay extra attention to strengthening your large muscle groups of the legs and back!

It’s hard not to reflect on our earlier vacations when the boys were but wee lads.  The amount of equipment … strollers, porta-cribs, high chairs, toys … we had to drag along with us was mind-boggling. 

I can remember staring at the back of our Dodge Grand Caravan thinking, “I’ll never get all this crap in or onto the roof.” 

Of course just about then, General Patton would stick her head out the door and ask me why I was “relaxing”!!             

Get your rest before you go:  Yeah, I know … Get my rest BEFORE vacation?!?  Trust me!  As stated above, you cannot spell R-E-L-A-X …  Anyway, simply be prepared to GO GO GO from dawn to midnight!  You will get to “relax” when you sleep and if you’re lucky should you stop at a food source where you will be allowed – begrudgingly - to sit down and eat. 

Know your rights!  This is the toughest part of being a Type B soul trapped in a Type A vacation. 

It’s been four days of hard-driving, high intensity, calf-burning activity.  You look longingly at the hotel pool, the water of which you fear will never get the chance to wash over your cramping, stressed-out body.  You heard rumor that the tiki bar has been hopping the last two nights while you were pushing four-year-old Gertrude and six-year-old Jeffrey in a double dolphin stroller through 25 miles of SeaWorld until midnight.  You just want a few hours doing nothing more than reading a book, floating in the pool, or downing a few mai tais.  But you know that the Operations Plan does not allow for idle time.  Failure to adhere to The Schedule will throw the entire expedition into chaos and anarchy. 

What’s a Type B to do?!?

STRIKE!

That’s right, exercise your God-given right to refuse to do anything more than sit around and contemplate your navel!  Why should teachers and Teamsters have all the fun?!?  Where’s the compassion?  Where’s the solidarity??  Where are the damn mai tais?!?

Now that being said, General Patton will be a bit more than slightly miffed at your insubordination and temerity.  They will huff and puff; threaten and cajole; plead in the name of the Operations Schedule.  DO NOT LISTEN!  The sole purpose is to wring another day’s worth of blood from a turnip.  And oddly enough, turnips is probably what your knotted, cramped legs will look like at this point of your Type A Vacation! 

First off … NO TEARS!!  Crying is a sign of weakness to the Type A Patton.  They will roll over you like Hitler took the French!  If the Type A pressure persists, simply put on your Alec Guinness stiff upper lip; whistle the tune from The Bridge on the River Kwai; and stand your ground!   

Simply state in your firmest, most reasonable voice that you will be taking a day off, and that you would be willing to watch the kids at the pool so that General Patton can dangle a foot off the dock for a few hours as well.  This strategy has worked for me in the past.  General Patton by this point accepts our labor standoffs with rolled eyes and an exasperated huff.  And one year she actually chose to forego the pool day and went solo into The Magic Kingdom just to reconnoiter the next day’s Mission. 

But for the typical Type A Vacation Generalissimos, The Next Mission is what vacation is all about!

I’m a bit of a practical jokester when the opportunity presents itself; like the time I bungy-corded the kids’ bedrooms door shut very early one Christmas morning.  To my knowledge no property damage was ever done, no fatalities or major injuries suffered.  But I’m sure I have annoyed a few people along the way, not that they necessarily ever connected me to their state of annoyance.

A case in point …

Nick is a really nice guy, but was known at the time to be a bit full of himself.  He was a fellow team leader in a large federal procurement office that will remain nameless.  He also had a habit – for some reason – of taking his shoes off in the afternoon as he sat at his desk.  No cubicles back then, which is important to the story.

Anywho … I had the mischievous and compulsive thought one day to grab one of his shoes as I walked past his desk and he was distracted on the phone.  That only one person, Pete Z, saw me do it in an office crowded with desks lined almost end-to-end was amazing.  He smiled but never said anything.

My misdemeanor theft went unnoticed for twenty minutes as we sat waiting for something to happen.  So I decided – in a flash of non-brilliance it would turn out – to turn up the heat a bit.

I looked up the name of the Commanding General’s Aide-de-Camp, then called the secretary of the Division Director imitating said Lieutenant stating that Mr. Nick L would be receiving a commendation personally from General WhoseIts for Something or Other in approximately 15 minutes.

There was of course an immediate flurry of activity as the secretary called about the various offices looking for said Division Director who was elsewhere in the building.  In the meantime, said secretary went over to Nick L to relay to him the good news of his impending commendation; at which point Nick quickly reached down to replace his shoes upon his feet.

Ruh roh …

At that very moment as Pete and I stifled our schoolyard giggles, the Division Director came marching urgently back to the office to don his suitcoat and prepare for the visit by The General.  I started to get an uneasy feeling in my stomach.  In the meantime, said secretary and Nick had started frantically searching the area around Nick’s desk trying to find his other shoe.  The image of Nick standing there either in his socks or with one shoe on and one shoe off was causing me and Pete fits of muffled laughter.

Nick had figured by now that his missing shoe was no accident.  But he hadn’t put missing shoe plus out-of-the-blue General visit together.  He was way too busy scurrying from one suspect’s desk to another trying to discover the shoe bandit before he ended up standing next to an Air Force General who would be wondering why this idiot was standing next to him with one-or-none shoes on!

For some reason, I was not high on the suspect list.  But Pete was.  And as the search intensified – now with the Division Director involved and a bit incredulous over this turn of affairs – I glanced over to see Pete head down as if working studiously on a compelling procurement dilemma, glancing sideways at me with this deer-in-the-headlights look on his face.  It was obvious that he was uncertain that he would be able to keep a straight face when they got to his desk and shined the glaring Light of Suspicion upon him!

Ruh roh …

That’s when I bolted from my desk in a controlled panic, deftly hiding the purloined shoe behind a file folder (i.e. what we used before computer files) as I quickly – but as inconspicuously as possible – retreated in the opposite direction from the Shoe Hounds.  Pete looked like he was going to throw up; but I had to figure out how to end this before someone – namely me – got hurt.

So circling around the office to get behind the line of the suspect sweep, I grabbed an interoffice envelope (i.e. what we used before the creation of e-mail) and stuffed the missing footwear inside and tied down the flap with the red stringy thing.  Then I calmly and stealthily snuck into the Division Director’s office – which was just a big cubicle – and placed the shoe-stuffed envelope on his desk.

As I strolled back to my desk through the phalanx of InterOfficePolice, I buried my head in the file folder as if I was working on a compelling procurement dilemma.  The Office Gumshoes were just a few desks away from the profusely sweating Pete Z when I placed a call to the secretary’s phone, telling her in my best disguised guilty-as-hell voice, “The shoe is on Mr. Director’s desk.”

After fifteen minutes of standing around waiting for a General that wasn’t about to appear, Mr. Division Director leaned over to an exasperated Nick and said, “I think someone was playing us.”

They say the Most Successful Prank or Swindle is the one where The Victim(s) never connect the perpetrator with the crime.  If that’s the case, then this was indeed my Greatest Caper!  But I’m convinced I haven’t tried it again simply because it went to the brink a lot faster than I would have anticipated had I bothered to think before I had swiped that shoe.

I guess there’s a lesson in there somewhere.