Going to the Cape...

We'll be leaving shortly to take our annual pilgrimage to Cape Cod for a week's worth of R&R. This is "my" vacation - Mrs. G. likes vacations like Disney, where every second of the day is filled with something to do, someplace to be, some force driving you onward. Every moment is planned; every day has some central activity in which to participate; every meal is thought out in advance (whether making reservations or gathering supplies). My vacations are more the type where you forget what day it is, mainly because you left your watch at home and have done nothing but lounge on the beach drinking frosty malt beverages all day long...

We did Disney over the kids' April vacation. This week we're going to the Cape...

I've been going to the same campground on Cape Cod (technically, the campground - state preservation, to be precise - is on the mainland side of the canal) since I was about 5 or 6. My folks had a little (19') Class C camper (the ones with the van-front), and every year we'd spend 2-4 weeks on the Cape during the summer. Mom loved it because she could walk to the beach every day. Dad loved it because he could fish off the canal every day. My sister and I loved it because we were allowed to ride our bikes pretty much everywhere in the campground - and because there's an 8 mile long access road that runs right past McDonald's *and* Friendly's, we could - at the tender age of 10 - go get greasy burgers or ice cream all by ourselves.

One of the neat things about the campground is how little it has changed in the 30+ years I've been going there. Aside from a facelift to the Visitor's center, it's more or less unchanged from the 1970s (or longer; I've only been going there since the Carter administration). Six men have sat in the Oval Office in the time I've gone to the campground; we're lost two space shuttles and the twin towers in NYC as well. I've gone from a child to a man with children of my own; I've been bringing my son to the same campground since he was a baby. It's the camping equivalent of "comfort food", a single unwavering constant in a swirling sea of change.

So we're off, once again, to drive down to the Cape, braving crazy traffic and all to make our way to our campsite. It's supposed to be on the wet side Monday (is there any other kind of weather to set up a campsite in?), but the remainder of the week looks passable. The kids are all kinds of excited - they can't wait to fly kites, build sandcastles on the beach, and fish off the pier. I can't wait for some quality family time that doesn't involve rushing off to one appointment/commitment after another - or giant singing rodents...

I've got a handful of posts prepped to go each day, and should be popping in on rare occasion (the local convenience store has both beer and free wifi - what a country!). Don't let the country go to hell while I'm gone (at least, not any more so than Øbama and his merry band of socialists have tried thus far); be sure to check out the fine folks over on the right in the blogroll; and be sure to punch at least one hippie a day.

I'll be back with HATERAGE and gun pr0n before you know it.

That is all.