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Let’s play.

35 Comments

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Don’t argue. It’s required…

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My parents were not vacation people and we never once loaded up the ‘62 Ford Falcon station wagon to hit the open road when I was a child.

Oh, there were wonderful day trips to the Jersey shore to swim and stroll the boardwalks… and overnighters in NYC so I could get my fill of dinosaurs at the Museum of Natural History or stuff my face full of cotton candy at Madison Square Garden when Ringling Brothers was in town…. but a true road or airline trip vacation?

Nope. Never.

I can’t honestly say I felt deprived, when you grow up in the New York/New Jersey metropolitan area there’s always plenty to see and do. And while we might have spent a few days in Connecticut or upstate NY with my parent’s friends on occasion, I wouldn’t really call that a ‘vacation’.

So as weird as it sounds, my first “real” vacation happened right after I got married at the ripe old age of 20. The husband and I were living in North Carolina where he was stationed when we jumped in his shiny black 280ZX with T Top removable roof panels … the ultimate in cool in 1984… and headed for Washington DC. I’d never been so we did all the typical tourist stuff – the Lincoln Memorial, the Vietnam Memorial, The National Zoo, the Jefferson Memorial and of course there was the prerequisite sexy photo in front of the reflecting pool at the Washington Monument.

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Complete with stone washed denim and chunky silver link dangling belt. Oh to be that thin again. Sigh…

Done with the nations capitol, we headed to Newport Rhode Island where the husband had been stationed at the Naval War College years before.

Here’s a pic of his handsome self receiving a commendation for saving a young man’s life.

❤️

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I honestly don’t remember much about what we did in Newport other than visit the Breakers… that oh so cute and cozy cottage where the Vanderbilts used to summer.

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Those were the pre cell phone and selfie days where you had to rely on your husband to take a good picture and then wait a week to see if it turned out.

So that was my first real vacay.

How about you?

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35 thoughts on “Let’s play.”

  1. We lived in Florida and my father, being in the service, would get four weeks vacation a year. He’d load us into the station wagon and we’d stop where it looked interesting. At night, motels and, if there was a drive-in theater in the area, a movie. My favorite park was the now defunct Six Gun Territory…

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  2. We went on a road trip from Ohio to Pittsfield, Massachusetts, where my aunt and uncle lived. It was my mother, a girlfriend of hers, and little me. I remember playing in a yard, sitting in a highchair, and having a book read to me. I was around 2 y.o. so not much in the way of specifics have stuck with me.

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  3. When I was nine, my parents took us to San Bernardino California to visit my moms family. That was when I found out I was born in California and not Texas. I was kind of bummed but I was only nine what did I know? Then my maternal uncle took us to Disneyland and the next day to Sea World in San Diego. My uncle Manuel was our tour guide and he made is as fun as it can get for a nine year old. Then the day after those two excursions we took a fishing trip to Perris lake near Riverside California, he also bought my my very fist Barbie that summer. I met my cousin Lorraine for the very first time and we were inseparable. It was the first and only vacation I went on with my parents.

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  5. I was eleven. My dad was stationed at the Holy Loch submarine base in Scotland. We went to a little town called Rothesay, on the island of Bute. It was very quaint, a resort town without all the sunshine. We stayed in a bed and breakfast, very much in the traditional style, which means no private bath. I did get my own room, a bit larger than a closet, but no sisters to bother me. There was a copy of 20,000 leagues under the sea that I could sit up and read as late as I wanted and the bed was so soft, well, it was real soft. The great part was that we took a week off right in the middle of school, ya ha haaaa, that and the magnificent Scottish breakfast. I’d really like to go back.

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  7. Nice pics of your husband. First vacation was to Barnegat Bay, New Jersey where we chased down a couple of lobsters let loose in the kitchen for dinner. I was 11 and my mom and I went on the trip with her best friend and her daughters. It was an all girls trip.

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  8. Every weekend or so we camped in our Motorhomes to Silent Valley in the California Mountains. Technically, it was considered a Vacation, then.
    But my first real Vacation was the first time I took a plane trip alone and visited Las Vegas! Obviously, I was hooked.

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  9. 1968. We lived in Delaware. My Dad had just gotten divorced (and got full custody), then retired after 26 years as an Air Force Pilot. He piled the clan (5 kids and a new soon-to-be-wife) into his New Chrysler Station Wagon, and headed cross country to see his parents in California. We went mostly on Rt 66, so we got to see all the exhibits it had to offer. Three that stuck with me was Frontier Town, a restaurant in Nebraska called “Dreisbachs”. and the Rose Motel in Wyoming. Strange the things we can recall 50 years later.

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  10. First, I commend your husband’s bravery and thank him for his service.
    Second, let’s talk travel! My first vacation was to Jamaica when I was 3. We went again when I was 6 (back to the same villa my grandparents owned in Jamaica, which my uncles sold to Sandals several years ago – boo!). Thus, any memories I have (and I do have some) are a mix of those two trips. Either way, I must have enjoyed those trips, because I just got back from my 6th visit to the island!

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      1. Thanks! I recognize how truly fortunate I was to be born into a family that not only had the means for regular travel (an insurance salesman and a homemaker with 4 kids – remember the days when that would net you a perfectly adequate lifestyle?), but also a thirst for it.

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  11. We spent the summer in Maine in 1962 for the launch of Telstar because my dad was in charge of satellite acquisition. Our cabin in the woods was visited by a bat one night. Exciting!

    My grandparents took us on Mystery Trips, including an overnight trip to Kennebunkport Maine with lots of fried clams to eat at the Clam Shack on the bridge in the center of town. And croquet to play at the
    Cabot Cove Cottages. Fun memories!

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  12. First real vacation…hum 1978..I was 8 and went to Wildwood NJ with my parents and my brother. It was the ONLY time we went to the shore. Mostly my brother and I accompanied our parents to Penn National Raceway…yeah what kid do you know loved going to the horse races almost every Summer. Lol

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  13. Both my parents’ families lived in Trenton, so my first real vacation memories center around trips to the Jersey shore – Seaside Heights specifically. Wandering the boardwalk, playing arcade games, eating the most delicious tomato pies ever.

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  14. Sweet, sweet memories of your early youth and later youth. 🙂
    I’m pretty sure my first vacation(s) were to Disney World, two and a half hours away. That was only with my Mom though; Dad didn’t believe in taking us to places that cost money😜.

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    1. I loved zoos and museums as a child., to be honest I still do. The closest I came to a large theme park back then was something called Great Adventure … not nearly Disney size but fun when you’re little and easily impressed.

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