According to Hofmann: Always root for the packers
A recent vacation has reinforced my longing for a staycation, which is where you鈥檙e off work, but you stay at home and watch television for a week and see what kind of molds and fungus grow from your living corpse.
I鈥檝e taken plenty of staycations during my single days. I spent one memorable summer in a recliner. I even sent out homemade postcards of my scenic view of my television as I used a good chunk of my staycation catching up on my 鈥淭he Muppet Show鈥� DVDs.
Ah, good times.
However, marriage seems to sink those times like a flaming oil rig as my wife, Amber, and 10-year-old stepdaughter, Emma, insist on actually 鈥渉eading out鈥� and 鈥渘ot doing stuff you want to do鈥� during a vacation.
I could go through the laundry list of things I hate about traveling to and staying at the beach, but like the laundry on the list, I鈥檒l just skip to the fungi-riddled underwear and discuss packing the family car.
Before even thinking about packing a car, you have to pack your bags.
I base my packing on the experience of previous vacations to the beach as I stuff a bag full of shirts, shorts, swim trunks, lots and lots of underwear, toothbrush, deodorant, cigars, multiple flasks, a bullwhip and a flare gun, but that鈥檚 another column for another time.
All in all, it takes me about 10 minutes, and it鈥檚 done moments before we depart from the house. Sometimes I鈥檒l pack en route to our destination.
However, for Amber and Emma, their three-hour packing time is scheduled two days in advance, special mood lighting is required and the decision on what items to be packed is made by heated debate, public input and the expected barometric pressure of the area we鈥檙e going to visit.
Of course, it doesn鈥檛 stop with clothes as my wife has special carry bags for towels, snacks, toiletries, actual toilets, beach stuff, riot gear and balloon animals.
Before marriage, I always saw packing the car as an easy and boring necessity.
I remember when I was a kid, and my dad would have my brother and me haul luggage to him as he stood before the open trunk of the family minivan, cursing the ratio of free trunk space to junk the family had presented for the packing.
But he managed to perfectly fit everything in the truck after putting stuff in, taking stuff out, having me or my brother hold it, moving stuff around, piling stuff and eventually balancing stuff on top of other stuff so the vibration of a cough could cause it to avalanche before he could close the minivan鈥檚 rear door.
After all that, the only advice he gave us was 鈥渁lways pack the big things first鈥�.
It turned out to be sage advice that got me through some pretty rough times and also prepared me for family-car packing鈥ell, that and years of playing the block-puzzle video game Tetris.
In my latest adventure, I had about five 鈥渂ig things鈥� which pretty much took up all the space in the back of my wife鈥檚 subcompact sport utility vehicle. With that luggage packed in the vehicle, I had about, give or take, 40 smaller items to fit inside. And by 鈥渇it鈥�, I mean 鈥渟hove and curse with all my being鈥� until the rear door could close.
No matter how much 鈥渇itting鈥� I tried, it was way overstuffed like me in my pants after Thanksgiving dinner.
After a quick sob in the driveway, I unpacked the car and started prioritizing the luggage and soon wondered why Emma had not one, but two miniature suitcases with handles and wheels.
The first piece of luggage had what I expected including shirts, shorts, swimsuits, Bic lighters, brass knuckles, etc. The second, however, matched the contents of the first case, but she had filled it with accessories for her creepy dolls.
鈥淓mma, we don鈥檛 have the space for a whole suitcase just for your doll clothes,鈥� I said.
鈥淏ut, daaaaaaady, she can鈥檛 go naked!鈥� she whined.
鈥淕ood point,鈥� I said. 鈥淚鈥檒l put all the doll stuff in a garbage bag and 鈥榝it鈥� it in the back. If that doesn鈥檛 work, it鈥檚 going to be piled beside you in the back seat.鈥�
The backseat turned out to be a wonderful car-packing crutch that I took no hesitation on which to hobble as I was able to pile everything in the vehicle, avoiding the aneurysm that comes with trying to figure out what can 鈥渇it鈥� where while doing my father and grandfather and the fathers before them proud.
Of course, I had to instruct Emma to use her snorkel to breathe through the mountain of junk that buried her in the backseat and to yank on a cord three times if she鈥檚 in trouble or needs a bathroom stop.
Even Emma recognized the need involved (or I assumed that鈥檚 what she muttered under the bags of beach balls) because, without the ones who do the car packing, the great American summer vacation would suffer, and all of us would be sentenced to staycations and moldy clothes.
You鈥檙e welcome.
According to Hofmann is written by staff reporter Mark Hofmann of Rostraver Township. His books, 鈥淕ood Mourning! A Guide to Biting the Big One鈥nd Dying, Too鈥� and 鈥淪tupid Brain,鈥� are available on Amazon.com. He co-hosts the 鈥淟ocally Yours鈥� radio show on WMBS 590 AM every Friday.