The Wall Street Journal yesterday kicked off a four-part series that posed a softball question perfectly suited for the season we’re entering: What do you hope to do this summer?
It’s a great idea, especially when executed by four fine WSJ writers with ambitious goals:
“Kevin Helliker is determined to swim Lake Michigan.”
“Beach reads are for winter, Cynthia Crossen says. She plans on tackling ‘War & Peace’ this summer.”
“Darren Everson’s goal is to visit every Major League ballpark in the country.”
“From Bangkok, Stan Sesser meditates on the joys of seasonal produce.”
The WSJ requires a paid subscription, so you may not be able to read these essays.
But why let a fun writing exercise pass us by?
Here are my summer aspirations:
ROAD TRIP!!!
This fall, our three daughters will be in college. I’d like to load up the family minivan and head to destinations unknown. Sure, five in a vehicle run the risk of fractious territorial claims.
But we all still have fond memories of a trip to D.C. several years ago. With Kathy at the wheel, I read aloud “Disgrace,” a 1999 novel by South African Nobel Laureate J. M. Coetzee. I had loved the book — about a twice-divorced communications professor who is sacked after seducing a student and tumbles into a series of misadventures in South Africa — and I wanted to share it with my fellow passengers.
Despite its adult themes, the book riveted our young teens and sparked interesting conversations as we drove along the interstate.
BLOOM, PLEASE
I’d like to chronicle in photos the crepe myrtle I gave Kathy for Christmas. Planted in our front yard, its branches have sprouted green leaves, but we’re waiting for the blossoms that have captivated her for years.
NO ERIC CLAPTON AM I
But of all the instruments out there, the guitar has always held the most appeal. Perhaps it’s the memory of my pathetic attempts to learn, “Mrs. Brown, You’ve Got a Lovely Daughter” by Herman and the Hermits. I’d like to take guitar lessons.
CHILL
This will be the hardest. I’m a lousy vacationer, always bringing my laptop and an umbrella of deadlines that masks the sunlight of freedom and relaxation. But I’m going to work hard on relaxation. (Told you I had a problem.)
When fall comes, how do you want to answer that perennial first day-of-school assignment: How did I spend my summer vacation?
