The things I find in my email inbox… I mean, besides those pleading letters from my rich Nigerian uncle.
According to the National Center for Policy Analysis, the European Union has declared traveling a human right. The next logical step for the EU to take is to subsidize vacationing for the young, the old and the disadvantaged in between.
What will those crazy, progressive Europeans think of next?
Personally, I can’t wait until pond-jumping socialism takes a stranglehold in the good old U S of A. For one thing, I figure it’s the Continent’s revenge for allowing the colonists’ revolt and subsequent rise as Super Power. It’s the “what goes around comes around” theory of human existence. Rise and fall, and all that jolly rot.
I’m wringing my hands in glee over government health care, even though past experience as an Army dependent tells me I should get all of my baseline tests done now, before the waiting and mediocrity begins. Health care reform comes at a great time, just as I’m getting older and therefore I am feeling too worn down to fight with insurance companies anymore. What a relief it is to know the government will take care of me as I approach my final years. I wonder if they’ll pay for the funeral, too? Hint: I really want a gold-trimmed pink casket with frilly pillows edged in Venetian lace.
Years ago – sometime after dinosaurs became extinct and just before landing my post office job – I had written off ever receiving a dime of my Social Security benefits. Once a year when the letter of benefits came in the mail, my husband would relate how much cash I would clean up with should he suffer an untimely demise. At the same time, a cartoon bubble would appear over my head as I contemplated new ways of making money. I might be old, but I’m not stupid and possess a few skills. Now I don’t have to worry about finding gainful employment or having to resort to a cat food diet (if I can still afford the cat) or whether or not I can convince the kids to let their mom move in. There’s no chance of homelessness with Uncle Sam at the helm.
But declaring vacations as a human right? What absolute friggin’ genius!
As it is now, leaving the state involves the jockeying of time and resources. I don’t have unlimited funds, and must carefully plan for a minimum of disruption. I’m not like the President of the United States, who can jet off to Hawaii for rest and relaxation, or the Speaker of the House who closed up shop early last summer so she could spend a couple of weeks in Italy. It’s far more delicate of a situation here on Main Street. I left for a week to put my son in college and returned to find my desk buried — and I vowed never again.
Once vacationing is expected as a human right and doled out to the masses, I can take my turn and finally enjoy a real holiday — not three or four days strung out from a long weekend, but a real holiday.
As a disadvantaged American, I would put in for two weeks in Tahiti or a grand tour of Asia. Or should I opt for the South Pole? After all, it might be my human right to go wherever my whimsy takes me.
Or maybe I'll give up my rights to vacationing. I know a good trade! Set me up in San Francisco (cheap house no more than ten blocks from the ocean), and I'll work like a dog for the rest of my life. It's my dream. Or should I wait until dreams become a human right?
No matter how you slice it, the vacation angle of the “human rights” discussion takes the proverbial cake.
Hand me a knife and dessert plate; I want my piece.