About a month ago, the New York Times offered a “Practical Traveler” article, “Planning the Perfect Vacation.” As a recovering perfectionist—and talented vacationer—I found the article to be both insightful and unfortunate.

• Are vacations a dying art?

So many people barely bother to vacation any more.  They’re too busy.  Can’t afford it.  Hate planning.  Or just let it slip away, like so many (dare I say) responsibilities.  Many who do manage to sneak away do so for just a few days; the trend remains for shorter breaks.  And “staycations” have gone mainstream.

That staycation may be a brilliant way to use the PTO days and unwind.  But really, who has mastered the challenge of staying home yet avoiding chores, routines, email/SM/TV/smart phone and all that?

Sometimes countless hours on a hammock with a view or a book might be what the Doctor of Well-Being would prescribe.

• Great ideas; too bad we need ‘em

Still, a high-profile story like this reminds us to step back and think about our little BreakAway.  Great tips like “Relish the anticipation” remind us that foreplay and faith offer part of the fun.  “Make your time count” means stop sight-seeing; start relaxing.

And of course, “Ditch the smartphone” asserts that less screen time is so much more calming—and that the term “weisure” has landed in our vocabulary to describe the regrettable trend of working while resting.  Yuck!

• Hardest working, least happy

Surveys, books, and one’s own travels continue to confirm that Americans are among the hardest-working people on earth, yet are also among the unhappiest.  That’s a complex disorder to fix, but there are ways each of us can fight that funk.

Like, take your vacation already, before another sweet summer fades away!

It’s my opinion that nobody ever regrets opening their minds to the gift of free time.

If you long for a career break—or break of any kind—what is that tipping point that makes you finally GO?  And what about where?  My friends at Meet, Plan, Go! have been asking all hosts to answer that question; my story runs today.

• Deciding where to go

In my family’s case, we felt like we were nearly there.  After all, we’d done the hard work—made the decision, set the budget, and begun navigating most of the 555 obstacles.  But there was one problem:  We didn’t know where to go.  For months, we debated.  A good problem to have, yes!  Fun?  Not so much.

• Yet another strange twist…

The strange source of inspiration that finally ended the conundrum turned out to be a long-lost, faded, travel article in a forgotten file—that I literally stumbled on while purging piles in my office. That’s strange; I still think so.

But in yet another strange twist of alignment, the person who co-runs MPG and posted my story, Michaela Potter, was responsible for stuffing the envelope…while an intern at a PR firm…that was hired to promote Grenada tourism…which reached the journalist…who took the bait, booked the trip, and wrote the story.

Grenada was pushing hard to revive its tourism after the infamous invasion during the Reagan administration.

That was in 1996—about 13 years before I found the article and ended up in Grenada.  Today, Michaela and I made that bizarre, but remarkable, connection.  I’m still gripping my forehead.

• Ripples across the water

In a way, these stories of travel and BreakAways continue long after the plane brings you home again.  There are memories, yes, but also connections yet to be made.

Michaela and I made another today.  My thanks to her, Sherry Ott, and the all good people advocating career breaks because we BELIEVE!

Sabbaticals and career breaks continue to make big news (if you look in the right places).  Moreover, the definitions keep expanding—for better or worse—to include everything from two-days of tax-free shopping to checking into treatment for the umpteenth time.  Serious students of Sabbatical Theory should consider:

• The “Snap Year.” Brits have forever provided the world’s best role modeling for taking a “gap year.”  Youth strap on the backpack—and BreakAway—to see the world, celebrate graduation, and delay career commencement.  The number of volunteer heroes has plummeted, though, as has the time period set aside to wander.  Snap year?  My bum!  This most dreadful news.

• The Annual Tax Sabbatical. This break lasts only two days—an absurdly short sabbatical by any measure.  Still, whenever you give people a haitus from taxes, they get giddier than Tea Party fanatics at a Michelle Bachman rally.  So whatever you call it, a welcome sabbatical it is!

• The Addiction Career Break. Melanie Griffith is pushing spin-dry.  Again.  We wish the best for Melanie, of course.  But really now, how come all that a celeb has to do to get a “career break” is relapse into addiction?  The rest of us would be shipped off to “rehab.”  No, no, no!

• The Un-digital Sabbatical. Once again, someone smart has been studying this site and taken our advice not only to BreakAway, but to do so sans digitalia.  In this case, our follower shall also pursue much unplugged meditation.  While impressive, it does beg the question:  Why do so many people who do this feel the need to tell all about it on the internets?

• The Pirate Break. After a summer of untellable pillaging, high-end parenting, and stormy weather, this BreakAway advocate has snuck away to Okoboji—a neverneverland where pirates rule the day and few other rules apply.  We all need a few places that provide such good booty and revelry.  Happy sails!

In the pursuit of repose and pleasure, one can find inspiration in the strangest of places.  For me, being in the middle of a body of water virtually guarantees some soothing soul space.  But be careful where you float:  There are some queer birds out there!

Like these two lovebirds—flying solo together.  Oh sure, their craft was mobile, even though the wings had been clipped.  But when I asked where they were headed, they simply smiled and said, “Nowhere.”

And that’s exactly where they went.  For at least a few hours, their odd craft just rode the breeze in the middle of the lake, as if to ask us gung-ho kayakers and frenetic skiers

What’s the big hurry?  Aren’t you just going in circles?”

The loons weren’t happy about the monstrous beast.  But then, they get all agitated about stand-up paddleboards too (this year’s new floating fad).  A few grizzled fishermen also rolled their eyeballs.

As for me, they made my day.  So I took a pic, got out of their way, and followed their example by slowing down and floating for a while.

Some of us preach the Gospel of Sabbatical and insist your career will be fine—no, better!—with breaks.  I try to apply that lifestyle to my daily grind, which leads to a stubborn regimen of outdoor time, exercise, chillaxing, and unplugging.  Of all of these, unplugging has become the most impossible.  Help!

You can hide, but you can’t run away”

It’s summer.  Dive into it before the long days fade into fall, right? Do more bar-b-que and less Chili’s. Eat more fresh fruits and fewer roots.  Watch a parade, ball game, and fireworks instead of your various SCREENS.

But prepare to pay the price, which, for me, in a matter of a few days, included:

• 755 unread emails
• 2,400 messages in my in-box (which I sweep out regularly)
• Lost messages, a check, and a bill (yay!)
• A disappointed friend whose text invitation I did not notice
• A money mess

And yet, one feels so…attached”

The conundrum thickens.  The more you step away from your (digital) desk, the larger the (proverbial) piles will be when you return.  So it’s little wonder that people seem plugged in 24/7.  Just in the past few days, I’ve witnessed now-common things like…

• A senior citizen swerving while driving…because she was on her cel phone
• Members of my household doing three digital devices…while watching TV
• A gaggle of teen girls at a baseball game…all staring at their “smart” phones
• A young man texting while driving…while eating a Big Mac
• A jam-packed coffee shop…with everybody screen-ing, and nobody talking

I would prefer not to…”

When Herman Mellville’s novella, “Bartleby the Scrivener,” made famous that quote, he presaged how many of us feel about insistent digital demands.  But note that Bartleby’s “preference” is not an outright refusal.

And should you refuse, prepare to pay the price.

And for no one to listen.

In late May, an email arrived with the poignant header, “The Break is Over.”  But next came the good news: “The trip exceeded all expectations (and I had high expectations going in).” Could you ask for more?  Sure:  “Now I just have to figure out how we can do it again!”

Welcome home, Dan Woychick and family.  As we reported in October, Dan ditched his thriving Minneapolis design business, embraced the challenge of home schooling, and flew off into a career break featuring an ambitious Euro itinerary—including the Cinque Terre in Italy, as seen in this photo.

One can only hope Dan found much time to relax because—sheesh!—he sure created an impressive family blog and took time to share insights on his business blog.

But that’s the beauty of a career break:  You make time to do excactly what you want—and work on a mission of choice.  For family Woychick, it appears they hit for the cycle:  Relaxation; education; exploration; and illustration (drawing was of Dan’s personal goals).

Dan and fam made it back in time for summer—brilliant!  Here, Dan takes on the 11 questions every career breaker must answer upon returning to reality.

• Biggest getaway challenge

Initially, the biggest challenge may have been wrapping our arms around the trip planning – every day a new detail to add to the list, then each one splintering into little sub-problems to solve. Eventually we pieced together a workable travel itinerary thanks to a small group of trusted advisors and websites. One of the biggest challenges was deciding how to have enough reading material for three voracious readers. Solution? Two Kindles, plus leaving paperbacks as presents whenever and wherever they were finished by all.

• Grandest arrival

Arriving in Paris on a fine Spring evening and dining al fresco in the Marais district with our giddy boys. We floated home around midnight, slept in until 10:00, and the beignets, pain au chocolat, and incredibly fresh strawberries the next morning were a wonderful welcome to France.

• Favorite place

There were a lot of great moments and great days – most of them involve watching our boys having fun – but I don’t know that I could single one out. I’d like to return to England, Paris, Rome, Cinque Terre, and the Greek Islands, and visit lots of other places we didn’t get to on this trip.

• Logistical nightmare

We had some inconveniences, but I wouldn’t categorize any of them as nightmares.

An unspecified strike in Rome the day we were scheduled to arrive left us a few train stops short of Roma Termini station – with no idea where we were, why we were there, or how to get to our apartment.

Similarly, an announced strike in Greece had us reshuffling our plans. We switched from a two-hour ferry to Sifnos to a six-hour ferry and cut our stay in Athens by one day.

Beware the travel days!

• Most meaningful moment

On one of our last days on Sifnos, near the end of our trip, as the boys played in the surf and we enjoyed beverages from the beachside bar, I turned to Rebecca and said: “We did pretty good.” I was proud of what we had set out to do as a family. The trip exceeded expectations at every turn.

• Worst disaster

See the story of our lost day in a Paris train station as our overnight sleeper car to Florence never showed up.

• Serendipitous experience

On a day trip to London, after seeing the city from the London Eye, we wandered the banks of the Thames enjoying the street performers. Eli, our youngest son, was chosen by a Charlie Chaplin impersonator to become part of the act. The kid may have a future in show business! Here’s his story.

• Strangest encounter

The strangest – for Lucas, our ten-year-old – was when he decided to be adventurous and ordered a seafood platter that included some creatures that would have been better left in the sea. Most annoying? Pushy street vendors attempting to sell their wares while we tried to enjoy a meal in Rome.

• Requisite health dilemma

This was one of our worries, but about the worst we experienced were some blisters from walking so much in Florence.

• Profound take-away

This was the right thing to do at the right time for the right reasons. Many have described it as “the trip of a lifetime.” I hope not. I plan to keep on living – and taking trips. Whether going to Cub Foods or the Caribbean, just about any trip can be a worthwhile experience with the right attitude, a little good fortune, and the right companions.

• Re-entry vibe

The first few days back I saw Minneapolis with fresh eyes – I like my home and my home town! There’s maybe a little letdown in that there isn’t currently something big to aim toward, a sense of being neither here nor there, but I’m sure we’ll dream up something.

What does freedom mean to you?  Americans continue to feud about that question like the Hatfields and McCoys.  But to this Yankee, personal freedom means, above all, freedom from financial angst.  Life is too short to spend it fretting about debt, regret, and lost dreams.

• Money Maven Kara McGuire Suggests 5 Tips

It’s not that hard to get out of the red.  Just yesterday, the Star Tribune’s “Your Money” column offered 5 tips that may be easier read than done, but can help achieve financial indpendence.  The author suggests spending some holiday weekend time (on the hammock) pondering these sensible ideas.

Like…

1. Revisit your retirement-saving regimen.
2. Teach your children well—including common sense about dollars and cents.
3. Free yourself from debt.  ‘Nuff said.
4. Just say no, thank you, to pricey splurges.
5. Seek financial independence by brushing up on your estate and retirement planning.

• America has a spending problem

Thanks to Ms. McGuire for keeping the holiday speech upbeat.  That’s not easy. Consider:  A TIME magazine poll recently found that 19% of Americans think they are in the top 1% of income earners.  With such widespread delusional living, it’s no surprise we have an epidemic of economic dysfuncionality.

• Set yourself free

The good news, of course, is that here in the USA, we remain mostly free to determine our own destiny.  Our money habits will determine much of that fate, as well as whether one can afford that career break, or even a simple, sweet vacation at the lake.

So take Kara’s advice.  And if you want 11 (super-short) more ideas, speed-read my “11 Commandments of Fiscal Fitness.” Then, enjoy a day off.  Watch the clouds and the fireworks.  And envision a life free from financial fear.

Summer arrives in Minnesota like molasses in January.  So when it finally hits, we again learn the thrill of life in the slow lane.  Oh sure, schedules scream for attention even during the sultry months.  But this Summer Guy still reveres the 3-month break of his youth—and reckons the 5 5-word Mantras harken back too. 

• It’s not a financial decision.  In summer, the best things are free—like swimming, bandshell concerts, and Hammock time. 
• Everything is right on schedule.  Calendars and clocks will not dictate when the corn is ripe or the BBQ is ready, but you’ll know exactly when it’s time. 
• When all else fails, punt.  Your baseball team keeps losing?  It rained on your 4^th of July parade?  Boat motor won’t start?  Don’t sweat it!  Just grab a book or a beer, and kick it. 
• I’m determining my own destiny.  Careers and IRAs matter much, of course.  But just for today, try living just for today; don’t postpone fishing! 
• You can go home again.  Summer is a great time for a road trip to your childhood campground, your faraway friends, or Grandma’s farm.  They’re waiting for you. 

So get off your digitalia.  Get out in the light.  And get your summer groove on. 

After all, summer is and was the Original Sabbatical.  Lucky for us, it rolls into our lives every blessed year.

You meet the most interesting people in cyberspace.  One of them who recently crossed my vector is the talented Alexis Grant—travel writer, social media coach, and career-beat journalist for US News and World Report.

Like so many of us, she’s become possessed by this notion of career breaks—and thus interviewed me about my experiences, ideas, and jabberwocky.  I enjoy nothing more than practicing Sabbatical babble, so we had a lovely converation.  Lexi recently extracted one particularly brilliant quote for her most excellent blog.

If you say you never could do that, you certainly never will. But every one of those obligations is a choice. Getting up in the morning is a choice. Taking your kids to that game, going to work. You face hundreds of choices every day, and you just keep saying yes, yes, yes to them. And that’s great, and that’s what gets you through the day and gets you success. But there’s also the choice to sometimes say, I don’t want to do that, I don’t want to work every day of my life.” (Kirk Horsted)

My deepest thanks go to Lexi—not only for the post, of course, but also for the reminder.  Because, here, today, the new summer routine of playing chef, chauffeur, and chaperone to my kids (8 and 14) has gotten out of control, particularly when piled atop countless other obligations that don’t take summer vacation.

• Remember the “N” word!

So sometimes, a guy’s just gotta say No! No! No! And then say YES to yourself when pondering,

Would I like to sneak in a kayak ride right now?”

On that note, the water calls.  Summer is here, life is short, and breaking for solitude and exercise is the right choice!

Thanks again, Lexi.

“Wouldn’t have regretted a single penny.”  “Overthinking it.”  “Things went downhill quickly.”  “The city of lights earned its title.”

In 11 quick questions, Doug Mack serves up just a taste of his bold trip through Europe with no guidebook—except a dated (as in 1960s!) gem he found at a book festival.  His idea was so clever, and his trip so epic, that a publisher picked it up immediately.  (But you’ll have to wait until 2012 to buy your copy.)

To hear more—live and in person—please join Mr. Mack and me next Thursday, 6/23, for a MeetUp at Ginger Hop in Nordeast Minneapolis.  Meantime, read on to learn more about the bottom line of his big idea:  “Travel is more fun when you’re a bit ignorant.”

11 QUESTIONS  :  DOUG MACK

• Biggest getaway challenge.

Well, I suppose money and vacation time are always the biggest hurdles, and they were for me, too. I had a small  travel fund built up, but also put a fair amount on a credit card, considering it an investment that would, I hoped, pay off in the long term in the form a of a book deal. I’m very lucky that things really did work out that way, but even if they hadn’t, I’m a big believer that experiences are more valuable than stuff, and I wouldn’t have regretted a single penny.

I also didn’t have much vacation time built up at my day jobs (yes, jobs plural), but I was fortunate to have accommodating bosses who were willing to let me take a fair amount of time without pay.

I’d been thinking about a big trip for years. Over-thinking it, actually—trying to find just the right time, just the right circumstances. Worrying about the details of the journey and wondering who would fill in for me at work. There came a point, though, when I decided to just do it. I traveled to Europe for a couple of weeks in 2008, and then came back and thought about how badly I wanted to return … and then, the July, I just decided I was going back for six weeks, in August. Just told myself I was going to do it with minimal preparation. Possibly the best decision I’ve ever made.

• Grandest arrival.

Venice. Seriously, the sense of arrival there is without peer: you step out of the train station and you are on. The Grand. Canal. And it looks exactly like you think it looks: the water teeming with gondolas and dinghies and delivery boats; the elaborate stone bridge leading to the other side; the elaborate and slightly crumbling historic buildings. I got there just after sunrise, when the soft amber light and long shadows made everything seem all the more dramatic and impossibly picturesque.

Unfortunately . . . that was the best part of my time in Venice—things went downhill quickly (a long story in itself). But the arrival. My God. Amazing.

• Favorite place.

Hmm . . . I hate this question, to be honest, because I have a hard time answering it. (Actually, I just blogged about this problem.) Depends on the day. Lately, I’ve been craving gelato and on a historic-building kick, so right now I’ll say Rome. If you’re ever there, go to Gelateria del Teatro. Thank me later

• Logistical nightmare.

Well, when you travel with a 45-year-old guidebook, every day is full of minor annoyances—logistical headaches if not nightmares. Beyond that, though, there was a train ride from Munich to Zurich. Should be simple: You get on in the first city, then off in the second. But if the person at the ticket desk in Munich gives you specific instructions that turn out to be wrong, the journey is a bit more complicated. My friend Lee and I ended up riding five different trains, with a brief detour through Austria (which was not included on Lee’s Eurail pass, although the attendants never noticed when the checked our tickets). There were a few moments of minor panic and several long hours of unnecessary train-riding.

But I really can’t complain. I mean, we were riding a European train (safe and comfortable) through the Alps, so we had a front-row view of countless chateau-lined villages and towering peaks and sparkling lakes with crumbling castles on the distant shores. Not bad scenery to stare at, slack-jawed, for a few hours.

• Most meaningful moment.

Sunset at Montmartre in Paris. My outdated guidebook said I should go there at dusk, but didn’t explain why or what you’d see—so I went without any expectations.      Now, apparently most people already know this, but it turns out the reason you go there is that it’s a hill with a view of the whole city. So I get to the top and I there it is: Paris laid out below me, sprawling to the horizon, the street lamps just switching on as the City of Lights earned its title. It wasn’t meaningful for the amazing view, though (at least not per se) but for the fact that it was such a powerful example of the (occasional!) benefit of a bit of lowered expectations and willful ignorance. I’m certain that if I’d known what was up there, I would have looked for photos on Flickr beforehand and built my day around getting there at precisely the right time for the ideal light, and generally built it up in my mind such that it could never live up to the hype. Instead, I saw it without that filter of expectations, and it was all the more enchanting and revelatory, a discovery rather than just something to check off my list.

• Worst disaster.

I almost feel guilty saying this, but I really didn’t have one. I could stretch the definition and talk about some frustrating experiences getting lost or having hilariously awkward conversations with restaurant workers and hotel desk clerks who couldn’t understand why I was toting around this old guidebook. But no real disasters. They make for good stories, I realize, but I’m content to avoid them.

• Serendipitous experience.

So many, starting from the moment back in Minneapolis when I happened upon this old guidebook at a book festival. That night in Montmartre might not have been truly serendipitous, but it definitely had an element of accidental discovery. And in Zurich, which is by far the most expensive city I’ve ever visited, Lee and I were feeling broke and exhausted one afternoon, when we stumbled upon a long line of locals outside a hole-in-the-wall cafe. It turned out to be a genuinely cheap (and not just by Zurich standards) takeout joint with excellent food.

• Strangest encounter.

In Paris, there was this one restaurant that my guidebook (have I mentioned it was a bit outdated?) described for a good half-page—it’s incredibly cheap, it’s a hidden gem with no other tourists, the décor is classic Parisian bistro, all tile floors and wooden booths and plants in massive urns.

So after several frustrating days of bumbling around Paris, I go there, thinking, sweet, a cheap, quiet meal—finally! The first thing I noticed upon arrival was a huge poster in the window, advertising the Jack Nicholson/Diane Keaton romantic comedy “Something’s Gotta Give.” There’s an article with the poster, noting that part of the movie was filmed there. Meaning it’s now a huge tourist magnet. And not at all cheap. I walked in and the maitre d’ gave me this horrified look that basically said, “Ah, merde, another one of those Diane Keaton groupies.”

You’ll have to read the book for the full story (sorry!), but it was a spectacularly strange and awkward meal.

• Requisite health dilemma.

I had a really bad cold in Vienna and wandered around the city in a haze of sinus pain and cold medicine. Add this to the fact that this was about two-thirds of the way through my trip and I was getting jaded and tired, and you have a recipe for some serious grumpiness and ennui. I moped and sniffled my way through Vienna, although I did at least try to cough in 4-4 time, in keeping with the musical spirit of the city.

• Profound take-away.

Travel is more fun when you’re a bit ignorant. By that, I don’t mean culturally unaware or ill-equipped to travel but rather trying to do as much as possible relying simply on your own wits and common sense. I’m typically a control freak and a technology-addicted over-planner, but traveling without much research or planning forced me to just go with the flow and also to learn constantly, to be forced to be tuned into the place/culture and try to soak it up quickly because it was the only way I could survive.

I doubt I’ll travel abroad again without a modern guidebook and some internet research, but I’ll also try to remind myself not to be constrained by all of that information, either, and to get lost and rely on good old-fashioned serendipity as much as possible. There’s nothing wrong with being a bit confused—in fact, I think it makes travel all the more delightful and rewarding.

• Re-entry vibe.

Jarring, particularly since a week after I got back from Europe, I went on a cruise with my parents, my sister, her husband, and their year-old twins. After solo backpacking around Europe, being on a cruise ship was like mainlining American culture in all its excess: Endless buffets! Cheesy comedians! Cabin attendants! Duty-free shopping at every turn! It was refreshing to see familiar faces and hear a familiar language and sleep without being woken up by the students in the hostel room next door . . . but still: deeply, inexpressibly jarring. My own country felt entirely foreign.