Friday, April 17, 2026
Some people can luxuriate, but only in temporary vignettes called vacations. They need a “getaway.” They have to go off to that mountain hideout, light a fire, put on the coffee, cozy up, and sit a spell. But soon, the spell wears off. Eww, that’s too cozy. Now, we’ve got to get away from the getaway.
What’s the getaway paradise? Many people have homes that look like opulent, palatial villas—hot tubs, saunas, pools, and playthings galore. They have wraparound porches and verandas, balconies, and all the amenities that seem to allow an indulgent life, full of play. But Jack is still a dull boy.
Why aren’t people luxuriating in luxurious homes? Why isn’t anyone basking in the soothing ointments and silkiness of their expensive towels, while being sensuous in their opulent steam showers? Where are the “zen people” that live in “zen environments?”
You would think that luxury homes would have gregarious people—those who indulge slowly, who sit a spell in their hand-crafted rockers, and who take their time relishing in the Belgian chocolate stuffed in their cupboards and the Tuscan wine crammed into their cellars.
You would expect not ingratiating people, but savory ones who have mastered being inviting and who have embodied serenity; those who take full advantage of their lavender amenities, infused with rose hips and Tahitian vanilla.
Don’t fool yourself if you move to the mountains for a getaway. If you can’t luxuriate in your coffee on a “typical” Thursday during the “workweek,” what makes you think a getaway is in order? When you get to your getaway, you’ll be in your getaway car in no time. You’re a foolish ingrate or an inmate who “needs” a breakout.
Why getaway? What are you guilty of, except building your own prison? Sit a spell. The lap of luxury is yours, but so is the prison cell from which you so desperately wish to be free.