"Puritanism: the haunting fear that somebody,
somewhere,
might be having a good time."--H.L. Mencken

"America's Incredible Shrinking Vacation"

Ellen Goodman, Boston Globe, August 7, 2003

CASCO BAY, Maine--BACK IN THE DAYS when Hector was a pup and the word
''e-mail'' was a typo, the ''working vacation'' was
nothing
more than an oxymoron. After all, you were either
vacationing or working. On the job or off. Now it's
become an emblem of the American economy and George
Bush, its current CEO, is spending this month as a
role
model on his 1,600-acre Prairie Chapel Ranch in
Crawford, Texas.This has raised the ire of the likes of Senator Robert
Byrd, who thundered, ''Who's watching the White
House?''
But it's also raised the dismay of others who watch
the
vacationer-in-chief conducting business and attending
fund-raisers and ask, ''Is he having any fun yet?''

Well, are we?

Do you remember those wonderful yesteryears when an
earlier Republican president under the spell of the
Maine ocean breezes came out in favor of two or three
months worth of vacation? William Howard Taft said it
was ''necessary in order to enable one to continue his
work the next year with that energy and effectiveness
which it ought to have.'' Admittedly, the rotund Taft
was a bit of a hedonist in the food department but it
shows how far we've drifted on a summer tide from
real vacation.

Americans have always been a touch suspicious of
leisure. Our Puritan patriarchs not only famously
regarded idle hands as the devil's workshop, they
believed the grindstone cleared the path to salvation.
We've long been wary of both the idle rich and the
idle
poor as threats to our democracy.

In the early 20th century a few hard-working
researchers
declared that a little time off was a good thing. Not
surprisingly, they decided that ''brain workers''
needed
a rest from days spent laboring in the minds, while
physical workers could do without it. The idea of
vacations finally caught on in the middle and working
classes, but it was never codified into the law.

Now we arrive at the summer of the incredible
shrinking
American vacation. It's predicted that we'll take 10
percent less time off than last year, and last year
was no week at the beach.

Americans have notoriously fewer vacation days than
workers in any other industrialized country. While
Europeans get four or five weeks paid leave by law,
and even the Chinese get three weeks, we average about
eight days after a year with one company and 10 days
after three years. Thirteen percent of American
companies offer no paid vacation at all.

Even more remarkable than how few days we get is how
few
we take. We essentially give back $21 million in time
owed but not taken. And in an Expedia poll, one out of
five workers said they feel guilty taking vacations.

So, which came first in the great vacation
deprivation:
the economy or the culture? Insecurity or guilt? The
work ethic or the whip?

There's no doubt that a shaky economy breeds fear that
any vacation could be permanent. Labor economist Barry
Bluestone at Northeastern University points to a
changing and insecure economy as the biggest factor.
After all, he says, ''We always had the Protestant
work
ethic. Are we more Protestant than last year? I don't
think so.'' But then the tenured Bluestone confessed
to being on a working vacation himself.

Joe Robinson, founder of a grass roots campaign to get
a
minimum three weeks of paid leave
(www.worktolive.info),
also acknowledges the role of cultural attitudes that
teach ''our esteem and self-worth can only come from
producing and doing tasks all day.''

Americans do have a stunning capacity for turning
everything into work. If you don't believe that, think
about the waiters everywhere who approach your table
with the inevitable question: ''Are you still working
on that?'' They make it sound as if chewing pasta
was an onerous job to complete.

We not only work out, we play hard, instead of
playfully. It's the spirit that turns vacations
into work.

The irony is that ''working vacation'' came into the
lingo with a wink and a nod. Now the ruse has become a
reality. Fully equipped with the toys of e-mail, voice
mail, cellphones, labor trumps leisure. It's the
reason
why 83 percent of vacationers, tethered by technology
and anxiety and expectations, check in at the office.

So here we are. A working vacation means wearing
boots while you carry the weight of the world on
your shoulders. It means standing on the beach
talking to your clients. And it means -- trust me
on this -- sitting at a laptop looking at words
on a screen instead of an ocean view.

The blessing is that we can now have a vacation
without
the guilt. And of course without the vacation.

As for rest, recreation, and time off? Well, fellow
Americans, we're still working on that.