A Man and His Vacation; or, Low-Falutin' Holiday

I'm a simple man. I don't need much to make me content. For instance, right now I'm sitting on the couch with a Corona watching some baseball – in a condo in Branson, Mo., which means I'm miles away from my daily worries.

For me, this qualifies as a high-falutin' holiday. If my father-in-law were not kind enough to foot most of the bill, I'd have to settle for something less falutin', but that'd be OK. I don't need a yacht or a private beach or a masseuse. Those would be great, but I don't require much.

All these celebrities, and other super-rich folks, like those things. That's cool. This resort I'm at is pretty nice, though: three pools, a big ol' lake, a small basketball court, free wi-fi, a playground for the kids. That's plenty.

My wife makes an annual trip with her mom and sisters to exotic destinations like Puerto Vallarta and Jamaica. Really nice resorts with lots of perks and free drinks and whatnot. I've never even been out of the country.

Heck, don't know what I'd do in that kind of setting. Probably just find a couch, a Corona and a baseball game. And maybe a massage.

Today's Redneck Thought: "I took everybody in my family to Hawaii, 13 people, thinking this would be the vacation of  a lifetime. It ended up being, 'The Clampetts Go to Maui.'" – Jeff Foxworthy