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A review by helpfulsnowman
Vacationland: True Stories from Painful Beaches by John Hodgman
4.0
A good, but uneven collection of stories. Three very memorable ones involving becoming grown-ups, picking on other people, and a time when Hodgman took one for the team and hung out with some folks he might not have wanted to, but he did it for their sake. That makes it sound much less sweet and self-deprecating than it was. It was quite sweet and self-deprecating.
His essay about his two vacation homes didn't quite land. It started pretty funny, talking about what a problem/non-problem it is to have two vacation homes. Then it kind of turns into an essay about his wokeness. Which...I just couldn't get there. I don't have an issue with someone having two (admittedly modest, sometimes mouse-infested) vacation homes. And I think it's perfectly possible for someone of means to also care about the lives of others. But I think he sells the experience of having a vacation home as approaching a typically white experience, which is, well, insane. Or is that just me? I missed the last White People Meeting, so maybe this is where we discussed the best sleepy coastal towns in which to buy property?
I didn't disagree with him on anything he said, but somehow he opened a loop with that essay, and he didn't quite manage to close it. I felt that way about a few of the pieces. They kind of happened, and then they were just over.
I DID, however, start to think that Maine might be the spot for me. Hodgman characterizes Mainerds (I don't think that's what they're called, and neither does Google spellcheck, as evidenced by the red squiggle, but it's too late now!) as being both standoffish and very willing to help someone out. Just so long as they don't have to talk about it or hang out. His theory is that the people of Maine primarily want to be left alone and not impose on anyone else as they themselves do not want to be imposed on. To the extent that Man A needed some lumber, so he asked his neighbor, Man B, to sell him some. Man B told him to fuck off. Man B then later drove a truckload of lumber to Man A's place, dropped it off, swore at him some more, and didn't even want payment as that would drag out the interaction needed to complete this transaction.
Based on that story, I admired and respected Man B in a way that I've admired very few humans.
His essay about his two vacation homes didn't quite land. It started pretty funny, talking about what a problem/non-problem it is to have two vacation homes. Then it kind of turns into an essay about his wokeness. Which...I just couldn't get there. I don't have an issue with someone having two (admittedly modest, sometimes mouse-infested) vacation homes. And I think it's perfectly possible for someone of means to also care about the lives of others. But I think he sells the experience of having a vacation home as approaching a typically white experience, which is, well, insane. Or is that just me? I missed the last White People Meeting, so maybe this is where we discussed the best sleepy coastal towns in which to buy property?
I didn't disagree with him on anything he said, but somehow he opened a loop with that essay, and he didn't quite manage to close it. I felt that way about a few of the pieces. They kind of happened, and then they were just over.
I DID, however, start to think that Maine might be the spot for me. Hodgman characterizes Mainerds (I don't think that's what they're called, and neither does Google spellcheck, as evidenced by the red squiggle, but it's too late now!) as being both standoffish and very willing to help someone out. Just so long as they don't have to talk about it or hang out. His theory is that the people of Maine primarily want to be left alone and not impose on anyone else as they themselves do not want to be imposed on. To the extent that Man A needed some lumber, so he asked his neighbor, Man B, to sell him some. Man B told him to fuck off. Man B then later drove a truckload of lumber to Man A's place, dropped it off, swore at him some more, and didn't even want payment as that would drag out the interaction needed to complete this transaction.
Based on that story, I admired and respected Man B in a way that I've admired very few humans.