You may not hear from me for a few days because I have no idea if I'll have Internet access by the sea. So I suggest you enjoy your Dawn vacation by doing things I never do and telling me about them afterward. For instance, you might watch Good Morning, America or American Idol or a zombie movie; play time-sucking online games, none of whose names I know; take up country line dancing or judo or the accordion; run 10 miles or swim in a quarry; wear shorts when people can see you; shop at the Dollar Store or Auto Zone or Victoria's Secret; eat limburger or scrapple or two pecan pies; pet an alligator; read the novels of Nick Hornby or Doris Lessing; plant artichokes in your garden; mash turnips into your potatoes; dye your hair or apply nail polish; develop a crush on Pete Rose, Tom Cruise, or Cornel West; sing along to the music of Kenny G; worry about being too short; tell jokes in a Balkan language; drink diet soda or chocolate martinis or decaf coffee; dream that Governor Paul LePage is your stepfather (wait, I already did that last night); sign your kid up for Vacation Bible School; marry your shrink; incorporate the word shrink into the screenplay of a 1970s-style wife-swapping comedy; write a ghazal, a novel, a cookbook, a verse drama, a scientific research paper, or a fan letter to Lassie; cut down a tree with a chain saw; wear chaps; or ride a mule.