I am an arrogant braggart, according to John Kass

The following is the good part of John Kass's much longer and boring column in the Trib today. Check out the whole thing at:

http://www.chicagotribune.com/travel/chi-0608160190aug16,1,4252623.column


...So for once it was real vacation. But here's the problem. I don't want to write about it. And why is this?

Simply put, who cares about my vacation, anyway? That's why.

"You've got to write about it," said my friend Garth on Tuesday. "I love to read the Travel section. And it'd be nice for once to have some good news for a change, instead of Iraq and the crooks at City Hall. And you don't have to write 10 paragraphs about sitting with a guy in a fishing boat either. Just write about the vacation.

"Sorry, Garth, no chance. Despite the legions out there demanding to know all the details of my vacation, I'm not going to write about it. That would be like subjecting strangers to home videos, a cruel punishment indeed.

For one thing, it's a form of bragging. And besides, I loathe such columns for another reason.

Arrogant writers come back from vacation thinking that readers can't wait to read about majestic landscapes, or about lunch at some quaint beachside taverna, or ruminations on the Parthenon, formed while sitting in the shade of a mulberry tree, sipping an ouzo with ice in the early evening. Or about sitting for hours, quietly, on Mt. Parnassus, at the Oracle of Delphi, astounded by the simple and clean beauty of the place, a cypress tree near the ruins of Apollo's Temple, the blue ocean far below.

I'm not saying others can't write about their vacations. They're welcome to write about them. But don't get upset if I don't say a thing about the sunsets off the gorgeous beaches of Finikounda on the southwestern tip of country. Or the breeze at night in a home outside the village of Doria, fig trees and pots of basil in the courtyard; or driving mountain roads under a full moon, looking down at hillsides of olive trees.

I can't write that because I've been on the receiving end of such assaults by arrogant columnists. It's a terrible experience. I know how it feels.

You're sitting in your back yard, reading the paper, perched on the creaky steps off the deck knowing you'll never fix them, and you picture yourself lying to your wife, telling her that Home Depot doesn't have the right lumber for deck steps or whatever you're supposed to use, but won't. Ever.

Gas is almost $3.50 per gallon locally, with all the taxes larded on, and school is approaching--meaning new shoes for the kids--and some arrogant columnist writes about his vacation. Here's what you think:

Shut up already! Who cares about your vacation, Kass? And you'd be right. So that's the end of it.

But it is sure nice to be back home.

jskass@tribune.com

By the way, the picture above is a dhole (an Indian wild dog), not John Kass...