HOLIDAYITIS.

Auckland Star, Volume LXIV, Issue 4, 6 January 1933, Page 12

HOLIDAYITIS.

WORK—AND REGRETS. PAINFUL JOYS OF SUNBURN. MEMORIES OF THE "BACH." The holidays are over. Christmas greetings and presents are a thing of the past. The restless days between that season and' New Year have come and gone. Even New Year has become yesterday. Holiday-makers—or the majority— have returned to mundane routine, and have discovered afresh how much of a routine it is. They are suffering from a species of the "morning after the night before," or perhaps, more aptly, "holidayitis." The holidays have ended, but the memory lingers on., The memory lingers on —in more ways than one. It is the evening of one of the first days after the holiday break. John has just come home from the beach. It is after the usual teatime for the rest of the family, so that he has perforce to have tea by himself, a meal of odds' and ends. Just in the middle of a tes, as he looks up at the familiar wall paper, the same -furnishings, the same, yes, even the-same cup,' he thinks back to what he has ju6t left. What He Has Left. About 8 o'clock. Yes, Bill would just about be starting to growl over his inevitable turn at the dishes. . There would be a good many, too, for in his bach they had a washing-up only once a day. Geoff would have the old ukulele out on the verandah; there would be the usual good-natured wrangling as to whose turni "it was to supply the cigarettes. Regardless of the fact that old Geoff was playing his ukulele, Wally would have the gramophone at. full blast; and then, as-Geoff abruptly stopped and yelled a greeting, all would crowd to the door to wave good-night or an invitation (as the. case might be) to a group of : lady friends passing along the-beach outside. . John could almost hear Cliff callj "See you later." There is always a lull- in- the day's activities.at a bach just after the'evening meal. Various plans for the night are discussed. Some of the party have already made theirs. There 'is a call to- Bill for' hot water. They are shaving. Someone can't find his shavingsoap, and thereupon will ensue a mild argument. All the time it will be growing darker, and the sound of ukulele or gramophone, sometimes both together, will float out into the stillness of - the evening. - . A Tale About Sunburn. "Lucky dogs," growled John after a silence,' and then "Ow!" as he moved suddenly; for there has been a certain amount of sun these holidays, and John is very—well, John can never learn by experience. That was. the last straw. Here he was at home, feeling on fire, while his friends were going to entertain lady friends at the bach. He does not realise it. but he has succumbed to holidayitis, a malady common among youth round about Christmas. Characteristically, those who have but a little while returned from a holiday, think at first, not of the good time they have had, but of the splendid times they have left. "

John finished his tea and was careful to make no more sudden movements. "S'pose I'll have to have a bath," he grumbled, for it was work to-morrow, and one collects a fair amount of dirt in a seaside bach. John's bach had lacked a proper bath —like many another bach. Still-growling- to himself, John moved slowly from the table—for sunburn, like seasickness, is not to be taken lightly. Before he had gone away. John's mother had warned him against lying in the sun; but young men take advice like that,in the same absent way as they do inquiry about clean .singlets and a sufficiency of handkerchiefs. They just reply," "Yes,' mother," and promptly forget all about it. John remembered now, though. . ' . " ': -.;«..;-. Tale of a Tub. By this time.the bath was ready. There is no necessity do dwell on that bath. Sitting- down was a lengthy and : terrible -business. AH who have been sunburned, or who are still, will understand. When it came to getting to sleep,: John did not know which part of him was 'least burnt.- " He was all wet and sticky, to begin with—for he had "not -been able to dry himself on account of his tender skin—and he was burned.all. over. .Even his. nose was aflame, he discovered fretfully, while his back was a creditable imitation of the colour commonly - described as "lobster:" The problem was a nice one. The night was old before John found anything approaching a solution. In the morning he tried to shave. Here a<min silence is eloquent. There are many faces in towri at present like John's was that morning. The scene changes to John's place of work. Everyone is asking everyone else how the holidays went. John is doing his fair share. One of John's especial friends espies him. Describing to his men friends one or two incidents at the bach which- he had reserved especially for this occasion, John becomes animated for the first time .since the holiday ended. Then in the middle of it all, "What-ho, what-ho!" booms a hearty voice,-and a heavy hand descends on his shoulder. For a third time silence is eloquent; but that was the most unkindest cut of all. Just his luck, he thought. He is passing through another stage ,of holidayitis. And so the malady wears on, holidayitis a malady which, though unpleasant, not one of us would care to miss; for the severity of-the-attack is.in direct proportion to the enjoyment of the holiday. And it is never fatal.