A glowing recommendation - again

A couple years ago, I stumbled onto a site advertising tours to Chernobyl and posted about it. I haven't thought about it much since, but with HBO airing their Chernobyl miniseries—the feel good television event of the season—now seems like the perfect time to revisit that post.

Of course, I can't actually recommend you sign up for the tour. But then, if the summer hotels and flights you wanted are booked, you have to go somewhere. AmIrite?

Anyway, read all about it and let me know if you make plans to go. Important money-saving tip: you'll only need a one-way ticket.

Summer's coming, and it's never too early to start planning that vacation.

Instead of dragging the kids to some boring, expected vacation destination with things to see and do, like Hawaii or New York, why not take them someplace they'll have memories of for a lifetime? Or a half-lifetime.

The Chornobyl Tour sounds like fun for the whole family. Just read all the glowing reviews.

Like me, I'll bet you have a lot of questions about it. I know what my first question would be, and I'm sure I know what yours is too. But—and this is the funny part—it's not the first question on the website's FAQs. That position belongs to this one about cost:

Even with the answer they give, they don't address the hidden costs. You know, things like replacement shoes, burn ointment, vomit bags—lots of vomit bags, toilet paper—lots of toilet paper, wigs and more. But I'm sure you find out about those soon enough. And as far as that top of mind question you were going to ask, don't worry, they do answer it somewhere around number 11 or 12.

Anyway, I think getting a taste of what the post-Apocalyptic landscape is like is a super idea, and especially timely now that the liar-in-chief is president and will probably nuke someplace just to distract us from the Russia story.

We'll be living in it before we know it.

Of course, Chornobyl is in Russia. So the good news is if we can wait just a bit, we'll be able to make reservations for the Precedential Suite in the new Chornobyl Trump Tower.

Don't worry about finding it. The sign is lit up around the clock.

Emergency equipment

Parenting is much more an art form than a science. It's open to different styles, various interpretations and has different value depending on who's doing it.

But I think I'm safe in saying the one thing all parenting has in common is it's gonna cost ya.

Both of my kids have gone to out-of-state colleges, one in Texas and one in Iowa. Don't ask. Anyway the one in Texas transferred back here after his freshman year, but he still has a little gift I gave him when he first moved out.

The emergency credit card. They both have one.

It's the peace of mind card, the one that let's them take a cab home when they find themselves outside a club in the senseless murder district at midnight. The one that says use me at urgent care to stop the bleeding, or get antibiotics for the sinus infection. It's the airline ticket if they have to come home in a hurry.

Yes it's the credit card I gave them to be used in emergencies, but I now realize the other thing I should've given them is a long lecture on exactly what constitutes an emergency.

Buying posters from artists you like, new shoes, that cute sweater—you know the one, sushi because it's the best sushi place in Iowa (how many can there be?) are all examples of non-emergencies.

Yet every once in awhile, I put on my little green visor, open up the inter webs and go through the "emergency" charges my darling offspring have made. And almost every time, one or two of them will spring out at me like a Jack In The Box, or a coiled rattler.

That sound you hear is my wallet screaming.

I don't want to make it seem like they're on wild spending sprees with my money. They're not. For the most part, they let me know when they're buying something on the card, or they ask if they can.

But as any parent will tell you, it doesn't matter how old your kids get—they're always testing you and seeing how far they can push it.

And sometimes that means re-zoning the borders of Emergencytown right up against Retailville.