For the first time since I went to Arizona in 1987 – I packed my bags, left my life at home and headed on vacation. But this time, instead of heading west – I headed South – and this time, instead of having a companion – I took a vacation all by myself.

For the first time in my life, just me, my CDs, my cigars and my laptop headed down I-95 toward Florida. Considering that it has been thirteen years since the last time I was over a thousand miles away from my daily existence, the anticipation for this much needed holiday was insurmountable. Basically, if I didn’t go on vacation soon – I was going to burst. So when I heard that Sandy’s parents usually flat bed their car down to Florida because they live there in the winter – I offered to do it for just gas and toll money and a plane ticket back. It’s a sweet deal for both of us – they save five hundred bucks – and I save a nervous breakdown.

When I got in the car this morning and began my trek to the Sunshine State, it was hard to grasp the feeling that I would be by myself for five days and no one would have the ability to contact me. It has been so long since I have been free of society’s grasp that I felt naked as I drove through the Northeast toward Florida. But as I got further away from New York – my worries, obligations, duties and concerns grew farther and farther away from me.

Since I do not have to get to Florida until Wednesday night, I decided to make my first stop on this much needed vacation in Selma, North Carolina. For one thing, J&R Cigars has their main outlet here – and since I love cigars so much that my humidor was my co-pilot – what better place to spend the night? So I booked a room at the neighboring Regency Inn after heading to the Madison Square Garden of cigars to buy a few more stogies for my already overstuffed cedar cigar box.

So here I am. Five hundred and sixteen miles from my front door and a million miles from where I would normally be on a typical Monday. Instead of just getting home from work and having to do my normal duties as a TV host, Press Secretary and anything else that normally calls for my attention – I am sitting in a hotel room smoking a Flor de Farach Robusto while drinking an Icehouse having nothing at all to do but enjoy this time away from everyone and everything. And the best part is – I still have four more days to do exactly what it is I am doing now – absolutely nothing.

Now I know why they call it a vacation.