Lenny Kravitz has become my official spokesman for summer. Because each time I have the sweet pleasure of packing my bags for vacation, all I want to do is sing the chorus to “Fly Away.”

“I want to get away, I want to fly away…yeah, yeah, yeah.”

While it might be more exotic to actually fly somewhere new, in this economy I am grateful to just drive away… yeah, yeah, yeah. In my lucky case, this amounts to a four-hour trip to Lake Tahoe. And as I sit here savoring my sixth day with a view of a lake so big it would look like an ocean if not for the majestic mountains on the other side, the clusters of Aspen trees that shimmer in the breeze, and a sky three shades bluer than Celestial on the Crayola spectrum, I know I have the perfect backdrop for serenity.

I’ve discovered, however, that the stunning natural setting is responsible for only half of my insta-rejuvenation. In fact, as I savor my deck-side cocktail, I can’t help but feel a sudden wave of SAT prep overcome me. It occurs to me, you see, that the beautiful backdrop is to my sanity as the Sweet and Sour mixer is to my vacation margarita. After all, both the mixer and the setting can only be expected to take a girl half way to ahhhhhhh. Just as my marg needs a healthy shot of tequila to add some flavor while subtracting from my emotional edge, there’s a companion to a vacation setting that becomes the infusion of Patrón Silver, making the experience a Top Shelf one. That ingredient, my friends, is the hectic lifestyle we leave behind, if only for a long weekend.

I’m sure I don’t need to remind you that our modern-day pace is made up of responsibilities at work, as well as the slew of house-based tensions and projects that make it difficult to relax in our own home-sweet-home. In fact, it makes me giggle to think that our home could possibly be considered my husband’s castle. When he spends his weekends mowing the lawn, tackling the tufts of weeds, re-organizing the garage (again), and scrubbing down the royal swimming pool, I’m thinking he feels more like the groundskeeper than the king of this domain.

And I, the scullery maid who longs to feel more like a queen by walking away from the usual week’s worth of laundry to wash; perpetual meals to shop for, prepare and clean up; and shuttling the princesses throughout the kingdom, only seem to wind down from the day precisely one minute before I nod off to sleep.

So while the beauty of the backdrop can get 50% of the credit for helping us find our inner ohm, the other half requires the gathering of family or friends who have surrendered their to-do lists for a few days to focus on fun and togetherness. And when everyone hits that sweet rejuvenation zone, don’t be surprised if your inner soundtrack sounds a lot like Lenny.

Whether you fill the back of your car with a tent and sleeping bags or have booked first-class passage to a Four Seasons, I hope you can get away from your usual routine for a few days to find your own yeah, yeah, yeah.

“In summer, the song sings itself.” – William Carlos Williams

 Though the calendar won’t mark the official beginning of summer for a few more days, the glory season begins for most of us the minute the last school bell sounds for vacation.

Truth is, the school doesn’t even need to ring the final bell. The administrators could just listen, instead, for the collective sigh of parents, students and teachers alike, exhaling their need for a break from nine months of structure and one month of utter chaos.

After all, with every team, club and class celebrating its end-of-the-year everything, that school bell could be just as easily signaling the end to a boxing match, with some of us propped up against the ropes and others downright down for the count.

And once it’s over, our instinct – after humming the chorus of Alice Cooper’s “School’s out for Summer” with a sensible head banging gesture that won’t create neck issues in the morning – is to turn that sigh on mute and make it a yoga-worthy exhale.

At the risk of alienating many of you with structured jobs, goal one for me is to put the alarm clock in storage for eight weeks. Even though I don’t sleep more than an hour past the usual time, there is something about waking up naturally due to increased sunlight… instead of bolting upright after the audio equivalent of defibrillator paddles on a Code Blue.

And once I’m awake, there’s beauty in being able to eat when I’m actually hungry, and not because it’s an eat-now-or-forever-hold-your-pangs situation. In the evening, as well, it’s glorious to see a meal as more than feeding time at the zoo, with a slab of meat and a pocketful of grain thrown out between the monkey’s soccer practice and the donkey’s dance class.

In an ideal summer, many of these structure-free days are spent with a view of water, with either a placid lake, a backyard pool, or the rhythmic crashing of waves at the beach. When the view involves a cloudless sky and an eyeful of taut young skin, best appreciated by those who have lost theirs, it goes from good to great. If we throw in the scent of old-school Coppertone sunscreen and a carnivore’s delight barbeque of chicken, steak or burgers on the grill, we know why we packed a camera.

Simply put, summer brings us our best chance for serenity. William Carlos Williams was so very right about this being a season when a song sings itself—but I’ll bet he never envisioned the likes of Alice Cooper doing the heavy metal backup vocals.

We’ve all seen signs with bad grammar and punctuation that muddle the intended meaning of a message. My all-time favorite of such signs is the “Caution: Slow Kids,” the yellow sign frequently posted near school yards, parks and residential cul-de-sacs.

Call me Mensa worthy, but I suppose the intended message is that we should drive slowly for the sake of the kids. Instead, I always read this and think that if the kids are really so slow, we have a good chance of spotting them before we could possibly risk running them over.

This week, though, I spotted a sign that amused me for a much different reason. It’s a sign that says so much more about the messenger than it does about the message.

I'd say that the real message here reads:

“If you’d like to ruin your day by speaking to an honest-to-goodness curmudgeon who thinks that today’s youth is a collective group of cheats and liars, please call: 408-555-1212 or visit my website: www.stopthebratsnow.com.”

What does your word choice say to the world about the kind of person you are?

Perhaps it’s because of the current state of our economy, which is allowing me – and most everyone I know -- less discretionary income to express appreciation in the form of a tangible gift, but I have recently re-discovered the utter joy in giving a well-deployed compliment.

Don’t get me wrong-- I’ve always enjoyed the blush of pride I see in a person’s face when I remember to take a moment to say aloud something that crossed my mind as noteworthy or beyond, but I mark today as the day it will become something of a mission statement for me in my daily interactions with people.

I suppose this is particularly important to me right now because of the general sense of angst I’ve been experiencing lately over financial concerns that always leave me questioning how to balance my desire to contribute to our family’s income to alleviate some of that pressure from my husband’s shoulders while being present enough in my teen and pre-teen’s lives to keep them on the right track,  while still having enough energy to contribute to my local community so I can lay my head down at night knowing that I give back more than I take away.

When you put those kinds of stresses, which every parent can relate to, with the news of serious illness and untimely deaths of people you care about and the general dramas of doing the right thing even when it isn’t the easiest thing for you personally, well… Sigh.

I am fully aware, as I look into the faces of people I encounter as I go about my daily doings, that I am not at all alone in these pressures and woes.

But the good news is that I can do something about it. And you can, too.

When I see these weary faces, I aim to give them something to smile about. Whether it’s just a friendly hello with a direct look in the eye to acknowledge a familiar face, a door held open, or the noticing of a cute new top, it tends to elicit a smile.

The real magic, though, comes from sincere and specific acknowledgement of someone’s effort. “You’re the best!” might puff a person up for a moment, but when the praise is specific to an action taken, you run the delightful risk of puffing them up enough to levitate.

Just yesterday, I took five minutes to write the following in an email to a teacher at my daughters’ school:

“I’m really impressed with the caliber of your students’ presentations at today’s Academic Expedition, Mr. Mac. By having the kids not just write a report about a pre-selected amendment to the Constitution, but, instead, pick the one they most value and then re-state it in their own words and include graphics in a PowerPoint presentation, you really make sure these kids not only understand civics but also how it affects them personally. Your students shared their projects with obvious preparation and poise—they really stood out today.”

The funny thing is that by taking 5 minutes to write an email about something that had already crossed my mind, I not only erased five ounces of weary from a teacher’s hectic end to the school year, but his expressed gratitude over my gratitude gave the gift right back to me.

Who has done something in your presence today that could warrant some sincere and specific praise? The act itself can be small, but the reward for the recipient of your praise might be the highlight in their day.

Go out there and ease a burden—you’ll be so glad you did.

I’m hoping the graphic designers of the world will create a new kind of emoticon, because I’ve discovered that my fellow saps and I are most often moved to tears for reasons far removed from sadness.

I, for one, spring the biggest leaks whenever I witness greatness. Let’s face it—in this age of constant streaming information, we are desensitized to the noise around us. For something to stand out in all that input, it simply must be remarkable. And when that something doesn’t just hit our radar but sounds the alarms for us to take notice and, subsequently, action, well, this gal’s got to switch from Kleenex to Brawny, “the quicker picker-upper.”

For me, this reaction is always tied to watching a person realize a dream; show utter selflessness in supporting others who are in need; or display the kind of perseverance that makes up for the fact they may not actually be great but have such a hunger for realizing the dream that I will turn a blind eye or ear to their humanness.

So when my kids (and my dreams and aspirations) are tucked in for the night, I tune in to an hour of TV that will remind me that luck truly is the moment when opportunity meets preparation.

I see this in the lucky face of Adam Lambert on American Idol, who finally found the opportunity to display his years of preparation, and talent, on a platform that has changed his life forever. I see this in the face of Bernard LaChance, an average guy whose 13 years of perseverance got him five minutes of fame on the Oprah show, and a real chance to launch his life dream as a singer. I see this in the faces of the recipients of every Extreme Makeover, who are graced with breathtaking new homes as the ultimate display of karma for treating those most in need with grace, respect and caring.

Whether it stems from God-given talent, tenacity, or moral fiber, witnessing other people’s greatness fuels my own dreams, gives me hope, and, well, allows me to eat chips guilt-free to maintain healthy levels of sodium.

It makes me wonder what my face would look like as a familiar yellow emoticon ball, as I witnessed such greatness. My best guess is that it would somehow be simultaneously contorted and smiling, with a tear or twelve running down to smudge the font on your page. If the image looked too much like traditional hysteria, my daughters could testify that a thought bubble reading: “That’s so freaking awesome!” would be the obvious choice for text.