Summer Holiday: Nostalgic Night In '88

Come along and unwind with all the decadence and thrills of the 1980s in this time travel sleep story.

You are listening to Summer Holiday,

A nostalgic night in 88.

Travel by convertible to a resort in the Poconos that features all the festive and fun amenities that cater to an era of luxury and whimsy.

Spend the afternoon strolling the mountainside property where adults can behave like kids again from lighthearted pastimes to leisurely lakeside lounging.

Come sunset,

Take a dip in your private heart-shaped pool and enjoy dinner al fresco beneath a canopy of conifers dripping in string lights as the soothing synth hits of the summer play softly over the lapping lake waves.

Soak in a champagne tower hot tub,

Peering out at the stars before falling asleep in your moonlit suite.

It's time to dream away.

Welcome to Michelle's Sanctuary.

I'm Michelle,

Your guide to soothing getaways in your imagination.

As you listen,

Think of me as a longtime friend and sidekick who always aims to bring you peace and remind you that you deserve rest.

Tonight we celebrate making it through another day,

With a special mental holiday to another time.

Nostalgia is the gift that elevates all the best moments of an era,

Filtering away the unsavory aspects.

We're going to enjoy a world of splendor,

An imaginative playground for blissful escapes.

My voice will only bring us to cozy destinations that unfold with the freedom of a dream.

Personalize this story to suit your needs right now,

Remembering that I am just here to offer suggestions.

This is your sleep story.

As an 80s child,

I was always enchanted by the Mount Airy Lodge commercials that ran all summer long on our old television console as I sat on the well-worn gold rug of a trailer in upstate New York.

For a five-year-old kid,

Those fuzzy ads offered the height of luxury.

And I imagined one day,

When I grew up,

That I would float in a Champagne Tower hot tub in a mauve suite,

Enjoying chocolate bonbons and fresh strawberries,

With my long hair elegantly piled on my head in a French twist.

The Poconos in the 80s carried an air of romance,

A heavenly escape where all worries dissolved,

And every need and desire could be tended to.

And tonight,

As we revisit this colorful era,

The story captures the very essence of the fun and luxury that 1988 so generously offered.

Before we begin,

We're going to set aside some time to enjoy a few relaxing breaths together,

And set the tone for the night ahead.

Release a sigh,

Making a soft sound as you exhale,

Then sip in the air slowly,

Imagining the clean,

Crisp scent of fresh mountain air,

And the subtle aroma of resort flowers filling your senses.

Your space transforms,

Taking on the plush qualities of a grand resort suite,

Where the evening breeze from the Poconos Mountains whispers through the open balcony doors.

Let out a long,

Gentle sigh,

Releasing any lingering thoughts from your day,

And appreciate the stillness of this moment,

And the quiet settling of your mind,

As you prepare for this well-earned vacation.

Continue to inhale,

Maybe yawn and sigh,

At the pace that feels good to you now,

As I count us down.

Each breath serves to add softness and ground you.

Next,

Inhale slowly and deeply through your nose,

Connecting with the refreshing scent of pine needles warmed by the sun,

And the fresh,

Clean aroma of a nearby lake,

Sensing the warmth in the air as a summer evening prepares to unfold.

Four,

A deep sense of gratitude washes over you,

Appreciating the opulent comfort of your Poconos suite,

Allowing your mind to quiet even further.

Three,

A wave of profound comfort and warmth spreads through you.

You feel utterly safe and nurtured in this luxurious mountain retreat.

The gentle bubbling of your private hot tub deepens your relaxation as you embrace fluidity.

Two,

Your muscles soften,

Your face relaxes,

And you find it effortless to surrender to the tempo of the 80s,

A time free of non-stop information and scrolling,

A time when it was easy to get lost in the present moment.

One,

All thoughts and concerns clear,

To create the space in your imagination,

To revel in the simple wonders of this iconic resort.

As you inhale,

Yawn and sigh one last time,

Ease your breath back to its natural rhythm as we venture to the Poconos in tonight's sleepy tale.

The sun is high and the sky is a brilliant crystal blue canvas,

Stretching endlessly above you,

Dotted with fluffy,

Slow-moving clouds that appear hand-painted.

The mountain air caresses your face and billows your attire as you cruise effortlessly through the winding roads of the Poconos.

You're in a shiny convertible in your favorite color,

Its polished chrome glinting under the afternoon light,

The top completely down,

Allowing the world to rush in around you.

Perhaps you are alone,

Taking this time to reconnect with yourself,

Or maybe a dear companion sits beside you,

Their intoxicating laughter a melody carried on the breeze.

Whether traveling solo or with the one soul you'd most love to experience this perfect Pocono summer with,

Your heart is alight and your mind is clear.

The open air invigorates you,

A balmy blend of a sun-warmed breeze carrying the unmistakable sweet scent of fresh pine,

A fragrance that instantly conjures the thoughts of summers and carefree days spent in a mountain town.

Along the shoulder of the road,

The grass is a vibrant verdant green,

And very lush,

Swaying gently as you pass,

As if waving you along.

In the cup holder,

A wax-coated paper cup with a lid,

Condensation forming tiny beads on its polka-dot surface,

Holds a carbonated beverage picked up from a gas station along the way.

You lift it,

The straw cool against your lips,

And sip the fizzy sweetness,

A delightful burst of flavor.

You turn up the radio,

A faint static weaving in and out of the latest George Michael hit Faith,

Its catchy guitar riff and smooth vocals,

A perfect soundtrack to this sun-drenched afternoon.

You smile,

Feeling the rhythm of the road and the music synchronize as you tap your fingers on the steering wheel to the beat.

As you round a final bend,

The landscape opens up,

Revealing a breathtaking valley,

And there nestled amidst verdant hills and the silhouette of evergreens,

Is the Mount Superior Lodge.

Its grand façade pays homage to classic Swiss chalets,

With steeply pitched roofs and decorative wooden balconies,

Yet it's clearly been updated,

Infused with modern touches that speak to a new era of luxury.

The Mount Superior Lodge was first founded in the 1890s,

At the height of Victorian-era travel.

Back then,

Long before the advent of air conditioning,

Urban dwellers flocked to these mountainside escapes,

Seeking a sanctuary from the sweltering city heat.

In the 1960s and 70s,

The resort took on a more rustic,

Laid-back feel,

Transforming into a kind of summer camp for adults,

Where guests spent their hours leisurely playing tennis on clay courts and canoeing serenely on the expansive lake.

But now,

In the vibrant year of 1988,

The space has been completely revamped,

Modernized with new three-story additions that seamlessly blend with the original architecture,

Creating a truly grand and inviting atmosphere.

The building is both a timepiece and a masterpiece of leisure,

With sprawling wings that embrace the landscaped grounds,

Punctuated by large inviting windows and wide sun-drenched balconies.

You remember hearing about their famous theme nights,

Which vary from lively tiki night extravaganzas to sophisticated A Night on the French Riviera soirees.

You guide the convertible up the winding drive,

Pulling smoothly under the grand porte cochere.

As you step out,

The valet,

Dressed in a crisp white uniform of shorts and a short-sleeved button-down,

Greets you with a warm smile.

You hand over the keys,

The soft click of the door closing behind you as you step into the resort's magnificent lobby.

The air inside is cool and carries the faint scent of various perfumes,

Mingling with a subtle,

Clean aroma,

As mountain air is pumped throughout the space.

Above you,

The ceiling gleams with gold-mirrored tiles,

Reflecting the light from oversized chandeliers that drip with crystal,

Casting a warm,

Inviting glow.

The floor is a mosaic of mauve-marbled tiles,

Polished to a high sheen,

Leading your eye to plush velvet sofas in shades of soft mint green,

Arranged in inviting conversation areas.

In one corner,

A gleaming white and gold grand piano stands proudly,

Its keys being finessed into a familiar melody by the talented house piano player.

You recognize the tune instantly,

It's Billy Joel's Uptown Girl.

It's sophisticated pop notes filling the expansive space.

You approach the long,

Polished check-in counter,

Where a friendly resort attendant with perfectly coiffed hair and a crisp uniform welcomes you.

The process is smooth and efficient.

The click of the keys from the large,

Beige keyboard of the computer terminal creates a comforting sound.

You receive a heavy,

Embossed keycard,

And notice the attendant's long press on pink nails.

The keycards are a nod to the resort's new 80s aesthetic and upgrades.

With your key in hand,

You make your way through the lobby.

The hallway stretches before you,

A tunnel of decadent 80s design.

The carpet is a plush,

Deep teal,

Patterned with abstract geometric shapes in rose and peach.

The wallpaper is a subtle,

Textured cream,

Adorned with delicate brass sconces that cast soft,

Ambient light.

Each sconce holds a frosted glass shade,

Giving off a diffused glow.

You follow the subtle signs to your suite.

And there,

At the end of the hall,

Stand two grand peach double doors.

You slide your keycard into the slot.

A soft click,

And the doors swing open,

Revealing a suite of refined elegance.

The ceilings are remarkably high,

Designed to accommodate the centerpiece of the room.

Your very own champagne tower hot tub,

Designed to resemble a coupe glass.

Thick rose pink drapes,

Heavy and luxurious,

Frame the expansive windows,

Hinting at the views beyond.

In the center of the room is an inviting,

King-sized circular bed,

Its velvet pink headboard a soft,

Inviting curve against the wood-paneled accent wall.

In the corner,

Glass tiles,

Subtly frosted,

Conceal the entrance to the bathroom and shower,

Hinting at the modern amenities within.

You walk to the windows,

Pulling back a corner of the heavy drapes,

To reveal a breathtaking view.

The crystal-clear lake shimmers in the distance,

Reflecting the afternoon sun.

And beyond it,

The majestic,

Distant mountains rise,

Their peaks softened by a gentle haze.

The balcony doors lead out to a private patio.

And there,

Just beyond,

Is your own in-ground heart-shaped swimming pool.

Its cool,

Aquamarine water is something you're intent on enjoying during your stay.

You sit down your small bag on a mirrored table,

Feeling a delightful lightness.

You unpack quickly,

Tucking away your clothes in the spacious ivory drawers of a plush faux-leather dresser.

Then you slip into your colorful swimsuit and high-waisted pleated shorts,

And slide your feet into comfortable flip-flops.

It's time to explore.

Stepping out onto the resort grounds,

The air is warm and alive with the sounds of summer fun.

Today's theme,

You realize,

Is summer camp,

And the property is buzzing with playful activity.

On a long,

Grassy slope,

Children and adults squeal with delight as they slide down a massive slip-and-slide,

Sending sprays of water high into the air that become prismatic as they land in the hopping and tumbling with joyful abandon.

You stroll past the main resort pools,

Where guests lounge on vibrant striped towels,

Their attire a perfect snapshot of 1988 summer fashion.

Neon-colored swim trunks,

High-waisted bikinis,

Oversized t-shirts tied at the waist,

And plenty of big,

Permed hair.

Tanned lifeguards,

Perched high on their chairs,

Survey the scene,

Their black ray-bands reflecting the bright sun.

You pass by several well-maintained badminton and tennis courts,

The rhythmic thwack of rackets hitting shuttlecocks and balls,

A steady beat in the background.

You come upon a particularly lively scene.

A dozen guests are assembled in a neat square on a patio,

Their faces a mix of concentration and pure joy.

A male choreographer,

Sporting a classic 80s mullet and a loose,

Geometrically-patterned blouse paired with crisp white shorts,

Stands at the front,

Demonstrating a sequence from Dirty Dancing.

It's been a year since the heartwarming cult-classic hit theaters,

But everyone,

It seems,

Still wants to recreate those iconic scenes,

Lifting imaginary babies and practicing their mambo steps with infectious enthusiasm.

You continue your walk,

Making your way towards the lake.

The water is calm and inviting,

With several red canoes and blue kayaks,

Gently bobbing near the shore,

Available for guests to use.

Along the lakeside,

Luxurious loungers are strategically placed.

Their vibrant,

Green,

Fern-patterned cushions look as though they were plucked straight from a golden girl's set.

You find an empty one,

Settling back into its plush comfort,

Feeling the soft sun on your skin.

Next to you,

A teenaged girl fiddles with her Walkman,

Flipping the cassette over and closing it with a click and pressing play as she gets lost in her music.

Almost immediately,

A resort attendant approaches,

A tray in hand.

He offers you a popular soda from the time,

Perhaps a chilled tab or a refreshing slice,

And a carved-out pineapple,

Its golden flesh layered with an array of tropical fruit,

Glistening maraschino cherries,

Jingling red cubes of jello,

And a generous dollop of Cool Whip.

He leaves it with you as a welcome gift.

You take a sip of the drink,

Then a bite of the sweet,

Cool fruit,

Its flavors bursting on your tongue.

A perfect summer indulgence.

As the sun begins its slow descent,

Painting the sky in hues of orange sherbet and cotton candy pink,

You decide to return to your suite.

The air is starting to cool,

A gentle mountain breeze rustling through the trees and grass.

When you return,

You take a refreshing dip in your private heart-shaped pool,

Forming waves in the lukewarm water.

As you take a few laps,

The sky above transforms,

Deepening into a rich gradient of purples and blues.

In the distance,

You can just make out the faint soothing synth melody of Roll With It by Steve Winwood,

Carried on the evening air.

All around the resort,

Outdoor string lights begin to flicker to life,

Casting a romantic glow as ignited torches add to the magical ambience.

After your swim,

You take a quick shower outside,

The lukewarm water rinsing away the last traces of chlorine.

You return indoors to change into a colorful,

Loose 80s resort ensemble.

Perhaps a flowing caftan in a bold floral print,

Or wide-legged linen pants paired with an oversized lightweight shirt.

Fabric that billows gently in the breeze as you move.

You style yourself exactly the way you would like to be seen in 1988.

Once done,

You make your way back to the lobby,

Where the evening buzz is beginning.

A resort host with a friendly smile guides you through one of the elegant restaurants,

Its interior softly lit to an outdoor table.

It's a magnificent setup.

A long,

Wide table,

Seemingly endless,

Designed to fit 40 guests,

Nestled between pine trees,

Where colorful plastic lanterns are strung,

Casting a festive rainbow glow.

As you settle into your seat,

Soft 80s ballads begin to play throughout the outdoor dining area,

Creating a romantic,

Nostalgic atmosphere.

You take in the scene around you.

The big hair,

Teased and voluminous.

The faint familiar smells of aquanet hairspray,

Mingling with the subtle scent of skin so soft.

A blend of baby powder and botanicals that everyone swears keeps the mosquitoes away.

Fireflies begin to flicker above the meticulously maintained gardens of mums and petunias.

Their tiny,

Neon green lights,

Dancing in the twilight.

Little do they know the inspiration they will have for the colors of this time.

Crickets chirp a steady rhythm,

And candles flicker softly on the table,

Their flames dancing in the gentle breeze.

You feel an incredible sense of communion with all these people at dinner.

There are no phones,

No digital distractions,

Just pure conversation and genuine laughter.

There's an ease to socializing here.

It's the most normal thing to do,

To simply connect and enjoy the moment.

People in this time seem to be far more aware of the things they share in common than the things that make them different.

The conversations flow freely,

Stories are shared,

And the air is filled with a lighthearted joy.

As dinner draws to a close,

You feel perfectly satiated,

A pleasant fullness settling over you.

You decide to take the long way back to your suite,

Enjoying a moonlit walk through the resort grounds.

You pass by an outdoor movie screen,

Where guests are snuggled on blankets and in lawn chairs,

Watching a classic summer film under the stars.

Further along,

You hear music and laughter from a dance floor set up beneath the open sky.

A live band is playing Hearts Alone,

The powerful vocals of the singer soaring through the night.

She's dressed in a striking black velvet dress with delicate lace gloves,

Her permed hair cascading down her back and framing a heart-shaped neckline that subtly echoes the resort's romantic theme.

When you arrive back at your suite,

You enter through the patio doors to find the room dimly lit and transformed.

The hotel staff has been here while you were at dinner,

The bed has been turned down,

And on your nightstand,

A small plate of fresh strawberries and rich chocolate bonbons awaits.

Beside them,

A handwritten note,

Elegant and inviting,

Reads,

Wishing you an epic stay at Mount Superior Lodge.

You prepare and then climb the few steps into the champagne tower hot tub,

Its warm bubbling waters inviting you in.

The mountain breeze flows gently through the open balcony doors,

A cool caress on your face as your body is submerged in the hot,

Soothing water.

You reach for a small metal box of matches,

Stored on a tray along the edge of the tub.

Draw one out and strike it.

The small flame illuminates your face for a moment before you carefully light the rose petal-shaped candles floating in inlaid compartments around the bath.

Their soft lights flicker,

Mirroring the distant stars outside on this perfect,

Cool mountain night.

A wave of pure luxury washes over you.

Your muscles,

Gently massaged by the jets,

Feel completely soothed,

Releasing any lingering tension.

Your lungs feel light,

Your chest unburdened by the weight of stress or worry.

The simplicity and carefree spirit of this era,

This perfect 1988 summer,

Sparks a quiet hope within you that one day,

The world may indeed be this fun and carefree again.

When the heat becomes too much,

You leave the hot tub,

The cool air a gentle contrast against your warm,

Glistening skin.

Wrapped in a towel,

You step into the ornate bathroom,

Its marble fixtures gleaming under the soft light.

A true testament to 80s opulence.

The shower is spacious,

And you rinse off with lukewarm water,

Feeling utterly refreshed.

You notice with a soft smile the colorful blue toilet paper,

A playful detail that perfectly captures the era's whimsical charm.

You towel off,

Feeling clean and light,

And change into your soft,

Comfortable pajamas.

A heady wave of tiredness,

A sweet,

Profound fatigue,

Guides you towards the circular bed.

You pull back the lightweight comforter in the cool silk ivory sheets,

Settling atop the supple fabric.

Your head sinks into three plush pillows that gently form around your head,

Cradling you in perfect comfort.

The spirit of the 80s,

Of carefree summers and luxurious indulgence,

Infuses you with a radiating sense of calm.

A wave of sleep tugs at you now,

Like an old,

Familiar friend,

Gently enticing you to cross the bridge to deep,

Peaceful slumber.

Finding happiness.

Finding leisure.

Finding comfort.

Finding peace.

It's time to dream away.

Good night.