Skip to main content

The marital perils of travel

A rare, stress-free moment at the Nice train station.
My column today only hints at what went on behind the scenes, relationship-wise, on our trip to Italy. Suffice it to say, it isn't just the 9-hour flight that makes us want to wait another 2 or 3 years before trying the whole Europe thing again.

Comments

Rex looks pretty happy in this photo. What drugs is he on? Today's column is hilarious, astute and dead-on. Traveling is hazardous to a marriage, unless you take separate vacations.
Cathy Hamilton said…
Wine. Wine for lunch. Wine for dinner. Wine every hour of the day and night. It's what kept him from killing me. I truly believe this.
Kim from Nebraska said…
Love this. My folks divorced after 42 years but not due to travel issues. But that's another story. I hate traveling and only very grudgingly go with my spouse because he insists. He is 10 years older than I and I am constantly encouraging him to travel NOW, alone or with our dogs, because by the time I retire in 10 years he probably won't be able to travel and I don't want to, and won't be able to afford it then anyway. Go, hubs, go!
Cathy Hamilton said…
Kim, there was a moment when I saw my future flash in front of me and thought, 'Whoa. All that traveling I thought we'd do when we retire in ten years? Now, not so much.' On the other hand, the cruise was effortless and harmonious (albeit expensive, if we would have had to foot the bill ourselves). Maybe that's the reason cruises skew older - those couples aren't up to fighting, anymore

Popular posts from this blog

I'll be back after these messages

Boy, I thought I'd never see the old blog again after the whirlwind of life I've had - and am still having - this fall.  Thanks for not giving up on me.
First, the wedding in late October came off with only one hitch. (Don't get me started on over-extended wedding planners.) I ended up cobbling an outfit together from Chico's in taupe (my spin on the mother-of-the-groom mandate: Wear beige and keep your mouth shut), threw on a bunch of pearls and an autumnal pashmina, and did my own hair. Boom! Done. The beautiful Sunday evening wedding in the country culminated a week-long string of activities I have come to call Burning Man East due to the predominance of bonfires at various celebrations. Big fun, big exhaustion.
Three days after the newlyweds returned to Brooklyn, my son summoned the hubs to Game 5 of the World Series in Queens (in which the home team was playing the Mets.) The kid flew his old man to NYC,  bought tickets for themselves and two others, and put him u…

Sabi: Helping your medicine cabinet look hip

I've always said that the companies who figure out how to make aging cool will win baby boomers' hearts in the end (or, better yet, a decade or two before the end.) The stakes are high. There are 78 million of us and gazillions of dollars to be made on our inevitable decline. Enter Sabi. With a mission "....to create products that are intuitively and beautifully designed in order to infuse life’s daily rituals with delight," Sabi boasts that their products "marry superb functionality, simplicity, and aesthetics to make the most mundane to-dos – from taking your daily vitamins to taking out the trash – more enjoyable." I received this bevy of review samples in the mail yesterday: pill folio (aka: 'pill organizer'), dispenser, chopper, crusher and holster. I have to admit, I like the look - sleek, simple and utilitarian....although two of my friends have said they'd need 3 pill folios to hold all their supplements. (Sigh.) Still, I give it two…

Gray hair: A luxury anyone can afford.

I got one of those back-handed compliments on my gray hair from a stranger today: "I wish I could do it. But, I'm afraid of looking old....oh, gawd....but YOURS looks great... really!!" 
    No harm, no foul. It's happened before.
    Charla Krupp, author of "How Not to Look Old," once said, "it's such a luxury to be able to go gray. Because it is an aging look, and it means that you don't care about people knowing your age." 
    She was probably right. Thankfully, I've never been shy about stating my age - it's 56, for the record - or asking others their number, especially when playing 'Who do you know?' The gentler, albeit sneakier, way is asking the year they graduated high school, but sometimes I forget and just blurt it out, often taking people aback.
      But, does it bother me? The looking older part, I mean?
      No. But, admittedly, I'm married. I'm not in the meat market, the job market, or any othe…