Couplehood by Paul Reiser Page A

and the “Bang.” Why? Because we care. We’re out there, making an effort.
    I’m simply saying, we’re potentially even worse than you think, so please, give us a little credit here.

Pain,
Humiliation,
and
the Great
Outdoors
    O ne of the reasons people get married is suntan lotion; you’re going to need help. There are parts of your back that you simply can’t get to by yourself, and quite frankly, no one is going to do it for you who
isn’t
married to you.
    My fear of getting burned goes back to being a kid, when you not only had the pain but the humiliation bonus the next day when you had to wear a T-shirt in the water. Nothing more embarrassing than that one. Just a big advertisement to the community that you have no common sense whatsoever.
“You
all put on lotion and didn’t get burned; I myself was careless and stupid, and I now wearthis Garment of Shame before the entire bathing population.”
    And you get the little air bubble under the T-shirt, which provided your friends something extra to pull, thereby adding another layer of pain on top of the humiliation. All in all, a pleasant outing.
    N owadays, people flee the sun. With all the technological and medical discoveries, we’ve been reduced to cavemen again. “Ugh, Big Round Thing in Sky—
BAD.”
    And there are so many choices in Suntanning maintenance. They’re numbered 1 to 125. Who knows
that specifically
how they want to be tanned? And unless you know your exact latitude, longitude, and the speed of the Earth’s orbit, you’re just winging it anyway. “Let me see, it’s very hot out, the winds are coming from the east, I’m originally from the Northwest … I’m going to go with Number 15. Yeah, 15 sounds good for me.”
    You just want to be better protected than the guy lying next to you. “What does he have—a 20? I’m going to get a 25.”
    It becomes a competition.
    “Oh yeah? I see your 25 and raise you a plastic nose guard and a PABA hat.”
    W e once went to a nude beach, the logic being: It’s 140 degrees, why not scorch
everything
?
    The thing about being naked in public is—there’s nothing you can think about except how naked you are. And how naked everybody else is. That’s all you see.
    You don’t think, “There’s a tall guy.” It’s, “There’s a
naked
guy.” You don’t say, “That woman looks like a lovely person.” You say, “There’s a
naked
lady.”
    And you think about your clothes. When you’re dressed, you never think about your clothes. You never walk down the street conscious of your clothes, thinking, “I love my pants. I’m happy to have my pants.” But when you’re naked, you can’t get past, “I have no pants. I’m walking, and I’m very much without trousers.” That’s all you think about: the absence of places to put your hands.
    Y ou know how when you’re in the water, you have very little body weight? This is another gift that nature provides to help keep men and women together. Men love it because with one hand you can lift the entire person you’re married to. And this works out for both of you, because in one shot, you feel strong and she feels thin. While she’s thinking, “I really
am
losing weight,” you’re busy thinking, “I am the Strongest Man in the World.”
    You have to appreciate these Little Things in life, because the Big Things may never get here, and then you’ve hung around for nothing.
    My personal favorite is when you go swimming, and two hours later, hot water leaks out of your ear. For no reason. Out of nowhere, you just get this little, warm release in your ear, and all of a sudden, you’re hearing better. You didn’t even know you were hearing badly. It’s just a bonus from God. You’re thinking, “Gee, I’m not complaining, it’s good, everything’s good,” and then all of a sudden, “Even better.” You gotta love that.
    B eing near water is supposed to be “calming”; apparently, you can “breathe” your problems out across