Couplehood by Paul Reiser Page B

the ocean.
    I keep trying this, but in the middle of breathing out, I always think, “Someone’s going to be breathing this
in.
These problems have to end up
somewhere.”
I envision some poor guy on the coast of Japan, trying to relax, and suddenly he’s got my problems. He doesn’t need that. He’s walking around going, “Gee, I got to send a note to Aunt Essie, thank her for the sweater—I don’t even know who she is.”
    And my next thought is, “Forget about that—what about
his
problems? I don’t want them washing back to
me.”
We could each potentially be walking around withproblems neither of us are prepared to handle. Suddenly this whole “breathing and relaxing” thing is not as simple as it’s cracked up to be.
    I t’s not easy to ever truly “get away from it all,” because like they say, “Wherever you go, there you are.” (Again, I couldn’t tell you who They are, but trust me—they said it.)
    I mean, I love going for walks in the mountains, but I always feel I kind of look wrong. Like people can tell I’m faking it. I’ve been hiking happily and had people stop me, presuming my car broke down.
    I’m not sure what the actual difference is between “hiking” and just “walking.” Is it speed? Intent? It may be related to the type of pants you’re wearing. Shorts that come close to the knees can turn “walking” into “hiking” like
that.
    Also to be considered is What You Look At. If you’re just going from Point A to Point B, it’s “walking,” but if you stop and point at a tree, it’s “hiking.” Even a simple “Oh, look—a bird” automatically makes you a “hiker.” So, if that’s not what you had in mind, for God’s sake be careful what you point at.
    O ur friends have this cabin on a lake, and they invited us up fishing.
    Now, having grown up in the city, I wasn’t a big “fishing” guy. Didn’t fish on any regular basis. You
can
fish in the city, but you catch things you’re not that happy to have—like a snow tire and a union organizer. Nothing that you would actually heat up with a touch of lemon and serve to company.
    So we’re fishing and my wife had a problem with killing the fish.
    I wasn’t crazy with that part either, but I figured, “If we just wait for them to die naturally, it could take forever. Certainly till after supper.”
    Most people like to distance themselves from the dirty work. Like a Mob hit. “Look, do what you gotta do. I don’t want to know, I don’t want to be involved.… I’ll eat the thing, I just don’t want my name coming up, understand?”
    To me, killing fish is not as cruel as the fact that we
tease
them first. We dangle worms and things they like, so they think they’re getting a snack, when in fact what they’re getting is death. It’s not honest.
    We advertise worms, then go, “You know what? We’re all out of worms. How would you like a big hook in your mouth instead?” The ultimate Bait and Switch.
    And fish, God bless them, are so dumb, they simply do not catch on. How many years have we been fishing? A zillion years? They haven’t figured it out? All it would take is one fish to see the worm and say, “Wait a second.…Worms don’t just dangle like that.… Something’s going on here.… HEY!”
    But they don’t. They line up. They see their friends getting yanked out of the water, and they don’t care. They’re cocky. “Don’t worry, Honey, that won’t happen to me. He didn’t know what he was doing, whereas—OWWWWW! … This one’s got a hook, too!”
    They don’t see that whole pattern. Worm/death. Worm/death.
I
would catch on. If I went to a restaurant, and every time I ordered fruit cup, somebody dropped an anvil on my head, I would begin to notice. “Hmm.… Fruit cup/death. Fruit cup/death. You know what? I’m gonna get the soup instead.”
    Fish—they’re in schools, but they’re just not learning.
    I tried to convince my wife that fish don’t
feel
the hook.
    She says,