Frontier Airlines, Xanax in Costa Rica &The George Santos Religious Institute

Welcome to my latest publication of Domestic Chaos Theory…

Frontier Airlines. My wife packs for vacations as if we’re never coming back. It’s like she’s loading a 150lb steamer trunk for a voyage on the Titanic. As such, the thought of squeezing everything she wants to bring for a simple weekend trip into a roller bag that must squeeze into Frontier Airline’s “no way your luggage will fit in this” box literally makes me break out in hives. We argued about it a bit. Then arrived at a fair solution. She’s just going to use half of the space in my bag as well. Crisis averted!

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Xanax in Costa Rica. We have a rule that we can’t spend more on our vacation than the rent we earn. (Well, actually, it’s really just my rule.) When we rented our house at the last minute this Thanksgiving, my wife and the boys defiantly declared that we’d be going to Hawaii. Shortly after I searched prices online and my head exploded, I suggested an alternative. Costa Rica. But here was the problem. For the price we could afford, we had to leave Monday morning and return on Friday evening. Challenging but not impossible. After all, the rainforests in Arenal, where we wanted to go, were a mere 80 miles from the airport. So, I booked the flights. Then I found out that the route to Arenal is a tortuous, sloppy and poorly maintained dirt road. (“Senor, you do not wish to drive this road. Be sensible, like your other countrymen, and fly up there.”) But did I listen? Of course not. How bad could it be? The answer? Pretty bad. The fact that the car insurance cost us more than the car rental should have been my first clue. On top of that, when we arrived the guy at the rental agency told me the bridge to Arenal was out. Is that even a thing? Apparently, it is. So, we had to take the back route, for which there was no actual map. Suffice it to say that thanks to our GPS (“Senor, be good to him, he will be your best friend”), WIFI (for the boys) and several Xanax (for Dana), we made it around midnight. It was a voyage that made even the scantily regulated Costa Rican ziplines look tame, but it was worth it.

The George Santos Religious Institute. This year I officiated my nephew’s wedding. It was pitched as an honor. I now suspect that the shrimp may have gone over budget, and they needed to cut costs. No matter. I enjoyed it. You might think that becoming a minister is difficult. It is not. As the salesman from the George Santos Religious Institute informed me, if you’ve watched more than three episodes of “The Love Boat”, you’re already overqualified.

MY WIFE’S POV

Two of these stories illustrate the most fundamental conflict in our relationship. Probably in any relationship. The money.

I’m the bad guy. The one who rejects every single spending proposal based on principle, before really ever taking a look. That’s because, in my experience, most of my family’s spending proposals are outrageous.

My wife is the hero. (At least, that’s how she sees herself.)

I kind of get it.

Had we gone to Hawaii for four days instead of Costa Rica, the journey would have been less stressful.

And had we flown on United, instead of Frontier, our carry-on bags wouldn’t have been an issue.

But where’s the challenge in that, I ask you?

FINAL THOUGHTS

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