Vacations rule. I know this because I just spent two glorious weeks out of the office. But even the best vacations are filled with a regret or two. Mine took place last Monday night. The kids were asleep, worn out by a long day of trench-digging at the beach, so the wife and I settled in for a quiet evening at the rental house. While I am a certified TV addict, when I'm on vacation I pretty much go completely boob-tube-less. I had already made it 10 days without even turning on the set, but this addict can only hold out for so long, so I decided to check in on the cougars and kittens of Age of Love. For those not in the know, Age of Love is a dating show where tennis star Mark Philisomethingorother is trying to find his soul mate from a group containing both older and younger women. I thought it would be a nice lazy way to end a nice lazy day. Big mistake.
It all started innocently enough when my wife Christina looked at one of the ''cougars,'' Jayanna, and inquired, ''How old is she, 50?''
''No, she's only 39,'' I replied. ''And I think she actually looks pretty good.''
Big, big mistake. If guys know one thing, it is this: you never, ever compliment a woman on TV or in the movies while watching with your significant other. I was by no means salivating over this woman Jayanna, just commenting that she looked far from 50. Didn't matter. I was done for. I knew it, too. Immediately after the comment came out, images of Salma Hayek began dancing in my head. And, for once, not naked images either. You see, back in 1997, not long after Christina and I had started dating, a TNT movie version of The Hunchback came on. ''Oh, I think Salma Hayek is in this,'' I said. Talk of Hayek as the new hottest woman on the planet was just starting to bubble over everywhere but I had never actually laid eyes on the woman. I was curious about all the Hayek hype. Naturally, Christina was curious as to why I was curious about an actress she had never heard of in a made-for-basic-cable movie. ''What, is she supposed to be hot or something?'' she inquired.
''Well, she is hot,'' I replied, merely repeating what every horny male had led me to believe.
That innocent four-word comment has caused me more grief in the past 10 years than every other marital miscue since. First came the accusations that I was a skeezy horndog obsessed with clown boobs. Then came the inevitable ''Who's hotter, me or Salma?'' queries. Finally, we came to the incessant sarcastic apologies, things along the lines of ''Well, sorry I'm not Salma Hayek!'' and ''Sorry I don't have a EE-cup size like your girlfriend Salma Hayek!''
You think all this would have died down after a while, but you would be thinking wrong. Another round of Hayek harassment blew through recently when my college buddy Eric Mabius told me all about the love scenes he got to shoot with Salma in an elevator on Ugly Betty. I made the mistake of relaying the conversation to Christina (because that's just the type of open, honest guy I am!). Her reaction was somewhere between ''Whoa, bet you're jealous!'' and ''Did you warn Eric to get his hands off your girl?''
The point is, if I could just learn to keep my mouth shut, we'd both be better off. Yet instead of agreeing that Age of Love's Jayanna was a Cryptkeeper-esque hag, I had to go and defend the woman. As a result, Christina was convinced that I had a major league crush on her. She modified her sarcastic apologies a bit (''So sorry you can't be spending your beach vacation with Jayanna!'' ''Sorry I can't ride on a bicycle built for two, run, and then paddle out on a surfboard to a boat in a makeshift reality triathlon like your girlfriend Jayanna!'')
This time I didn't even attempt to counter the blows. I just absorbed them and tried a new strategy: I figured if I dissed and dismissed one of the other female contestants it would make Christina realize that I don't lust after every woman that pops up on my television screen. One of the ''kittens,'' Mary, had kinda been freaking me out with her huge forehead and super-frizzy hair, so I decided to use this to my advantage.
''That Mary is just plain weird looking,'' I said dismissively, expecting to win my way back into my wife's good graces by pointing out how much more attractive she was than some floozy on TV. Wrong.
''You are so mean,'' she replied.
''Mean? Soooooooo, you don't like it when I point out when a woman on TV is attractive, and you don't like it when I point out when a woman on TV is unattractive?''
''It's just mean to talk about her like that.''
''But if I said she was attractive then you'd say I was mean for pointing out hot women on TV.''
''No, if you'd rather be with Salma Hayek and that stupid 50-year-old, then be my guest.''
''She's 39!''
''See! Now you're defending her again!''
''I'm not defending her! That's how old she is! I'm just stating a fact.''
''Whatever.''
This went round and round until she said she couldn't watch this ''garbage'' anymore and excused herself from the viewing area. I could blame her, but you know what? I blame myself. I should know better than to comment on the looks of any female on television in front of my wife. Or my girlfriend...Salma Hayek.
OBSESSION OF THE WEEK
I was this close. This close to having my summer back. As previously mentioned, I generally don't turn on the TV during vacation, which means I did not watch the first four episodes of Big Brother. Not only that, but I had forgotten to set up a Season Pass on my TiVo so it did not even record them. This past Sunday night I looked at the clock and it read 8:28. Then it dawned on me — Big Brother was on. I had now missed four-and-a-half episodes. Should I even bother tuning in at this point? I had read some back and forth emails from coworkers talking about what a hateful group of housemates the contestants were this year. Maybe I would be better off without them. If I just wrote off the season, I would have more time with my family, more time for writing, and maybe even more time to catch up on some of those movies that have been collecting dust on my shelves. At 8:29, I made the decision to do it. I WAS A FREE MAN!!! No Chenbot for me this year! It was an exhilarating feeling. And it lasted about 60 seconds. At 8:30 I got an itchy remote trigger finger, and decided to just ''take a peek.'' The first thing I saw was an insanely attractive brunette named Jen (please don't let my wife be reading this), which was quickly followed by everyone talking about how much they all absolutely despised her. There was even some guy named Dick who got all up in Jen's face and repeatedly kept yelling ''Bitch!'' at her. Naturally, I was hooked. It's too bad really. I almost made it. Maybe next year.
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