On Personal Trainers

The year's most cruel, anticipated, and dreaded season is now in full swing: the fated time for beach-tripping. Many of us who feasted this winter are wishing we had started pumping iron six months ago so we could feel a bit more comfortable in this summer's swim wear. If only we could go back now...but since we cannot turn back the clock, we can certainly pay someone to tell us how to work out 24/7, right? Ummm. No.

Though exercise is a central part of a healthy lifestyle (along with diet), paying someone with a sculpted bod to tell you how to move your not-so-sculpted-self around enough to send their nonexistent children to Yale and back is just silly. Why do you need someone to watch you? If you've got any sense at all, you'll be self-conscious and will be made feeling incompetent by even the most sensitive and understanding trainer. Maybe it's just me, but with this ripped lady standing over my shoulder, I'd about wet myself with shame over my body fat percentage. A spotter is great, sure, but one you pay to stand there and make sure you don't strangle yourself on the bench press? Find a friend, already. Don't pay anyone to sit there and watch you sweat. You couldn't pay them enough.

If you're looking to lose some weight, tone up, or just maintain your already-rockin' self, a consultation with a personal trainer is a fabulous idea: get an idea of what kinds of work-outs you should be doing and find a gym (or the equipment) to do it yourself, on your own time. While the structured schedule of a daily or weekly appointment with a personal trainer can help you adhere to your goals (meaning that this person knows when you've quit and will call and guilt you out of bed and onto a treadmill), the self-motivation necessary to force yourself into exercising is a great skill to cultivate.

If you can convince yourself to go work out when your legs ached at work all day and your pecs tug when you lifted that gallon of milk this morning, think of the other temporary Hells you can now navigate, thanks to your newfound strength. Maybe, in a few months, after you've tried meditative breathing, you can calmly make a trip to the DMV or drive past a day care center without shuddering.

On Summer Homes

With the rise of North American temperatures so (seemingly) follows the budget of every above "financially average" family. I suppose if I blew my nose with $20 bills I would assume that a seasonal change necessitated and justified a hefty real estate investment, too.

However. This is not the case, and one shared house is more than plenty for anyone, excepting those who carry highly infectious diseases or produce reeking things from the kitchen (i.e; hand-dyed boiled socks or burnt anything). Wretched cooks and sicklings deserve solitude.

A beach or summer house is the enemy of an efficient (and savvy) spender. Why 300 square feet should ever cost more than a gallon of milk is beyond me. And it should be beyond you: an unsolvable mystery. An entire house devoted to relaxation, escaped responsibilities cough cough children cough cough and lazy afternoons drinking and baking in UV rays is ridiculously silly. Devote one room in your house to this and you've just saved a fortune. And don't worry about forcing little Denny out of the second bedroom to sleep on the kitchen floor (he'll only complain about those charming little mice anyway). I guarantee you've already got a room perfect for this: your bathroom. Sure, other people "need" to use it, but your sanity is at stake here. Don't risk it.

A sunny yet serene bathroom is best achieved in soft tones, forgiving lighting, liquor hidden in shampoo bottles, and cleanliness. Treat yourself every day instead of one week each July and you'll never have to worry about sand in the carpets or a drunk pool boy drowning the family dog ever again.

On Butlers

If you're like me (and I know I am), you've seen and read a few too many mysteries in your time. And you know that any wealthy family crisis can be traced back to a disgruntled butler or a raging recovering alcoholic who happens to nanny the children. One day, pilfering the silver candlesticks just isn't enough any more, and the next thing you know, you've got blood all over that nice Persian rug the French diplomat gave to the family 300 years ago. Family history and day ruined in one fell swoop.

Sure, there's the undeniable appeal of wait staff. Who really pours their own martinis these days? Cavemen, that's who. And no, that's not a pathetic Geico joke. Especially when you're commanding a sizable estate, servants, maids, cooks, and deliciously oiled pool boys can really enhance life. But when you've got so many strangers in your house on a regular basis, and you can't account for each of them at every second, you've got the makings of a disaster on your hands. The only trustworthy butler ever seen was...

Exactly. No such thing. And it is with these scientific facts that I urge you to refrain from employing more than one absolutely trustworthy person in your household. A great exercise to determine loyalty is demand that they endure physical pain on your behalf during the interview. If you're ever taken prisoner on account of your fortune, it would be comforting to at least know that your butler's fingers would be broken before your own.