The Problem with Happiness

Fortunately or unfortunately, depending upon your perspective, I have been very content lately. Fortunately because of course content is a preferable state to discontent. Unfortunately because some of my best writing comes from a deep spot of annoyance inside me, which I think is located approximately where my appendix used to be.

Today’s blog will be a simplistic exercise in nothingness, unless I become irritated in the next few minutes. First, I’d like to describe my recent trip to Scottsdale with Tom to celebrate my birthday.  In a word: it was perfect.

That’s three words. Oh well.

Not only did we get some very valuable time alone together, we also had the pleasure of golfing with his youngest son and having dinner with him that evening. The next day he brought his lovely young girlfriend to the pool and we all had a great time, even if they had to sit with us which I am sure was embarrassing.

Speaking of the pool, I took a fun photograph during an invasion of locals onto the resort grounds. It seems that the two women in the photograph below felt that they should be allowed to use the resort facilities, along with their 6 children, simply because they knew someone having a facial at the spa.

Ordinarily, I have to assume that if you are going to crash a resort and steal services in the form of using their pool, you would have the presence of mind to hunker down, mind your own business, and be quiet, as well as obeying the usual social norms of non-obnoxiousness that we all try to follow from time to time (with the exception of the Divorce Lawyer Who shall not be Named, of course).

Instead, this crew came in with their garbage bags filled with clothes, yelling at each other and the staff, and in a remarkable show of class changed the baby’s diaper and threw the dirty one on the ground. Lest you think I am making this up, please look at the photo closely. See?

After they screamed at the waiter because the hotel did not serve banana milkshakes (and neither of these “ladies” needed a milkshake of any variety, let me tell you), I couldn’t take it anymore. I carefully ambled over to the staff member who had been verbally assaulted, and asked if they were guests at the hotel. Apparently they were not, and she had already radioed her manager for help. That’s the guy you see in the picture, squatting down in front of the squatters and giving them the bad news that knowing someone in the spa did not a hotel guest make, and therefore, they needed to skedaddle.

As a lawyer, one of my favorite things is to listen to people of questionable intelligence announce that they are going to sue someone for making them mad. The blonde (er, sort of) woman in the chaise on the left was furious, and screaming that she was going to call her lawyer that day and “sue the fuck out of this dump!” It took quite a while for these charming ladies to locate their numerous offspring and depart, but in doing so I learned a lot about some people. For example, you are wrong if you think you have a legal right to trespass upon someone else’s property and sun yourself. In addition, telling a hotel employee that they are “worthless” and a “shitheel” is not likely to inure you to good service in the future, should you actually ever pony up the money to enjoy the place.

Below is a photo of the onsite gym, which was one of the best I had ever encountered at any resort.

We made it there every single day and pushed ourselves hard, which made me feel OK about ordering the Breakfast of Champions on my birthday.

There were some really interesting features at the hotel, one of my favorite of which was the Koi pond. At feeding time, these creatures would practically jump out of the water to take the food out of your hand. It was very cool. Also, they look delicious.

In addition, for some reason this sign gave me a good laugh.

It’s just rather graphic, don’t you think? Couldn’t you just say “no diving?” What’s with the illustration of what could happen if you don’t follow the initial instructions? When we see a stop sign on the street, that seems to suffice – there is no illustration of the gruesome scene that could ensue if you fail to stop and are t-boned by a blonde gas-guzzling SUV driver, who was probably putting on makeup at the time she was running late to do absolutely nothing.


Last but not least, I was horrified at the airport coming home to see these two gentlemen carrying around a box with what I’m sure we can all agree is a very divisive and emotion-invoking symbol: the swastika.

The larger man on the right is apparently is a Buddhist Monk (did you know they fly first class? This one did, anyway). I’m not sure what the other guy’s job description is but he was flying in what would be considered more traditional non-monk-like garb. As they wheeled the box through the airport, people turned and stared and I was pretty upset.

“Hey Tom,” I whispered, “What do you think about me going up to that guy and telling him my grandmother died at Auschwitz, and that I find his brandishing of the Nazi symbol horribly offensive?”

He just blinked at me and looked confused. “Why would you do that?”

“Don’t you ever want to stand up for something, and at the same time, pretend that you are totally someone else?” I asked, upset that he couldn’t understand my desire to misrepresent my heritage and begin an altercation with a religious figurehead at an airport.

“I stand up for things, but only when I’m being paid by my clients,” he laughed, and then added, “and why would I want to pretend I am anyone else? I am your husband – duh.”

Altogether now, awwwwww!

I kept my mouth shut and later found out that the original version of the swastika (the counter-clockwise version shown here) still has very deep positive meanings in many societies, including in the Buddhist religion. You’d think the fact the Nazis co-opted the swastika and (after turning it clockwise) made it into such a powerful symbol of hatred, death and injustice, it would be abandoned by others. Apparently not.

Thank you to everyone who wished me a happy birthday.  The rest of you can all go to hell.