Dear Dorothy — What If Your Spouse Wants a Different Vacation?

Dear Dorothy,

I recently retired from thirty years in corporate law, and my husband celebrated by buying us a pair of matching, high-tech hiking poles and a guidebook for the Appalachian Trail. I was thinking more along the lines of a linen wardrobe and a slow barge through Burgundy. How do I tell the man I love that I have absolutely no intention of sleeping in a tent or using a tree as a restroom at sixty-two? — Not a Happy Camper

My Dear Non-Camper,

Have you heard about the Great Divorce of Interests? It usually happens about six months after the final gold watch is presented, right around the time one partner realizes the other’s idea of "adventure" involves a CamelBak and blister cream.

I remember when a friend of mine faced a similar crossroads. She simply looked at the tent her husband had pitched in the living room, handed him a glass of Sancerre, and asked if he really thought her La Mer jars would survive a bear attack. There is a certain grace in admitting that while your hearts are joined, your holiday requirements are not.

You’ve spent three decades navigating complex litigation; I think you can manage a conversation about thread counts. You don't need his permission to prefer a view of a vineyard over a view of a mossy rock. If he wants to conquer a mountain, let him. You’ll be waiting at the boutique hotel at the base of the trail with a dry martini and a spa reservation he didn't know he wanted.

The door to the French countryside is wide open, and the barge is already stocked with triple-cream brie. Marriage is about compromise, but your retirement shouldn't feel like a three-year sentence in Boy Scout camp. Tell him he looks lovely in khaki, then Reserve Your Seat for something involving a real mattress.

Touch up your lipstick, Dorothy

P.S. If he insists on the tent, remind him that at our age, "roughing it" means the hotel doesn't have room service.