It's Sunday morning in our flat in San Francisco's Marina district. The sun shines through the large bedroom window, waking me gently. I pad out to make us coffee as Julie awakens slowly. I return with two mugs and sit on the edge of the bed next to her. I know there's nothing on Julie's schedule for today, and I have deliberately kept my own agenda clear. "Get up," I say as the aroma of fresh coffee gently awakens her. "Let's drive down to Carmel for brunch." Carmel is a lovely city on the Pacific coast, about 100 miles south of San Francisco. It's full of rock formations and twisted cypress trees, lots of little shops full of homemade candles and crystals and tie-dye - and some of California's best restaurants. Our favorite is on a rocky bluff overlooking the ocean. The waves crash into the rocks below the outdoor deck where we have our brunch. It's a favorite destination. Julie kisses me with enthusiasm for the idea. It...