Ever heard of a couch, jet-setting John?

The Boston Herald

I wasn't surprised when I read that John Kerry was taking a break this week from the hard job of campaigning (talking out of both sides of your mouth CAN be exhausting) and jetting off in his own private plane to his $ 4.9 million Idaho getaway to spend down time with his lovely wife, Teresa. I wasn't even shocked to learn that his very luxurious bungalow is just one of five palatial homes he and his wife own. Hey, it's all relative, if you know what I mean.

What did surprise me, however, is the way in which the junior senator from Massachusetts relaxes. "I need to recharge my batteries," he told reporters on board his plane Wednesday.

This is what I do to recharge my batteries: I sit on the couch and watch Oprah or Dr. Phil. Or maybe I'll watch "Judging Amy," if I'm not interested in what Oprah is talking about that day. I sit with the clicker and the phone beside me so I don't have to get up and go looking for it if it rings. And I drink tea (Constant Comment) and eat cookies - ginger snaps, any kind - or Brigham's chocolate-chip ice cream, if I have any. And let my mind dally over such weighty issues as what kind of people, in their right mind, would sign up to be a Dr. Phil family?

The man who wants to be president recharges in a totally different way. He bikes. He skies. He snowboards. "In Boston last weekend, he stopped by a sporting goods store to pick up tennis balls, running clothes and darts," the Herald reported. Which presumably means that he ALSO plays darts, tennis and runs.

Darts, I understand. You can play darts sitting down. But how, I wonder, are biking, skiing, snowboarding and running - sometimes after a little green ball and even worse, running just to run - relaxing?

My husband and I jetted off a few years ago in a not-so-private plane - but coach nearly empty that day - to a little bungalow - not ours, but ours for a few days - in Gatlinburg, Tenn., gateway to the Great Smoky Mountains. Our bungalow, well, cabin, (called Bear Watch) was high up in the mountains. When we arrived, it was rainy and foggy and we didn't see any bears. But standing on the porch after the rain stopped, we could almost touch the clouds.

In retrospect we should have gone biking. Or running. Or at least walking. Because clearly, we didn't relax. We lit a fire. And turned on TV. And watched "Double Indemnity," the black-and-white 1944 Barbara Stanwyck, Edward G. Robinson version. And fell asleep on the couch until 4 a.m. when we heard, and then saw, a huge brown bear in the moonlight trying to get the cover off the trash.

The man who would be president bought not only sports paraphernalia to help him recharge. He bought books, too. "Benjamin Franklin: An American Life" by Walter Isaacson; "Perfectly Legal" by David Cay Johnston; "The Fabric of the Cosmos: Space, Time and the Texture of Reality" by Brian Greene; and "One Hundred Years of Solitude" by Gabriel Garcia Marquez.

I am not kidding.

I know I brought books to the Smoky Mountains because I bring books everywhere, hardcover and heavy, but only in weight. But I don't always read the books I bring. I'm easily distracted. On a plane, I'll pick up a magazine or get absorbed in a conversation that the people next to or behind me are having. Then when I get where I'm going I'm too busy looking at where I am to read. Looking for bears, looking for birds, looking to see what other old movie might be on TV.

There was a diary of sorts at Bear Watch. I read that. It was full of comments by people who had stayed for a few days. It was also full of exclamation marks: We loved it! It's heaven! We can't wait to come back!! I wonder. Was it a jogging path they loved? Or a tennis court? Was it a book about time and reality? Or was it pure reality they saw as heaven, sitting on a porch listening to the tree frogs, not recharging, simply relaxing and watching the clouds roll by.