My wife called this morning from Ashgabat, the world's strangest city, to say, "Hurry and get over here. I'm starving to death!"

A middle-aged man sidles up to me and orders an Appletini. He is wearing a black turtleneck, a dead giveaway, in retrospect.

Living in Paris with three kids and only one income, we burned through money like a chimp with a flamethrower.

This week I spent several days with good friends in Nashville, Tennessee. They're managing every day to raise an almost two-year-old, run...