Beach living has much to offer the married man. We take to it like Salalah turtles on a spring break.
That's what drew me to be among the very first residents of Dubai's Palm Shoreline nearly five years ago.
At the merest sign of a domestic squall brewing I could be out the front door, into my fishing kayak and paddling towards the comparative calm of the Strait of Hormuz.
There would be others out there too, bobbing on the mistress sea, some with token fishing rods holding, mostly unbaited, hooks.
At the weekend a great armada of henpecked shipping hazards would moor themselves off the island's crescent, nodding amiably to each other like passing joggers with a flagless semaphore all their own.
Over the years I've idled away countless hours in the waters off the Palm — waiting for that tug on the line that is the opiate of every angler.
I would return several hours later, hoping to appease my spouse with a romantic peace offering in the form of a still-twitching hammour.
Nakheel has developed a similarly smooth technique in its attempts to woo new homebuyers on the island. The developer has tried to start charging residents to access the beach, which has angered many Palm dwellers. Some of them got so angry last week they called the police when they were refused access to the water. It was the Palm Spring.
I was a bit ticked off myself, I can tell you, when I learned my spontaneous angling outings may become a thing of the past.
Now I've been told I should pay Dh100 (US$27) every time I want to escape the apartment and head for open sea during the ad break of American Idol.
Not only will this slow my average escape time considerably and require me to hold the correct cash at all times, my pursuing wife will also have to pay an additional Dh100.
I fear this could quickly create a financial strain on our relationship.
The timing of this access row could not be worse for the developer just as it begins marketing its first new development on the island in more than three years.
Most of us homeowners assumed that the shoreline was kind of included in a development called the Shoreline Apartments. But we were quickly told that we should read our contracts.
After doing so, I was dismayed to discover our sales agreement had been drafted by Rumpelstiltskin. I should have seen that one coming.
By alienating its existing investors with such fairytale decision-making, Nakheel may find it hard to attract new ones. The developer also risks devaluing the Palm's unique appeal.
There are many measures of the desirability of a property location. But the only one I trust is the vowel sound that people tend to make when they ask where you live. It's either an "ooh" location or its an "oh" location. The Palm has always been an "ooh" location. I used to live in the London borough of Hounslow, which is an "oh" location.
The Palm has beaches with glamorous multilingual folk parading up and down in designer swimwear.
Hounslow has hooded youths who say "you get me?"
The Palm has Ronda Locatelli and Nobu.
Hounslow has fried chicken takeaways, named after the US confederate states - and selling food dating from the same period in history.
The worst thing for both Nakheel and its homeowners would be for the Palm to turn from "ooh" to "oh" because of ill-thought-out decisions.
"If you build it, they will come," was long the catchphrase that summarised the developer's construction philosophy as it built one big project after another.
Potential property investors who have witnessed the Shoreline fiasco of recent weeks may have another: "Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me."
You get me?
