Free The Suburban You by Mark Falanga

do, making a living to pay the mortgage on his overpriced home and to allow his wife the freedom to stay at home with the kids and do things like take golf lessons during the day.
    Christine's golf teacher, François, is French. At age eighteen, he is still a boy in many respects, and he still lives at home with his parents. François forked over an extra $15 to get custom license plates that read GOLFPRO , which is how François likes to think of himself.
    While Christine is taking golf lessons from François with her three friends, she starts liking the part of the lesson where François would reach around her from behind to adjust her grip on the shaft of her driver. Before long, Christine would feel a little moisture between her legs when François came to this part of the lesson. François, noticing a more relaxed expression on Christine when he reached around her, would spend a little more time with her to offer some additional instruction on how firm her grip should be and exactly where her hands should be placed on the shaft of the club to maximize the power in her stroke. François, a very diligent instructor, would make sure Christine started out with the proper grip, which required frequent adjustment throughout the lesson.
    Christine's fellow students started noticing the extra attention that Christine was getting, and enjoying, from François. Before long, Christine's friends booked François for a different time, leaving Christine to go one on one with François, which, as you have heard, they did frequently. Pretty soon, Christine's neighbors began to notice a car parked outside Christine's house at various times, but always after the kids went to school and before they returned home, with license plates that read GOLFPRO . Suspicions were raised, because many people—particularly women—take golf lessons from François and know his famous plates. There was much talk among people in your suburb about this marked car outside Christine's house. Your neighbors had heard the stories that were circulating and started to put one and one together.
    One day, Christine's son came home from first grade and asked his mother why his friends were telling him that his mommy had a boyfriend who played golf. François even showed up at a holiday party that Christine and her husband, Bob, threw at their house. You heard, from those who were in attendance, that Christine paid an inordinate amount of attention to François that night, making many of her guests uncomfortable. Most left early, out of respect for Bob, because they did not want Bob to think that they were condoning Christine's behavior.
    This story has no good ending for anyone.
    Watch Your Neighbors Move
    You live in an upwardly mobile suburb. You can say this because there is evidence all around you. You witness your neighbors buy one house, then trade up to another house just a few blocks away. You observe this house-flipping and you hear about it occasionally because it is the talk at the cocktail parties that you go to. You think that this activity of frequent house-flipping may be disruptive to a family, and these frequent conversations do not really draw you in.
    One day, however, you meet a genuine house-flipper who could write a book on the topic. You meet people who, while it does not appear to be their mission, have sort of assumed house-flipping as a lifestyle. It is not what you would call an intentional activity for these people, more an involuntary activity, where you move and, just as you are settled, you move again. Like other involuntary activities, if you don't move you will be uncomfortable, and when you move you are not so aware of what you are doing.
    Like most of the people you have met, you meet the movers through your wife. Your wife becomes friends with your kid's buddy Paul Schiller's mom. And, because your kid's friend's mom has become your wife's friend, then you, being at the tail end of this food