Things are different on the Vineyard. Life is supposed to be easy on the island -- slow-paced and simple. That's what they say. What they fail to mention is that "simplify" in this context means, "do it yourself." David's parents have to put their trash in their car and drive it to the dump. Five of the seven towns on the island are "dry," so we must remember to bring our own bottles of beer and wine when dining out. Restaurants are few and far between, and none of them deliver; movie theaters do not have stadium seating or DLP projectors. There's no Whole Foods, no Trader Joe's, no Nordstrom's or Ann Taylor. No streetlights line the long, winding dirt roads. My cell phone gets no reception. Sure, the eggs are fresh, the water is clean, and the air is thick with oxygen; the neighbors are friendly, and people stop their cars to let you pull yours out into what traffic there is; but what if I have a middle-of-the-night craving for sushi? How did Jackie do it? Perhaps most distressing of all is the fact that if I needed to replenish my black liquid Lancome eyeliner or SPF 30 facial lotion, the nearest department store is a 20-minute drive, a 45-minute ferry ride, and at an 90-minute bus ride away. If that's not roughing it, I don't know what is.