If it were left up to me, I wouldn’t go away in winter. Truth be told, I probably wouldn’t travel anywhere at any time. It’s not that I’m some sort of couch potato. I’d say I’m more like an armchair nectarine. I enjoy ripening by sitting, viewing, reading, listening, dining, socializing and stirring up those creative juices. To do any of this, I don’t have to travel very far. It’s probably why I like living on a small Island.

But I’m married, so it’s not up to me. I love being married, love my wife, and my wife loves to travel. Gadding about, she says, broadens your horizons. (Eating out, of course, broadens your waistline.) Now I don’t mind car trips, especially those of a five-hour duration or less. But those usually don’t bring you to the horizons my wife has in mind. Driving through winter in search of warmth, sunshine and a different culture is usually not feasible. Such pursuits involve the anxiety-provoking concept of air travel.

I’m old enough to recall the pleasure of air travel — when your gate wasn’t at the end of an overpriced shopping mall, when you were served with a smile, when you could get to your flight without undergoing the indignities of unpacking and undressing and when you had leg room and an actual meal in coach class, and neither came with extra charges.

Today those are all quaint historical footnotes. The whole experience is now designed to make me feel like something stuck on the bottom of a shoe that costs more than mine. The boarding process alone seems downright unconstitutional. Rather than logically (i.e. orderly) filling the plane from the back to the front, the airlines have instituted an unAmerican class system of status and zones. You are called to your seat in terms of worthiness. They go from Platinum Club membership down to Cubic Zirconia and I am still not on the plane. Sort of like the airport version of a washashore on a bad day.

Travel also involves choices, of which there are too many in this world. I hate dealing with where to stay, where to eat, what to see. To me, TripAdvisor is a scary labyrinth of contradictions. Like reading the opening of Dickens’s A Tale of Two Cities. “It was the best of times. It was the worst of times.” Make up your mind!

Of course, I’m also thrown by making decisions in supermarkets. I remember when a grocery item did not come with a chorus of variations. Like V-8 Juice. There’s Original V-8, but it’s now hidden among Spicy V-8, Lite V-8, Low-Sodium V-8, Lemony V-8, Gluten-Free V-8 and Fortified V-8. Wouldn’t that make it V-9?

I have a great appreciation for decisions that are made for me. Taking responsibility is not my idea of going on vacation. Oh sure, we travel for our radio show, Says You, but the producer is in charge of decisions. When I’m not responsible, I’ve noticed that I tend to relax more quickly. In fact, I fall asleep on planes as they taxi onto the runway. Hey, I’m not the pilot.

So this winter I will be leaving my Island. My wife has booked us on a brief excursion into Florida where we can cruise both its coasts by rental car and see friends we haven’t seen in awhile. I think the term is sponging. But we decided to do this in March, allowing us some time here with whatever winter throws our way. Our choice of timing is based on last winter when we went away for most of February only to return to our beloved Island and freeze for the next two months.

But most of the time, here’s the way I see it. Many people crave time on an island. I’m already on one. So what if it’s not warm and sunny at the moment. Those days will come soon enough. Surround yourself in winter with warm and sunny thoughts. Find a good book, a play or movie or concert. Find yourself a companion with whom to chat about life. Find a good walk through a spectacle of scenery or nostalgia. In short, find yourself.

Not to get out of line (doesn’t that require traveling?) and dispute John Donne, but as far as I’m concerned every man is an island.

Arnie Reisman and his wife, Paula Lyons, regularly appear on the weekly NPR comedy quiz show, Says You! He also writes for the Huffington Post.