The business traveller should bring
only what fits in a carryon bag.
Checking your luggage
is asking for trouble.
Add several travel-size packets
of detergent...
...so you won't fall into the hands
of unfamiliar laundries.
There are very few necessities
in this world...
...which do not come
in travel-size packets.
One suit is plenty...
...if you take along travel-size packets
of spot remover.
The suit should be medium gray.
Gray not only hides the dirt
but is handy for sudden funerals.
Always bring a book
as protection against strangers.
Magazines don't last...
...and newspapers from elsewhere
remind you you don't belong.
But don't take more than one book.
It is a common mistake to overestimate
one's potential free time...
...and consequently over-pack.
In travel, as in most of life,
less is invariably more.
And most importantly, never take
along anything on your journey...
...so valuable or dear...
...that its loss would devastate you.
- Sir, would you like a snack?
- Just some peanuts.
I'm sorry I'm so fat.
Name's Lucas Loomis.
Macon Leary.
You a Baltimore man?
- Yes.
- Me too.
Greatest city on the Earth.
One of these seats
is not really enough for me.
The stupid thing is,
I travel for a living.
I demonstrate software
to computer stores.
What do you do, Mr. Leary?
I write travel guidebooks.
Is that so? What kind?
Well, guides for businessmen...
...people just like you, I guess.
Accidental Tourist.
- Why, yes.
- Really? Am I right?
Well, what do you know?
Look at this:
Gray suit. Just what you recommend.
Appropriate for all occasions.
See my luggage?
Carryon. Change of underwear,
clean shirt, packet of detergent powder.
- Oh, good.
- You're my hero.
You've improved my trips 100 percent.
I tell my wife, Going with the Accidental
Tourist is like going in a cocoon.
Well, this is very nice to hear.
Times I've flown clear to Oregon
and hardly knew I left Baltimore.
Excellent.
I see you have your book
for protection there.
Didn't work with me, though, did it?
Edward, how you doing, boy?
- Hello, Sarah.
- Hello, Macon.
- You made good time from the airport.
- We landed early...
...even with the storm.
- I made you some tea.
- Well, that's very nice of you, Sarah.
So how was Atlanta?
About the same.
Peachtree Road, Peachtree Centre,
Peachtree Fire Hydrant.
Come on. Come on, Edward.
Hello, Edward.
He's a boy.
How's your ears?
Okay.
I think he still expects Ethan
to come home, even after a year.
Macon?
Macon.
You know I love you.
But I can't live with you anymore.
What?
What did you say?
I want a divorce, Macon.
I rented an apartment downtown.
Honey, listen, it's been a hard year.
We've had a hard time.
People who lose a child
often feeI this way.
It puts a terrible strain
on a marriage...
...but it doesn't have to tear us apart.
Listen, I've been thinking...
...have you considered
having another baby?
- Oh, Macon.
- I know we can't replace Ethan, but-
No, I'm sorry. It would never work.
All right, forget that.
It was a crazy idea, right?
Crazy notion, but...
AII I'm saying is, we can start over.
Macon, ever since Ethan died, I've had
to admit that people are basically bad.
EviI, Macon.
They're so eviI they'd take
our 12-year-old boy...
...and shoot him through the skull
for no reason.
There have been times
I haven't been sure I-
Haven't been sure I could live
in this kind of world anymore.
It's true what you say
about human beings.
I'm not trying to argue.
Tell me, Sarah, why would
that cause you to leave me?
Because I knew you wouldn't
try and argue.
You believed all along they were eviI.
This whole past year I've felt myself
withdrawing from people...
...just like you do, Macon.
I've felt myself becoming a Leary.
Well, there are worse disasters