Monday, April 7, 2008

The Man Cave

Okay, March ended with less than total success but I will prevail. I'm going to roll the tail end of the basement into April and call it good. I did manage to conquer my media woes despite the fact that Real Player decided to take a dump toward the end of the music project and reset all the clip info back to its natural form. Fine, I set my 14 year old music junkie of a son to the task of fixing it before I took a hammer to the computer. It really was in his best interests to take care of it for me.
The big project for April is going to be to tackle the garage, the smaller project (and keeping with the theme) will be to totally clean the cars both inside and out. I know what you're thinking, the cars? that's a cop out. Obviously, you've never seen the collection of out and out crap in my car. I think because we spend so much time driving from one activity to the next that the car has truly become an extension of the house. We have water bottles, books, games, CD players, pillows and blankets in there all the time to stave off dehydration, illiteracy, boredom, silence and prepared, right?
The garage is generally off limits to girls, I know and accept this 99.9% of the time, but this is my .1% that I'm allowed access and I'm going to seize the opportunity. Considering my beloved's tendency to save, store and collect unbelievable amounts of nothing, I felt it was time for drastic action. Factor in the fact that the amount of crap stacked in the only area of the garage that I actually use, the time has come for me to step Once the area between the spot I park and the exit of the man cave became almost completely impassable, the 'no girls allowed' rule is moot. I sense I am going to be greeted with a fair amount of resistance from my beloved and my youngest son, but I should be able to get my eldest on my side...or at least keep him neutral. The garage is definitely NOT my domain and I'm perfectly comfortable with that. We have the local "Garage-Mahal" as the previous owner of our house seemed to spend a whole lot of his time there (perhaps this is one of the reasons they're not married anymore). The garage has two rooms, one for parking the two cars and the usual garage-y stuff and the other is the Man Room (yes, the capitalization is deliberate), complete with its own furnace, microwave, mini fridge, chest freezer and yes, cable television. Completing the decor is our old living room set (sofa, loveseat and coffee table) and both of my beloved's stuffed deer heads. This was the compromise as HE wanted to hang them in the living room, right above the fireplace. I simply had to disagree that they were a solid decorating choice. Plus they creep me out and he strenuously objected to my idea of dressing them to reflect the current season (Santa Hats, leis and sunglasses, maybe an Uncle Sam hat for Independence Day), he said that would be disrespectful. More so than cutting off their heads, stuffing them with something foreign and sticking them up on the wall, you mean? My beloved and his pals use our garage every fall for processing their deer meat while drinking beer and watching football. I think it's great and encourage this male bonding thing going on out there, I do not wish to participate in any way, shape or form. They NEED to remember this. My eldest son is definitely my child as the whole dead bodies hanging in row is the garage squicks him out just as much as it does me. My youngest, however, thinks this is the greatest time of the year. A couple of years ago, Andrew was asked to bring something out to the slaughterhouse, entered the garage, took one look around and said "Well, that's just disturbing." and fled for the house, not to be seen by the garage crew for the remainder of the weekend. Charlie, on the other hand, put on his nasty, grubby old jacket, snapped on a pair of kitchen gloves and plunged right into the process, not to be seen inside the house for hours at a time. The boy has eaten some unspeakable things out there, most of which I can't and won't even begin to describe here.
The garage has become too comfortable a place to stick stuff we don't know what else to do with, so it's time for another purge and I refuse to make this one another covert op, no way man. There's enough stuff in there to merit the idea of that spring/summer event I have scrupulously avoided in the past...the garage sale. I'm going to have to really mull this one over as I hate the whole idea of garage sales. Not going to them, not other people having them, just doing one myself. Going to have to revisit the idea once I know what's in there.

I think we spent too much time together this weekend and as a result, I find myself considering a few survival tips for the males of our species. First and foremost is this: If you live with a woman, married to her or not, replacing the toilet paper roll is NOT OPTIONAL. Trust me boys, this will actually save your life one day. Boys don't need it everytime they use the facilities, GIRLS DO. And if we have to sit and drip dry, our minds begin to work overtime and we actually begin to formulate nebulous plans to kill you in your sleep, knowing that a jury of our true peers will consider your death completely justified. Women are extremely at subtle and unexpected form of revenge, boys and you'd do well to remember this the next time you use the last of the roll. We wait, plan and bide our time until YOU'VE forgotten the offense and just when you think you're safe is our moment to strike. All you have to do is change the roll, or at the VERY least, put one on the back of the john, on the counter, simply somewhere less than arm's reach from the stool. Feel free to conduct an experiment or two and establish what exactly constitutes "arm's length" and that knowledge is crucial, necessary to preserve both you and the greater good.