It's Move-In Day!

For as long as I can remember, I’ve always had a man-cave. It has been in various places, in different houses we have lived over the years. The last one was in a spare room in our current home. I came home one day about eight or nine years ago, and it was gone, transformed into a room for a kid who showed up to join our growing family. I did not mind. Besides, I was now a trucker instead of my previous life as a sales-rep, and I wasn’t home much. However, somewhere along the way, I took to writing, followed by photography. I bought a desk. I had nowhere to put it except for in our bedroom. That is okay, but sometimes I like to get up early when it’s still dark and write fast and furious, or stay up too late drinking beer while editing pictures and listening to music. Poor me, I am a dude with no man-cave.

As time went on, it began to bother me. My writing slowed. I still did it if something was bothering me enough. For the most part, I lost interest because of my surroundings. Trust me, it’s not an excuse. I have to feel comfortable to write. Okay, maybe it is an excuse, but I will never admit to it.

     

As I began to get the hang of photography, a new passion was demanding to be explored:  A yearning to make my own frames, using my prints. I would have to learn stuff, which is a bummer because I’m really old, but where would I do such a thing? Cover our king-sized bed with a sheet and hope I don’t accidentally ruin something?

     

 Luck came, a few weeks back. Our basement floor, which had previously been dirt for its entire existence, had been transformed into concrete. It was already surrounded by fairly characteristic stone walls. The ceilings aren’t very high, but neither am I. The space spoke to me. Later, I spoke with my wife. “I want those walls painted, with Dry-lock. Get me area rugs. Retrieve some burlap of a proper color and hang it from the ceiling. Bring my drafting table down from the attic, so I can have a workspace to build my own picture frames. (I’ve had that thing since I was 16 and prematurely planned to take over the world.) I want two airplane pictures taken off of my son's walls, and hung on either side of the propeller my friend Chad gave me. I want a Bose Wave Radio for my birthday (which is rapidly approaching) so I can jam out whenever I get the urge. And you are going to have to TV shop for me- I want a big LED HDTV to hang on the wall. While we’re at it, call Comcast and tell them to send us another cable box. If I cannot receive the History Channel, the thing is useless technology taking up valuable wall space.”

     

My wife, being the good woman she is, immediately went to work. The walls were painted. Carpet was installed. The burlap is on order. It should be installed next weekend. There is no word on the Wave Radio, and I am betting the HDTV is probably out of the question which is why you should send donations to the television fund as soon as you can. (Thank-you.) Today is move-in day.  Just look at it. I have a man cave again, and it is perfect. It mirrors me very well: Rough around the edges, full of character and still half-decent looking. I am very happy and cannot wait to put it to good use. I would like to thank my wife for all of her hard work. I would also like to remind her that since she has a vagina, from this day forward she is only welcome in my man-cave in order to tidy it up, my “No chicks allowed” policy is now in effect. I am kidding of course. Someone has to bring me beer and snacks until I get my fridge installed. (I may need a bed installed for all these wisecracks. In all seriousness, I owe many thanks to my wife for creating such a wonderful room that I can call my own. I like it very much.)