Requiem for a Man-Cave Part 2

Where was I? Ah yes, Square One. Apparently the prospective room in my basement was ALSO vital to gardening. You know, I'm no expert...but I'm pretty sure this isn't all necessary just to have a garden. If fluorescent lamps were that vital, how were gardens created in THE MIDDLE AGES!?! Still, I found myself at another impasse. But, an light-bulb of inspiration came from the most unlikely of sources....my beloved.

Up until this point, I was pretty sure that she was anti-Man Cave, but then she said.... "You know, we're going to have a build an underground root cellar...we could just build it twice as big and make half of it a Man-Cave."

I nearly collapsed with Joy. Seriously? An man-cave that was an actual cave?

Was she suggesting I could have my own underground lair? A place that could not only serve as a venue for the viewing of violent sports, but also serve as a place of refuge if my quasi-paranoid friends are right about the impending Zombie Apocalypse/Coup d'etat? Immediately, I began planning my lair. And clearly, now that it was an option, I wanted something beyond a TV and a tribute to The Duke...But what else? A fully-stocked bar? A walk-in humidor....An Octagon for the settling of disputes?

But than I got to thinking, which is to say someone....a "friend" of mine...began using silly concepts like truth and logic to ruin my glee. Apparently, such an underground edifice would require a bathroom; because it were used for say, a Super Bowl party, then everyone would have to traverse the snow-covered muck that is my backyard to relieve themselves. Also, a heat-source of some kind would be required, and my initial idea of just burning wood wouldn't work...lest we all wore oxygen tanks.

So, it looks as though the Man-Cave will be added to a list of great ideas that never were....right along with injectable coffee and vitamin-infused donuts. If only someone would recognize my genuis.....

Requim for a Man-Cave- Part 1

Let's get something straight...



I live in my house, but it's not really MY house. I had very little to do with the colors on the walls, the styles of window treatments, or which bells and which whistles were added to the appliances. All of those calls were my wife's to make.



And really, I'm fine with that. And I suspect most hapless guys like me are.



But, and this is a big but....



I'm starting to get peeved about a part of the house that was supposed to be mine. Most notably at the fact that said part of the house DOESN'T YET EXIST!

The Man-Cave.

"The what?" You might ask

My Man-Cave. A sanctuary of my very own; Spartan yet oddly luxurious, tough but comfortable. All I want is a room, somewhere within walking distance of my house, with a couch, a TV, and a giant picture of John Wayne.

I don't think I'm being unreasonable, but it seems that forces are conspiring against me on my quest.

Background:

My wife and I own 5 acres of land, including a house and two barns. One of which is an old pig barn. When we bought the place, we both agreed that we could do pretty much whatever we wanted with it. I mean, 5 acres is a lot of land for a family of three, and so our imaginations ran wild.

Pretty quickly, I was informed(this is how things work) that the pig barn would be turned into a potting shed/chicken coup. Both a garden and chickens had been agreed upon before, but now the barn was essentially occupied, and I was beginning to wonder if I was getting fleeced.

So, in the interest of compromise, I looked elsewhere for a suitable dude-lair(Also, I usually lose arguments with my wife). The most logical place was our basement. As of now, our basement consists of three rooms, one of which would work wonderfully for my purposes.

"Nay," Said my wife. "That room's being used to grow stuff for the garden from seedlings."

"You have to do that?" I asked.

I have not words to describe the face that was my answer.

And I was back to square one....

The 5 Real Signs of Spring

Call me a cynic, or impatient, but I think that I've given up on Mother Nature's ever-shifting moods as an accurate predictor of the changing seasons.



Especially here in the Midwest, I feel that we're constantly being teased...It's cold, it snows, it warms up, the snow melts, then it rains, but the snow returns...It's gotten old for me.



So, I propose the following as true harbingers of the new season:



1)The Super Bowl- I realize it's in the dead of winter, but hear me out on this. Once the Super Bowl is over, it's officially the end of anything worth doing in winter. Winter, we can all agree, sucks after the big game is over. February is, paradoxically, the longest month of the year. There's nothing left to do except wait for the weather to warm up. So I guess The Super Bowl is the Fat Tuesday of the winter doldrums.



2)Pitchers and Catchers report- Even if you're not a sports fan like me, there's something reassuring about the fact that:

1. Somewhere, anywhere, is warm enough to host a baseball game


2. That those same baseball games will one day move to a city near you, and that Winter is going to end at some point.

I always think back to my youth and a ad campaign put out by the Chicago White Sox, picturing a baseball in a pile of snow which read "Think Spring."

3)March Madness- Firstly, basketball is a winter sport, so when it's over, it means that winter's over as well, at least as far as the omniscient NCAA is concerned (insert your own joke here). But what's also important is this: You've been sitting in front of the TV all winter long anyway, watching whatever is on because it's way too cold to go outside for anything. March Madness is more of the same; lots of sitting around watching TV. Only it's probably the best TV-watching there is...ever. So it gives your favorite activity a little shot-in-the-arm, a little spice if you will, to get you through.

4)Movie Trailers Get Louder- Summer(and late Spring anymore) means the movies start to get good, at least if you're into things going boom, formulaic plots, and protagonists with whom Carl Jung would have a field day(I happen to be into all of the aforementioned). Consequently, it's usually sometime in April when you get to see all the blessed carnage in morsel-sized trailers just before some forgettable flick.

5)Opening Day- I hate to stick with baseball, as I realize not everyone loves our national game as much as I do, but let's face it...Nothing means Spring the same as the beginning of baseball. Now, as a lifelong resident of the Upper Midwest, I realize that sometimes Opening Day is played in parkas and thermal underwear. Be that as it may, I still think that it's a more reliable indicator of a new season than anything the nerds at The Weather Channel have come up with.