MAN CAVE
Most guys have a Man
Cave or a place with that name.
A place they can go
for their emotions to tame.
To some it is just a
closed door, and to some it is a sign
That says “do not
enter”, which seems so benign.
Some caves say No
Trespassing, or Private or just Keep Out,
What happens in
here, stays here, “You Shout.”
Young males love a
Man Cave, or so it seems,
But Mom comes in and
makes a mess as she cleans.
As Males get older
their caves seem to evolve
Into a place you can
go to read or write or a mystery solve.
It could be a garage
or a spare room or a place just for you.
A place to “hang
out” and to do just what you want to do.
In a garage you may
turn some bolts on an old V-8,
But some people won’t
do that because the grease they hate.
The Man Cave could
be full of fitness gear, for those not to old.
I wouldn’t know but
that’s what I have been told.
Most Man Caves
gather collections of “Things” as they grow
Things that in the
garbage, you don’t want to throw.
They are a sanctuary
of sorts for a male to hang out
With electronics and
paper and stuff scattered about.
In my case if I
cannot sleep at night, I toss and turn, and give up the fight.
I crawl out of bed,
sneak down the hall, shut the door and turn on the light
In my Man Cave
sanctuary, for a few hours or ALL NIGHT.
I wonder what others
would think, as I sat in my “unders” would it be a sight?
There is saying now
days, “I just want to do my thing.”
Until the cell phone
disturbs me with its “bling, bling.”
Then my feet seem to
say, “Do we have to stay cold?”
So I turn up the
space heater to 80, why not be bold?
My electronics are
now ready as I gaze everywhere.
The red lights are
blinking, the orange ones just “stare.”
The screen savers
keep staring at me, and they seem to say,
Are you going to use
us or are you just here to play?
My wife used to tell
me, “this place is a disgusting mess.”
“If you don’t take
anyone in there, it will be OK I guess”
She seemed to forget
she had a craft room you see,
And it was known as “The Junk Room” to the
family and me.
I sit in my Man Cave and look out the window
to see
The snow is falling and the wind is blowing
the leaves from the tree.
I am comfy and warm and my space heater doth
glow
And if the blinds were pulled I would not
know about the snow.
I do lots of different things in this Man
Cave of mine.
What I do is constructive, at least most of
the time.
I keep track of my blogs, and my Android
keeps beeping,
But most of the time I search for the dead,
for my record keeping.
Genealogy is addicting, as I seek out the
names to my record I post.
Of the things I do in my Man Cave I cherish
genealogy the most.
In the middle of the night or mid-day they
call
Come on and find us, please come and find us
all.
MY Man Cave was not planned, it seemed just
to evolve,
And I spend most of my days there trying
mysteries to solve
About dead people, and places and feelings
that abound,
Of friends, family, and feelings all around.
W.R. Baldwin 25 Nov 2014
