Five rules of the Mancave

By Jason Tudor

Under the tundra, tucked past the laundry room, or stashed in the same room where the ironing board, sewing goodies and boxes of shopworn clothing awaiting transport to a charitable bin is the one room of the house men find solace.

It’s a Fortress of Solitude; a guy-made panic room and beige-walled Tardis sometimes blaring heavy metal or Waylon Jennings ditties. And whether that room is garage, third bedroom, basement or carved out attic space, the man caves across American are sacred spaces.

At my house, my daughter occupies three rooms, including two bedrooms, three beds (she digs the air mattress) and a playroom. She’s like a Trump heiress counting properties along her Atlantic City boardwalk. Meanwhile, the rest of the house belongs to my wife, save the one room, which I’ve captured for you here:

You will note that my mancave is actually a mankitchencave.
The irony is not lost on the author, but I’ve got my own fridge.

All that said, for many men, a man cave of some sort is a must, like a favorite worn shirt or that THING. And since the Ermas are hip-deep in lists, what better way to roll into February and all its amorous then to cover five rules about man caves (the other 13 are classified ‘top secret’):

1. Let him decorate it. Really. Dallas Cowboys jerseys, Night Ranger posters, “Big Bang Theory” ironic tchotchkes. Old beer mugs. He’s taken time to dampen the ground around this spot with his feral spray. Barring bikini-clad pinups, ensure he has full reign to throw up (and that’s probably an apt term for what will serve as décor) whatever he wants.

2. Don’t touch anything. Piles of automotive magazines. Tools tossed into greasy piles making a metal miasma. Stacks of CDs. All of it may look like a hurricane hit it, but there is a sophisticated, meticulous organizational system at work here. Anyone having the impetus to “do him a favor” and “clean up this mess” would only be obliterating weeks of laborious, detailed organization. Besides, those discarded Slim Jim wrappers won’t recategorize themselves.

3. Requirements. Mancaves that are not garages have mandatory stocking requirements. They include: a giant television, a computer, a LOUD SOUND SYSTEM … LOUD, a bar (but where a bar can’t fit, a small fridge), and a lingering scent that will drive most others out of the room.

4. Earmuffs! This is hallowed ground. It’s the one place the man can go with other men and let the language freely flow about fishing lures, shovel passes and bed liners. The syntax that prevails in these conversations sometimes makes drunken sailors blush. 

5. Mind the door. I say this with the full knowledge that my own office does not have a door. That said, a closed door is an opportunity to allow man vapors to secrete without hindrance; to crank the volume knob to 11; to play the Imperial March and allow the office walls to reverberate; to think manthings and concoct manideas, most of which we get in trouble for in the first place.

Yes, at times, our knuckles drag. We slobber. We have a favorite pelt we wear often and wash little. It only makes sense that our caves resemble us. So, peek inside and tell me: what’s your mancave like?

Top Five Times Mr. Vagabond and I Didn’t Go to Jail (But Could Have)

by Carolee

Basically, Mr. Vagabond and I are good, decent, law-abiding American citizens. The “law-abiding” part is diluted by the fact that we are also undomesticated five-year-olds who just happen to have driver’s licenses. Behold, the top closest calls we have ever had with the law, yet remained unshackled afterward. They’re in no particular order. Any near-miss with the pokey is equally unappealing.

1. Walking into a federal prison and not being discovered until we were lost somewhere back in their administrative offices.

This could have ended very badly, especially when the guard (who had left his post) showed up, escorted us outside and said in an threatening tone, “You can’t just walk into a federal prison!” I had to kick Mr. Vagabond in the ankle to keep him from saying what was on both our minds: Apparently, you can! In our mutual defense, the unmanned, unlocked front doors said “Enter” and I was there to serve papers on an inmate. Who knew that the only person who can serve papers on a federal inmate was the local sheriff? Well, ya do now.

2. Peeing on the heads of several well-dressed nuclear scientists at a high-security military installation.

Mr. Vagabond is the owner of this little escapade. Since he isn’t here to defend himself, I should explain. He was working at the top of a 400-foot cell phone tower, and it was a foggy day. Visibility was poor, and he had to pee. Later that day, had a difficult time keeping silent when one of the scientists said, “We almost called off the testing today because it rained for a minute.” You just can’t make this stuff up.

3. Having naughty time outside in broad daylight in a state park at the top of a mountain while using a juniper shrub for balance.

While this was probably illegal, it was also ill-advised. Junipers are prickly. I won’t go into any more detail. You’re welcome.

4. Trying (both unsuccessfully and unawares) to smuggle a half-empty bottle of tequila onto a super high-security Army base.

I swear, we didn’t know it was there. Yeah, that look on your face is how the Army police looked at us, too. I thought Mr. Vagabond threw it away, he thought I threw it away... at any rate, we had also forgotten about the half-empty bottle of wine under my seat and the camera that those fearless, uniformed men found just as they were wrapping up the search of our vehicle. That was a fun day!

5. Traipsing through a graveside funeral in an old cemetery while highly inebriated.

We’re beginning to sound like alcoholics, but there is an explanation. Mr. Vagabond had been out of town for several weeks. When he came home, we celebrated with rum. In our weakened mindset, we figured taking a walk was a terrific idea. The closest place to walk and avoid traffic at the same time was a small cemetery. And so we did. Because we’re smart like that.

 I don’t advocate any of the stupidity listed above, but it sure does make for interesting dinner conversation.