Snacking Dilemma

I love our basement. Even though it is unfinished, has cold concrete floors in the winter and leaks sometimes when it rains, I love the place.

Because of the way our house is laid out, the basement is one of the only places I get to myself. Not even the whole basement because half is the laundry room, but the other half is my Man Cave with a TV, computer and recliner.

OK, not totally half because half of my half used to be dedicated to an area where my daughter could play, but she doesn’t go down there much anymore so I’m claiming that space as mine now.

The important thing is that I have a place to retreat and unleash the obsessed teenage sports fan which lives inside of me. I have a place to turn on the game, crack open a beer and have a few snacks.

That last part there poses the biggest problem. While the emotional maturity I bring to my interest in sports may remain in my teens, I still have the metabolism of a 43-year-old.

What’s that Smell?

I accompanied my wife on a shopping trip recently. She had to pick up some holiday items so I kind of just hung around the store and goofed off.
After I looked at all the stuff that could even remotely interest a guy, I wandered into the scented candle section. I have no idea why. I knew nothing there would interest me, but figured I would check anyway.
I hoped against hope I would find something to interest me, some candle that I could buy without looking like I had turned in my man card. I like a good scent as much as anyone else. I just don’t like to admit it.
That’s when it hit me. These candle people have totally underestimated us guys. They think we don’t want their product, when that’s not entirely true.

Mine, All Mine

At first, I didn't want to do it. My friend Eric Trimmer from the Trouble Brewing blog was looking for people to take part in what he calls "Beer Appreciation."…

No Rain Man

I love the movie “Groundhog Day.” One of my favorite scenes comes when Phil Connors, the irascible weatherman played by Bill Murray, tries to explain his predicament to his producer. “It’s the only possible explanation. I’m a supernatural being.”

He was talking about living the same day over again. I don’t have that problem, but I know exactly how we felt when he came to grips with his power.

It’s my fault we haven’t had rain for so long.

Basement Envy

I took my daughter over to a friend’s house the other day for a “play day.” We can’t say “playdate” in our house. Bridget had decided that the proper term is “play day” and doesn’t like when someone says “playdate.” That’s fine with me because I think the term is overused.

But that’s not the point. She didn’t just get to have a good time with a classmate that day. I came down with a bad case of basement envy.