I feel like what I’m going to talk about today is more than a little related to yesterday’s post at Manolo for the Brides. Single ladies, MSN said, should eat their ice cream and have a cat while they still can. Now I found out, compliments of CNN, that married lads better learn to like skulking about in basements and garages.
For Brian, it’s not just about holding onto the ratty futon and the “Fletch” movie poster from his bachelor days. It’s about having a “mantuary,” or “man cave” — a space just for him where he can watch sports uninterrupted or play Xbox games with his buddies.
I’m kidding about the skulking. The Beard and I have our separate offices, and that’s good! I prefer complete silence when writing because I’m so easily distracted. He likes listening to music non-stop. When we shared an office back in the day this caused more than a few tiffs.
But the closest thing we have to a proper CNN-approved mantuary–a word that sounds a tad too much like mortuary for my tastes–is the finished basement, which houses the video game consoles; our books, CDs, and movies; and the weight bench…all things we both enjoy. It’s decorated with road signs and rock show posters. My glow-in-the-dark football lives down there. Perhaps our interests are simply less polarized than those of other couples?
I’d say more, but an Internet friend of mine put it so hilariously when he wrote:
Last week they did a series of stories on what they call “Man Caves,” special rooms that dudes (who have wives/girlfriends) have set up in their houses full of things that “dudes” enjoy, like beer, pool tables, posters, video games and crying softly to themselves behind the water heater clutching a pez dispenser wondering what the fuck happened to their lives. You know, guy stuff – no women allowed! A place to pretend that people who ride motorcycles are cool and not old, fat and sad. GUY STUFF. Lets play cards!
As far as I can tell, Man Caves are akin to what Indian Reservations are to the United States. The large powerful entity who actually controls things throws you a bone and tells you that you are permitted to do whatever you want on this sucky patch of land that nobody else wants. Hey, go crazy! What a great deal! Step outside that land though, and you are subject to the real and actual laws of the United States and you must also use a coaster and remove your shoes before walking on the good carpet.
That makes man caves sound so sad. Ah, well. The funny thing is that having our separate spaces just means that The Beard and I spend a lot of time “visiting.” We typically watch Doctor Who (old and new) on his computer in his office. Just yesterday, we spent the afternoon in my office taking turns sewing cases for our mp3 players.
If a mantuary is at its heart just one’s personal space in a larger shared space, I can’t say I see what the big deal is. As it happens, I’m typing this in my…what…womantuary? Chick cave?