I am a member of a secret society. There are only three members and we can only be identified by our sagging Depends and the empty bottles of Ensure littered around our feet. We are the “MAN club” and our mission is to come up with ever more pathetic attempts to hold onto our waning masculinity while that effing bitch Mother Nature sneaks up from behind and gives us all a prostate exam. (1)

Actually, it’s just three guys who are the same age (and have birthdays within a few weeks of each other) who have the bodies of Abe Vigoda and the maturity of Ashton Kutcher.

Let me introduce you to the gang: Of course you all know me. I’m a sales manager for a technology company. Then there is Scott who is a pharmaceutical rep, and finally Bill, who works in manufacturing. On a given day the most strenuous thing any of us might do is staple a report together, and yet when we pass certain chronological milestones we feel compelled to go somewhere and risk our lives to try and prove that we are still testosterone oozing, mastodon killing, women clubbing, hunks of manhood. (2)

When we all turned 45 we learned to skydive. Since no one died, we promised ourselves that when 50 came we would do something even stupider. We batted around several ideas. One was to rent Harleys and ride to Vegas, Wild Hogs style, for a weekend of debauchery. But we decided that there would be too much chaffing involved and that they stay up way to late in Vegas anyway, so we scrapped that idea.

Instead….(drum roll please) We head out this Thursday for a trip to Canon City, Colorado to white water raft the Royal Gorge.

The literature states that we need to be in very good physical condition. I took that seriously and since we booked the trip I’m very proud to say that I have done at least three setups. (3).

Our wives feel that we need a chaperone so they are sending along Bills son; Bobby. Bobby is 27. Bobby was a Navy SEAL. Bobby bench presses over 300 lbs. So you know what this means don’t you? We are all much more likely to kill ourselves proving that we can keep up with Bobby than if he just stayed home (4).

When I get home I’ll update and let everyone know how it went (5). Until then, wish us luck and wish us fun. And here’s hoping our Depends will be buoyant enough to keep us afloat if we fall out of the boat.
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(1)  She refuses to use lube.
(2)  I can see you rolling your eyes from here.
(3)  Not all at the same time, of course.
(4)  Thank GOD he’s going, I’d be scared shitless if he wasn’t.
(5)  Providing I’m not in traction.

  

In Dante’s Inferno the avaricious and the prodigal occupy the fourth circle of hell and must spend all of eternity pushing giant boulders across a circle. In Mark’s Inferno those greedy enough to covet a more luxurious domicile must spend all of eternity carrying a top heavy Chest of Drawers up and down a narrow staircase with their significant other: “Push!/I am pushing!/Go to your left, no, not that left, the other left!/It’s too big, it’s never going to fit! (1) /Are you pushing?/Yes, I’m pushing!/Well, stop pushing!!!”

Yes, my wife and I moved last weekend.

Actually, the conversation above didn’t happen this weekend because we discovered early on in our marriage that we can do virtually anything together except move furniture. I hired four burly men with a big truck to come and move all the heavy stuff. It cost a shit load of money but trust me, it was worth every single penny.

This is all part of our insane master plan. First we remodeled and sold the home my wife owned when we got married. Then we remodeled and sold the home I owned when we got married. Now we’ve moved temporarily into a small rent house while we build a home on the lake. We’ve done all of this in the span of one year.

It looked good on paper, I swear it did.

While we build the new house (two year estimated time frame) we have moved from a 2500 sq. ft. home into a 1250 sq. ft. home. My wife and love each other very much, but now we’re going to discover how much we actually like each other. To say it’s cozy around here would be a gross understatement. If I could figure out a way to stack the dogs on top of each other and make them stay that way, I would do it.

But our insanity doesn’t stop there. Fortified by the experience of two successful remodels we have decided to act as our own general contractor in order to save money. I expect heavy medication will be involved (2).

The Parade of Homes begins in two weeks here in Tulsa. Our plan is to tour about 50 homes, writing down everything we see that we want to incorporate into our new home in a big notebook. Once we have accumulated all of this information and designed our dream home we will burn the notebook because there will be no friggin way we’ll be able to afford any of it (3) .

We believe strongly in the green movement and our ultimate desire is to build a green home (as much as is financially feasible.) We’ve been looking into the costs of various green technologies and it may be that painting the house green is as close as we’re going to get, but we’d really like to try. Some of the technologies we’ve looked at have very expensive initial costs. They promise, however, to more than pay for themselves over the life of the home. That’s very nice but I’m 50 years old and I will be dead long before the return on investment would become a reality for many of these possibilities and that has to be considered. But never fear; armed with multiple copies of “Mother Earth News” and our back yard composter we are marching head long into the final phase of the master plan.

Now, if you’ll excuse me my lovely wife is waiting for me to help her move a dresser from the house out into the garage (4).

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  (1)  Boy, if I had a nickel for every time a woman has told me THAT.
  (2)  I will be accepting donations.
  (3)  A 60” plasma TV and Surround Sound in the pantry would be nice, but do we really NEED it?
  (4)  The OTHER right/Stop pushing!!!