Man Camp

Occasionally, my husband, Captain Fun, will have a “Men’s Retreat” on the farm. It’s a bit of a misnomer; there is no praying, meditating or yoga there. It’s an unbridled weekend of all-guy fun. After one such weekend, a good friend had an epiphany as he was packing up his things to go. He was exhilarated and exhausted from a couple of days of nonstop guy stuff and was sad to go back to his real life. “You know,” he said running fingers over his balding pate, “You could make money off men my age. Women with retired husbands would pay you to get their men out of the way.”We all chuckled, but it got me thinking … 

He could be on to something … from what I hear, the first few weeks of a man’s retirement are great. He’s relaxed, reading a lot of newspapers, watching a lot of golf, maybe even playing a lot of golf. But then, he may get antsy. If his wife is still working, it might work out just fine because there is still room there for the Holy Spirit. But if she, too, is retired … yikes. That’s a lot of time together. And that, right there, would be our market. I can just see the advertising campaign. 

Ladies, is your retired husband driving you crazy? Does he have way too much time on his hands these days? Are you starting to hate the sound of him slurping his coffee in the morning? Are you mumbling to yourself, “For better or worse, but never for lunch?” 

 Never fear, there’s hope. Send your guy to Man Camp.

 Yes, Man Camp is just the thing to get your man out of your face and onto the farm. At Man Camp your guy can keep busy doing all sorts of man things like:

·     Mucking stalls: nothing brings out the man in your man like the sweet smell of fresh horseshit! 

·     Shooting guns: let your man really feel manly by shooting firearms. You know he wants to at least try.

·     Farting in public: your man will feel validated and virile when he is surrounded by other men, farting into the wind or the sofa, with no judgment. Hell, he’ll probably be complimented!

·     Drinking: no worries, once your man is on the farm, he’s locked in. There’s no driving anywhere. And his stories are way funnier when he’s well lubricated and surrounded by other men who are drinking, thinking that they are The Most Interesting Man Alive.

·     Splitting logs: that’s not code for anything untoward … he will literally be cutting, splitting and stacking dead wood for hours. What could be more fun?

·     Smoking cigars, cigarettes and whatever: We know you hate the noxious smell of cigars. But at Man Camp, your guy can puff, puff, puff away his stress and have bad cigar breath all weekend. With all the farting and horse shit, who can smell it anyway?!

·     Grow a beard: Recent genetic tests confirm that Captain Fun has very strong Neanderthal bloodlines. If your fella can’t grow a beard of his own, he can sit back with a brewski and watch the Captain’s beard grow!

You say your man is not into that kind of thing? That he’s a well-shaven metrosexual? An inside guy? Farm that! Even more reason to send him to Man Camp! No woman should be with a guy who uses more beauty products than she does.

Of course Captain Fun would be in charge, but the Head Camp Counselor for Man Camp would be my brother-in-law, Big Boy. Big Boy (also known as Captain Excess for his penchant for going overboard on, well, everything) has been retired for about ten years now and our acquisition of the farm came at just the right time. He was starting to get so squirrely in early retirement that he took to driving to Florida a couple of times of year as if he was running out to get milk or something. “I’ll be right back, I’ve just got to run down to Lauderdale for a few things. Don’t hold supper!” My sister was getting exasperated. But then came the farm and Big Boy found his mojo. Now, he runs down to the farm at least once a week. There is barely time in the day there to complete all the man things he has to do. The Sherriff loves it because he has a willing helper for all sorts of farm jobs, so it’s win/win.  Big Boy is the Lance Armstrong of the log splitter, a Winner at weed whacking and the straight up Shit at shit shovelling. 

Besides running MAN CAMP, Big Boy could run a special CAMP GRANDPA focusing on how to be The Best Grandpa Ever. Big Boy is never happier than when surrounded by a gaggle of young people. Standing about 6’ 5”, he towers over his tribe of grandchildren, grandnieces/nephews and a few strays like a huge male Mother Goose (or would that be Grandpa Gander?). With his booming voice and huge frame, it’s amazing that kids gravitate to him, but he’s so disarming with his joy and ability to connect with them, they all eventually give in and have a ball. When he has a crew with him on the farm, he’ll toss a bunch into the four-wheeler, and zip down the gravel road, sending up a cloud of dust and laughter behind him. Or, he’ll turn the temperature down in the hot tub and throw them all in there, like a big bowl of kid soup. 

I’m telling you, there’s an untapped revenue stream here. Picture the movie, City Slickers meets Blazing Saddles with a little bit of Bad News Bears on the side. 

I really think I’m on to something here.

Welcome to Man Camp!

Welcome to Man Camp!