Neanderpundit

When I was doing my apprenticeship, I spent several months in Mobile shop working with a master named Cheek. Cheek was a native american, mormon, and a great wrench.

Cheek gave a lot of his money to the church. He had a pretty young wife (he was 9in his fortiers, she was in her twenties) and they had several children. Some of us had visited him, they lived in what was basically a two-room house. The kitchen/living room, and the bedroom. The house was clean and neat, but there were seven sleeping in one room.

While Cheek was a religious man, he wasn’t a prude, and he was heavily enamoured of his pretty wife. One day, he broke from his bible reading to interrupt a conversation- one of the guys was talking about Doggie Style- and Cheek had never heard of it.

We explained.

He said “hey, that sounds interesting. Have to try that out”
We all knew what the sleeping arrangements were at the Cheek house, so we figred he’d never get around to it. We didn’t think anything else about it, but days later, he came in and said “hey that there Doggy Style is different. I liked it OK but Not as much as the regular way.”

“Kids got a kick out of it, though.”

years ago, I was a regular contributor to a message board known as the Straight Dope.

I still browse there but the whole thing has become a leftist pain in the ass. The couple regular conservative commentors there are constantly shouted down by leftist morons who rely on ad hominem and Kos talking points- but there are a few decent folks there. Like these.

yeah, I know- there are a ton of folks collecting stuff for our boys and girls, and the folks of iraq, but here’s one you might be able to sign on to, if you haven’t otherwise.

When I was 19. Dad built a garage. We had an attached garage under the house, but this one was detached. it was “the shop”.

We built it large, and it had room for a lot of crap. It had a lathe and a mill, a woodstove, a couple stalls that could hold BIG cars. We could park a limo there.

There were chairs. Old recliners, mostly. Stuffing coming out of them. It was the only place on the property where you could read and smoke and drink and play with the dog- and of course fart and cuss and scratch in improper places- while welding, turning, wrenching. it was like TH White’s “Combination room”. The smell of woodsmoke and pipe tobacco probably permeates it still.

I hope to live long enough to recreate this. I hope I can get my “combination room” back. A man’s retreat, with a man’s toys inside.