My Cave My View: I Couldn't Make This Up

By Gary Torres

Gary has used a Twain-like humor with a folksy small town snapshot of life to make us stop and reconsider our own life. He opens up with humor and tenderness that will bring laughter and tears from the same page as he paints pictures of the people, places, and activities that surround him. He and his dog Turbo, his too kind and loving wife, and four children are the innocents abroad on a raft made of love, pain, laughter, and hope that is floating the mighty Mississippi of life somewhere in the West.

From his experience raising kids, fighting cancer, running marathons his insights are like barbs on a fence that grab hold of you. Each section of the book contains small snippets of life and insights that make the reader pause to laugh at the character and themselves.

BATTLE OF THE SEXES: There it is...one blanket, one bed, two people. It is almost certain that someone is going to be cold tonight. Oh sure, we act cordial enough, remove our slippers, plump our pillows, shake the sheets, then position the mutual blanket and snuggle in for a good nights sleep; a wonderful ending to the age old battle of the sexes. A temporary truce of sorts, cant live with em, cant live without em.

YOU DRIVE ME CRAZY: You drive me crazy. There was a time when my wife said those words, and that was a good thing. Now, when she says those words, it is with a different tone and a different meaning. Its more like, YOU DRIVE ME CRAZY!!! And after being married and having kids I have come to decide that it is the little things that will eventually drive a person crazy.

BAGS, CHAPSTICK, AND SHOPPING: Im sitting here in my cave, talking to my dog, Turbo. Do ya think that well ever understand women? He looked up, smiled and wagged his tail; I think he thought I said, Would ya like a bite of my sandwich? Whenever I talk, he must always think I say that, because he always smiles and wags his tail the same way.

MYOWN EMERGENCY ROOM VISIT: Well I can tell you one thing. Dont be going to the hospital if you want to get rest and relaxation. Just about the time I would fall asleep, some nurse would come in and shake me and say, How ya feeling? Are you getting plenty of rest? I need some more blood. This is going to sting just a tiny bit. And proceed to play pin the tail on the donkey again. Frankly, I was tired of the game and didnt want to be the donkey anymore (although many think I am a natural for the part).

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Nov 2, 2011
• ISBN: 9781467067072

Gary Torres

Gary has written My Cave My View for the San Juan Record for 12 years and has won five Utah Press Awards. He has also written for the Emergy Progress. Gary has written feature articles, published photographs, and been a public speaker. Gary and his wife Dee; his “Too Kind and Loving Wife” have four kids and three grandchildren and until last year a loyal golden retriever, Turbo. His family, friends, and small town have provided endless hours of entertainment and been the inspiration for most of his writings. He has run thirteen marathons and coached many different high school sports. His golf game is no better for five years of practice. Gary and Dee make their home in the Four-corners area.

Book preview

Award Winning Humorist

cover.jpg

I Couldn’t Make This Up

Gary Torres

San Juan Record

US%26UKLogoB%26Wnew.ai

AuthorHouse™

1663 Liberty Drive

Bloomington, IN 47403

www.authorhouse.com

Phone: [phone]

© 2011 by Gary Torres. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

First published by AuthorHouse 10/27/2011

ISBN: 978-1-4670-6709-6 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4670-6708-9 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-4670-6707-2 (ebk)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2011919221

Printed in the United States of America

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Contents

DEDICATION

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

DEDICATION

This book is dedicated to my too kind and loving wife and my four children; they have encouraged me and given me great latitude to reveal many embarrassing family secrets. I have to thank Bill Boyle and the San Juan Record for giving me complete freedom for twelve years to express my warped view of the world in the weekly column My Cave My View. Finally, I have to express my thanks to my readers; they bring me into their lives each week and make me feel welcome. It is hard to express how much I loved hearing the words You made me laugh. And more importantly, as I shared heart-breaking moments in my life I received hundreds of letters telling me to hang in there; forever I am grateful for your kind words and actions.

A cross between My Big Fat Greek Wedding and a Huck Finn novel, the CaveGuy describes his small town experience married to his too kind and loving wife of 31 years. They experience the trials and adventures of remodeling 10 houses, raising four kids, running marathons, surviving cancer, coaching kids, and bailing his faithful dog out of the dog-pound. If ever there was a self-help manual on how to stay in love and effectively communicate with women; this is not it. And yet, at the end of the day as you stop to consider how ridiculous the CaveGuy is, you have gained an insight into your own life and relationship with the fairer sex. When you laugh, it might be because you see some part of yourself in the mirror the CaveGuy holds up to the world.

Chapter 1

MEN AND WOMEN

My Shower

Before I tell you this story, I want to make it perfectly clear, that my testosterone level is as high as any normal healthy red blooded macho male adult, okay? This morning I ran 5 miles, ate a steak, bacon, four eggs, watched WWF, scratched, and hooted at the neighbor lady while she was working on her flower garden.

But I am really quite beside myself this morning. After my run, I hopped in the shower and went to grab the no-name shampoo that you can also use to clean the garage floor with; but it was gone. So I started looking around and found myself surrounded by cutesy fruity bottles of personal hygiene products. Up to this point in my life, I have refused to use cutesy fruity personal hygiene products since I figured only sissies used them.

I know I shouldn’t let my curiosity go, but I did need to wash my hair so I started grabbing bottles to see which one I should use. I was being cautious, as I didn’t want to lather up with Nair… again.

I grabbed a bottle of some purple stuff called Sauve Shampoo—Lavender. First, I am always suspicious about shampoo that is colored trying to clean your hair. But, the bottle of Lavender claimed it had Passion Flower & Vitamin B5 and that it maintains natural health and shine of normal hair. I liked the sound of that passion stuff, so I decided that might be the one for me.

But then, I started wondering if I had normal hair. So I decided to study my options and looked at the other bottles in the shower.

I picked up the NEW VO5. It said that it was IMPROVED and was called Vanilla Blossom. It claimed you could Lose yourself in a fragrant field of sweet vanilla, honeysuckle and chamomile. I was getting so excited thinking about sweet vanilla that I decided I had better check and make sure the door was locked. The bottle claimed, that it revitalizes colored hair. Well this got me a little concerned because I didn’t know exactly what color of hair it revitalized. So I read the directions, wet hair, lather and rinse thoroughly. Sounded easy enough.

Then I spotted the Thermasilk Heat activated shampoo. It said that it volumizes and improves condition of fine or limp hair. Apparently it is activated by the heat of your blow dryer or curling iron or a blow torch if you operate one of them at work. For men, size counts, so volumizing sounded like a good thing!

But, I was really in a pickle. I didn’t know if I had normal hair, colored hair, or fine or limp hair. So I just used a dab of each of them.

I felt pretty good about my decision until I saw another bottle called Clairol Daily Defense Shampoo. It claimed that it Protects from everyday stress. Well, my too kind and loving wife is always saying that I am too stressed so I added a dab. I could almost feel the stress float down the drain as I was lost in the fragrant field of sweet vanilla, honeysuckle and chamomile.

I don’t normally use four shampoos in one shower so I decided I had better condition my hair. And I don’t normally condition my hair, because up to this point in my life, I refused to use conditioner since I figured only sissies conditioned their hair with cutesy fruity personal hygiene products.

Fortunately, I found a bottle of Pantene Pro-V and it didn’t say anything about fruit or avocados so I used it. Besides, it must be serious stuff because it says Pro Daily Treatment Conditioner, for fine hair. Well I think my hair is pretty fine. And besides it says, condition your hair all the way to the tips, without weighing hair down. You get hair that’s so healthy it shines. Well I kinda wanted shiny hair, besides it seemed that heavy hair would give you a head ache. Maybe, this is why my too kind and loving wife always has a head ache.

I was feeling awfully pretty, sorta like when I am using Lemon Pledge and dusting, and so I decided to continue my walk on the wild side. I grabbed a bottle of St. Ives Invigorating Apricot Scrub with Soothing Elder Flower. I like to eat apricots as they keep me regular so I thought this was probably a good one for someone my age. I just wasn’t sure where I wanted to start applying it, because it said that it, Gently exfoliates dull surface cells to reveal flowing, fresh, healthy skin. I wasn’t sure what exfoliates was… I mean it sounds like a medical term. I wasn’t even sure that it was legal to exfoliate in Utah. However, since I was in the privacy of my own home I figured it would be hard to prove that I had been exfoliating by myself so I decided to push the envelope and get exfoliated in my own private fragrant field of sweet vanilla, honeysuckle and chamomile! I re-checked the door.

I was feeling pretty good after lathering up and exfoliating for some time, but there in the corner was one last bottle; Smoothing Shower Scrub. I wasn’t sure if it was to be used to wash the tub or for use as a personal hygiene product; but I was feeling a little fruity anyway and the Tangerine Spice was more than I could resist. Besides it said that it cleanses and polishes skin and I thought after my being exfoliated I might want to cleanse and polish things a bit as that would remove any trace of the exfoliation that I participated in… just in case it was illegal.

It was time to get out of the shower and leave my fragrant field of sweet vanilla, honeysuckle and chamomile. I was feeling so darn pretty that I just couldn’t help myself. I grabbed the Clariol Herbal Essence Styling Gel, which, up to this point in my life I never used because only sissies use gel! But, who wouldn’t die for extra hold for shape and control. I wasn’t sure if it was panty hose or hair gel, but the Mallow Flower, Rose hips and Clover in mountain spring water sold me and I added some of it to my hair too. And you know I felt better just knowing that the Fresh Herbal scent invigorates the senses. Really, it made me go quite mad. Besides, at my age anything that can invigorate usually requires a prescription and is obtained at the pharmacy.

Later when I was getting dressed and was coming out of the closet, for the first time in my life the thought actually crossed my mind that my too kind and loving wife’s periwinkle skirt is soooo cute and by golly she does need more shoes. After dressing, when I walked by the mirror I turned to see if the jeans I was wearing made my butt look fat. And you know I was almost tempted to change my outfit.

Battle of the Sexes

There it is… one blanket, one bed, two people. It is almost certain that someone is going to be cold tonight. Oh sure, we act cordial enough, remove our slippers, plump our pillows, shake the sheets, then position the mutual blanket and snuggle in for a good night’s sleep; a wonderful ending to the age old battle of the sexes. A temporary truce of sorts, can’t live with ’em, can’t live without ’em.

Later, more specifically at 3:17 in the morning my teeth are chattering and I am lying in bed with goose bumps covering my body. I am curled into the fetal position trying to fit underneath my pillow. My wife has rolled over and managed to steal the blanket. She looks really cozy. There she is, my too kind and loving wife, the mother of my children, the woman I have chosen to spend forever with… all warm and happy, while I am left out in the cold… as it were.

Of course I am mad, but I don’t want to seem petty. I don’t want to appear like I am over reacting, which she, of course will accuse me of, if I grab her by the shoulders and shake her and roll her off the bed and say, Hey! What the heck are you doing? I could catch pneumonia like this. Now give me my share of the dang blanket! That is exactly what I want to do. But somehow I know that probably isn’t the nice thing to do.

Besides, we’ve talked about this before. She claims that she does this in her sleep and is therefore not accountable. She claims that she didn’t do it intentionally, or to be mean, so I can’t be mad. I hate it when people tell me I can’t be mad. It makes me mad.

I have thought about pretending like I am sleep walking and doing something that really annoys her, like leave the toilet seat up when I am finished, or down when I am using it, and then claim that I am exonerated from all punishment since Hey, I was sleeping. That’s your problem you didn’t look first.

On the other hand I am wide awake. It is 3:18 a.m. now and she is warm and I am freezing my behind off. If I grab the blankets and pull real hard I think that she will spin all the way down the hall. I chuckle at this image in my mind… it brings me some happiness, but no warmth.

Since I am awake and staring at the ceiling, I contemplate painting the ceiling, then painting the house. What the heck? Paint the entire neighborhood. Usually, thinking about work like that puts me right to sleep. It doesn’t work. I decide to snuggle in as close as I can, and gleam whatever warmth I can from my lifelong partner, the person I frequently share my pillow with, the very person I have given the last bite of my candy bar to. As I snuggle in, she lets out a warm comfortable whimper like a happy snuggly puppy sleeping safely with his siblings under his mother’s watchful eye.

That just adds to my anger. I decide that I will give her the stare. You know, when you are awake and your partner isn’t. If you just stare at them, pretty soon they wake up because they know they are being watched. I stare. I stare some more. Finally I let out a loud sigh and nudge her and then stare again.

Her motherly instincts kick in and she immediately awakens and she says, WHAT!

I reply, What do you mean WHAT? Are you awake?

She mutters, What’s a matter. Why are you staring at me?

I reply, I am not staring. I just couldn’t sleep.

No! You were staring at me… I can tell. Are the kids okay? Why can’t you sleep through the night like a normal person?

While she is talking I snuggle in and whimper. Her mothering instinct is awake even though she probably isn’t.

She says, "OOOhhhhh honeeeey, you’re so cold. You’re going to catch pneumonia like that! Come here. She pulls me under her arm and throws the blanket over me. I am happy again, but plotting my revenge. I safely tuck the blanket between my legs and under my body so that I can roll over as soon as she drifts off and steal the blanket. It is 3:21 a.m. The battle of the sexes continues.

Everyone Is Doing It

Grandparents do it, as often as possible. Middle age parents do it, sometimes. And, new parents… they are the worst; they do it as frequently as possible. Seems like everyone is doing it. In fact everywhere I look, someone is doing it. Good thing it is not illegal. With everyone doing it, you would think that Oprah would get a panel together to discuss why everyone is doing it. My too kind and loving wife and I do it. I have tried not to do it. But that didn’t last very long. Frankly, I guess I just like doing it. I have even seen people that I thought, there is no way they do it, do it.

What is it that everyone is doing? It is talking about their kids or grandkids. Won’t this ever stop? Its outa control. People just can’t control themselves. You want to break the ice with a stranger, just pull up next to them and ask, Hey, want to do it? Instant friends! They start talking, then open their wallets or purse and start showing you pictures of their kids or grandkids. Everyone I know likes to do it.

And as much as I like doing it, there comes a time each day, when I don’t want to do it. So that is when me and my too kind and loving wife, go for a short drive to get away from the kids for a few minutes. We do this to keep our sanity and because we like to talk to each other about something other than kids. But then what do we do? Before we drive 2 blocks, we are doing it again. We spend the entire time we are away from the kids doing it. We drive back home and sit in the car, reluctant to go in, not quite ready to continue with life’s million chores. So we sit in the car and do it some more.

Sure, there was a time, before kids, when we weren’t doing it. Then we talked about books, ideas, music, places we had been, or places and trips we were planning; but not anymore. Now all we ever seem to talk about is kids. Alas, it seems that we are always doing it.

I have tried to explain this to my wife. I tell her, that is why we don’t have any friends. We are too busy doing it. Other people think we are boring! We can’t talk about anything except our kids. We sit and talk and go on and on about our kids. One time we were so desperate for conversation with adults that we offered to buy some strangers dinner, and then what did we do? The entire time we talked about our kids. By the time I pulled out my wallet with photos of each child, our new friends were stone cold dead. That’s right, dead; cobwebs all over them. Looked like the guy actually took a fork to himself, couldn’t take it one minute longer I suppose. We hurried and snuck out, figured no use paying for something we didn’t eat.

One solution we tried is to invite friends that have kids. Then we all do it together… talk. Talk, about all of our kids and compare notes and pictures and we all feel somewhat better because we are all going through the same thing or have already been through it. Ahhh yes, I feel your pain man.

We share our worries that some day, when they go to their therapist, that their Shrink will blame all