HERMITVILLE

When My Captor proposed a ‘daughters weekend’ – at a beach resort – I was all in.

When she explained it didn’t include me, I thought she was all out, of her mind.

I tried reasoning with her. Who will…

Be your cabana boy and bring you drinks? Unfolding those little umbrellas can be tricky…

Save chairs by the pool? Unfolding those big umbrellas can be tricky…

Give massages and rub on suntan lotion? I’m an expert at SPF conversion.

Well, apparently resort staff handles all that, thank you very much.  And the male staff members have softer hands than mine…

My ‘full service’ hotel is when someone helps you figure out the waffle iron.

When pathetic whimpering didn’t work, I tried declaring as one of her daughters, but they weren’t fooled -my pronouns were Betty and Veronica.

Well fine, leave and have your girl’s fun!

But I’ll have even more fun – – who needs people!

A weekend alone: Welcome to Hermitville!

But before they left – with our only car – I made a Winn-Dixie run to stock up on beer, donuts, and cigarettes.

Beer for hydration, donuts for protein, and while I don’t smoke, I wasn’t sure what the ‘hermit lifestyle’ included, so if quiet reflection was accompanied by smoking, I’d be ready.

They left – did I mention, without me? – and my first project was removing the claw marks from the back of the door.

Real men thrive on isolation – my ‘boy weekend alone’ would be a spiritual retreat.

And like my dating life.

I resolved to live by the ‘hermit code’, but how to properly hermit?

I googled ‘hermit code’ and got nothing. Except for multiple pages of “Meet hermit women in your area” offers. What a confidence boost – they were eager to meet me!

Apparently, there is no ‘hermit code’, hermits being not much for committee work, so nothing in writing.

I searched for ‘hermit clubs and associations in my area’, but nothing. Apparently, hermits aren’t big joiners either.

I started a Hermit Facebook page, but I was my only friend.

I did learn some things about hermits:

A hermit is a bit like a stationary hobo. Though I knew I wasn’t hobo material when a train whistle didn’t disturb my nap, and my bindle was poorly tied, so my ‘hobostash’ kept falling out.

But I did buy a harmonica, lest I changed my mind.

Like monks, hermits are big meditators, a high class variation of ‘staring into space’.   

Living on the ‘hermit edge’, I left the house to use our neighbor’s pool – but with no lifeguard on duty I returned – not being sure if hermits are good swimmers.

My real lesson: I don’t recommend hermitting as a career.

Doesn’t pay much, tough to make new friends, and the main Hermit activities – guest appearances on the “Hobo Culture” podcast , Greco-Monk wrestling, and self-flagellation – should be done in front of an audience.

The. Weekend. Moved. Slowly. Was it finally Sunday, or 2024?

But eventually the paint dried, My Captor returned, closed my jaw and wiped up the drool from my ‘meditation session’.

Please don’t tell her, but I was happy to have her back – it’d been 3 days of me trying to solve my own problems, and I was exhausted.

And our daughters returned home to their families, relieving ‘single dad duty’, and ending the ‘admiring’ “You’ve got your hands full!” comments.

‘Daughters Weekend’ was a blast, but the best part: The men in the family were all reminded Mothers are the least appreciated and most missed family member.

Mother’s Day in 2 weeks: You’ve been warned!

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TO ENHANCE YOUR ENJOYMENT OF THIS POST, PAIR IT WITH THE FOLLOWING SONGS:

The best American rock band in operation is arguably Wilco (inserting arguably is a great way to start any bar discussion of the “best whatever”  – e.g. Beers at the Nifty is ‘arguably’ the best weekly post around) but they are fabulous. Check out Uncle Tupelo when you’re home alone. One step removed, Son Volt. And yes, incredible live.

Hate It Here  Wilco

I try to stay busy
I do the dishes, I mow the lawn
I try to keep myself occupied
Even though I know you’re not coming home

I try to keep the house nice and neat
I make my bed, I change the sheets
I even learned how to use a washing machine
Keeping things clean doesn’t change anything

What am I gonna do when I run out of shirts to fold?
What am I gonna do when I run out of lawn to mow?
What am I gonna do if you never come home?
Tell me, oh, what am I gonna do?

Oh, I hate it
I hate it here
When you’re gone

I caught myself thinking
I caught myself thinking once again
I have to try to keep my mind out of this
Try not to pretend

I’ll check the phone
I’ll check the mail
I’ll check the phone again
I call you’re mom
She says you’re not there
And I should take care

Oh, I hate it here
When you’re gone

I try to stay busy
I take out the trash, I sweep the floor
Try to keep myself occupied
‘Cause I know you don’t live here anymore