Some times a man needs a place to retreat to in times of attack from stress related issues, A fortress of solitude for regeneration, You men know what I'm talking about, the in-laws show up unannounced. The grandkids though we love them with all our heart and souls, parents get amnesia and forget where they left them.

I could go on for days with reasons to use such a place. Clark Kent had one and he was a Superman. Surely an ordinary guy could find use for such a place.

So I set out to find my fortress of solitude. It had to be a place close to home in case I had to change into my alter ego and save someone in the family. So I thought long and hard, I pondered over it for months and than one day during my morning sacrament it hit me, the upstairs bathroom! It was perfect, and I wasn't being selfish or unreasonable, there was another bathroom downstairs, it was a full service bathroom, it was perfect for them. I was doing them a great favor. They wouldn't have to tackle all those stairs, it was close, it was surely larger, and the whole family could fit in there at one time if they had to.Yes I was doing them a favor no one had to think or make a choice of which one to use. Of course there were some minor drawbacks, like when uncle frank was over and had eaten a bowl of beans or some chili dogs or, all hell it was pretty much the same foul disgusting odor no matter what he ate.

And Aunt Martha removing her teeth every time she washed her hands, leaving them their on the sink looking at you as if they were ready to chomp down on you at any moment. I don't know why she felt it necessary to remove them; it wasn't like she was going to wash them or anything.

But these were minor issues that could be worked out by them, right. Anyway, I put my plan into motion; I to had some sacrifices and minor adjustments to make. By some weird circumstances and events, I was forced to build my FOS earlier than planned.

I waited for the first holiday to test my fortress of Solitude; it was the Mother of all reasons to retreat to my haven, the dreaded family reunion. I had forgotten it was my year to host this grand event. I cooked, and served everyone, well not by myself, but I did more than my share of smiling listening to great great great uncle Bills World War One Stories, You know that was the big one. The War to end all Wars. According to my uncle it would have been, had this idiot one star General allowed him to leave his post as the big gun operator and go to the rear and use the latrine. Instead uncle bill had to make a choice and sneak away leaving his gun and use a hole in the ground. It had to due, of course that was around the time the enemy ships sailed through the narrow canal, thus causing the enemy to be re-supplied with food and munitions for the next 3 years, well that's another story.

Where was I? Oh now I remember, the fortress. I guess by now you can see why this fortress was necessary. So I faked a tummy ache and excused myself after informing the family that I would be right back, But my wife Irene was no rookie, there would be no pulling of the wool over her eyes.

She knew I was up to something. So after a half-hour, which was generous I must say, she came a knocking. I grunted a few times for effect, but refused to answer for a few seconds hoping she would go away. Well that didn't happen. After all it was my side of the family gathered, reeking havoc on our home and her every last nerve.

She cursed, threaten and called me everything but a child of GOD. But I stood fast. I refused to open the door as I set in my Jacuzzi sipping on an ice cold mason jar of Vintage 1996 Rose Dom Perignon. Which I had conveniently removed from the small but efficient refrigerator I had secretly installed in the towel closet. You know where all of that useless aromatherapy oils, candles, soaps, and lady products use to live. It was a perfect fit concealed by all those towels and thing you set out for guest, that never actually gets put out.

I than I heard her yell out for my Uncle Sidney Allen Marshall, Grand Master Locksmith. He was 80 years old and still working. He had a 26 year old girlfriend and getting around better than me. He drove that dam locksmith truck every where he went. He came to my Cousin Jim's Funeral in that dam truck. I guess he thought someone at the cemetery might want to get out.

For the next three hours I heard him working on the door, the whole family must have been out there trying to give him tips. I even heard someone mention the fire department once or twice. At last I heard his 26-year-old girlfriend say, come on poppy, it's OK, a 99.9 % record was still good.

As I slipped back down into the swirling warm waters. I couldn't help but smiled, admiring the Mahogany camouflaged reinforced titanium steel door frame and X3620 lock I had installed just a few weeks earlier by one of those annoying door to door salesmen who pop up at your door with useless products for sale. You know the one the wife always seems to let the dog out in the yard when she sees them coming. I do believe she was out shopping for aromatherapy oils that day.

Copyright 2007 Thomas Neal
{moscomment}