Oh the horror - the angst - the agony.

We read about people going 'postal'. We read about men spending all their free time in bars, or walking aimlessly down main street wondering what's new. Men getting in their cars and driving - nowhere in particular - just driving. Sometimes they can't eat or sleep. Sometimes they feel an urge to watch Mr. Ed reruns on tv. Do you know why? These men don't have a garage.

They are quietly dying a slow, garage-deficient death. It's almost as bad as testing animals. The simple fact is - every man needs a garage. Or at the very least a workshop.

A garage can be the life blood of a man. A place where his wife can't tell him where to hang his tools. A place where a paint spill on the floor is no big deal. A place where a guy could have his very own tool bench, and every tool could have it's place…..if we could only find where that place was.

The garage can be a home within a home. A place where tunes playing from a paint-splattered radio included Hank Williams or Elvis or Merle. (it was reported the other day that many paint-splattered garage radios on the Coast were playing tunes by Green Day, Kiss and Counting Crows. There was even a report of one guy who's radio was tuned to a station that played - James Taylor. Oh, the angst. The agony. But they're on the coast :)

A garage is a place where a guy can just stand and think. Draw plans. Dream. Wonder. Smoke a pipe. Figure out how long it would take to save up $50,000. Change the world.

I realize that for many men these days, getting dirty hands isn't as appealing or necessary as it used to be. We can hire people to get their hands dirty for us. But think back when you were a kid. Back when dad had a welder or a lathe. A skill saw and a full set of dies. Every kind of paint thinner known to mankind. Every size and shape of screwdriver. Every size of mason jar and coffee can to put neat things in. (This was back when the coffee can lids were metal and had a little lip on them. They made terrific Frisbee-like flights. But I digress.)

The Garage. Tools, projects, hobbies, woodwork, welding, plumbing and electrical supplies. Of course, this was back when wives actually thought their husbands knew how to fix stuff, and wouldn't hesitate to ask them to fix the washer or fix a leak, or build a picnic table or fire pit or extend the house 20 feet.

My dad was one of those 'fix it' guys. As I was growing up, I saw my dad do some amazing things. He could mix concrete and build a wall one day, and overhaul a car engine the next. Or grow a new lawn or put in a new pane of glass. I always told my kids that my dad could build a 747 if he wanted to. And I have no doubt he could have….after reading the manual a bit. It was because he had a can-do attitude and spirit. Nothing was impossible. And if a person were to tell him something was impossible - you should have seen the sparkle in his eye. It was amazing as he would instantly explain how it 'could' be done. And it wasn't because he had anything to prove. It was because he lived with an internal sense of awe and wonder. And it was so much fun, that he wanted other people to experience the wonder of the impossible.

But, alas, that was then - this is now. I'm afraid many men are non-fixit guys because they don't have a garage. Or else the garage is so packed with stuff, that a guy couldn't make anything in there if his life depended on it. A tragedy of wasted space. Wasted on stuff rather than projects. Wasted on convenience rather than building up a boy or girls' confidence. Wasted on too many sets of skis, rather than teaching your little girls the difference between 30 weight motor oil, and automatic transmission fluid. Or the difference between a Phillips and flat blade or the subtle difference in drills and saws. Important stuff. Life-changing stuff.

As a kid, the garage was also a fun place to just hang out with dad. Maybe learn some new words while dad was working under the car, or learn that intangible lesson that 'kids have to put tools back where they belong, even though dad doesn't always have to.' I'm afraid for some people, failure to learn that lesson is why they turned into serial killers.

Some kids in school had dads who were football stars, or brilliant teachers or creative artists. Those of us who had dad's who weren't so great on the sports fields of life - took solace in the fact that our dads could assemble something really really complicated (as long as mom wasn't around) and to top it off - NOT read the directions! Let's see YOUR dad do that.

Of course, then you'd have little Eddie who lived next door come over and ask your dad why he had so many parts left over. Eddie only asked that question once. He got a 3 hour class on the excesses of modern manufacturing, and failure of some companies to hire dependable people to pack the boxes - look at all the extra parts they included that weren't needed!

There was a rumor at one time that some manufacturers put in a few extra parts just to give people a little anxiety so they wouldn't get over-confident and feel they could actually put something together.

Men without a garage. See a woman has all kinds of places; the family room, the kitchen, the living room, the dining room, the bedrooms, the bathrooms. The only thing off-limits to a woman is the garage - if a guy has one. I mean, even if a guy isn't handy, no doubt he at least has a combination screwdriver, ratchet set, hammer and cresent wrench. Where is he supposed to put those if he doesn't have a garage?

Sure, some men (very few) may have an excess of tools. They have tools specially designed to take the oil filter off a 1937 Chevy, or a tool that removes piston rings when they don't even know what a piston is. And sure, there are guys who have a great big garage and tons of immaculate space, and tools neatly packed away - but not a paint stain to be found on the floor. These are the people who give garages a bad name. They are the "I have a big, clean garage and every tool known to mankind that I won't allow anyone to use because they might get dirty" guys. THESE are the guys who may have bodies buried in the backyard somewhere. Be very careful if you see 'clean' tools.

I have a garage. A 2-car garage. But I only get about ½ a car's worth out of it. A quarter of the garage holds a store room and another quarter is a bedroom I built a room for my oldest son. Another 1/8th holds wrapping paper and stuff. The rest of the garage is filled with the flotsam and jetsam of life. No room left to build a boat or even a little shelf. But someday. Someday when the kids are all married and gone, I WILL have my garage back. I'll get my hands dirty. I'll build things. Well, at least I'll start building things. Sometimes a guy just gets distracted and forgets that he already has 20 projects unfinished that he 'should' finish before he starts another. But finishing is often over-rated.

Just think of it. Me with a 'entire' garage. I'll be able to again feel like a whole man. My chest hair will start growing again. Neighbors will bring me toasters and cars and busted trikes to fix. My grandkids will be the ones to learn new words while I'm working under my car. I'll be able to hold my head up high even if my wife isn't sure about the 'new me.'

Women - wives - girlfriends -significant others please listen! If your man doen't have a garage please hear my plea. Let your man have a garage - and let him decorate and paint it anyway he wants (except for maybe the auto parts catalogs).

If your man seems restless, listless, out of sorts - could be he needs to spend some quality time in the bathroom. OR he may need some garage-time if he has one. If your man doesn't have a garage, take him out for a burger and at least pretend you understand. Slip him the latest copy of Popular Mechanics under the table. He'll be yours forever. Heck, he might even build you something!

PS: If you are a woman and YOU are the handy-person in the household with a husband who is a worthless hack at being handy - well, on behalf of men everywhere my heart goes out to you. Perhaps we could build you a small garden shed. I mean after all, how many tools could a woman possibly need? :)