Cabin fever

August 26, 2006 at 1:35 am (Uncategorized)

Lately, I find myself longing for my old cabin. I’m not talking about some modern house on a lake somewhere. I’m talking about an honest-to-God cabin, built of old boards stolen from a moving company and nails swiped from somebody’s workshop. A cabin built deep in the woods and constructed in pursuit of all a young man’s ambitions as he toddles into adolsescence. Specifically, girls and beer.
I had several cabins when I was a kid, but the one that stands out is the one we built in a tree behind the armory. It was a prize winner, that one. The boards came from old crates stolen from United Van Lines (the statute of limitations has run out on the theft charge). We had to drag massive crates across a budy road and into the woods behind the armory. We had to brave bees and older kids as we blazed a trail to the building site.
Totally worth it. We set up a retractable ladder, filled the cabin with hay, and built a hidden compartment where beer or magazines could be stashed. We lured girls there at night and generally partied like emporers. Good times, man. Good times. I broke my figurative cherry in that cabin, I’ll have you know.
Some asshat tore the cabin down one weekend when I was away. A lot of good memories got ripped apart and strewn across the forest floor. A lot of good magazines and a few bottles of warm Miller disappeared. The culprits were never discovered. In fact, until the crime is solved, you’re all suspects.






  1. jarheaddoc said,

    The culprit was a debauched conquest of your’s, Mark. She was probably looking for the cherry she lost.

  2. LaFlamme said,

    An interesting thought. I never considered that.
    By the way, the young lady’s name was “Peace.”

  3. Gil said,

    I’m just saying

  4. jarheaddoc said,

    And she gave you “love”. What’s the third part of that triad, happiness? Yeah, happiness the rubber didn’t break and your crank wasn’t sneezing for weeks afterwards. Or is the joyous feelings a man experiences when he hear’s the magical words, “I got my period today,” ?

  5. "The Weasel" said,

    Zzzz…… Zzzz….. Zzzz…… Zzzz….. Zzzz…… Zzzz….. Zzzz…… Zzzz…..

  6. Dave said,

    I can’t believe there are only 5 comments on this post. I had a similar palace up in the woodlands of Mexico, Maine. Secret hiding places for beer and magazines. Lots of fun times. The beginnings of that now designer style of “shabby chiq”.

    My particular cabin went up in flames, by some creep we wouldn’t let in, and wouldn’t share the secret password with. We didn’t got mad, we got even. No comment beyond that.

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