I haven't updated postings on this blog for much of the last year or so. There is no good or profound reason for my tardiness in posting on this blog, either.
This post is like the other more recent post that is out of date sync with the remainder of the blog.
As you may note, almost every other post carries the same date as the first post. I did this to keep most of the postings in order from the true beginning until the more recent observations and comments were created.
I shall digress from that model with this post.
Since getting laid off from the U.S. Census, I have been 'hunting' and 'gathering' looking for an employment opportunity that could last me for at least 12 more years of work life.
Currently I am in the 'nether world' of having accepted a contingent offer from the Transportation Security Administration and now continue the process of trying to figure out how to completely and correctly fill out the monstrous background check documents that I seem to remain slightly and mediumly out of the loop with.
It certainly doesn't help matters that I worked four different assignments for the 2010 Federal Census of the United States, in different times, and out of more than one office.
But as of this morning, I haven't received any new Emails about problems I have been having with those forms, so I am keeping the fingers I don't use typing, crossed.
Uncertain that I will eventually get the call from T.S.A., I am also attending job fairs and 'hunting' for positions, as a caveman can and should do.
Naturally too, being the caveman that I am, allows me to work on my 'hunt' and 'gather' much information about possibilities for me in an economy that continues to stink and does not look to be improving any time soon.
Now that The Marymount Plan's measure on the November 2, 2010 ballot for residents of Rancho Palos Verdes has its own identity, "P" I have been and will continue my quest to offer commentary, facts, figures, and just about every means at my disposal to help voters learn how dangerous I feel having up to 250 college-age students living in on-campus housing at the particular site of Marmount College, would be.
Since I am a true caveman, I have the ability to singularly concentrate on hunting for facts, gathering information, and working hard towards defeating the 'enemy' that is approval of Measure P.
Cavemen are uniquely qualified that, when necessary, we can focus solely on the subject at hand, plan, and then execute means to deliver results that are good for the cave dwellers and good for the community.
Folks like me can concentrate, without distraction, on important matters and leave just about everything else out of the picture, until we decide other things are important.
I call what true cavemen do, sequential tasking and you can read all about that on posts describing the real differences between multi-taskers (mostly females) and sequential taskers (mostly males carrying the caveman genetics in these times).
Since earlier this year, I have been learning more about and finding better relationship to my nature as a caveman and my mediumly affective Asperger's Syndrome. I have found out many fascinating things about how these two seemingly very different things are actually beneficial to each other.
Cavemen, as history notes, were required to remain extremely focused on the two major requirements of their lives; supplying the cave with food and assisting in the creation of more cave-babies.
You see in many persons, mostly males, with Asperger's a view that they are very uncomfortable doing or thinking about more than one thing at a time.
Cavemen were the first and most importantly for the success of the cave, the best sequential taskers.
Try and distract an Asperger's person away from the one thing they are concentrating on and you will quickly notice the frustration and irritability that is caused.
Also, cavemen must also have been extremely aware and keen to their personal surroundings and tactile responses in order to hunt for food or grow and reap foods. We see that many Asperger's persons are extremely sensitive to touch, taste, noise, bright and overly sharp images and everything else that would keep them from complete concentration of whatever task they are performing.
Terri knows this well when I am typing away at a keyboard. She knows that she must do more than a simple verbal request to get me to acknowledge that she is even in the same room as I am.
Terri also knows that when I am in my stream of whatever I am doing, I am unable to concentrate on anything else and nothing is of greater importance than what I am doing at that particular time.
It took quite a long time for me to learn not to erupt with much anxiety when distracted by something other than what I was doing. It is very difficult to get many Asperger's persons to feel any real ease at being distracted and it is hard to teach that to others.
So I pondered and pondered and now I feel that Asperger's Syndrome is a very long and very old established consequence of having more genetic similarities to true cavemen than science has learned, so far.
Maybe someday scientists will finally discover more connection between those with Asperger's Syndrome and those of us who continue the genetic line of true cavemen.
I also have been pondering Autism and I am now thinking that it may be a genetic result of cavemen genetics clashing with newer genetics that still have yet to be discovered.
I shall ponder and write on this blog more, in the nearer future.
Tuesday, August 24, 2010
Monday, July 12, 2010
A New Post After Some Serious Pondering
Greetings!
Yes, it has been over two years since my last post. I have been learning much and pondering even more and that is why I am now posting this higher than all other posts.
This blog was created to offer humor and insight into men like me....a true caveman.
But I have been doing a lot of thinking and I may have found a real link between the real men who lived in caves and did those things I illustrated in this blog, and what I am and have seen and learned in others.
I think if scientists study people like me, our brains and how we think, they may find the genetic and chemical link that offers the best insight into early mans' history and how people like me can be helped live in this environment better than we do now.
It is all about understanding how people like me, mostly males, think and see things and how it must have been for real pre-historic cavemen, so very, very long ago.
I have a form of Asperger's Syndrome which is a mild form of autism. For me it benefits me in many ways and it allows me to consider why I am the way I am and how I might be more genetically closer to pre-historic cavemen that most others are, today.
In going through this blog more, you will read that I am not able to multi-task and I am a great sequential tasker. That type of thinking and working was probably the only way pre-historic families survived and grew in numbers and I explain it all fairly well in the first few other posts on this blog.
I am a visual thinker and take things almost exactly as I see them. This is one trait of someone with Asperger's that is universal between the milder and more harsher forms of Aspergers leading towards autism.
It is now my opinion that truly successful cavemen, the ones who really contributed to the success of the community had to have been almost completely visual in their thought processes and nowhere near as verbal or thoughtful as others, typically women, in the community.
It is because I am and cavemen were almost completely visual in their thinking processes that they were able to hunt and gather better than persons who were more verbal and better at thinking through abstract thoughts.
Since I see what I think and think what I see, I am able to spot things like animals more clearly than many others.
I don't allow distractions to get in the way of a singular vision or thought I am considering and that is also why is takes quite a bit to get my focus off of what I am tending to and on to what someone else wants me to consider or listen to.
I simply do not and cannot focus on more than one thing and a time and that is probably the same genetic trait of so many cavemen back in their day.
They were so keenly focused and single-task oriented that they were able to provide for the cave that which the other cave dwellers needed.
Here is an illustration that people like me see very clearly but is almost impossible to explain to others who do not think and conceive as we do.
Take the following sentence: How to open a bottle of wine with no corkscrew.
Now to most people, that sentence means there will be a lesson in how to open a bottle of wine when there is no corkscrew available.
But to folks like me, I see a bottle of wine and I see another bottle of wine with a corkscrew attached and consider that there can be two different types of bottles, one with a corkscrew attached and one without a corkscrew attached.
Now for almost all of you reading this, the sentence is a no brainer. But for persons with forms of Asperger's we consider two bottles and 'see' both of them and wonder what in the heck the lesson should be about.
For most people who communicate to those having forms of Asperger's Syndrome, I am sure you know what I am trying to get across.
I bet those folks get fairly agitated because their Asperger's person has such a difficult time understanding verbalization that are found perfectly normal and easily understandable to those who don't have Asperger's Syndrome.
I can also imagine the frustration in peoples' faces with they have to repeat their words because whatever they said either doesn't sink in or is misunderstood by people like me.
I think there is a woman with the last name of Grantlin who has Asperger's and goes around lecturing about how she thinks. I think she is off base with her thinking and I feel she could help everyone better if she refocuses her comments to make them better understood by those who are not like she and I.
It looks to me that the genetic makeup of someone with forms of what we call today, Asperger's Syndrome is actually and more factually better considered as how a 'normal' caveman thought and saw things back in pre-historic times.
I now think that the evolution of the brains of humans caused what was 'normal' to become 'abnormal' after so many thousands of generations of peoples.
I would make a perfect caveman if I were to be transported back to the stone age.
I can sit and look for a kill on a hunt for hours and hours.
I can clear my head of just about every thought not necessary to help nourish myself and others.
I can grow things much easier than others I feel because I can be so patient in my work and waiting for foods to grow and get harvested.
I can offer instructions in a step-by-step manner that clears away what I consider as unnecessary wording and items.
Being so visual, I believe I have greater abilities to select a possible mate who could provide the best offspring for the success of the community. It is natural and doesn't require very much thinking-through, perhaps.
I can also some great things, one at a time. If I get requested to do too many things at one time, it is like a circuit overload and I am quite sure many readers have seen or heard what happens when someone with Asperger's feels overloaded.
It is true that when someone asks me to do something or go somewhere, I naturally feel they want me to do or go right then and they have some difficulty if I get frustrated with their request because my thought process allows me to first and foremost accomplishing the request almost immediately.
It is in my nature to listen to one thing at a time, do one step at a time, think about only one thing at any given moment.
I construct blog posts one thought at a time after only considering the overall theme of the post and then include individual words in a step-by-step pattern.
I can concentrate on a maze and get through it probably much quicker than others because I see the route so clearly while blocking out wrong pathways quickly and storing that information so well.
But if you want me to have a conversation with you while I am eating, then we have a problem.
If you want to talk to me about vacation plans while I am driving, please don't waste our time.
If you need to provide me information then just do it as simply as possible and do not add any 'extraneous' wording or non-informative thoughts to me, because I will get confused.
I do get frustrated easily if you don't seem to understand what I am trying to say to you because it is perfectly picture clear in my mind and I have real problems with the concept that you can't 'see' in your mind what I am talking about.
But if we can connect on instructional terms, I am a fantastic teacher with lessons that involve visual topics, including hands-on and practical training.
"What's that! Can't you chew gum and walk at the same time?" Well, for many folks like me, it can become a bit hard to do two very different things at one time. If I am chewing gum and walking, watch my mouth and feet because I will be chewing in time with my steps.
I also can confuse 'normal' people with my comments to their statements and questions. If they are not visual thinkers, it is more likely I will miss what they are trying to tell me unless I can 'see' is easily.
The stock market and most financial matters are far too abstract for me to comprehend. If I can visualize a pattern or something similar to a picture of what is trying to be explained to me, I have a better understanding. These matters seem to have too many multiple layers and different concepts that are not visual and linear.
I can delve into what many feel is abstract thought, but to me, it is not abstract as long as I can 'see' it like matters involving the universes down to single-cell animals and viruses.
I don't feel out of the ordinary in terms of what 'ordinary' Asperger's people have to deal with.
Have you noticed that many people like me can not verbally communicate with other for extended periods of time and feel quite calm and at peace? It's just natural for us.
Our frustration level peaks when a verbal-based person attempts to get their points across to us when we are doing something else or just being our silent, pondering selves.
I can sit and think about nothing for a long time, too.
When I have no opinion about something, I really and truly have no opinion or real consideration of any value for me to communicate.
Terri gets very agitated at times she shops and finds something and then asks my opinion and tell her I don't have one.
However, there are times I will walk into a store to get something for Terri and I will take a quick glance around and if my eye catches something I usually get it because it offers me visual pleasure seeing Terri and only Terri wearing it. I can 'see' Terri wearing it before she sees it and I am usually right on about 90+% of the time, as long as I pick the correct size.
Picking the correct size however, is another abstract that I will always have problems with. I always have to remember what size Terri tells me she is when I shop for something for her to wear. I know what I think I like Terri to look good wearing and she usually agrees. It is another 'natural' trait.
But I will always hate shopping with Terri because she can look at multiples of clothing at the same time and that drives me batty.
I think when you see a group of 'nerds' having a discussion you have no clue to what they are talking about, either they are communicating true abstract concepts or you are not understanding their visual-base communication. That is not all that uncommon.
A comical illustration of that is when Penny has trouble understanding Sheldon on "The Big Bang Theory". Sheldon is not verbal except for his exacting wording that multi-taskers like Penny can't 'see'. Sheldon is trying to verbalize what his mind 'sees' but Penny's mind is not set up to understand Sheldon's mind. That is not necessarily a bad thing, though.
So in the end, I feel more comfortable with being a true caveman now. I hope to be able to help others understand why they might be different and how we all can communicate better, together.
Sometimes I use humorous remarks because things can be so darn funny to me that only myself and others like me would understand and the rest of the folks think I am out of my mind.
Actually, I am out of their mind.
Yes, it has been over two years since my last post. I have been learning much and pondering even more and that is why I am now posting this higher than all other posts.
This blog was created to offer humor and insight into men like me....a true caveman.
But I have been doing a lot of thinking and I may have found a real link between the real men who lived in caves and did those things I illustrated in this blog, and what I am and have seen and learned in others.
I think if scientists study people like me, our brains and how we think, they may find the genetic and chemical link that offers the best insight into early mans' history and how people like me can be helped live in this environment better than we do now.
It is all about understanding how people like me, mostly males, think and see things and how it must have been for real pre-historic cavemen, so very, very long ago.
I have a form of Asperger's Syndrome which is a mild form of autism. For me it benefits me in many ways and it allows me to consider why I am the way I am and how I might be more genetically closer to pre-historic cavemen that most others are, today.
In going through this blog more, you will read that I am not able to multi-task and I am a great sequential tasker. That type of thinking and working was probably the only way pre-historic families survived and grew in numbers and I explain it all fairly well in the first few other posts on this blog.
I am a visual thinker and take things almost exactly as I see them. This is one trait of someone with Asperger's that is universal between the milder and more harsher forms of Aspergers leading towards autism.
It is now my opinion that truly successful cavemen, the ones who really contributed to the success of the community had to have been almost completely visual in their thought processes and nowhere near as verbal or thoughtful as others, typically women, in the community.
It is because I am and cavemen were almost completely visual in their thinking processes that they were able to hunt and gather better than persons who were more verbal and better at thinking through abstract thoughts.
Since I see what I think and think what I see, I am able to spot things like animals more clearly than many others.
I don't allow distractions to get in the way of a singular vision or thought I am considering and that is also why is takes quite a bit to get my focus off of what I am tending to and on to what someone else wants me to consider or listen to.
I simply do not and cannot focus on more than one thing and a time and that is probably the same genetic trait of so many cavemen back in their day.
They were so keenly focused and single-task oriented that they were able to provide for the cave that which the other cave dwellers needed.
Here is an illustration that people like me see very clearly but is almost impossible to explain to others who do not think and conceive as we do.
Take the following sentence: How to open a bottle of wine with no corkscrew.
Now to most people, that sentence means there will be a lesson in how to open a bottle of wine when there is no corkscrew available.
But to folks like me, I see a bottle of wine and I see another bottle of wine with a corkscrew attached and consider that there can be two different types of bottles, one with a corkscrew attached and one without a corkscrew attached.
Now for almost all of you reading this, the sentence is a no brainer. But for persons with forms of Asperger's we consider two bottles and 'see' both of them and wonder what in the heck the lesson should be about.
For most people who communicate to those having forms of Asperger's Syndrome, I am sure you know what I am trying to get across.
I bet those folks get fairly agitated because their Asperger's person has such a difficult time understanding verbalization that are found perfectly normal and easily understandable to those who don't have Asperger's Syndrome.
I can also imagine the frustration in peoples' faces with they have to repeat their words because whatever they said either doesn't sink in or is misunderstood by people like me.
I think there is a woman with the last name of Grantlin who has Asperger's and goes around lecturing about how she thinks. I think she is off base with her thinking and I feel she could help everyone better if she refocuses her comments to make them better understood by those who are not like she and I.
It looks to me that the genetic makeup of someone with forms of what we call today, Asperger's Syndrome is actually and more factually better considered as how a 'normal' caveman thought and saw things back in pre-historic times.
I now think that the evolution of the brains of humans caused what was 'normal' to become 'abnormal' after so many thousands of generations of peoples.
I would make a perfect caveman if I were to be transported back to the stone age.
I can sit and look for a kill on a hunt for hours and hours.
I can clear my head of just about every thought not necessary to help nourish myself and others.
I can grow things much easier than others I feel because I can be so patient in my work and waiting for foods to grow and get harvested.
I can offer instructions in a step-by-step manner that clears away what I consider as unnecessary wording and items.
Being so visual, I believe I have greater abilities to select a possible mate who could provide the best offspring for the success of the community. It is natural and doesn't require very much thinking-through, perhaps.
I can also some great things, one at a time. If I get requested to do too many things at one time, it is like a circuit overload and I am quite sure many readers have seen or heard what happens when someone with Asperger's feels overloaded.
It is true that when someone asks me to do something or go somewhere, I naturally feel they want me to do or go right then and they have some difficulty if I get frustrated with their request because my thought process allows me to first and foremost accomplishing the request almost immediately.
It is in my nature to listen to one thing at a time, do one step at a time, think about only one thing at any given moment.
I construct blog posts one thought at a time after only considering the overall theme of the post and then include individual words in a step-by-step pattern.
I can concentrate on a maze and get through it probably much quicker than others because I see the route so clearly while blocking out wrong pathways quickly and storing that information so well.
But if you want me to have a conversation with you while I am eating, then we have a problem.
If you want to talk to me about vacation plans while I am driving, please don't waste our time.
If you need to provide me information then just do it as simply as possible and do not add any 'extraneous' wording or non-informative thoughts to me, because I will get confused.
I do get frustrated easily if you don't seem to understand what I am trying to say to you because it is perfectly picture clear in my mind and I have real problems with the concept that you can't 'see' in your mind what I am talking about.
But if we can connect on instructional terms, I am a fantastic teacher with lessons that involve visual topics, including hands-on and practical training.
"What's that! Can't you chew gum and walk at the same time?" Well, for many folks like me, it can become a bit hard to do two very different things at one time. If I am chewing gum and walking, watch my mouth and feet because I will be chewing in time with my steps.
I also can confuse 'normal' people with my comments to their statements and questions. If they are not visual thinkers, it is more likely I will miss what they are trying to tell me unless I can 'see' is easily.
The stock market and most financial matters are far too abstract for me to comprehend. If I can visualize a pattern or something similar to a picture of what is trying to be explained to me, I have a better understanding. These matters seem to have too many multiple layers and different concepts that are not visual and linear.
I can delve into what many feel is abstract thought, but to me, it is not abstract as long as I can 'see' it like matters involving the universes down to single-cell animals and viruses.
I don't feel out of the ordinary in terms of what 'ordinary' Asperger's people have to deal with.
Have you noticed that many people like me can not verbally communicate with other for extended periods of time and feel quite calm and at peace? It's just natural for us.
Our frustration level peaks when a verbal-based person attempts to get their points across to us when we are doing something else or just being our silent, pondering selves.
I can sit and think about nothing for a long time, too.
When I have no opinion about something, I really and truly have no opinion or real consideration of any value for me to communicate.
Terri gets very agitated at times she shops and finds something and then asks my opinion and tell her I don't have one.
However, there are times I will walk into a store to get something for Terri and I will take a quick glance around and if my eye catches something I usually get it because it offers me visual pleasure seeing Terri and only Terri wearing it. I can 'see' Terri wearing it before she sees it and I am usually right on about 90+% of the time, as long as I pick the correct size.
Picking the correct size however, is another abstract that I will always have problems with. I always have to remember what size Terri tells me she is when I shop for something for her to wear. I know what I think I like Terri to look good wearing and she usually agrees. It is another 'natural' trait.
But I will always hate shopping with Terri because she can look at multiples of clothing at the same time and that drives me batty.
I think when you see a group of 'nerds' having a discussion you have no clue to what they are talking about, either they are communicating true abstract concepts or you are not understanding their visual-base communication. That is not all that uncommon.
A comical illustration of that is when Penny has trouble understanding Sheldon on "The Big Bang Theory". Sheldon is not verbal except for his exacting wording that multi-taskers like Penny can't 'see'. Sheldon is trying to verbalize what his mind 'sees' but Penny's mind is not set up to understand Sheldon's mind. That is not necessarily a bad thing, though.
So in the end, I feel more comfortable with being a true caveman now. I hope to be able to help others understand why they might be different and how we all can communicate better, together.
Sometimes I use humorous remarks because things can be so darn funny to me that only myself and others like me would understand and the rest of the folks think I am out of my mind.
Actually, I am out of their mind.
Friday, May 22, 2009
Welcome New Visitors!
For those of you visiting for the first time, welcome.
Yes I know that the spelling of the blog's title is troubling to some, but there is a reason for that and it is explained in one of the posts.
This post is here for only a short time. It is out of sequence with the rest of the posts.
I will certainly do a too lengthy post about my roles in "Upton Sinclair's Singing Jailbirds, The Musical" and how it related to my being a true Caveman.
But for those of you who saw the show, thanks for coming and I hoped you enjoyed it!
I was a picketer, The Dominie, and The Bailiff.
This blog may eventually find a way to be published as a series of short stories IF I can find a real editor to deal with my writing.
But for now, I hope you will find some humor and information about Cavemen on this blog.
Heck, if you only learn that it takes just three sentences to provide the difference between most men and most women, then my job is done.
Yes I know that the spelling of the blog's title is troubling to some, but there is a reason for that and it is explained in one of the posts.
This post is here for only a short time. It is out of sequence with the rest of the posts.
I will certainly do a too lengthy post about my roles in "Upton Sinclair's Singing Jailbirds, The Musical" and how it related to my being a true Caveman.
But for those of you who saw the show, thanks for coming and I hoped you enjoyed it!
I was a picketer, The Dominie, and The Bailiff.
This blog may eventually find a way to be published as a series of short stories IF I can find a real editor to deal with my writing.
But for now, I hope you will find some humor and information about Cavemen on this blog.
Heck, if you only learn that it takes just three sentences to provide the difference between most men and most women, then my job is done.
Thursday, October 05, 2006
My Caveman Dairy
Howdy,
Welcome to the first post on this blog. I hope you learn a thing or two and when you are done reading each post, I hope you have a smile on your face.
I have written a group of essays detailing how it can be there are still real cavemen among the rest of you. In the essays that I will transform into posts, I will attempt to explain how and why men like us still exist and why we still make contributions to our communities and the world.
I can easily explain the differences between most men and women and when you understand the differences, you might just slap the palm of your hand against your forehead and blurt; "now why didn't I think of that!"
I will let you know why the title of this blog is "Caveman Dairy" and not "Caveman Diary".
I will open up the world to the inner workings of the hunter-gatherer man and how he fits into all the pictures, big or small.
You are finally going to learn, from a real caveman, why we don't talk a whole lot and why we simply can't listen very well. Everything will become so clear through reading the postings that you will come away with a greater understanding of why caveman are the way we are. More importantly, you will see why, once you understand us, we are very important to the society.
And now, without further adoo or adon't, I begin my Caveman Dairy!
Welcome to the first post on this blog. I hope you learn a thing or two and when you are done reading each post, I hope you have a smile on your face.
I have written a group of essays detailing how it can be there are still real cavemen among the rest of you. In the essays that I will transform into posts, I will attempt to explain how and why men like us still exist and why we still make contributions to our communities and the world.
I can easily explain the differences between most men and women and when you understand the differences, you might just slap the palm of your hand against your forehead and blurt; "now why didn't I think of that!"
I will let you know why the title of this blog is "Caveman Dairy" and not "Caveman Diary".
I will open up the world to the inner workings of the hunter-gatherer man and how he fits into all the pictures, big or small.
You are finally going to learn, from a real caveman, why we don't talk a whole lot and why we simply can't listen very well. Everything will become so clear through reading the postings that you will come away with a greater understanding of why caveman are the way we are. More importantly, you will see why, once you understand us, we are very important to the society.
And now, without further adoo or adon't, I begin my Caveman Dairy!
I am a caveman, please let me explain...
I am a caveman. You know many guys like me.
I am usually quiet around groups of people.
You think I don't listen to you.
I eat either bland food or bar-b-qued meat.
I can also eat spicy food.
If you put "California Cuisine" in front of me I'll probably ask you, "what's for dinner?"
I work, or I am retired from a job that didn't involve a lot of "group think".
When I watch T.V. that's about all I can do.
I know I know where I am going in my car/truck/suv.
I love to read......westerns, detective stories, military stuff, biographies of other cavemen, porn.
Every green living thing is either a "something kind of tree" or "I don't know the name of that flower".
I can spend hours playing solitare.
I enjoy being around other cavemen.
There will be lots more to learn about me in the future.
Back in the day, cavemen had just two tasks to perform: supply the community with food, and assist in creating more cavebabies. That's it. Those two tasks were the only things we were good at. BUT we HAD to be good at those two things or the community would not survive.
Cavemen supplied the food and assisted in creating more cavebabies. Cavewomen did everything else. We may never know the reason why this was the way it was, but in future posts I will show you why it was so important and how we real cavemen are still pretty much the way we were back then.
I am usually quiet around groups of people.
You think I don't listen to you.
I eat either bland food or bar-b-qued meat.
I can also eat spicy food.
If you put "California Cuisine" in front of me I'll probably ask you, "what's for dinner?"
I work, or I am retired from a job that didn't involve a lot of "group think".
When I watch T.V. that's about all I can do.
I know I know where I am going in my car/truck/suv.
I love to read......westerns, detective stories, military stuff, biographies of other cavemen, porn.
Every green living thing is either a "something kind of tree" or "I don't know the name of that flower".
I can spend hours playing solitare.
I enjoy being around other cavemen.
There will be lots more to learn about me in the future.
Back in the day, cavemen had just two tasks to perform: supply the community with food, and assist in creating more cavebabies. That's it. Those two tasks were the only things we were good at. BUT we HAD to be good at those two things or the community would not survive.
Cavemen supplied the food and assisted in creating more cavebabies. Cavewomen did everything else. We may never know the reason why this was the way it was, but in future posts I will show you why it was so important and how we real cavemen are still pretty much the way we were back then.
The Difference Between Men and Women
So much has been written, studied, argued about, fought over, and every other action concerning this subject, that I thought I would finally reveal the true difference.
Once you internalize the explanation, you will understand. Learning this key difference will aide you in reading and understanding future posts.
I am going to explain the difference between the vast majority of men and the vast majority of women, and I am going to do it with just three sentences. Once you see it, learn it, and realize it, all will be more well in your life, relationships, and future accomplishments.
Are you ready? Please read very carefully the next three sentences.
1. A "something" is any action, emotion, or thought.
2. Most men are "sequential tasking": they do something, THEN they do something else, THEN they do something else.
3 The vast majority of women are "multi-tasking": they do something, AND they do something else, AND they do something else.
See, now wasn't that brilliant! But you always knew it. You just didn't know how to put it into words.
These three differences explain so very much, so very easily. Now that you have read them, you can start seeing those differences in the men and women in your life.
The differences between "THEN" and "AND" are enormous. They were, and still are, life and death differences.
It is now time for you to reflect on this post. You may read the next post which will illuminate you about "sequential tasking" if you like. But I feel that I have given you something you can ponder on before going forward.
Once you internalize the explanation, you will understand. Learning this key difference will aide you in reading and understanding future posts.
I am going to explain the difference between the vast majority of men and the vast majority of women, and I am going to do it with just three sentences. Once you see it, learn it, and realize it, all will be more well in your life, relationships, and future accomplishments.
Are you ready? Please read very carefully the next three sentences.
1. A "something" is any action, emotion, or thought.
2. Most men are "sequential tasking": they do something, THEN they do something else, THEN they do something else.
3 The vast majority of women are "multi-tasking": they do something, AND they do something else, AND they do something else.
See, now wasn't that brilliant! But you always knew it. You just didn't know how to put it into words.
These three differences explain so very much, so very easily. Now that you have read them, you can start seeing those differences in the men and women in your life.
The differences between "THEN" and "AND" are enormous. They were, and still are, life and death differences.
It is now time for you to reflect on this post. You may read the next post which will illuminate you about "sequential tasking" if you like. But I feel that I have given you something you can ponder on before going forward.
The Caveman and "Sequential Tasking"
Remember when I wrote that caveman only had two requirements in the community? I wrote that a caveman's jobs were to supply food to the community and assist in creating more cavebabies. I also wrote about the differences between cavemen and women. Now for a longer explanation.
Cavemen were hunter-gatherers. Their job was to supply the community with food. If the community didn't have food, all would die. So cavemen developed special skills to hunt for and gather the most, and best food for their community.
In the lines below you will see the word, "we". When I write that I am referring to ancient cavemen and modern cavemen, like myself.
Here are some of the traits ancient cavemen had that you still see in us modern cavemen:
Quietness. It's very hard to stalk prey when your conversing with other cavemen. The prey didn't appreciate human voices nearby. Berries, grains, fruits, and vegtables don't have ears, so why talk when you are around them? It just wastes energy need to supply food to the community.
Keen eyesight. Those of us that were the hunters needed to find food sources from great distances.
Sequential task management. Growing food required us to plan, cultivate, gather, and transport food to the community. If we didn't develop the skills needed to grow food, there wouldn't have been a me to write this blog and there wouldn't have been a you to read it.
Concentration on one thing at a time. This trait has gotten us in a whole bunch of trouble with the multi-taskers. They don't understand it. Please let me explain.
When we went out to hunt for prey, we needed total concentration on the task at hand. We HAD to find, kill and transport prey back to the community. So we established plans to seek out, stalk, and kill the food we needed. That concentration required us to sit still for long periods of time, quietly surveying the landscape. We may have had to wait many hours or days to have the opportunity to get the prey. We had to be focused on the task at hand, very focused.
For the gatherers like me, we needed to have a set of guidelines that had to be followed strictly to provide the best food for the community. We had to forego distractions to develop the skills to become farmers and "ranchers".
Engineering skills. To provide food, we had to develope the tools required for the hunt and the sowing. We taught ourselves how to make weapons, not to kill each other, but to kill the prey we needed.
There are more skills we have that are different that cavewomens' skills. More further along in the future.
Cavemen were hunter-gatherers. Their job was to supply the community with food. If the community didn't have food, all would die. So cavemen developed special skills to hunt for and gather the most, and best food for their community.
In the lines below you will see the word, "we". When I write that I am referring to ancient cavemen and modern cavemen, like myself.
Here are some of the traits ancient cavemen had that you still see in us modern cavemen:
Quietness. It's very hard to stalk prey when your conversing with other cavemen. The prey didn't appreciate human voices nearby. Berries, grains, fruits, and vegtables don't have ears, so why talk when you are around them? It just wastes energy need to supply food to the community.
Keen eyesight. Those of us that were the hunters needed to find food sources from great distances.
Sequential task management. Growing food required us to plan, cultivate, gather, and transport food to the community. If we didn't develop the skills needed to grow food, there wouldn't have been a me to write this blog and there wouldn't have been a you to read it.
Concentration on one thing at a time. This trait has gotten us in a whole bunch of trouble with the multi-taskers. They don't understand it. Please let me explain.
When we went out to hunt for prey, we needed total concentration on the task at hand. We HAD to find, kill and transport prey back to the community. So we established plans to seek out, stalk, and kill the food we needed. That concentration required us to sit still for long periods of time, quietly surveying the landscape. We may have had to wait many hours or days to have the opportunity to get the prey. We had to be focused on the task at hand, very focused.
For the gatherers like me, we needed to have a set of guidelines that had to be followed strictly to provide the best food for the community. We had to forego distractions to develop the skills to become farmers and "ranchers".
Engineering skills. To provide food, we had to develope the tools required for the hunt and the sowing. We taught ourselves how to make weapons, not to kill each other, but to kill the prey we needed.
There are more skills we have that are different that cavewomens' skills. More further along in the future.
Why men can't do what women do, part one
I did the best that I could on the title of this post. Probably the more correct title could have been, "Why cavemen can't do what most women do."
I think it is safe to admit that all men are not cavemen. But there sure a heck of a lot of us left on the planet. Most of the cavemen are not gay, BUT I FEEL THERE IS NOTHING WRONG WITH BEING GAY!!! Most gay men seem to have transformed themselves into "multi-tasking" men who have more opportunities than we cavemen at learning to deal with women.
It can also be acknowledged that not all women would fit the "multi-tasking" abilities that cavewomen had. Let's leave that to someone else's blog.
Cavemen don't do what many women can do, not because they won't try, but they simply CAN'T do those many things.
I am always amazed that my wife can read a book and still understand what is happening on the T.V. My wife can talk with me while she is thinking about her library, at the same time she is ironing her clothes for the next day's work.
I will use me as a prime example of a "sequential-tasking" modern caveman for the purposes of explaining why cavemen can't do what most women can do.
If I watch T.V., I use my concentration skills genetically implanted in me to concentrate on the T.V. program. When my wife comes up and asks me something, I don't hear her.
I don't hear her because I can't hear her. A "sequential tasker" like myself can only concentrate on one thing at a time. Remember "do something THEN something else"? My brain is not wired to do more than one thing at a time. Please don't get anywhere near me on the road if I have my earpiece in my ear. When talking on the cell phone and driving, we simply don't have the capacity to do both things at the same time very well at all.
That being written, when I am doing a "something" and only that one thing, I am totally dealing with that one thing and foregoing everything else.
While writing the previous post to this blog, my wife tried to talk to me about one of my other blogs. I lost track of what I was writing because she spoke words I had written and I got very confused. I had to stop writing and talk to her. I lost my concentration, and that is very natural for me.
I hope you take what I have written and try to look at the cavemen in your life and how they interact with you. I am very sure you will see some of the same issues in them that I write about.
I think it is safe to admit that all men are not cavemen. But there sure a heck of a lot of us left on the planet. Most of the cavemen are not gay, BUT I FEEL THERE IS NOTHING WRONG WITH BEING GAY!!! Most gay men seem to have transformed themselves into "multi-tasking" men who have more opportunities than we cavemen at learning to deal with women.
It can also be acknowledged that not all women would fit the "multi-tasking" abilities that cavewomen had. Let's leave that to someone else's blog.
Cavemen don't do what many women can do, not because they won't try, but they simply CAN'T do those many things.
I am always amazed that my wife can read a book and still understand what is happening on the T.V. My wife can talk with me while she is thinking about her library, at the same time she is ironing her clothes for the next day's work.
I will use me as a prime example of a "sequential-tasking" modern caveman for the purposes of explaining why cavemen can't do what most women can do.
If I watch T.V., I use my concentration skills genetically implanted in me to concentrate on the T.V. program. When my wife comes up and asks me something, I don't hear her.
I don't hear her because I can't hear her. A "sequential tasker" like myself can only concentrate on one thing at a time. Remember "do something THEN something else"? My brain is not wired to do more than one thing at a time. Please don't get anywhere near me on the road if I have my earpiece in my ear. When talking on the cell phone and driving, we simply don't have the capacity to do both things at the same time very well at all.
That being written, when I am doing a "something" and only that one thing, I am totally dealing with that one thing and foregoing everything else.
While writing the previous post to this blog, my wife tried to talk to me about one of my other blogs. I lost track of what I was writing because she spoke words I had written and I got very confused. I had to stop writing and talk to her. I lost my concentration, and that is very natural for me.
I hope you take what I have written and try to look at the cavemen in your life and how they interact with you. I am very sure you will see some of the same issues in them that I write about.
Why Cavemen are competitive
Think about it. You have to feed your community. You need to bring in the best harvest. If you aren't the best, cavepeople will suffer.
How to you kill the most, find the best, and carry the most? Simple, be the best.
Competition. Originally in my essays I wrote that cavemen weren't necessarily competitive. I changed my point of view will looking closely at "Type A" males, which I am not one of.
I looked particularly at the financial sector in our modern world. I learned about men who use other people's money to make more money for themselves. These cavemen were driven to achieve a simple goal; more is better. These fellas had high levels of concentration about the topic of making money. "The guy who has the most toys, wins."
The hunter who brings in the most food helps his community the best. The farmer who grows the biggest crops is also the hero in the community.
The only way to be the best is to compete. It doesn't matter if your competing to find the next medicine to cure a disease or hitting the most home runs. Cavemen compete to provide the best for themselves and others.
Is competition a major trait a caveman has? I think probably, yes. In early cavedom, cavemen did what they could to provide and assist in creating more cavebabies. With the ever increasing successes of the creating angle came the need to provide more food for the community. More mouths to feed, the more food needed. In time, I feel, cavemen within a community began competing to see who could provide the most food or assist in creating the most cavebabies.
Some competition is more obvious than others. I was never the fastest, best looking, most adroit, or smartest. But I can usually get at least a chuckle out of just about everyone. My competitive trait is to be funnier than the next caveman. I also competed, unknowingly to most others, to be the best technician in the work I do. Did I succeed at either competitions? I can make folks laugh and I can fix communication devices quite well.
So yes, another trait of being a caveman is competition.
How to you kill the most, find the best, and carry the most? Simple, be the best.
Competition. Originally in my essays I wrote that cavemen weren't necessarily competitive. I changed my point of view will looking closely at "Type A" males, which I am not one of.
I looked particularly at the financial sector in our modern world. I learned about men who use other people's money to make more money for themselves. These cavemen were driven to achieve a simple goal; more is better. These fellas had high levels of concentration about the topic of making money. "The guy who has the most toys, wins."
The hunter who brings in the most food helps his community the best. The farmer who grows the biggest crops is also the hero in the community.
The only way to be the best is to compete. It doesn't matter if your competing to find the next medicine to cure a disease or hitting the most home runs. Cavemen compete to provide the best for themselves and others.
Is competition a major trait a caveman has? I think probably, yes. In early cavedom, cavemen did what they could to provide and assist in creating more cavebabies. With the ever increasing successes of the creating angle came the need to provide more food for the community. More mouths to feed, the more food needed. In time, I feel, cavemen within a community began competing to see who could provide the most food or assist in creating the most cavebabies.
Some competition is more obvious than others. I was never the fastest, best looking, most adroit, or smartest. But I can usually get at least a chuckle out of just about everyone. My competitive trait is to be funnier than the next caveman. I also competed, unknowingly to most others, to be the best technician in the work I do. Did I succeed at either competitions? I can make folks laugh and I can fix communication devices quite well.
So yes, another trait of being a caveman is competition.
Cavemen and Religion
Now here is where I may get into trouble. If you dream about it, you just might see it.
As cavemen progressed, time passed, and skills were honed, communication began.
Picture a group of cavemen walking toward a place they think there will be great prey to hunt. What do you imagine they talked about? They probably talked about life in the community, who was the best hunter, and what should they do when they returned home. (insert create more cavebabies here.)
At some point in the early history, different communities of cavemen began wondering about life and why they thought and communicated differently that other creatures. In there talking they probably learned the each of them had two common questions that all senescent humans have or are told: "Why am I here?" "Is this all there is?"
Religion was invented to answer the two basic questions that humans had when they began to think for themselves, all the way through to every thinking person on the planet, today.
I can imagine that small groups of cavemen began to ponder these questions and try to understand why they all had the same questions. Perhaps a particular caveman came up with answers the other cavemen liked and presto, the first minister is found. I bet that since the other cavemen gave high regard to the caveman that answered the questions that most pleased the others, that caveman was considered more of a leader. When this new leader was acknowledged, then he was given high status in the community and others began to seek his counsel.
"STOP! STOP! STOP, M what about religion and cavewomen?
Remember when I wrote that the difference between cavemen and cavewomen was between "THEN" and "AND"? Cavewomen had to do everything else in the community that Cavemen couldn't or wouldn't do. I don't think cavewomen had the time to consider the two questions, even though, they were probably on the minds of the cavewomen, too
Here is a list of some of the duties of cavewomen that were definitely or probably not shared by cavemen who were out hunting or gathering most of the time:
Bare and raise cavebabies
Provide shelter, clothing, water, and firewood for the community.
prepare and serve the food the cavemen brought to the community.
Learn and share skills with other cavewomen all at the same time they were caring for cavebabies.
Teach the cavedaughters the skills they would need in the community.
Everything else the cavemen didn't do.
Cavewomen did all of this all at the same time.
So you see, cavemen are "sequential tasking": they do something, THEN they do something else, THEN they do something else. Most women are "Multi-tasking": the do something, AND they do something else, AND they do something else. (If you are new to this, look at a post lower on the blog or in archives, please.)
Cavewomen couldn't take the time to ponder religion during their extremely busy day. Cavemen sometimes stayed at the same hunt site for days and had the time to ponder albeit very quietly.
As cavemen progressed, time passed, and skills were honed, communication began.
Picture a group of cavemen walking toward a place they think there will be great prey to hunt. What do you imagine they talked about? They probably talked about life in the community, who was the best hunter, and what should they do when they returned home. (insert create more cavebabies here.)
At some point in the early history, different communities of cavemen began wondering about life and why they thought and communicated differently that other creatures. In there talking they probably learned the each of them had two common questions that all senescent humans have or are told: "Why am I here?" "Is this all there is?"
Religion was invented to answer the two basic questions that humans had when they began to think for themselves, all the way through to every thinking person on the planet, today.
I can imagine that small groups of cavemen began to ponder these questions and try to understand why they all had the same questions. Perhaps a particular caveman came up with answers the other cavemen liked and presto, the first minister is found. I bet that since the other cavemen gave high regard to the caveman that answered the questions that most pleased the others, that caveman was considered more of a leader. When this new leader was acknowledged, then he was given high status in the community and others began to seek his counsel.
"STOP! STOP! STOP, M what about religion and cavewomen?
Remember when I wrote that the difference between cavemen and cavewomen was between "THEN" and "AND"? Cavewomen had to do everything else in the community that Cavemen couldn't or wouldn't do. I don't think cavewomen had the time to consider the two questions, even though, they were probably on the minds of the cavewomen, too
Here is a list of some of the duties of cavewomen that were definitely or probably not shared by cavemen who were out hunting or gathering most of the time:
Bare and raise cavebabies
Provide shelter, clothing, water, and firewood for the community.
prepare and serve the food the cavemen brought to the community.
Learn and share skills with other cavewomen all at the same time they were caring for cavebabies.
Teach the cavedaughters the skills they would need in the community.
Everything else the cavemen didn't do.
Cavewomen did all of this all at the same time.
So you see, cavemen are "sequential tasking": they do something, THEN they do something else, THEN they do something else. Most women are "Multi-tasking": the do something, AND they do something else, AND they do something else. (If you are new to this, look at a post lower on the blog or in archives, please.)
Cavewomen couldn't take the time to ponder religion during their extremely busy day. Cavemen sometimes stayed at the same hunt site for days and had the time to ponder albeit very quietly.
Fashion? You are Kidding?
Cavemen and fashion. Hopefully this is the only time you will ever see those two words so close together.
We have no fashion sense. This one, seemingly small fact, gets us in more trouble than you can imagine.
How many of you have asked a caveman, Do I look fat in this outfit? Did you like the response?
The response was either a lie or a veiled attempt to attract you to the events dealing with the creation of cavebabies. If our answer was the truth, we probably had to spend the next several nights on a couch, far away from the cavebaby creation process.
We have no fashion sense. It is not our fault. We didn't need to care what size you looked to be, we just needed to learn that the bigger prey was the better prey. We are still, pretty much clueless to the specter of fashion. If that is being genetically impaired to you, then, so be it.
We do like colors, though. The more you look like an animal or a plant, the more we are attracted to you. Again, it is in our nature. If you look like the food we want to gather, there is a better chance of attracting us. See how utterly simple we are?
Why do you think Carmen Miranda wore those fruity hats and colorful costumes? You saw a singing and dancing queen. We saw dinner.
One of my two sons is not a caveman. He is a straight male, like many other non-cavemen, who does have a fashion sense. Sometimes when it is time for me to pick clothes other than blue jeans and polo shirts, I take him along to pick out the clothes that he and my wife think I would look good in. I don't particularly care what they pick out, as long as it is comfortable.
My other son is a caveman. He and I share our lack of care in fashion. He is one more reason I think I am a gatherer and not a hunter caveman. I must have passed his color sense down to him. His favorite color is green. He has been attracted to the many shades of green all his life. Above all other colors, the kid picks green. Cave-daughter-in-law now picks his clothes.
Please people, if you ask a caveman their opinion about what you are wearing, accept their comment that they have no opinion. They truly don't care much of the time what your clothes look like or how you fit into them. Unless of course, you look like an animal or plant!
We have no fashion sense. This one, seemingly small fact, gets us in more trouble than you can imagine.
How many of you have asked a caveman, Do I look fat in this outfit? Did you like the response?
The response was either a lie or a veiled attempt to attract you to the events dealing with the creation of cavebabies. If our answer was the truth, we probably had to spend the next several nights on a couch, far away from the cavebaby creation process.
We have no fashion sense. It is not our fault. We didn't need to care what size you looked to be, we just needed to learn that the bigger prey was the better prey. We are still, pretty much clueless to the specter of fashion. If that is being genetically impaired to you, then, so be it.
We do like colors, though. The more you look like an animal or a plant, the more we are attracted to you. Again, it is in our nature. If you look like the food we want to gather, there is a better chance of attracting us. See how utterly simple we are?
Why do you think Carmen Miranda wore those fruity hats and colorful costumes? You saw a singing and dancing queen. We saw dinner.
One of my two sons is not a caveman. He is a straight male, like many other non-cavemen, who does have a fashion sense. Sometimes when it is time for me to pick clothes other than blue jeans and polo shirts, I take him along to pick out the clothes that he and my wife think I would look good in. I don't particularly care what they pick out, as long as it is comfortable.
My other son is a caveman. He and I share our lack of care in fashion. He is one more reason I think I am a gatherer and not a hunter caveman. I must have passed his color sense down to him. His favorite color is green. He has been attracted to the many shades of green all his life. Above all other colors, the kid picks green. Cave-daughter-in-law now picks his clothes.
Please people, if you ask a caveman their opinion about what you are wearing, accept their comment that they have no opinion. They truly don't care much of the time what your clothes look like or how you fit into them. Unless of course, you look like an animal or plant!
Dairy entry for Sunday October 8, 2006
I've finally been caught.
It took my Uncle Chuck to catch me. He is a caveman. He is of the hunter type. He fishes.
His keen eye and sense of correctness led him to be the first one to post the question; Why "Dairy?'
As I am sure you all know, cavemen don't really care about spelling. We have better things to do than consider whether you can read out writing or not. Have you ever met a caveman who can spell worth a darn without spellcheck? Neither have I.
Of course the more correct name for this blog should be "Caveman Diary" but it is both a play on words and an admonition that we cavemen don't spell very well. We didn't need to back then and I can prove we don't really need to now.
You see, if you can raed tihs snetnece esaliy, tehn you can udnresantd how we can raed whtiuot hvanig all the ltetres in the crorcet oeedr. We olny need the frist and lsat ltetres crorcet and we can raed fialry wlel. So selplnig is not so ipmrotnat to us.
I did a good Caveman deed today. After we took the girls for a walk along the coast, I went with my wife to the Southcoast Botanical Gardens. She marveled at all the plants and was curius about their names. I suggested to her that they were either members of the greenleafy boringus family, or the colori flowerus group. If the trees didn't have fruit in them they were all tallus-trunki boringus.
During this visit to the gardens there was a Jaguar car show on the lawn area. You wouldn't believe all the rich cavemen strutting their stuff and their cars named after very fast prey. Think about it,some of the most popular cars are named after animals/food. Cougar, Jaquar, Ram, Ramcharger, Viper, Cobra, Mustang, Firebird, and a host of others. All the cavemen who brought also wore very colorless clothes, and they all pretty much looked alike.
I have been thinking about all the things cavemen cannot do very well. I think I will include items as I ponder them, further along this blog-path. Being close to plants and flowers today, I thought of a thing that a caveman is not fit to do. We can't arrange flowers or plants. To us, they are food. To non-cavepeople, arranged flowers and plants are wonderfull to look at and pleasant to the emotions, I think. If I can't eat it, why arrange it?
It took my Uncle Chuck to catch me. He is a caveman. He is of the hunter type. He fishes.
His keen eye and sense of correctness led him to be the first one to post the question; Why "Dairy?'
As I am sure you all know, cavemen don't really care about spelling. We have better things to do than consider whether you can read out writing or not. Have you ever met a caveman who can spell worth a darn without spellcheck? Neither have I.
Of course the more correct name for this blog should be "Caveman Diary" but it is both a play on words and an admonition that we cavemen don't spell very well. We didn't need to back then and I can prove we don't really need to now.
You see, if you can raed tihs snetnece esaliy, tehn you can udnresantd how we can raed whtiuot hvanig all the ltetres in the crorcet oeedr. We olny need the frist and lsat ltetres crorcet and we can raed fialry wlel. So selplnig is not so ipmrotnat to us.
I did a good Caveman deed today. After we took the girls for a walk along the coast, I went with my wife to the Southcoast Botanical Gardens. She marveled at all the plants and was curius about their names. I suggested to her that they were either members of the greenleafy boringus family, or the colori flowerus group. If the trees didn't have fruit in them they were all tallus-trunki boringus.
During this visit to the gardens there was a Jaguar car show on the lawn area. You wouldn't believe all the rich cavemen strutting their stuff and their cars named after very fast prey. Think about it,some of the most popular cars are named after animals/food. Cougar, Jaquar, Ram, Ramcharger, Viper, Cobra, Mustang, Firebird, and a host of others. All the cavemen who brought also wore very colorless clothes, and they all pretty much looked alike.
I have been thinking about all the things cavemen cannot do very well. I think I will include items as I ponder them, further along this blog-path. Being close to plants and flowers today, I thought of a thing that a caveman is not fit to do. We can't arrange flowers or plants. To us, they are food. To non-cavepeople, arranged flowers and plants are wonderfull to look at and pleasant to the emotions, I think. If I can't eat it, why arrange it?
The Cave, Part One
Every Caveman needs a cave. This is an undeniable fact. It is as true as any other fact you know.
The sun is the center of our solar system. Cavemen need caves.
One plus One equals Two. A Caveman must have a cave. Get the picture?
Of course you do. All of your life around a caveman, you have witnessed his efforts to find and keep at least one cave wherever he lives.
A cave is where a caveman goes to relax and contemplate the day's hunt or the harvest he works hare to gather. The cave is where a caveman is most comfortable. His cave must not be shared by non-cavemen or most women in his life, (unless that caveman and the woman are dealing with aspects of his assistance in creating cavebabies).
Our cave is the center of our world. We must return to our cave to refresh our spirit and gather the strength for future hunts, more cultivation, and entertaining thoughts and plans to assist in the creation of more cavebabies.
Growing up, my caveman-dad had his cave. It was a vinyl recliner that sat in the corner of the living room. It was his one spot in the entire world that he could just relax and deal with life. As the years went by, his cave would need replacing. Replacing caves is one of the few area where men actually enjoy shopping. I think "Archie Bunker's" cave is still in the Smithsonian.
Other cavemen have caves with four wheels, more or less. Sometimes they spend tremendous amounts of money purchasing, restoring, and showing them. This is another aspect of cavemen in competition.
My cave is the same room I grew up in for 12 years. When I was nine, our house got an addition and I got my own bedroom. Cave-dad had his chair, I got my room. When I moved back into the house at the age of 43, I naturally put my cave-stuff in the same room. I didn't even think of putting in the larger of the two front bedrooms.
My wife has learned what all wives of cavemen learn: don't mess with a cave. A caveman need complete control of his cave. Wives can have almost the entire rest of the house, just don't mess with the cave. Unless the caveman grants you access to or use of part of the cave, please, for the sake of lessening the amount of stress in the family, leave his cave alone.
A garage or workshop is most certainly the cave of many cavemen. While walking our dogs around the neighborhood, we always see the same caveman in his garage, every single night. The garage door is always open and the caveman is doing nothing or doing something or conversing with other caveman neighbors.
Cavemen are more comfortable sharing their cave with another caveman or cavebaby.
My Caveson had his cave in any tree he could climb. When he was little he had to share his home and bedroom with my non-caveson. So caveson could usually be found in a tree, contemplating things or just watching the world go by.
Caves can be places or things. I am sure many of you who know cavemen know that a particularly wonderful cave has usually a white ceramic stool-like structure that contains water and can be flushed. Many, many cavemen consider this place to be their secret, or hide-a-way cave. Let the world rush forward as a caveman takes his time in that type of cave.
All of you who know real cavemen inherently know about their caves. You have had to deal with them, and support their need for their cave.
I shall ponder more and write about this most important topic in the future.
The sun is the center of our solar system. Cavemen need caves.
One plus One equals Two. A Caveman must have a cave. Get the picture?
Of course you do. All of your life around a caveman, you have witnessed his efforts to find and keep at least one cave wherever he lives.
A cave is where a caveman goes to relax and contemplate the day's hunt or the harvest he works hare to gather. The cave is where a caveman is most comfortable. His cave must not be shared by non-cavemen or most women in his life, (unless that caveman and the woman are dealing with aspects of his assistance in creating cavebabies).
Our cave is the center of our world. We must return to our cave to refresh our spirit and gather the strength for future hunts, more cultivation, and entertaining thoughts and plans to assist in the creation of more cavebabies.
Growing up, my caveman-dad had his cave. It was a vinyl recliner that sat in the corner of the living room. It was his one spot in the entire world that he could just relax and deal with life. As the years went by, his cave would need replacing. Replacing caves is one of the few area where men actually enjoy shopping. I think "Archie Bunker's" cave is still in the Smithsonian.
Other cavemen have caves with four wheels, more or less. Sometimes they spend tremendous amounts of money purchasing, restoring, and showing them. This is another aspect of cavemen in competition.
My cave is the same room I grew up in for 12 years. When I was nine, our house got an addition and I got my own bedroom. Cave-dad had his chair, I got my room. When I moved back into the house at the age of 43, I naturally put my cave-stuff in the same room. I didn't even think of putting in the larger of the two front bedrooms.
My wife has learned what all wives of cavemen learn: don't mess with a cave. A caveman need complete control of his cave. Wives can have almost the entire rest of the house, just don't mess with the cave. Unless the caveman grants you access to or use of part of the cave, please, for the sake of lessening the amount of stress in the family, leave his cave alone.
A garage or workshop is most certainly the cave of many cavemen. While walking our dogs around the neighborhood, we always see the same caveman in his garage, every single night. The garage door is always open and the caveman is doing nothing or doing something or conversing with other caveman neighbors.
Cavemen are more comfortable sharing their cave with another caveman or cavebaby.
My Caveson had his cave in any tree he could climb. When he was little he had to share his home and bedroom with my non-caveson. So caveson could usually be found in a tree, contemplating things or just watching the world go by.
Caves can be places or things. I am sure many of you who know cavemen know that a particularly wonderful cave has usually a white ceramic stool-like structure that contains water and can be flushed. Many, many cavemen consider this place to be their secret, or hide-a-way cave. Let the world rush forward as a caveman takes his time in that type of cave.
All of you who know real cavemen inherently know about their caves. You have had to deal with them, and support their need for their cave.
I shall ponder more and write about this most important topic in the future.
On The Telephone
Cavemen can work on the telephone, but most of us hate being on the telephone.
Sure, when we were younger we may have spent many hours talking on the phone to females in our unending attempts to assist in the creation of cavebabies.
I have worked in the communications industry for almost 26 years. In the U.S.A.F., I spent my enlistment dealing with communication devises. I just hate using them.
I think I hate the phone bell more than I hate the alarm to get up. The alarm lets me know that it is time to begin my hunt or my gathering. Didn't you cavemen just love the sound of the alarm when it was time to get out of bed to go fishing, hunting, or camping. The added benefit to that alarm also meant, in the old days, your best excuse to get away from the phone.
I'd rather climb a pole or go down into a manhole than talk to someone on the phone about climbing up a pole or down into a manhole.
After I secured the affections of my wife, the telephone became an anchor to the progress of attempting to assist in the creation of cavebabies. We have all had experiences where we were involved in the assistance processes and then "ring, ring, ring". The telephone would usually sound the end of our efforts, many times, for the entire evening.
Of course, there is something worse than the telephone....the doorbell!
Sure, when we were younger we may have spent many hours talking on the phone to females in our unending attempts to assist in the creation of cavebabies.
I have worked in the communications industry for almost 26 years. In the U.S.A.F., I spent my enlistment dealing with communication devises. I just hate using them.
I think I hate the phone bell more than I hate the alarm to get up. The alarm lets me know that it is time to begin my hunt or my gathering. Didn't you cavemen just love the sound of the alarm when it was time to get out of bed to go fishing, hunting, or camping. The added benefit to that alarm also meant, in the old days, your best excuse to get away from the phone.
I'd rather climb a pole or go down into a manhole than talk to someone on the phone about climbing up a pole or down into a manhole.
After I secured the affections of my wife, the telephone became an anchor to the progress of attempting to assist in the creation of cavebabies. We have all had experiences where we were involved in the assistance processes and then "ring, ring, ring". The telephone would usually sound the end of our efforts, many times, for the entire evening.
Of course, there is something worse than the telephone....the doorbell!
My Father's Caves
My dad had many caves. In his youth, and trying to avoid being around his own cavedad, my father found comfort with cars and motorcycles. He often spoke about the cars he would some how acquire, beginning when he was about 14-years old. Whether running or not, cars were my dad's first caves.
Marriage to my mom brought my dad to the facts that dealing with a cave-car usually meant that he had to be apart from the assisting in the creating cavebabies thing. Hence, the reclining chair, in the corner of the living room, of his then-two bedroom home. It was probably much more comfortable than any car or motorcycle seat, and in close proximity to my parents bedroom and...
After the accomplishments of my father's attempts at assisting in the creation of cavebabies, he once again returned to vehicles to possibly avoid the requirements implied on him by my mother to assist in raising the cavebabies he assisted in the creation of. Lots of true cavemen try for some time to avoid the raising of the cavebabies. In my case is worked pretty darn well for my father as you will read further down. I never really felt the way my father felt and I was, and still very much involved with my, extremely brilliant, wonderfully talented, ridiculously good looking, and very loving sons.
When I was about 5-years old, my dad brought home a 1935 Ford Pick-up truck. For the next several years my father accomplished what is called a "frame-off" restoration. There is a picture of my sister and I standing in the middle of the freshly painted frame setting on our driveway.
When my dad wasn't at work, in his recliner, pouring the concrete for the many slabs in our backyard, or attempting to assist, you know what I mean, he was working on the truck.
My dad did take us camping while he did the other things. That is a perfectly normal thing for a real caveman to do. He also fished, so he gathered.
During the time of the 1935 Ford, my dad used a variety of cars to get to and from work. My mom had a used 1955 Ford station wagon, until she got our first brand car. It was a 1962, baby blue, four door, Ford Falcon. She got the new car because she was starting her student teaching a school some distance away from our home AND she did an unthinkable thing shortly before we got the new car.
Mom drove herself to Cal State Long Beach to finish her classes that led to her teaching credential. On day my dad came home from work and found the front fender and grill dented on the old 1955 station wagon. My dad learned that my mom had did the unthinkable...she hit a beer truck. Cavemen drink beer. It probably would have been less troublesome to my father if my mother had driven into a Sunday school classroom, filled with kids and parents. But she hit a beer truck. Oh my!
With that incident finally cleared, my dad finished his truck and let it sit in our one-car garage while the brand new Ford rested in the driveway. Then, the pick-up was sold and my dad bought a used 1962 Ford Econoline van he painted.....green.
The van was then his ultimate escape vehicle to visit what was to become his largest cave. As a boy my cavedad would take his caveson on trips to the desert for many reasons. He was able to get away from the house on his day off, usually a Thursday when I was "sick". from school. He was also taking the trip to scope out locations for a new cave. He was also able to drink beer during his drive. On one of these trips, my dad decided Lucerne Valley, in the Mojave Desert might be a good place of a new cave. First he bought 10 acres that he contemplated building a house on. After some years of no progress, he found and bought a house on three acres of land just off the main road.
The Lucerne Valley cave was bigger than our regular home that had grown to three-bedrooms when I was nine-years old. The L.V. house had three bedrooms, too. But it also had a fireplace in the living room, a dining room, a den with another fireplace, and it all came with a concrete pool behind the home. This cave would become my fathers cave for the next decade and a half.
My dad would go to his giant cave three our of four sets of off days he had from work. In time, the old recliner in our living room vanished and my dad got a new recliner for his ultimate cave.
After my dad retired from work, he sold his Lucerne Valley cave and moved to Mexico. He had long since given up on dealing with his cavekids and he no longer seemed interested in assisting in anything, more or less. He seemed very happy first in one of those converted trailers, placed in an all-American enclave, along the coast of Baja. His final Mexico cave what the brightest yellow house on a hill just before you drove south into Ensanada, on the Cota Road. Folks could see that thing for miles. It stood out like a ripe banana surrounded by bunches of blackened fruit and sage brush.
I brought my cavedad home, with the assistance of my own caveson in about 1998. Dad was injecting Insulin and not getting along too well south of the border. My wife and I took him to our local furniture store for him to pick out the brand new furniture for his apartment in town.
He walked around the store and pointed at almost ever piece of furniture he wanted purchased, without so much as a second glance. Tables, sofas, a bed, dining furniture, lamps, T.V. stand, all were selected almost instantly.
But you already know that one piece of furniture selected needed to be tried out, carefully selected, color coordinated, easily workable, and ultimately, the most comfortable. Go ahead, say it....I don't need to.
Marriage to my mom brought my dad to the facts that dealing with a cave-car usually meant that he had to be apart from the assisting in the creating cavebabies thing. Hence, the reclining chair, in the corner of the living room, of his then-two bedroom home. It was probably much more comfortable than any car or motorcycle seat, and in close proximity to my parents bedroom and...
After the accomplishments of my father's attempts at assisting in the creation of cavebabies, he once again returned to vehicles to possibly avoid the requirements implied on him by my mother to assist in raising the cavebabies he assisted in the creation of. Lots of true cavemen try for some time to avoid the raising of the cavebabies. In my case is worked pretty darn well for my father as you will read further down. I never really felt the way my father felt and I was, and still very much involved with my, extremely brilliant, wonderfully talented, ridiculously good looking, and very loving sons.
When I was about 5-years old, my dad brought home a 1935 Ford Pick-up truck. For the next several years my father accomplished what is called a "frame-off" restoration. There is a picture of my sister and I standing in the middle of the freshly painted frame setting on our driveway.
When my dad wasn't at work, in his recliner, pouring the concrete for the many slabs in our backyard, or attempting to assist, you know what I mean, he was working on the truck.
My dad did take us camping while he did the other things. That is a perfectly normal thing for a real caveman to do. He also fished, so he gathered.
During the time of the 1935 Ford, my dad used a variety of cars to get to and from work. My mom had a used 1955 Ford station wagon, until she got our first brand car. It was a 1962, baby blue, four door, Ford Falcon. She got the new car because she was starting her student teaching a school some distance away from our home AND she did an unthinkable thing shortly before we got the new car.
Mom drove herself to Cal State Long Beach to finish her classes that led to her teaching credential. On day my dad came home from work and found the front fender and grill dented on the old 1955 station wagon. My dad learned that my mom had did the unthinkable...she hit a beer truck. Cavemen drink beer. It probably would have been less troublesome to my father if my mother had driven into a Sunday school classroom, filled with kids and parents. But she hit a beer truck. Oh my!
With that incident finally cleared, my dad finished his truck and let it sit in our one-car garage while the brand new Ford rested in the driveway. Then, the pick-up was sold and my dad bought a used 1962 Ford Econoline van he painted.....green.
The van was then his ultimate escape vehicle to visit what was to become his largest cave. As a boy my cavedad would take his caveson on trips to the desert for many reasons. He was able to get away from the house on his day off, usually a Thursday when I was "sick". from school. He was also taking the trip to scope out locations for a new cave. He was also able to drink beer during his drive. On one of these trips, my dad decided Lucerne Valley, in the Mojave Desert might be a good place of a new cave. First he bought 10 acres that he contemplated building a house on. After some years of no progress, he found and bought a house on three acres of land just off the main road.
The Lucerne Valley cave was bigger than our regular home that had grown to three-bedrooms when I was nine-years old. The L.V. house had three bedrooms, too. But it also had a fireplace in the living room, a dining room, a den with another fireplace, and it all came with a concrete pool behind the home. This cave would become my fathers cave for the next decade and a half.
My dad would go to his giant cave three our of four sets of off days he had from work. In time, the old recliner in our living room vanished and my dad got a new recliner for his ultimate cave.
After my dad retired from work, he sold his Lucerne Valley cave and moved to Mexico. He had long since given up on dealing with his cavekids and he no longer seemed interested in assisting in anything, more or less. He seemed very happy first in one of those converted trailers, placed in an all-American enclave, along the coast of Baja. His final Mexico cave what the brightest yellow house on a hill just before you drove south into Ensanada, on the Cota Road. Folks could see that thing for miles. It stood out like a ripe banana surrounded by bunches of blackened fruit and sage brush.
I brought my cavedad home, with the assistance of my own caveson in about 1998. Dad was injecting Insulin and not getting along too well south of the border. My wife and I took him to our local furniture store for him to pick out the brand new furniture for his apartment in town.
He walked around the store and pointed at almost ever piece of furniture he wanted purchased, without so much as a second glance. Tables, sofas, a bed, dining furniture, lamps, T.V. stand, all were selected almost instantly.
But you already know that one piece of furniture selected needed to be tried out, carefully selected, color coordinated, easily workable, and ultimately, the most comfortable. Go ahead, say it....I don't need to.
Cavemen and Written Instructions
Bicycles, cribs, swing sets, cameras, computer systems, hobby items, and cavemen "toys." They all have one thing in common...written instructions.
Do cavemen follow the written instructions? I just left the area blank because you filled in the answer in your head.
Cavemen know that written instructions for things were written by other cavemen who used their high level of sequential tasking to write a step-by-step set of instruction to be followed in order to assemble or use the item the written instructions were packaged with.
Cavemen, being inherently sequential-tasking themselves, find it naturally needless to follow instruction written by other cavemen. Our mind tells us that written instructions are meant for multi-taskers to use to understand how something should be assembled or used.
Cavemen simply think they see the finished item fully assembled and take it apart in their mind until it looks like the many pieces just removed from the packaging. Once disassembled in their mind, they simply try to put it back together. One of the problems is is that we cavemen tend to only see the big pieces and forgo thought of the little things like nuts, bolts, and washers.
Does not reading instructions lead to problems? Again, I need not waste keystrokes to put your answer on this blog.
When I was a young father, I used to build radio controlled vehicles for myself and my sons. Once I was able to put the things together, we had a great time running them around our neighborhood and crashing into things. I usually tried to pick the easiest models to build because it meant I didn't need to use the instruction books. I was pretty good until I got a mid-engine, four-wheel drive model. That one stayed in the box for quite some time before I let caveson build it. Reading instructions are such a bore.
When Caveson was eleven, and we had wrecked, very happily I might add, just about every radio controlled vehicle we played with, he came to me with the desire to built an electric radio controlled helicopter. Now this was testing time for me. We got the "Whisper" helicopter with the notion that we would work on it together. And we did. I tried my darnedest to help him build his project by using written instructions as little as possible. I didn't do so well. Caveson knew at his young age that he didn't have the knowledge at the time to ignore the instructions, like I thought I had. He read the instructions and completed his helicopter. It flew. Just a little. But it flew long enough and high enough for caveson to be happy and me to be so proud of him. He quickly tired of his finished helicopter and moved on to other projects.
My caveson and my non-caveson tried to teach me a valuable lesson. Read the instructions. Alas I am still a caveman. Cavemen write instructions for non-cavemen. Now how do I get the video I recorded on my still camera to play back? Oh-oh, I might have to read the instructions.
Do cavemen follow the written instructions? I just left the area blank because you filled in the answer in your head.
Cavemen know that written instructions for things were written by other cavemen who used their high level of sequential tasking to write a step-by-step set of instruction to be followed in order to assemble or use the item the written instructions were packaged with.
Cavemen, being inherently sequential-tasking themselves, find it naturally needless to follow instruction written by other cavemen. Our mind tells us that written instructions are meant for multi-taskers to use to understand how something should be assembled or used.
Cavemen simply think they see the finished item fully assembled and take it apart in their mind until it looks like the many pieces just removed from the packaging. Once disassembled in their mind, they simply try to put it back together. One of the problems is is that we cavemen tend to only see the big pieces and forgo thought of the little things like nuts, bolts, and washers.
Does not reading instructions lead to problems? Again, I need not waste keystrokes to put your answer on this blog.
When I was a young father, I used to build radio controlled vehicles for myself and my sons. Once I was able to put the things together, we had a great time running them around our neighborhood and crashing into things. I usually tried to pick the easiest models to build because it meant I didn't need to use the instruction books. I was pretty good until I got a mid-engine, four-wheel drive model. That one stayed in the box for quite some time before I let caveson build it. Reading instructions are such a bore.
When Caveson was eleven, and we had wrecked, very happily I might add, just about every radio controlled vehicle we played with, he came to me with the desire to built an electric radio controlled helicopter. Now this was testing time for me. We got the "Whisper" helicopter with the notion that we would work on it together. And we did. I tried my darnedest to help him build his project by using written instructions as little as possible. I didn't do so well. Caveson knew at his young age that he didn't have the knowledge at the time to ignore the instructions, like I thought I had. He read the instructions and completed his helicopter. It flew. Just a little. But it flew long enough and high enough for caveson to be happy and me to be so proud of him. He quickly tired of his finished helicopter and moved on to other projects.
My caveson and my non-caveson tried to teach me a valuable lesson. Read the instructions. Alas I am still a caveman. Cavemen write instructions for non-cavemen. Now how do I get the video I recorded on my still camera to play back? Oh-oh, I might have to read the instructions.
Sometimes a Caveman's Mind Wanders
Many cavemen can sit for hours just thinking. Many of our thoughts are not understandable by non-cavemen, and most certainly by most women.
For me, I call it "pondering." Perhaps I see something that makes me think about things. Sometimes I finally grasp a bizarre concept and try to see if it relates to reality.
I am going to share an example how this particular Caveman can view something so seemingly natural and common, but with pondering, find it completely foreign and not-understandable.
My wife and I were a Costco, a giant warehouse type store, and we wandered through the newly placed Christmas stuff and toys. As I pass a small plastic Santa Claus, a song came out of him:
"Dashing through the snow,
in a one-horse open sleigh.
O'er the fields we go,
laughing all the way.
Bells on bobbed tails ring,
making spirits bright.
Oh, what fun it is to sing
a sleighing song tonight."
You all should know the song; "Jingle Bells."
As I heard the song coming out of the plastic, jiggling Santa, I stopped.
"Wait a minute." I said to my wife. I again went back to the jolly looking doll to watch it wiggle and have that song coming from it. Something was very wrong about Santa singing "Jingle Bells."
I pondered. When I got home, I pondered more. Santa Claus has no business singing "Jingle Bells." It is a song that the "right jolly old elf" has anything to do with. Please consider the following;
Santa doesn't "dash through snow", he flies over it.
No "one horse" can pull his sleigh. He needs eight trained Reindeer.
I will admit Santa does go "o'er the fields", but he is usually alone when he flies over them.
I hope Santa is always in a good mood on Christmas Eve and he laughs a lot. But I don't imagine he laughs "all the way."
It is much easier, I believe, to bob a horse's tail than a reindeer's tail, and there has never been an illustration of any bells on any bobbed tails of Dasher, Dancer, Prancer, Vixen, Comet, Cupid, Donner, or Blitzen.
Yes, it might be fun for folks to sing sleighing songs, but according to "A Visit From Saint Nick",
Santa was not witnessed singing anything.
So to me, the idea of Santa Claus riding with another person, in a one-horse sleigh, making lots of noise by singing and having bells on the horse's tail ring doesn't seem plausible. Sure he may do it on another night other than Christmas Eve, but to have anyone believe that "Jingle Bells" has anything to do with Santa Claus, is not reasonable, in my opinion.
I'm still pondering on a more proper song for a wiggling, singing, plastic Santa to have come out of it. Perhaps it should transmit "Frosty the Snowman", but there too, I can't connect the two individuals together.
This calls for lots more pondering.
For me, I call it "pondering." Perhaps I see something that makes me think about things. Sometimes I finally grasp a bizarre concept and try to see if it relates to reality.
I am going to share an example how this particular Caveman can view something so seemingly natural and common, but with pondering, find it completely foreign and not-understandable.
My wife and I were a Costco, a giant warehouse type store, and we wandered through the newly placed Christmas stuff and toys. As I pass a small plastic Santa Claus, a song came out of him:
"Dashing through the snow,
in a one-horse open sleigh.
O'er the fields we go,
laughing all the way.
Bells on bobbed tails ring,
making spirits bright.
Oh, what fun it is to sing
a sleighing song tonight."
You all should know the song; "Jingle Bells."
As I heard the song coming out of the plastic, jiggling Santa, I stopped.
"Wait a minute." I said to my wife. I again went back to the jolly looking doll to watch it wiggle and have that song coming from it. Something was very wrong about Santa singing "Jingle Bells."
I pondered. When I got home, I pondered more. Santa Claus has no business singing "Jingle Bells." It is a song that the "right jolly old elf" has anything to do with. Please consider the following;
Santa doesn't "dash through snow", he flies over it.
No "one horse" can pull his sleigh. He needs eight trained Reindeer.
I will admit Santa does go "o'er the fields", but he is usually alone when he flies over them.
I hope Santa is always in a good mood on Christmas Eve and he laughs a lot. But I don't imagine he laughs "all the way."
It is much easier, I believe, to bob a horse's tail than a reindeer's tail, and there has never been an illustration of any bells on any bobbed tails of Dasher, Dancer, Prancer, Vixen, Comet, Cupid, Donner, or Blitzen.
Yes, it might be fun for folks to sing sleighing songs, but according to "A Visit From Saint Nick",
Santa was not witnessed singing anything.
So to me, the idea of Santa Claus riding with another person, in a one-horse sleigh, making lots of noise by singing and having bells on the horse's tail ring doesn't seem plausible. Sure he may do it on another night other than Christmas Eve, but to have anyone believe that "Jingle Bells" has anything to do with Santa Claus, is not reasonable, in my opinion.
I'm still pondering on a more proper song for a wiggling, singing, plastic Santa to have come out of it. Perhaps it should transmit "Frosty the Snowman", but there too, I can't connect the two individuals together.
This calls for lots more pondering.
Cavemen and Doctors
Cavemen and doctors usually meet as the result of an accident. Cavemen generally hate to visit the doctor and they are somewhat reluctant to visit them even as the result of an accident.
I am still pondering whether most doctors are cavemen. I am tending to think that because they can deal with so many health issues at the same time, they may not fit into the true caveman category. They are problem solvers and they use caveman-like techniques, but they may be too complex to be considered cavemen.
A true caveman thinks that they can heal himself. If they feel pain, they may try ointments, over-the-counter remedies, or mindsets that will tell them just to "buck up" and deal with it.
Chest pain to a caveman is usually thought to be muscle related, and it is usually not the heart muscle that is thought about. We kill ourselves off too many times by not seeking professional help.
The main reason a caveman finally visits a doctor is not because he is hurting too much. It is because he has suffered with dealing with his spouse confronting him just one too many times to seek help. A caveman always remembers about his assisting in the creation of new cavebabies an that is far more important than not finally seeing a doctor.
I hated to go see the doctor during my youth and well into adult-cave-hood. When I was little I always was getting shots for ear infections until I was 9-years old and had my tonsils out.
Every visit to the doctor usually meant pain for me and I didn't like that. My cavedad was even more reluctant than I was to seek medical attention. It is a caveman thing to be resistant to visiting the doctor.
Should I address the dentist? I was forced by my mother to visit the dentist every six months between the time I could first remember and the age of fifteen. Now my dentist could have been a caveman because of his beliefs. It was his opinion that cavities should be drilled out and filled without the patient's benefit of having Novocaine or lidocaine, used. I didn't get my first shot of pain relief until I was in the Air Force. For many years thereafter I was extremely reluctant to visit the dentist. It has only been in the last ten years that I have been able to visit the dentist regularly. I have found those little shots that I should have been given as a little boy quite nice now in the dentist's chair.
There are two types of doctors that you will very rarely see a caveman visiting. In fact, if you know of a caveman visiting these two specialties, you are seeing something that is very unusual. Cavemen, by nature do not feel any need to visit a psychologist or psychiatrist. Cavemen think they know themselves well enough that they find no need to have their mind and emotions explored by anyone else. A caveman knows that he knows himself better than anyone else and finds it absurd to have anyone else explore his mental or emotional stability.
So if you see a caveman in a doctor's office you will know one of the following has happened;
He has hurt himself doing something, probably, stupid.
Another caveman has hurt him.
His spouse has finally gotten through his thick skull that it was time to seek treatment.
He was brought in by ambulance because he didn't heed the warning signs of a heart attack or a stroke.
He is just being himself, a true caveman
I am still pondering whether most doctors are cavemen. I am tending to think that because they can deal with so many health issues at the same time, they may not fit into the true caveman category. They are problem solvers and they use caveman-like techniques, but they may be too complex to be considered cavemen.
A true caveman thinks that they can heal himself. If they feel pain, they may try ointments, over-the-counter remedies, or mindsets that will tell them just to "buck up" and deal with it.
Chest pain to a caveman is usually thought to be muscle related, and it is usually not the heart muscle that is thought about. We kill ourselves off too many times by not seeking professional help.
The main reason a caveman finally visits a doctor is not because he is hurting too much. It is because he has suffered with dealing with his spouse confronting him just one too many times to seek help. A caveman always remembers about his assisting in the creation of new cavebabies an that is far more important than not finally seeing a doctor.
I hated to go see the doctor during my youth and well into adult-cave-hood. When I was little I always was getting shots for ear infections until I was 9-years old and had my tonsils out.
Every visit to the doctor usually meant pain for me and I didn't like that. My cavedad was even more reluctant than I was to seek medical attention. It is a caveman thing to be resistant to visiting the doctor.
Should I address the dentist? I was forced by my mother to visit the dentist every six months between the time I could first remember and the age of fifteen. Now my dentist could have been a caveman because of his beliefs. It was his opinion that cavities should be drilled out and filled without the patient's benefit of having Novocaine or lidocaine, used. I didn't get my first shot of pain relief until I was in the Air Force. For many years thereafter I was extremely reluctant to visit the dentist. It has only been in the last ten years that I have been able to visit the dentist regularly. I have found those little shots that I should have been given as a little boy quite nice now in the dentist's chair.
There are two types of doctors that you will very rarely see a caveman visiting. In fact, if you know of a caveman visiting these two specialties, you are seeing something that is very unusual. Cavemen, by nature do not feel any need to visit a psychologist or psychiatrist. Cavemen think they know themselves well enough that they find no need to have their mind and emotions explored by anyone else. A caveman knows that he knows himself better than anyone else and finds it absurd to have anyone else explore his mental or emotional stability.
So if you see a caveman in a doctor's office you will know one of the following has happened;
He has hurt himself doing something, probably, stupid.
Another caveman has hurt him.
His spouse has finally gotten through his thick skull that it was time to seek treatment.
He was brought in by ambulance because he didn't heed the warning signs of a heart attack or a stroke.
He is just being himself, a true caveman
Dairy input for Sunday October 29
Today for me, was a day many caveman look forward to, and usually dread. I replaced a toilet.
Replacing a toilet is something every real caveman should be able to do. It is somewhat simple and if cavemen follow the correct procedures, many tools won't get thrown and not too much cussing should be heard.
I had been dreading changing this particular toilet because it was 57 years old and the original "throne" my father used in the house. It had become too worn out and kept running for too long and leaked like a sieve.
Cavemen particularly enjoy "dismantling" any toilet. O.K. so it is more like beating the living daylights out of something that breaks apart so very easily. It is a fun time to whack the pretty white sides with a hammer and watch the pieces fly all over the place. Smacking the "throne" to death removes a good deal of pent up aggression. The only bummer is that you have to really clean up the debris so nobody steps on the sharp pieces.
As usual, it only took three trips to the home center to accomplish the task. In my way of thinking, if I can get a job completed in less than three trips to the store, I have obviously not done a complete job, or I have forgotten a very important piece of the puzzle. If a job takes more than three trips to the home center, then you probably should have hired a better caveman to accomplish whatever task needed to be done.
Picking out the new toilet was left to this caveman's wife. Being a caveman, all toilets look just about the same to me. If they look comfortable and appear to do the job they are tasked to do, why would I care what it looks like. Mrs. Caveman, on the other hand, had to shop for the "perfect" toilet. She wanted a "best buy" as mentioned in Consumer Reports. She wanted the right height of the tank so it wouldn't be too high next to the sink. She wanted a design that fit into the decor of the bathroom. Please, give me a break! But since I am a good caveman and do not want to have the Mrs. upset with me, I even went to two different home centers on a SUNDAY to pick out the best toilet the Mrs. was looking for.
Installing the toilet is usually an easy task for a true caveman. As the old toilet is removed, cavemen try to remember how they took it out so they can install the new one using sequential steps. There appears to have been an instruction booklet inside the toilet tank's box. Naturally, I didn't read it.
I didn't pay particular attention to the box that held the Wax Ring. That box contained the bolts and nuts to secure the toilet to the flange. So, since I didn't look closely at the box, and couldn't find the bolts and nuts in the bowl box, (I assumed they would be in that box) I had to make another trip to the store to get bolts, nuts, and washers that I already had. Hey, my garage is very typical for a caveman, many extra things laying around because I didn't read the instructions and had to buy items I later found I already had.
I also took my time replacing the toilet. I needed my special time to break apart the old toilet, that was fun! I cleaned around the floor and old flange and got as much of the goopy old wax cleaned up as I could. I took plenty of time installing the new one so I wouldn't need to throw tools around or make myself bleed (well, I almost got away with not bleeding). I also managed to do the entire job without yelling at anything or uttering even the nicest of cuss words.
Many cavemen are very comfortable with one particular toilet. Whether it is in their home, as most usually are, or at their work location, cavemen tend to personalize their "throne." The old toilet was my dad's special "throne". When we would go on trips, my caveman-dad always had his troubles with toilets that weren't his "throne". When we returned from trips, my dad would finally feel most comfortable at home after he used his "throne". Cavemen have caves and sometimes those caves have "thrones." So it was with some small level of sentimentality that I caused my dad's old "throne" to become broken into little pieces.
Will ever I feel that the new toilet might become my "throne?" Only time and constipation will tell.
Replacing a toilet is something every real caveman should be able to do. It is somewhat simple and if cavemen follow the correct procedures, many tools won't get thrown and not too much cussing should be heard.
I had been dreading changing this particular toilet because it was 57 years old and the original "throne" my father used in the house. It had become too worn out and kept running for too long and leaked like a sieve.
Cavemen particularly enjoy "dismantling" any toilet. O.K. so it is more like beating the living daylights out of something that breaks apart so very easily. It is a fun time to whack the pretty white sides with a hammer and watch the pieces fly all over the place. Smacking the "throne" to death removes a good deal of pent up aggression. The only bummer is that you have to really clean up the debris so nobody steps on the sharp pieces.
As usual, it only took three trips to the home center to accomplish the task. In my way of thinking, if I can get a job completed in less than three trips to the store, I have obviously not done a complete job, or I have forgotten a very important piece of the puzzle. If a job takes more than three trips to the home center, then you probably should have hired a better caveman to accomplish whatever task needed to be done.
Picking out the new toilet was left to this caveman's wife. Being a caveman, all toilets look just about the same to me. If they look comfortable and appear to do the job they are tasked to do, why would I care what it looks like. Mrs. Caveman, on the other hand, had to shop for the "perfect" toilet. She wanted a "best buy" as mentioned in Consumer Reports. She wanted the right height of the tank so it wouldn't be too high next to the sink. She wanted a design that fit into the decor of the bathroom. Please, give me a break! But since I am a good caveman and do not want to have the Mrs. upset with me, I even went to two different home centers on a SUNDAY to pick out the best toilet the Mrs. was looking for.
Installing the toilet is usually an easy task for a true caveman. As the old toilet is removed, cavemen try to remember how they took it out so they can install the new one using sequential steps. There appears to have been an instruction booklet inside the toilet tank's box. Naturally, I didn't read it.
I didn't pay particular attention to the box that held the Wax Ring. That box contained the bolts and nuts to secure the toilet to the flange. So, since I didn't look closely at the box, and couldn't find the bolts and nuts in the bowl box, (I assumed they would be in that box) I had to make another trip to the store to get bolts, nuts, and washers that I already had. Hey, my garage is very typical for a caveman, many extra things laying around because I didn't read the instructions and had to buy items I later found I already had.
I also took my time replacing the toilet. I needed my special time to break apart the old toilet, that was fun! I cleaned around the floor and old flange and got as much of the goopy old wax cleaned up as I could. I took plenty of time installing the new one so I wouldn't need to throw tools around or make myself bleed (well, I almost got away with not bleeding). I also managed to do the entire job without yelling at anything or uttering even the nicest of cuss words.
Many cavemen are very comfortable with one particular toilet. Whether it is in their home, as most usually are, or at their work location, cavemen tend to personalize their "throne." The old toilet was my dad's special "throne". When we would go on trips, my caveman-dad always had his troubles with toilets that weren't his "throne". When we returned from trips, my dad would finally feel most comfortable at home after he used his "throne". Cavemen have caves and sometimes those caves have "thrones." So it was with some small level of sentimentality that I caused my dad's old "throne" to become broken into little pieces.
Will ever I feel that the new toilet might become my "throne?" Only time and constipation will tell.
Common Caveman Behaviors 1
From time to time I will attempt to teach folks who know and love cavemen, some common behaviors that every single caveman enjoys.
There is something genetic and very natural for all true cavemen to enjoy. I will fill you in on behaviors you most certainly already know, but thought that your caveman was special.
It is an absolute certainty that a true caveman was the first to coin the phrase; "Hey kid, come here and pull my finger." Breaking wind, passing gas, farting, whatever you may call it, is an enjoyable practice and behavior of all true cavemen.
The smellier, the louder, the most disruptive, the better. If a caveman can clear the room of other cavemen, then he is champion of all he sees. We also enjoy when our cavewomen break wind. It is a natural and unspoken sign that they have the right to try to get even with us. But make no mistake, the true caveman is master of the methane.
Belching is fun. It just is. Again, the smellier, the louder, the most disruptive, the better. What better place to let loose a loud burp than a fancy restaurant, while dining with your in-laws. The caveman's father-in-law will certainly understand even though he is compelled by the mother-in-law to at least give a little scowl at the offending son-in-law.
A big dog chewing crunchy or crispy food is surely to get a real caveman, at least, chuckling. We cannot help it. There is something in our being that finds a big Lab or Great Dane chomping down on a handfull of Potato Chips, something we simple can't help laughing at. Give a dog some Peanut Butter, and we'll watch with glee for hours. It is unexplainable, yet it is so natural. It doesn't matter if we have heard the sounds a thousand times before. We still can't help belting our at least a giggle or chuckle.
We all enjoy one special "throne" in which to do number 2. Pooping is a science for cavemen and we are quite the masters on this subject. As I wrote about my father's favorite toilet, the one he would come home to after being away for days or weeks, every caveman has that one special place where he feels most comfortable doing his duty.
We make strange noises when we eat. My cavewoman finds it humorous. She thinks I'm grunting like a wild animal when I am chewing whatever meat that I am enjoying. Perhaps this behavior is unconcious to us and we don't even know we are doing it. It seems we also get a bit defensive when the noises that come out of us are commented on by others. It is perfectly to let the commentators know that you are a caveman and you are supposed to make noises when you chew. Slurping drinks and soups is also authorized.
If you know of other behaviors that you feel all cavemen have in common, you can Email me at the address on the top of the blog and I'll see if it is true and comment on it.
There is something genetic and very natural for all true cavemen to enjoy. I will fill you in on behaviors you most certainly already know, but thought that your caveman was special.
It is an absolute certainty that a true caveman was the first to coin the phrase; "Hey kid, come here and pull my finger." Breaking wind, passing gas, farting, whatever you may call it, is an enjoyable practice and behavior of all true cavemen.
The smellier, the louder, the most disruptive, the better. If a caveman can clear the room of other cavemen, then he is champion of all he sees. We also enjoy when our cavewomen break wind. It is a natural and unspoken sign that they have the right to try to get even with us. But make no mistake, the true caveman is master of the methane.
Belching is fun. It just is. Again, the smellier, the louder, the most disruptive, the better. What better place to let loose a loud burp than a fancy restaurant, while dining with your in-laws. The caveman's father-in-law will certainly understand even though he is compelled by the mother-in-law to at least give a little scowl at the offending son-in-law.
A big dog chewing crunchy or crispy food is surely to get a real caveman, at least, chuckling. We cannot help it. There is something in our being that finds a big Lab or Great Dane chomping down on a handfull of Potato Chips, something we simple can't help laughing at. Give a dog some Peanut Butter, and we'll watch with glee for hours. It is unexplainable, yet it is so natural. It doesn't matter if we have heard the sounds a thousand times before. We still can't help belting our at least a giggle or chuckle.
We all enjoy one special "throne" in which to do number 2. Pooping is a science for cavemen and we are quite the masters on this subject. As I wrote about my father's favorite toilet, the one he would come home to after being away for days or weeks, every caveman has that one special place where he feels most comfortable doing his duty.
We make strange noises when we eat. My cavewoman finds it humorous. She thinks I'm grunting like a wild animal when I am chewing whatever meat that I am enjoying. Perhaps this behavior is unconcious to us and we don't even know we are doing it. It seems we also get a bit defensive when the noises that come out of us are commented on by others. It is perfectly to let the commentators know that you are a caveman and you are supposed to make noises when you chew. Slurping drinks and soups is also authorized.
If you know of other behaviors that you feel all cavemen have in common, you can Email me at the address on the top of the blog and I'll see if it is true and comment on it.
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