Introduction

I’m a guy. A recently married guy. A recently married guy who used to have (what I like to think of as) The All-American-Single-Guy life. Why do you care? You probably don’t. But it’s the left-over bits of that life that are the subject of this blog.

When I say “The All American Single Guy Life” I don’t mean drinking until 3am every night, always eating out, watching ESPN incessantly, a stereo with speakers shockingly reminiscent of Stonehenge, and living in a house that most people wouldn’t feel comfortable in even if they wore a class-4 bio-hazard suit. (Some of that may very well have been the case, but that’s not what I mean.)

I mean I had toys. Big toys. Toys with bells and whistles and gadgets but, most importantly, toys with wheels and motors. During my single days you were just as likely to find me in the garage poking at these as in the house. (In the case of some of the motorcycles I’d actually bring them into the living room so I could watch TV while I wrenched.)

My wife has made significant progress in vanquishing many things from my All American Single Guy Life. But, for the most part, the big toys have survived. They don’t spend time in the living room anymore, but they are still around.

Anyway this blog is about those toys.