By Clay Riness  

My man cave is, among many things, a place to think. As of late, I’ve been sitting here pondering some of life’s unanswerable questions, even the lesser pondered questions such as … why is the long-running hit TV show “Survivor” (of which I am an unapologetic fan) so obsessed with snakes? Oh sure, it cuts away to centipedes, lizards, scary sharks and bug-eyed monkeys, but someone over there sure is a bit overinfatuated with snakes. What gives?

How about this: Go, right now, and find a small electric appliance … a hand mixer, curling iron, portable heater or something of that sort. The only rule is that it must not have a grounded, three-pronged plug. Without looking, go plug it into an outlet, if you can. Four out of five times you’ll fail because it will be backward. And, the mind-blistering fact is … you have a 50% chance every time. Murphy’s law?

Um, why is it when a pet has an “accident” it has to be on carpet? Yes, the one surface that can’t be removed or thoroughly cleaned. It’s like an unspoken animal code of conduct. Kitty has to hack up a hairball, old dog can’t hold it until morning … “My God, I have to get off this disgusting linoleum kitchen floor and get to the living room carpet! STAT!”

How come we almost always drop the soap in the shower? Yes, I know that soap-on-a-rope was invented to negate this issue, but no real testosterone-dripping stud would be caught wearing nothing but his Irish Spring on a rope. Please. You have to remove it to reach your nether regions anyway. Maybe that’s why soap-on-a-rope failed to endure, ya think?

How is it we so frequently get to the end of a clean laundry basket and find one sock? And, where do the matching socks go? Sock prison? Another dimension? I believe this might be the reason the fashionistas began wearing unmatched socks in the name of trendy fashion. I’m not buying it. Pretty sure they just lost a bunch of socks in the “act of laundry.”

How can I have 200 channels and nothing worth watching? I’m not a sports guy, so that rules out about 50 channels right out of the gate. But … really? “Cupcake Wars,” “Jerry Springer,” “Two and a Half Men,” “Celebrity Wife Swap” … Give us a break. Part of the reason there’s nothing to watch is that I’ve already seen a bunch of it, sometimes more than once. I’ve seen every episode of “M*A*S*H” 50 times. Still beats “Cupcake Wars.” Remember when the Food Network had programs that helped you learn how to cook?

Here’s another mind bender: How is it that we can scrape a minute amount of DNA from an old bone and precisely determine how some prehistoric human looked, but somehow I send an entire jar of spit in for analysis and fail my DNA test? You read that right. I failed my Ancestry DNA test … twice, in fact. I gave up on finding out about my heritage after my dad laughed at me and said, “How do you fail a DNA test, twice?”

Why can’t people learn the proper usage of their, there and they’re? I mean … not rocket science.

On a more personal level, we have dogs. We love our dogs. For years, I have been closing the toilet lid after every use because I don’t want our dogs to discover they have a nice, convenient little watering hole. For years, my girls, the wife and daughter, have been leaving the seat up after every single use. Unanswerable question: Wouldn’t you think they would get the picture and notice that every time they visit the bathroom, the lid is closed? I made mention of it a few times early on, but they quickly fell off that wagon. I’ve considered using a dry erase marker to write “CLOSE THE LID” on the inside of the lid, but I’m allergic to confrontation. This ship sails smoother when the waters are calm, and I endeavor to avoid capsizing at all costs.

And so, with another train of random thought having been spent, here I sit in my man cave, suffering just one more of life’s unanswerable questions: Why am I even stressing over this stuff?