Sometimes I saunter by a corner house at Ferris and White Streets where the double garage is a man cave.  I knew it had to be a man cave the very first time I drove by and saw the navy garage door emblazoned with the huge yellow “M”.  The garage is surrounded by flowerless planters boxes where maize and blue wooden boards have been plopped onto the top where the blooms should be allowing for makeshift extra seating.  When the garage door is open, you get an up-close-and-personal look at the “M Man Cave” … it has low lights, carpeting, a huge bar, couch, comfy chairs and a big screen television.  Very manly for breaking bread with your buddies and drinking adult beverages.  There was no crying in their beer by the boys last night after the Wolverines’ victory over Syracuse Orange in the Final Four.  A similar camaraderie exists at the Yum Yum Donut shop every morning where a group of elderly gents gather to yak about the state of the world, rumors of shrinking Social Security and re-hashing our local sports teams’ ability or inability to get a “W” the night before.  Every swivel stool is filled and the waitress bustles about with refills of each mug since the slightly dry cruller has sucked up half the coffee after one swift dunk.  A daily fixture in the parking lot is a navy blue pick-up truck with a U of M bumper sticker.  I have decided it is Mr. “M Man Cave” himself who has convened and presides over the kaffeeklatsch, reminiscent of the circa 1950s housewives in the ‘burbs who gathered every morn for endless chitchat or to exchange complaints about their respective hubbies.