I'm feeling pretty manly these days.

Lately, I've experienced a profound transformation. I've gone from a reserved, unable, meek male to a hardened, domesticated, sturdy MAN. It all started this weekend when I decided to install some shelves in my garage.

I headed down to the ol' Home Depot to check out the storage systems. The aisle showcased several options. Fully assembled, easy-to-install options. The price tags were a little more than I wanted to swallow, however. But what other options did I have? I inquired of a sales associate.

ME: Excuse me, are these all the garage shelf systems you have?

HOME DEPOT GUY: Sure are. Unless you want to just build your own. Lumber is in aisle 45.

It was at this point that I realized the Home Depot guy wasn't really being helpful. He wanted to take a jab at my void of manliness. He saw a scrawny father of two standing amongst the wire shelving units (one row over from the decorative hanging lights, mind you) and he took his shot.

Well, the shot stuck.

I curled up my bottom lip, puffed up my chest and headed for aisle 45.

It was like a whole new world. A completely different culture. It was filled with real men. Everywhere. I mean, these guys came to Home Depot wearing their own gloves and everything. Everywhere I turned, guys were haulin' lumber. Taking measurements. Casually swearing. The whole nine yards.

Upon entering this world, I was quickly spotted as an outsider. I'm sure my lack of leather tool belt and gloves gave me away. So I quickly turned my focus to the stacks of lumber, pretending I knew what I was looking for. But after about 20 minutes of this facade, I realized I was in over my head. I had to make my escape. I coughed up some minor fit, like they didn't have the exact kind of wood I like to work with or something. I tossed my hands into the air, said something involving the words "hell" and "damn" and stormed out into the parking lot.

Once there, I snuck into my 1999 Honda Accord and returned back to my home. But, I never made it back home. At least not to the home I remembered, the home where I wasn't a real man. I now had a new resolve. I was a changed "man" as it were.

But I still had a problem. Like any changed hero, I needed to cross over the threshold. I needed to conquer the shelves. Through means of real wood, real hardware and real power tools.

I retired to the privacy of my bedroom, where I secretly googled "How to build garage shelving." My search results took me to a site called ExpertVillage.com. And wouldn't you know it, they had a five-video tutorial on how to build some simple storage shelving. As I soaked in the tutorials, an amazing sense of excitement overcame me.

I can do this. In fact, this looks really easy.

I watched the videos a second time just to make sure.

I swept out any remaining doubt, found my hardly-used work gloves in the garage, fastened a measuring tape to my hip that was part of a simple man's toolkit I was given as a wedding gift and returned to Home Depot. Without hesitation, I confidently obtained a lumber cart. I even entered through the contractor's entrance.

This time I blended right in. I strutted around, throwing lumber onto my cart like it was nothin' doin'. And it felt awesome. Just then I spied a feeble father entering into the area for his first time. I could see the pain and confusion in his eyes. This world was so desirous, but, at the moment, unobtainable. I offered a hardened scowl as I passed. I was going to spit by his shoes to show him just how desensitized this world was, but a painful canker sore held me back. So the scowl had to suffice.

I confidently lined up in the contractor's checkout line sharing company with society's most calloused.

I returned to my garage. With the tutorials still fresh in my mind, I went to work. I turned on the classic rock radio station and let ACDC take the lead. With a power drill in one hand and a two-inch deck screw in the other, it began.

Two hours later I emerged from my garage. I had done it. I had crossed over. I had become a real man. I had built, perhaps the finest garage shelf Longmont, CO had ever seen.

And from that moment, I have been forever changed.

So now, as a real, manly man, it really doesn't bother me that the rental car we were given from our insurance company while our wrecked car is in the shop is a BIG, HUGE, HONKIN', EXTENDED CAB, MONSTER OF A TRUCK.

I'm probably gonna use it to haul some stuff to the dump this weekend. Or maybe even pick up some landscaping boulders.

Or maybe even both.