A man’s home is his castle, until he gets married. Once that happens, a man cave will have to do. In my case, I can’t even hang on to one of those. Between my wife (Josie) and other close relatives, I rarely have any place I can hide out from the world.
When I’m staying with my children in the United States, I obviously can’t have any place private. When I’m at my house in the Philippines, which is only one house in a large compound, I should be able to find at least one place, right?
Well, the Wikipedia page for it describes it thus:
A man cave or manspace, and less commonly a manland or mantuary is a male retreat or sanctuary in a home, such as a specially equipped garage, spare bedroom, media room, den, or basement. The term “man cave” is a metaphor describing a room inside the house such as the basement or garage or attic or office, or outside the house such as a wood shed or tool room where “guys can do as they please”, without fear of upsetting any female sensibility about house decor or design.
Yep, that about sums it up. I don’t have a garage, a media room, a den, a basement, a shed or a toolroom. The only thing in that description that exists here is a spare bedroom. I actually have two spare bedrooms.
There was a time when I had an outdoor man cave, which I shared only with an electric water heater. It’s a three-quarter-enclosed area under the carport (formerly just a cement driveway). The carport and the road are even with the second story of the house.
The picture I included with this post was taken within the last six months by a sister-in-law. If you look closely, you will see the gate I can lock to keep the rest of the compound residents out (when I get back, of course).
It was a great outdoor space until Josie decided to use it as a gambling area for a year or so. The children in my compound used to hang out there when it wasn’t occupied. They all usurped my throne. Perhaps I’ll reclaim it when I return to Olongapo, after all this pandemic nonsense blows over.
The master bedroom is almost a man cave. I spend far more time in it than anywhere else. Josie sleeps in the bed and bathes in the master bath, but she spends most of her waking hours elsewhere. It’s the only room I can claim as my own, most of the time. So… my current man cave isn’t really that at all.
As much as I would like to convert one of the spare bedrooms into a man cave, it isn’t ever going to happen. Josie will let someone move into it before she’ll ever let me get away with it. As the man of the house, I should be able to put my foot down, right? Only if I want to live in the dog house for the rest of my life. And I’d have to build that too.
All I really need is a place to hang out, where I can write and program and listen to music without being interrupted. A place where no one but me and those I invite (all men, of course) are allowed. A place where I can drink if I want to, watch movies if I want to, and do just about anything else I want to do.
That almost describes my master bedroom. Except that I get interrupted all the time and I can’t seem to keep anyone out. Unless I come into an incredible amount of money, it’s the best I can do until I can figure something else out. It’s not misogynistic to want privacy, away from the females of our species, unless it’s all the time. I would never be able to stay away from them for very long.
Edited and updated. Originally published at one of my other websites in July 2017.