Man cave is a relatively new expression. A 1992 edition of The Toronto Star has been credited with its first published use. Generally it refers to an enclosed space where a man’s routines are not unduly influenced by his wife’s input. The previous word for that was grave.

The nuances of cave life are many, so I’m not claiming to have found the perfect man cave for everyone. From a country boy’s view, however, I’ve seen a place that comes real close.  

Al Willis, a friend for many years, transformed an old storage shed into a side-yard haven. It’s a place to work, visit with a neighbor, or just do some pondering.

My purpose in going to see Al had nothing to do with man caves. I didn’t know he had one. What I went to see was a shallow well he dug unconventionally. Our family enjoys going to a picnic area in the woods near my mother’s childhood home. A working hand pump would be a splendid addition. Unlike some of my projects, I sought advice before beginning. 

YouTube videos show various ways of digging shallow wells. One man added extensions to a hand-turned auger to drill through the earth. If I start tomorrow we might hit water during my lifetime. Another fellow drove a pointed pipe into the ground with a sledge hammer. That could work, depending on how big a hammer Jane can swing.   

Another method placed a water hose in a pipe and let the faucet wallow out a hole. That was okay in Florida’s sandy soil but I’m dealing with limerock. Al’s technique was similar but more forceful. He used an air compressor along with a pressure washer to boil the dirt up. But wells are a deep subject and incidental for today’s column. What impressed me more than the well was his man cave.

It was my first time drinking coffee made on a wood-burning stove. I figured Al was boiling water for instant fare, but he brews old-style with a cobalt blue percolator. The dual-purpose stove also warms the room on wintry days.

His man cave is big enough for a work space and a couple of chairs. The walls are filled with things he likes to collect. Nothing is fancy. Decor is based on an earlier era. The antique irons are the kind that were heated in fireplaces, heavy black irons which outlived the women who used them. They blend nicely with cast iron skillets and pans, one of which his grandmother made cornbread in. Tender memories, seasoned with love, still simmer in the sturdy cookware.  

He has utensils, sausage grinders, wooden bowls, and such. An old item which was new to me was a round emery rock with a hand-crank, designed for sharpening blades of farm implements. The portable sharpener can be clamped to a flat surface for field use. 

Not far from the building is a 1946 Farmall tractor used for mowing grass plus tilling his garden. It doesn’t have a three-point hitch so he customized a plow. Just behind his hideaway is a red hand pump that’s mounted atop his self-dug well.  

Al and I had a great visit and he invited me to come again. I hope to do that before long. The coffee was smooth, the atmosphere welcoming, and the conversation easy. I suppose there’s no such thing as the perfect man cave for everyone, but from a country boy’s view I’d say Al Willis has a place that comes real close.

Other men might change it a tad. That’s not necessarily good or bad. But all would concede that a simple man cave is far more appealing than the finest of graves. Most wives, I believe, would surely agree, but with a smile some would say, “May he rest in peace.”