The Mantuary

BUY MANTUARY GEAR!

Like many men, my safe haven from cohabitating with the opposite sex was created shortly after I got married.  I won’t suggest the thought of having my own space was anything new to the evolution of man, but the term I gave it, The Mantuary, certainly was…if only for a short time.  You see, long before these spaces were given buzzwords, before Twitchel came out with Where Men Hide or Sam Martin came out with Man Space (both great books by the way) there was a time when Tony “The Goose” Siragusa actually played football for the Ravens… a time before “The Goose” became the poster child for the Man Cave.  It was during this time that I hung The Mantuary sign above my 3^rd bay garage with a sense of originality and authenticity because there was nothing like it at the time.  The Mantuary would forever mark the territory that I would call my own. 

I mention all this not to be a braggart, but as a matter of record.  Lately some have questioned the authenticity of The Mantuary suggesting it is nothing more than a clumsy spin-off of other manly domains like a Man Cave, A Testosteroom, a Garge-Mahal, or whatever!  Bottom line is, while my Mantuary wasn’t the first space dedicated to men, it certainly took root before Manly themed TV shows and books flooded the market.

So where does all this fit into the hierarchy of what to call your space?  While my grandfather would argue we’re all f’n nuts for needing anything other than the local fishing hole, I’ll state my case for The Mantuary and let you decide.

Man Cave is the term made famous by the DIY network.  I can’t help but picture a bunch of suits sitting around a big oak desk tossing ideas around trying to come up with the perfect tag line that would appeal to the common man. 
     Suit 1: we need something that appeals to the average man. 
     Suit 2: agreed… something that takes us all back to our cave man roots.
     Suit 1: that’s it… Man Cave!
     Suit 2: Bonnie is going to love this idea… let’s go to Chili’s to celebrate.

4 weeks later…
     Bonnie: Tony, how would you like to spend 4 days in a custom RV that we build for you.  We’ll feed you steak dinners, BBQ ribs and all the Wendy’s takeout you want.  Every once in awhile, you can poke your head out, check up on the Man Cave your partner will be building, bust some balls and go back to sleep.
     The Goose: uh, will the RV have a shitter?
     Bonnie: you betcha!
     The Goose: where do I sign?

God bless “The Goose” cause he’s living every man’s dream, but there’s still something inherently artificial about the term “Man Cave” in my opinion.  Its too cutesy… its too politically correct.  Dont get me wrong, I wouldn’t turn down The Goose if he was looking to put $20,000 into my Mantuary, but i’d be selling out to a bunch of designer network suits in the process…and therein lies the problem!  It wouldnt be The Mantaury, it would be The Man Cave as designed by a television studio…and let’s face it, it’s almost impossible to use the term “Man Cave” in a sentence without having it bastardized by gay innuendos –  ”Hey Steve, wanna hang out in my Man Cave?”  “Sorry I cant, I’ve got to clean out my own Man Cave”.  Just look no further than this news story: http://www.johnsoncitypress.com/Detail.php?Cat=HOMEPAGE&ID=60342

Admittedly biased, The Mantuary (pronounced Man-Chew-Airy) has manlier roots.  No shit, I can remember the night I was hanging out with my buddies in the garage.  It was the middle of winter, snow was falling and the garage door was wide open.  We weren’t feeling a thing because of the hurting we put on the barrel of Yeungling that was on tap.  It was well after 3 in the morning, Led Zeppelin blaring, when my buddy turned to me and said, “this is f’n great!”  “Yeah,” I replied, “this is The Mantuary”. 

Unlike most of the ideas I get when I drink too much, this one took root into a concept I simply could not let go.  I searched the internet high and low, and at that time there was never a single mention of the word Mantuary or Man Cave to be found.  Anyone who heard me refer to my space as a Mantuary loved the idea… my wife was just as turned off…and so The Mantuary was formed.  Two weeks later I had the first Mantuary sign hanging above my door and the rest is history. 

In the end, what you call your space isn’t nearly as important as having a space and standing up for what it represents – a place where a Man is judged by the amount of holes in his pants, where the lights don’t have to be turned on when you’re working, and beer flows freely from a tap.

Be A Man.

- The Founding Father

Filed under: Rants