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Here’s a little tale for the winter fire, a tale of the origins of my Tiny Cowboy Cabin, a little cordwood hut, created in my Northern CA backyard in 2001, in collaboration with Alabama artist Butch Anthony and the young (and now celebrated) musician Jake Xerxes Fussell
It’s hard to believe it’s been twenty years. I’d traveled by train to meet up with Butch and Jake in New Orleans, enjoying no end of crazy adventures criss- crossing the country by train, along the way befriending a famous bull-riding cowboy, a jilted lover who gave me the ring he planned to chuck off the train, asmokejumper who’d smashed his foot, an Amish family who invited us to their sleeper car, and an old woman who’d been mistakenly but officially pronounced dead a decade earlier, among others. I collected scar stories, Jake played his incredible repertoire of Georgia blues, almost as often as I begged him (he never sang back then), and Butch pedaled his crazy art, sewn into the lining of an old overcoat.
From New Orleans to Chicago and then west to California we vagabonded, but once we arrived, construction and demolition loomed, with only a couple of weeks to accomplish it all. Deadlines only seemed to inspire Butch; as taskmaster, he had Jake and me up at dawn, hauling the old garage off to the dump in my red ’54 GMC pickup, and then back again for more debris. We rarely slept before midnight. I thought we’d never see the end of it.
My main job was logistics: I tried to stay ahead of Butch, anticipating and procuring whatever parts we needed. Finding the logs proved hardest. I had to forego black locust, but scored redwood logs instead from Paul Discoe the legendary Oakland Zen monk builder, who showed me the incredible fragrant lumber and intricate scribing he was using to build a house, piece by piece, for Oracle founder Larry Ellison. My second jobs were hauling, loading, unloading, and food prep—I pride myself on being able to whip up something out of nothing in a flash.
In the midst of the building madness, Butch was challenged to a folk art shootout, by local artist The Maestro, King of the Cowboys. The little cabin was built as an homage to the Maestro, whose own backyard build had been captured in Les Blank’s documentary about him. Now, Les was deep into a film about Butch, so the Maestro (naturally) demanded a shootout out in the nearby hills. It’s hard to say who won that contest, but there’s no denying the hijinks. In the end, the Maestro seared the cabin with his “Cross over M” brand, and he mounted a gorgeous plaque inside declaring the Tiny Cowboy Cabin Maestro-approved.
The last day we had a pig roast and music night, all filmed by Les for the movie he died before completing, though his son Harrod says it’s still in the works and skated for completion.
Originally intended as a folly, or plantingshed, the cabin became my son’s summer house a couple of years later. His enjoyment of it as a sleeping cabin inspired me to imagine using it as an off-the-grid backyard Airbnb, and, while it’s definitely not for everyone, hundreds of adventurous guests have stayed in it since 2013.
