Smokey and Me: Reflections on the Path Ahead
Dear Friends,
When I was around six years old my parents took me to the Ohio State Fair. What was meant to be some simple family fun with corn dogs and tilt-o-whirls actually turned into one of the most important moments of my life. Because there, standing not too far from the south entrance, was a 14-foot-tall, talking, animatronic Smokey Bear welcoming me and every other fairgoer with an adorable, mechanical wave.
And I can’t describe it in any other way than something in me ignited. I don’t know if it was what he stood for or simply his grand stature and gentle face but, in that moment, I knew that he and I were going to be buddies. More than buddies I guess, for in that instant I knew I had accepted his invitation to make more space in my head and heart to care for and protect the forests and the trees and the animals that share this wild and precious planet with us.
I’ve never left him, and he’s never left me.
For those of you who have been so generous to be part of the Cowboys and Astronauts story, you know that hovering above the shop is a giant, vintage Smokey Bear poster watching over his cubs and his fellow woodland creatures. For seven-plus years he’s stood vigil over the store, contributed to more conversations and smiles than I can count, and looked out for our dear and beloved team…and, not surprisingly, he’s even kept a careful eye on me and helped guide my choices.
He and I talk sometimes. Not in a literal sense per se, but in the way we all lean to the guides, the people, and the things we love in this life to reflect and keep ourselves honest. And in the last year I’ve learned something important in those talks…it’s time for me to make some hard decisions to return to the woods and a different kind of simplicity.
Cowboys and Astronauts, without question, has been one of the most monumental and soul-enriching chapters of my life. That is almost entirely due to the good folks, like you, who have joined the journey in ways big and small and enriched my life in profound and lasting ways. And it tears my heart out to think about leaving this chapter behind…but it’s time to close our Andersonville shop. (Subject to change, we’re currently thinking our last day open will be March 6th and we’d love to see you before we lock the doors one last time on Summerdale.)
I am humbled to recognize that Cowboys and Astronauts has come to mean a great deal to a lot of people over the course of our time in Andersonville. Having the shop in this magical community has meant the world to me, and I would be remiss to not consider if one of you, or someone you know, would want to acquire the keys to the spaceship to keep it right here in the neighborhood. While it’s not the intent of this note, I’d be all ears and welcome serious and qualified inquiries. Please send an email to hello@cowboysandastronauts.com to directly connect with me. (For those just curious and tire-kicking, I respectfully ask you to not scratch that itch…please, please for my heart’s sake.)
So, what am I doing next? Well, that is still evolving and revealing itself even to me. But, I can tell you this. I’m exploring ideas that bring me closer to the woods, closer to more natural environments, and closer to my home with my partner, Greg, in the Indiana Dunes National Park (just an hour southeast of Chicago). I’m exploring whether Cowboys and Astronauts has a duneland reinvention or whether I just bring a whole new concept into the world…or all of the above!
For all these scenarios, I’m inviting you along for the ride and I hope you’ll come with me! I promise to keep you up-to-date as the story unfolds via email and the socials.
If you’ve gotten to the end of this long letter, I thank you greatly. If you’ve ever graced us with your time or your company or your support, thank you greatly. And if you have it in you to follow Smokey and me into the woods for a new adventure, thank you greatly in advance. You all mean more to me, Greg, and the team than you can possibly know.
In gratitude and hope,
Matthew
