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How and why I got my sexy new chair
Feb. 6th, 2013 09:54 am
This is my sexy new seductress of a chair. Yesterday she made me sleep with her ALL DAY LONG. So very comfy! She's a classic 1971 "Golden Harvest"; an intricate orange, yellow and white color that seems to have been born to live in thrift stores for all eternity. She's about 1/2 the size and 1/3rd the weight of my last favorite chair which is now sitting in our car port waiting for it's final fate. She's kind of low to the ground, and her arms cradle me like a gentle hug from a trusted relative. I got my sexy new chair (and matching ottoman) at the Goodwill Outlet for $2.99.
Maybe this is just a "Guy Thing", but I become VERY attached to my comfy chairs. Sexy here is only the third chair I've ever loved.
My first chair was a hand-me-down that came from the estate of my dearly departed Grandmother in 1989. It, too, was a Golden Harvest Beauty, only it was a genuine Lazy-Boy Recliner. All my favorite memories of growing up happened in that chair, staying up late nights at Grandma's house watching Cable TV (TWENTY CHANNELS WOW!) eating Wheat Thins and Bologna Sandwiches. I was still in high school when my grandma died and it was being decided what to do with all her furniture, but I let it be known that I really really wanted it and so it came to our house. When I moved out, it was the one piece of furniture I brought with me. By the time it died many years later, it was in pretty horrid shape. The butt-cushion was ripped and the wood frame was poking out so that anyone who wasn't me was instantly uncomfortable as soon as they sat in it. It occasionally "froze up" in mid rocking motion, requiring a move that we called "The Elvis" to free it up again. The once magnificent Golden Harvest covering had been replaced by years of having used the arms of the chair for a napkin, leaving a dark, almost leather-like shine to it. One day it just gave up and collapsed under me, splitting in two.
My second chair, the one that I just replaced, was a giant 1990's grey-and-beige overstuffed stationary chair (no reclining or rocking) that my mother had gotten at an auction and decided to get rid of once she actually sat in it. Like most 90's furniture, this chair was made to LOOK comfortable without actually offering any comfort at all. I gave it a home and spent many hours making it conform to my body, eventually resulting in a chair that was super-comfortable for me and passably comfortable for anybody else. It was my THRONE. I'm a big guy, sure, but in this chair I looked and felt *tiny*. This is the chair that Molly grew up in. She puked, peed and pooped on it all through her infancy. I would sit in it late at night with her and we'd watch cheesy horror flicks while Crystal got some sleep. Crystal did all he breast feeding in this chair. I'm very emotionally attached to this chair.
A few nights ago, our dog fell asleep on the couch before we all went to bed and I decided to just let her sleep there all night (she usually comes in to the bedroom with us). By morning, even though the pet door that she always uses was open and easy to get through, the dog had pooped all over the floor and peed on my chair SO MUCH that it was SOAKED ALL THE WAY THROUGH. She's a small dog so she must have had to come back and peed on my chair a dozen times to get so much urine in there.
I got very emotional over this. I cried, and I laughed at myself for crying over another chair (I cried over my original chair as well back when it had fallen apart). I did not hit, kick or otherwise abuse the dog even though I REALLY wanted to, but I *did* remain emotionally distant towards her for a good 48 hours or so.
So now I have a new chair to be in love with. A new chair that will some day break my heart.
