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Wednesday, November 7, 2012

Chairs


Chairs

There is an ongoing dispute between me and chairs. When I was a little kid of 4 years old Mama, Daddy and I had this old swivel rocker that was a problem. It seemed that every time I sat in the thing, it went backwards with me. It was quite the ordeal to get the thing set back to rights.
I remember that I had a very important job that involved that chair. If a guest came to our house, it was my job to hurriedly be rude and take the chair that looked to be the most comfortable in the house. Most of the time I did pretty well at occupying that chair while guests visited.
One time, when I was around ten years old, about 1966,  our new pastor came to visit us. He was a very proper man. He was a painter when he wasn’t behind the pulpit. He wore a severe black suit with pants about an inch or so too short. He wore shiny black dress shoes, horn-rimmed glasses, a white shirt, and white socks.
His knock sounded on the door and I opened it. He walked though quickly and spied the swivel rocker. He folded his lanky frame into it and sat with his elbows on his knees.
Good. If he stays like that, he won’t fall backwards.
Sure enough, after he made the point in his conversation, (I wasn’t listening. I was worrying.) He stretched back and before Mama and I realized what happened, his legs were pointed to the ceiling. He flipped the chair backwards. His white socks and shins shined as bright as mayonnaise.
Mama looked at me and frowned. I knew I missed my assignment that day. Each of us took one of his hands and pulled him and the chair to an upright position.
I don’t know why, but it was years later before Mama and Daddy replaced that chair with a Lazy Boy Recliner. I can’t tell you how glad I was for that purchase.
That wasn’t the end to my chair problems. In 1975 Terry and I got married and bought a brand new Great Lakes mobile home. It was beautiful! Being built in the Spanish style of the day, it had dark brown paneling on every wall except one wall in the living room. That wall had off-white paneling with two wrought-iron keys that were about two feet high. We had red velvet chairs and matching couch trimmed with black vinyl around the edges and buttons. We had a big red glass based lamp with a big red velvet shade trimmed in black lace.
Our dining room/kitchen was awesome in that it had a rectangle table with wrought-iron swivel based velvet dining room chairs. Those things were heavy duty. To top it off, we had a black metal chandelier. We knew we were rich!
As the years progressed in living in the trailer house, things sort of started to happen to the furniture. If you weren’t careful in sitting on the couch, a spring might grab the calf of you leg and bite you. When this happened to me, I got out the cutting pliers and cut off a length of it and forgot it.
One day a friend of mine came over to visit Terry and me and sat on that couch. The girl sat down carefully and the man plopped down quickly. Before I knew what happened, the spring came out and grabbed his pant leg along with a piece of his calf. We apologized and offered them alternate seating.
After they left, Terry turned the couch over and clipped the spring out. It was three years later that we moved from the trailer and left the furniture behind for the renters to use.
 One year, not long ago, probably about 2010, we purchased a cheap chair and a half recliner. Our kids like to sit side by side or on one another’s lap, so I thought it would be a good thing. The thing wasn’t so good. During a Christmas visit, I walk into the living room to find my son and daughter-in-law in the recliner with their feet reaching toward the ceiling.
The story my son told me was that they lifted the foot rest and when they were ready to get out of the chair, it wouldn’t budge. They thought that if they rocked it a little, the catch would release and they could get out. They rocked it a little and the back went down further and got top heavy. The recliner flipped on its back.
The reason they were stuck in the recliner is that it is nestled in the corner of the room. There was no room to get out the side. With the help of a couple of brothers rescue mission, they were freed.
How lame was that! I thought.  Not but a month later I was sitting in that big old chair and did the exact same thing. My head was wedged in the corner of the room between the bookcase and wall. My feet were sticking straight up. The left arm of the recliner was wedged next to a glass front bookcase. The right arm had a glass topped table next to it. There was no place to go.
I had my zip up robe on because it was nine A.M. and I reached into my pocket. I dialed Terry and asked him how his day was going. I then asked him what time he thought he would make it home. He said it would be around eight P.M. I said okay and hung up. (You wonder why I didn’t tell him, don’t you? Well, I didn’t want him to know about it and laugh at me.)
Since I seldom have drop in visitors, I knew it was up to me to get out of this situation. I threw my legs up over my head, fuzzy slippers and all, and somehow twisted myself into a knot. I was afraid I might break some of the glass, so I was a tight little ball. I ended up sideways in the chair and figured that if I stood on the back of it, I could climb over it. (I tell you it was truly wedged!) I climbed over it and got myself a cup of coffee.
Not long after that, the church women’s group needed donations for their garage sale. You can guess what I put a price of $5 on. I think they sold it for $3. I decided after I got rid of that one, I would get quality all the way.