My chair

Christmas 1973 was my year. It was the year I got the best the best gift I never got. No that's not a typo. I never got. It was a gift given to someone else in the family but it became mine. Possession is nine tenths of the law right? I think that was the year we got our first microwave- an Amana "radar range". I guess that was when the Moon shots was still the rage so something with "radar" in the name made it sound more futuristic. Mom was all a twitter about it. I didn't get what the big deal was - it was as big as a Curtiss Mathiss TV and all it did was heat cold coffee. That wasn't the gift I am talking about though.
I'm sitting in an antique office chair that is probably what you're required to sit on as you burn in hell. It is so uncomfortable. I was doing some work for a woman late last year and she was throwing out this chair so I asked if I could have it. My office chair was an old kitchen chair so I needed an up grade and this seemed to fit the bill. Except that it's not comfortable and it's about to fall apart. And I think it's scratching the floor. And it squeaks. "Other than that Mrs. Lincoln, how was the show"? I'm a sucker for this kind of thing though. When I was in college I found the same kind of antique chair in a dumpster behind the Methodist church and loved it for many years. It wasn't comfortable either.(at some point in my development I will realize things in dumpsters or on trash heaps are there for a reason. But I hope it's not until I'm older)
So what does this have to do with the Christmas gift? It was a chair. My mom got my dad a Lazy Boy rocker recliner- burnt orange in color (it was the 70's). You know, I didn't think much about it at the time, I mean, it was just a chair and I was 10. What do 10 year old's know about chairs except you got whipped if you spill something on it. I did. And I did. But I learned.
I wasn't allowed to watch "All in the Family" much as a kid but I gleaned one important fact- a man has to have a chair. And in our house hold, it was to be this burnt orange chair.Before the chair came along we sat on orange crates and tree stumps. It was so plush and comfortable. You sat in it and the chair wrapped it's arms around you and rocked you to sleep. And to my surprise and delight, my dad didn't care that much for it. He was more of a stationary sitter.He was a smoker at the time and based on my own abilities, I don't think he could smoke and rock at the same time. So it became MY chair. God is good!
Leaving for college was a sad time for me because of the separation anxiety. Not from my family but my chair. We had spent a lot of time together. I'd rocked through 3 sets of springs. But what a joyful day it was when my mom came to visit and brought the chair. Reunited at last.
And I wore it out. I rocked through 3 more sets of springs. It got dirty. The upholstery was torn in several spots. And there was never a more comfortable chair. It was really an embarrassment for Terri when we had folks over because the seat was ripped and it was covered with a towel. Finally the day came in 1994 when we just had to get rid of it. I now know what people feel like when they have to put their dog down. I took it to the dump and pushed it out of the back of the truck. I cried. As I drove away I kept looking in the rear view. A sad sense of longing followed me home.
well, life moves on. Nothing lasts forever even though we want it to. Sigh.I have a Lazy Boy now. It's brown. It's comfortable. And I've rocked through 3 sets of springs on this one too. It was a gift from Terri. Because every man needs a chair.