Back in the 1970’s and early 80’s, there was only one man who sat comfortably in his chair in the United States. He was sitting in MY chair but he owned it! The chair when I tried it out was a perfect fit for me, encasing my butt, with just enough room from the front of the seat to the backrest. There were no gaps, just a perfect glove-like feel. When I sat in it, I had a happy tush with the comfort of sitting on a cloud like cushion. The man was my father-in-law, Jim Manning, and when he passed away, when I visited my mother-in-law, I would sit in his chair, like I said, with a happy tush.
Then one day, my mother-in-law passed away and TLW (The Little Woman) had to clean out the house to sell it, and I was in charge of helping her. I remember it like it was yesterday: “Joe, you’re gonna help me clean out my folks house, take everything to the curb.” Along with this newfound voluntary position of importance, came the task of putting the chair that I loved so much to the curb. I remember the sobbing, and thinking if there was a way I could sneak it into the car and put it in my house. I thought I could hide it somewhere, and when I was tired, go to that secret place and sit in it without her knowing it. It would have been a fool’s task but I didn’t try anyway. (Go ahead and snicker)
That happened about 30 years ago and now it is time for me to get a new chair, as TLW decided that that was what I need. I wanted a personal French maid with the little mini skirt, but that won’t happen unless I take a nap. So today, Sunday November 23, the quest will begin to find that elusive chair. We will look everywhere, and everywhere there will be disappointment. I will lower and raise my butt about 100 times today but it will not get a perfect fit. I might have a fleeting moment of pleasure, then something will not feel right and off we will go to the next chair, thinking this time will be it. But like a poorly organized game of craps-no dice.
And so dear reader, I will roam this Earth, in store after store, until I die, and when that happens, I will roam in house after house, my spirit never at rest in the quest for the perfect chair. So sad!
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