The Chairman

Peter runs his world from a La Z Boy chair in the living room. He reads the daily newspaper with his morning coffee, he reclines for his afternoon naps, and he watches hockey playoffs and poker tournaments on TV, all from the comfort of his chair. It would be a catastrophe if something were to happen to that chair…

But nothing catastrophic happened. The chair just aged, like you and me, bit by bit. First the arm rests showed signs of aging: wrinkles, discoloured spots, and tiny rips. I made some replacement covers in a similar fabric, but they didn’t fit right and kept slipping off. Then the chair began making noises, grunts and squeaks, whenever Peter changed positions. Sometimes they interrupted his nap. Finally one side of the foot rest disengaged from the body. The chair was pretty much at the end of its life.

I kept quiet about this deterioration. The 2 of us have an unspoken pact not to point out each other’s signs of old age creeping up on us, and I thought this might apply to his favourite chair too. So I kept my mouth shut. I did not mention calling “Got Junk?” or even MAID for furniture. I just waited and watched. Life carried on.

The day after Christmas Peter said we needed to discuss something important. He sat down carefully in his chair and looked up at me anxiously. He said it was time for a new one. I was worried – what kind of health issue could it be – A knee? A kidney?? A HEART? He passed me an advertising flyer and showed me – reclining chairs. They were black in colour which suited our living room decor. And they were on sale at 50% off. We weren’t going to the hospital – we were going shopping!

We found the furniture store and located the chairs on sale. They were… Brown. My dream was shattered. A big brown chair would destroy the look and feel of our almost-elegant living room. As Peter started to get out his wallet, I delicately stepped close to the salesman and asked “um, do you, by any chance, have this chair in black?” ‘No we don’t,” he replied, “but I do have another style in black, just over there. Follow me.”

I rushed to follow, with Peter trailing behind. As we neared the black recliner, the salesman began extolling its virtues: “Look! It has drink holders that light up! And a much nicer pattern on the back that gives it a really elegant look!” It’s a little more money but it’s still 50% off! It’s a real deal at this price and I only have 1 left in the warehouse!” Poor Peter. He could feel control of his life slipping away as he stared at the 2 of us, taking sides against the brown recliner. Finally he reached for his wallet.

The deed was done. The black chair would be delivered in 2 days. At home I talked up the new chair and how good it would look in our living room. We made plans to get the old chair out to the curb where, after a few days, someone needier than we were picked it up. The old chair was not in landfill; it had a new home.

Peter was still wary. When the chair arrived, it was in a huge box, in 2 pieces. Another challenge. But the kind delivery men set it up. Peter sat down gingerly. He found the buttons on the side, and it took some time to figure them out. Then slowly, slowly his chair reclined. He settled back. He reached for the remote. He smiled.

The Chairman was in control, and happy, again.

Sue