A bizarre, consuming, fascinating portrait of the stationary life.
Speaking of old movies:
Kelly says:
And people say dinosaurs and domesticated animals and swivel chairs never existed at the same time.
Thanks, Kelly.
That whole thing about March and its intractable name was too much to handle. The best suggestion (of two!?) that I received was Armarchair, with the inclusion of arms making the "marchair" thing a little easier to stomach. I'm not sure how far I'm willing to obscure the actual month name in service to the gimmick. Probably farther than I've been willing to admit... but let's try to have something better in mind for next year. And, you know. For May.
While investigating the house from which we purchased our stunning new recliner, I happened upon a strange phenomenon...
That shadily-motived creature, the duck - normally content to float upon the squalor of our local waterways - had found its way into the home.
But it was not one rogue agent. Lawdamershee, nosuh. It was a full-blown pair.
They were beautiful, yes. Majestic, I will grant you. But they were far from their fullest glory. Where two can gather, more can flock. We were not blessed with that occurrence on that day, but I hope one day to see the legendacious Sitting Vee. Until such a time, say, "La."
Please, contain your movie jokes. Your, "Dude, does anyone remember The Mighty Ducks??" There are more creative ways to entertain than continually, endlessly, abysmally recollecting the passive visual consumption of your youth. Remember, you hadn't known anything better then. You don't have that excuse anymore.
So we moved. The day after the last update, we commenced a three-day process of translocating all of our biznass to another house across town. It was... well, it was fun. We discovered we had a lot more chairs than we thought. This was a pleasant coincidence. /me looks upward
Really? A weak IRC joke? I haven't been on IRC in years.
In honor of our new home, my family graciously acquired a new recliner, as well as a couch. The couch is beautiful, but we just don't "go there" at this place. We're not "all about that." We are, of course, all about chairs, and here's my mom looking mischievous in our new chair at its old home.
We purchased it from a gentleman in his early nineties, still hale and looking like a man seven-ninths of his age. He had moved from up north, from the house he had built for his family decades ago. He took great care of his furniture, and we were all too happy to give them a new home.
I hope to have a picture of it in its new location, when we get the place tidied up a bit.
Does anybody have any ideas for a good way to ruin the name of this month with the word "chair?"
I don't know if the change is irreversible, but maintaining this website has made me notice things I wouldn't have paid too much attention to elsewise. Like the brand of conditioner others prefer. That one's been coming up a lot lately. It seems like there was another one I wanted to mention, but just because you notice something doesn't mean you remember it.
So while walking down the hall of my local collegiate institution this morning, as I have done many times, lo these many years, I glanced into one of the conference rooms and nearly lost my lunch. Fortunately my reflexes proved to be superior to my reflexives and the brown bag containing my sandwich was only fumbled with for a moment. (Oh, you guuuuys.) In a room adjacent to some of the offices, replete with security blanket glass, what should I see but this beautiful array?
Such plenty! Such stature! Such potential to comfortably relax the head! The door was locked, so I could do nothing but gaze, yearn, and snap surreptitious photographs. This may not be acceptable behavior.
As I was preparing this post, I happened upon a young lady who had, in fact, sat in one of these chairs before. She had this to say: "With each chair customly-fit for the dean as well as the upper echelon of Arts and Sciences faculty, one must hope for better luck than that of Goldilocks, because one might find one's self in a cavernous ruin [seat intended for one much larger]," and then she said some more things about the glories of finding the perfect fit, but I couldn't write quickly enough. She did leave me with this last bit of advice: "Choose quickly, and choose well."
Personalized chairs designed to accommodate our academics' every crevasse? Is this the status of the affairs? We can only hope! As the Italians might say, "Che bella vita!"
Conclusion, finally, of the five-part series.
So, there's been a real emphasis on the blatant danger present in these pictures. But I could just as easily have extolled the adoration that exists among the subjects of these photographs. I would not be doing my full and responsible duty to you - but it would be more accurate.
To do the "after the movie" tidbits: Samantha purchased both the crab and the quintropus (previously misreported as having only four appendages), and named them Seven and Calypso, respectively. Feel free to go back and look at these images as family portraits rather than pre-traumagraphs.
...Is there a difference between the two? (Ka-zing at the now-classic idea of familial dysfunction!!)
So this picture of Calypso is, potentially, just a lovely shot of a younger sibling enjoying the comforts of a perfectly-suited chair. What is the intended martket for a seat that size, by the way? I love the look of it, the proportions - but, really?
Just as easily, it is a malevolent demigod, sated and perching upon a spindly throne. But, you know, take it as you like.