A pair of them
June 15, 2010 (Tuesday)
I am the proud owner of two magic chairs. They are both recliners. They must be magical, because they possess a power few other chairs possess: they put me to sleep.
One of the chairs belonged to my father-in-law. After his death, our family in Rockport inherited the chair. Of course, like all “real men” everywhere, I, the husband and father, claimed what was rightfully mine. There’s a bit of Archie Bunker in all of us men, I think. In due time, it began to show many signs of wear, and so Wanda decreed that its time to go had come. Together we shopped for a new recliner.
We found a replacement, and the furniture store delivered it. At first, it didn’t feel just right, but in time, the Goldilocks syndrome kicked in, and it was “just right.” Our decision was to take the old recliner to the dump ground, but my personal agenda was to save it at any cost, so it ended up in the study where its presence would encourage solitude and comfort when reading. There it stayed until I went back to Timbergrove Baptist Church in 2008, and it has been in my living room in Houston ever since.
Both chairs have the same magical quality. I sit in them and watch T.V. If I try to make it through an entire movie, I’m nearly always unsuccessful, because somewhere along the line, I let the chair move to the reclining position, and then it does its magic routine. It summons the spirit of sleep. Sleep comes, but it’s a magical sleep because I only remember waking up, never going to sleep. The chair at Rockport follows an identical routine. So they are both magic chairs, I believe. They can do something no other chairs can do, and I’m grateful to each of them.