It All Started With a Song


Sometimes one thing can turn into another. Sometimes a song becomes a project. Or tee-shirts become a quilt. Or rundown pieces of furniture become useful members of your household.

Take the chair I saw by the side of the road.  My son told me it originally appeared with two of its own kind but in the intervening day and a half the chair had been deserted by its kin and was now all alone.

Chair - Before


Stray chairs at the side of the road aren’t, as a rule, odd.  Set out by some family that no longer has a use for them, these chairs appear as sidewalk runaways. Often some intrepid would-be furniture savior comes along and decides to adopt them. Sometimes the chair is checked out and found to be wanting by several people before its inevitable date with the back end of a garbage truck.  I always feel a little sad to see furniture that once cradled the bums of happy diners meet such a regrettable fate. Other times the good bones shine through the dirt and stained upholstery.

This explains why I have had up to eight chairs of various provenance sitting in my garage or basement just waiting to be warmed by some ass once again.

What was odd about this chair is that I live at the outer edge of a subdivision still in progress. This lonely chair wasn’t in front of a house or even on a sidewalk. It was standing upright on a small mound of earth that was churned up by a hulking piece of heavy machinery on its way to dig yet another hole in which to plant a new house.  Not the kind of place where you’d expect a homeless chair waiting for a friend.

I imagined that chair to be quietly humming to itself as it waited. Perhaps it was singing the lyrics to Once in a Lifetime and imagining it was wearing a Big Suit. “And you may ask yourself, Well, how did I get here?”

How could I turn uTalkingHeadsStopMakingSense600p a chair that wanted to be David Byrne? I took it home and left it to wait some more. I imagined it to be happy to be out of the weather but it was probably pretty bored sitting in the dark in my garage. Homeless and free? Or sheltered but bored? Poor chair didn’t have much say in the matter, given that it doesn’t know the code to our garage door.

I liked this chair’s taste in music so when it was time to turn one of our bedrooms into my office I chose this chair to be my new seat mate. The how-to and the big reveal will come in a future post.

In the meantime, throw on your Talking Heads cassette tape and rock out to the tall guy with the big shoulders.

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