[“Old Paint”. Now a part of history…ready for its final ride]
The white Casier truck backed down our driveway. It was 10:30 on a muggy morning. Before ten minutes had passed, we had brand new chairs in our living room. The old L. L. Bean pair of overstuffed sofa-like seats were showing signs of aging. Mariam’s was still in fair shape so a few hours later, a man came in a smaller truck and took hers away later in the day.
Casier (the chair merchant in Saranac Lake) agreed to take mine.
It was over quickly.
Before I had a chance to pull out my red bandana and wipe the stray tear from my cheek.
Before I had a quiet moment with my supportive friend to whisper a few last good-byes and reminisce about the past.
I felt like my Old Yeller was being taken out behind the barn by Fess Parker. Life doesn’t get any harder. Where do old chairs go when they have finished their duty to your weary body? I’d really rather not know. I can’t imagine my heartbreak if I drive out to the Franklin County Transfer Station one pleasant Saturday and see my chair upside-down next to two Barka Loungers, a wicker love seat and a chartreuse sectional.
We bought the chairs in 2000, when we acquired our Adirondack home. In 2011, we moved to the North Country for real. So many hours have been spent in those pale green chairs watching important historical events unfold before our eyes. Several World Series (but don’t ask which ones or who won…I’ve no memory of those things). A few Super Bowls (but we tend to avoid being here in mid-winter, so don’t ask which ones we saw). The second inauguration of Obama. The election of 2016 (again, don’t ask!).
It would be great to say we saw the moon landing, but that was thirty years earlier. I would love to describe our interest at witnessing the Escape From Dannemora, but we were in France at the time.
We did sit through many sad and old films on TCM. A few classic episodes of Hoaders, an intense season of the Bachelorette and two even more intense seasons of 90 Day Fiancee.
Mariam and I were glued to the TV to watch the rise and fall of Walter White in Breaking Bad. And, most proudly, we didn’t run to our sets to check the connections when the black-out occurred at the end of The Sopranos.
All the while, our L. L. Bean chairs sat cheerfully beneath us. My chair took the most wear, however. Because of my dicey back, I can not sit normally. I have to tuck one leg (the left) under the knee of the right. That puts my socked foot against the arm rest…eventually exposing the fiber filling. The tangle of my legs look like a yet un-named Yogi position.
All good things must come to an end…and our lives with our chairs are no exception. So, now we have two new chairs in their place. It’s sad, though, like a bad divorce. Something new and fresh is taking the place of the old and worn out.
The time flew by so fast that I never had time to give my chair a name. I’ve thought it over and decided to call it “Old Paint” after my trusty horse I had when I rode the West Texas range…back in the day.
But, I digress (and besides, that’s another blog).
[The new chair (it reclines)]