Photo(s) of the Day: 'A Man's Chair Is His Throne'

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The editor and his new throne.

On the way ...

In she goes.

Ready for your favorite editor's butt.

A man's chair is his throne and I haven't had a decent one since Brenda Collins put her foot down and made me get rid of my Archie Bunker chair about 20 or so years ago.

Brenda and I were living together at the time and she said my chair smelled, was ugly, had stuffing coming out of it, didn't match anything else in the world and it was the chair or her. I said I didn't understand what her complaint was. This ultimatum came from a woman who had a spinning wheel and a loom in the living room, sitting between me and my TV, which made watching football like sitting behind one of those big support posts in an old stadium.

For Brenda's part, she spun unwashed, freshly shorn (by her) wool  that out-smelled my beloved chair. I never complained. In fact, I found something charming about the whole setup. She didn't. "The chair goes or I go," she said one night. Next day, the chair was at the curb. I found it odd that it sat there for more than two weeks before the city picked it up. Usually, when I sit something out, it's gone--pickers roam the streets, I think--before I get back in the house. I guess the boys didn't recognize a comfy chair when they saw one. Or maybe they smelled it.

The loss of my chair and her damn cats trying to wrap themselves around my head, get in bed with me, peeing on everything and yowling at the moon, finally proved to be too much for domestic bliss, so I found her another place to live and another boyfriend. But I didn't get my chair back. Bummer.

Been looking--in vain--for one ever since. I've gone though a succession of them and finally--TA-DUM!--my prayer has been answered. Leah has these wonderful wood recliners (in leather) and I just love sitting in them when I'm at her home in Lynchburg. But they don't do me any good in Roanoke, so about four weeks ago, she and I went looking for something similar and found it in a wholesale furniture store (Rug, Mattress & Furniture Outlet) in Salem.

I was hoping to keep the expenditure under $1,200 and had little notion of the possibility of that until I asked. The chair I bought--made by the Amish in Ohio, by hand--cost $700. An Internet search for a similar chair later in the day came up with prices between $1,500 and $2,500 for essentially the same chair. I had to wait four weeks to get it because it wasn't made yet, but I picked the fabric and the wood (oak) and the Amish boys put it together for me. It was delivered today and I'm writing this on my laptop, reclined in the chair.

I'm a happy man. A happy man.