How Stupid Is That?

Enough of all this serious talk about culture. It's bloody August, and everyone's out to lunch on the beach or in the mountains or wherever anyway, so it's the perfect time for an episode of...

How Stupid Is That?

About 10 years ago, I went shopping for a living room armchair and was appalled by the prices. I had fixed in my mind a gorgeous leather armchair with matching ottoman I'd bought many years before (around 1963 or so), and for which I'd laid out some $500 which in terms of that year's money was a huge sum. The approximate same thing 10 years ago had a price tag of some $2800!

Screw this, I thought. I'm going to buy me one a them tacky La-Z-Boy recliner thingies instead; you know, the ones that have that built-in footrest that pops up when you sit back hard against the recliner's back.

So I set off shopping and I'm stunned. Those tacky things cost some $500 at cheapest! Not for me. Not in this life. I simply refuse to lay out that kind of money for something that tacky. I'm about ready to go home when I see an armchair on sale at the back of the store. A really cheesy-looking, no-name, non-La-Z-Boy-type regular stuffed armchair upholstered in yucky beige corduroy fabric. Price: $125.

Sold!

And that's the armchair I've been living with for the past 10 years, and each time I sit in it I expect it to start falling apart so cheesy is it. But it hasn't done so yet even though it's made threatening noises suggesting it was about to do so a couple times. And whenever I settle in to listen to music, or read, or watch a movie, I have to drag a table chair from the kitchen to use as a footrest. It's a royal pain in the ass to have to do that, and it doesn't feel right when I put my feet up on it because the seat is a bit too high for a footrest, but what can I do but make do.

Last night, I wanted to watch a DVD, but the air conditioner is making such a whooshing racket I can't hear the TV sound very well, so I figure I'll just drag the armchair closer to the TV for the nonce, and set up there. I try to manhandle the thing by grasping it by its back, but it's damned heavy, and I have to drag it on a wood floor and then over a rug, and it's giving me all sorts of grief, so I switch tactics. Instead of grasping it by its back, I go round to the front of the armchair, grasp it under the upholstered front panel that runs from the seat to the floor, lift the armchair onto its back feet, and start pulling.

Uh-oh. I'm in trouble now. The damn front panel starts breaking away from the armchair, and I immediately let go of it so that the front of the armchair drops back down onto its front feet again. I try to assess the damage, but can't see under the armchair to see just how extensive the damage might be. Then I think, "Oh, the hell with it! If the panel breaks off, it breaks off. It's time for another armchair anyway. And this time, tacky as it is, I'll spring for a La-Z-Boy recliner so I'll at least have a proper footrest."

So I grasp the armchair under the upholstered front panel again, lift, and start pulling. Sure enough, the panel again starts breaking away from the armchair, but I keep on pulling; keep on pulling until the panel breaks away from the armchair completely, revealing itself not broken but the top portion of a built-in La-Z-Boy-recliner-type footrest — a two-position footrest, the first for an almost upright sitting position, the second for an almost fully reclining position, that pops up when one sits back hard against the armchair's back — that's been there all along for these past 10 years, but which I never knew existed.

Now I ask you, How stupid is that?