Examples of the chairs of
antiquity can be scrutinized in museums or exhumed from the family attic. One
gets the foreboding feel that he has stumbled across the reason history records
one inhumane tyrant after another, even gains a certain sympathy for
grandmother’s short temper. Certainly, within my lifetime, the chair has been
improved by leaps and bounds, but on closer inspection, I noticed a tendency for
these leaps and bounds, no matter how high, to land the chair only a few
millimeters away from its starting point.
Let us journey to the bus stop, on
our world tour of inventions for seating. Here in this desolate outpost, I
think, may be found the benchmark of man’s search for a design to sit upon, to
date. There will be time. The north-bound bus arrives, and turns back, forty
minutes before its south-bound counterpart does the same, adding a nice round
hour to each of the guesstimated 500 round trips made each day. Hours that might
be just as gainfully utilized standing in the lines of any of the myriad social
service agencies. One might think that running both the busses straight through,
or having them meet, would enhance the schedule, but then one is not a preparer
of esoteric bus schedules.
Here, at some time in the distant
past, the bus company erected a shelter, that patrons might while away the
hours, seated in relative comfort. Shortly after the construction crew left,
years before I first set my eyes upon it, vandals knocked out most of the
protecting panels, letting in the brisk cold wind and driving rain. I am not
convinced that I will see the day when repairs are done.
Suffice it to say, temporarily
disengaged bus passengers stand around near the shelter for the duration, unless
the elements outdo themselves. Then they huddle, standing in the devastated
remains, taking advantage of what little protection it still provides. So
powerful a statement the seat therein makes, none dare sit upon it, except one
grossly overweight lady. She sits on the seat in the shelter. I’ve timed it.
Never has she lasted longer than twelve minutes before straddling painfully up
onto her over-stressed underpinnings.
Take note of the homeless in any
major metropolis. You will never see them reposing on a metal grate, right? At
least not while they are still alive. This is the design of the bench in the bus
shelter, a bench with a metal grate to sit on. I expect it wears well, and at
least it hasn’t been stolen, yet.
Behind every chair looms the hard,
cold rock the first came man sat upon. The stone throne the Pharaohs rules from.
The dunking stool. The electric chair… Why is it that great minds have not seen
fit to turn their attention to the chair? Few times in history has a prominent
name been attached to a chair, excepting those instances when they have been
given credit for a decorative embellishment.
Behind me reposes an assortment of chairs. These chairs have been
bought, in good faith, by friends and family. All are more uncomfortable, in
spite of the advertising and assurances of the salesmen, than this worn out
fugitive from the kitchen table, rescued from the curb, that I am using. More,
to its credit, it withstands the hard use an author’s chair is subject to.
I am moved to dedicate my life and resources,
impending cost of living adjustment. Of course, the increased cost of
energy might be mitigated by lower costs for: medical care, dental care,
clothing, food, shelter, transportation, and other luxuries I can do well
without. Wait….all those things have increased. No mitigation in sight. I
suppose if the cost of a yacht has declined, that might provide an offset.
Up to this juncture, I harbored the erroneous impression that the cost
of living was based on dollars spent by the consumer. The propaganda with which
I am constantly bombarded assures me that the formula used grossly overstates
the increases to the cost of living.
Now I have looked into this conundrum
and realize that the true cost of living is based elsewhere, in poetry perhaps.
One must only breathe, circulate blood, and think to be legally alive. These
activities occur without incurring much expense. Air is still fairly cheap. Now
I can see how the increased cost of living is being grossly overstated. It’s
good to know how things work. And it’s grand to have a trusty old chair that
will cost me nothing (the rough equivalent of the SS cost of living increase)
this year. One could almost say that a good chair is the one true source of all
happiness. Salvation Army truck, just keep truckin.’
About The Author
Gordon Graves is a long-time member and frequent contributor to
Calliope. He lives in Seaside, Oregon, with quite a few spiders, and a
stray cat that spends her time outdoors, due to her propensity to remodel/
destroy artifacts and an unaccountable lack of interest in spiders.
Also, being an overbearing egotist,
Gordon A. Graves takes unkindly to any help said cat offers with his writing,
especially her valiant efforts to get pages being printed out of the printer.
Gordon’s writing life started at the
end of fourth grade. After nearly four years of getting every English
assignment or test back with red marks as to be entirely unintelligible and with
a big red “F” at the top, his class was assigned an essay for homework. He
turned in “Now they think I write Chinese,” which came back with one red mark,
excepting the “A+”.
In addition to numerous stories
published in
Calliope and other small press publications over the years, Gordon
has work scheduled to appear in
Aoife’s Kiss,
NutHouse,
Artella, and
Sinister Tales.
Early man no doubt occasion-ally rested
his nether regions on logs and convenient rocks, probably foregoing
anthills after an initial trial. As soon as he mastered a few tools,
man no doubt made minor improve-ments on selected seats. With the
advent of the spirit level and the
T-square, the chair, stone or wood, began to take shape. By the
middle ages, one can easily imagine the Marquis de Sade having had
some influence.
thin as they are, to the development of the chair. The resources
amount to little more than Social Security, and its supposed cost of
living adjustment.
At first, when I learned of the adjustment, I was amazed. I
took note of the amount of the increase, then calculated the
increased cost, to me, spent for energy this past year…alone. I
found, to my surprise and disenchantment, that I must pay more now
for energy than the
Copyright © Gordon A. Graves