Old Yellow

I'm thinking about renaming the old, yellow, beat up, threadbare recliner that Carol bought at a yard sale years ago. I loved that chair and spent many hours in it, dozing, reading, watching TV and dozing some more. I always thought of it as “Old Yellow.” The mechanism has broken several times, and the last time I fixed it by replacing the busted linkage with a piece of electric fence wire. Several generations of dogs have left their smell and some of their hair is embedded in it, but to me it smells like home.

Eventually we bought a new recliner and retired the old one to storage, hopefully for a yard sale of its own. The new one, while a lot better looking, just never felt right to me. After several failed attempts to sell the outcast, it sat forgotten in the back of our shop covered with other junk, until some friends who were furnishing a new house came over. They were looking for good deals on furniture so Carol took them out to the shop to see if we had anything that they could use.

They picked out a desk, some old end tables, an office chair, and the old recliner. I helped them load their pickup, but when we got to Old Yellow I suddenly felt like I was losing a dear friend. “Wait a minute,” I said, “There's another one in the den that you would probably like better!”

“You can't be serious!” Carol said, as we went in the house. A few minutes later we carried out the newer chair and loaded it up.

“I never liked that chair.” I said, “It just didn't feel comfortable, and I can fix anything that's broken on the old one.”

The old yellow recliner resumed its place in the den, and after I sat down in it for the first time in several years, I realized what I had been missing; all of the lumps, valleys and creases were in exactly the right place, and I could have easily dozed off right then and there.

Sitting down and pulling the foot rest lever back is like sinking into a comfortable cloud, and to read or watch TV for any length of time without falling asleep is a real challenge for me. Sometimes I'm awakened by a loud rattling noise and it takes me a few seconds to realize that it was my snoring that so rudely interrupted my dreams.

When the dogs hear the clunk of the footrest going out they know that my lap is available and it only takes a few seconds before they both have joined me. With them in my lap it's difficult to read, so I usually turn out the lamp, lay down my book and ...zzzzz.

Maybe I'll name it “Serenity.”