Could I interest you in an airchair? This velvet covered beauty has seen her share of this corner of the world, traveling with Randy from various Wicker Park apartments to our California Avenue bank, to here in Wilmette against my wishes but you know how guys are - not really as ready to surrender as Bruno Kirby was of the wagon wheel coffee table in When Harry Met Sally. Randy didn't so much get attached to the comfort of the chair (it sits a little low and the seat cushion is shot) or its look (although Brent Gearan did paint a magnificent portrait of Randy's father with the chair serving well as his throne) but to its backstory.
Randy picked her up on Maxwell Street, the old Maxwell Street that is, the 120-year-old open-air flea market that has since been shut down by the city, reopened in a prettier incarnation, and shuffled around to its current location in Little Village. Who knows what Chairy had seen by that time. She had a nice shiny spot right where most heads would hit the back and when Randy brought her home, his cat hated the thing. She would hiss and spit at it - a mystery until Randy ducked down to see a little rat face looking back at him from the lining below. Yes.
Just that much is making me kind of sick so I'll skip the awful story about how Randy and his friend disposed of the little passenger.
Now finally, finally, when we are ripping apart our second floor, the chair's time with us has come to an end. I can't say I'm not a little bit sentimental myself - you know how I get. Cause Uncle Phil sat here as he watched Randy and I get married in the bank and Mia toppled over and cried and grabbed for her Santa hat in this chair while I tried to take her first Christmas photo. But we've got the pictures to prove it all so I'm moving on.
Before our last move I called the great organization HOME (Housing Opportunities & Maintenance for the Elderly) for the furniture we didn't want to bring along. Please check HOME out if you are looking to get rid of some household items in good shape - they do great work. I may call them again, but I think I'll have to come clean about the little friend.