I knew when I settled into my recliner on Wednesday night that I
was entering a spot from which there is little hope of escape.
I knew when I settled into my recliner on Wednesday night that I was entering a spot from which there is little hope of escape.
It absorbed me in its soft arms and brought my legs above my heart as a way of letting me relax. My chair let me know that the stresses of the day were now just a distant memory and that I was the king of my castle. It whispered to me to relax and kick back, that everything was going to be all right.
The next thing I knew it was 1:20am and an exercise machine infomercial was flickering on the television. The chair had tricked me again, offering me respite from my troubles while jealously keeping me from the comfort of my bed.
Now I had to get up, trip over my shoes, turn off the TV, walk down the hall and brush my teeth before trying to reacquire the comfort that the chair had provided. There was little hope of that, and it took me another half-hour to fall asleep again.
Men are suckers for a good chair. Some of us prefer a recliner; others like a rocker; some are lucky enough to have a rocking recliner or a rocking recliner with massage features. Some guys even have a massaging, rocking, reclining chair with a drink and newspaper holder and room for the remote control.
Give us a place to rest in front of the TV and we couldn’t care less what the rest of the room looks like. Couches don’t match? No big deal, as long as our chair is there. Carpet is outdated? So what? Our chair isn’t.
A man’s chair in front of the television is like his throne. From here we control the entertainment options, usually at a rapid pace without settling on a single program. We ask our kids to get us something from the kitchen – though it doesn’t always work – and we give the family pet a welcome pat on the back if it decides to pay the king a visit.
But mostly, a man’s chair is his sleeping pill.
My dad’s dad had a red leather chair from which he would command the room. If one of his grandchildren happened to be sitting in it when he entered the room, they knew to scamper away to the couch. If he was already there when the kids entered, they were welcome to sit on his lap high atop his roost.
My mom’s dad had a recliner that would knock him out within minutes. As soon as the work boots came off and the black socks were peeled off, Grandpa was in La-La Land. On the rare occasions when this chair didn’t usher him off to a quick nap, we grandkids could join him on the chair. But most of the time, we just waited for him to succumb to its velvety touch and fall asleep, leaving control of the television to us.
This chair was our ally.
Women have places where they prefer to sit and watch television or read a book, but I’m not sure they are as territorial as men when it comes to chairs. Many men have a reserved spot at the dinner table, as evidenced by the glares that guests get if they happen to sit in the chair without knowing that their sitting in a reserved parking spot.
Most men also consider the driver’s seat of any vehicle as “their spot,” since it gives them a sense of control. Many women feed this power trip because they know that it just means they will be chauffeured, as they deserve to be.
We men are Captain Kirk when we sit in our favorite chair, though unfortunately we don’t get to order a jump to warp speed from our Barcalounger. We are the king of our domain, occasionally granting an audience to guests. Ultimately, we are lazy bums who fall asleep during “The Tonight Show” and wake up with a stiff neck while some English guy is trying to sell us a cleaning product. It is painful, but we will be back tomorrow night. Even when it wrongs us, we always come back to our favorite chair.
