For years now, I’ve wanted an old rocking chair in which to sit and play banjo. There were a few requirements for the perfect chair:
- The perfect rocking chair has to be old. I don’t want to be the first owner of a new rocker. I want to be the last owner of an old one.
- It had to be free (or dirt cheap). A hand-me-down is always best, but I’ll settle for one abandoned on the street (call it a hand-me-down from an anonymous donor).
- The arms have to be low enough that I can play banjo while I rock.
Yesterday I was driving to get groceries, and I saw a perfect candidate:
Clearly this will not be the first time it has been reupholstered. The last time, someone nailed thick, ugly, orange shag-carpeting to a thin plywood board, and covered it with velour material. I don’t know what they were thinking. If you paid a thousand top research scientists a million dollars each to come up with the perfect cat-scratching toy, I think they would develop a rocking chair with shag-rug cushioning and velour fabric. The only difference is that the commercial version would be infused with catnip and cost 89 grand.
It will look a lot better when I’m done with it, or at least a lot less nauseating. Anyway, the frame is sturdy, and it, you know, rocks.