Window Theater of the Absurb
I have a lounge chair recliner in my living room. My wife calls it "the Man Chair," and in my defense that particular chair is in fairly good taste as lounge chairs go. It is an older model that has hefty springs on the foot rest that you can let out to recline. I want a foot rest that has some kick so when the parents visit with their little irritating ratdog, I can catapult the little bugger across the room if he acts up. I have rarely found a newer model that has the hefty springs, so you have to sit daintily lest your feet gradually start pushing the foot rest back down.
My wife tolerates the "man chair" (I have offered more than once to get rid of it), but it has to reside beside the couch next to the far wallin outer darkness where there is weeping and gnashing of teeth. The space is actually good because it has a good view not only of the TV, but also out the front window, across our driveway and down the street. Because it is an older model, it does not have a drink holder, so I can place my beverage of choice on a coaster on the window sill as well and leave the arms available for the TV remotes.
The other night I was sitting in the Man Chair, and as Mrs. Archer was not home, I was attempting to watch the baseball game despite the interrupting weatherman's best efforts. We have odd neighbors in the house next door. They are nice enough folks, but there is always an odd assortment of strange chaps there.Mohawk Man has not made an appearance for a while, so perhaps progress is being made.
In any event, about 7:30 or 8, a minivan pulls up in front of their house. Because they are obviously well behaved social bugs, they always have a ever changing fleet of cars hovering around their house. (Why they bought a house without a driveway I will never understand, but that's beside the point.) The residents are a younger crowd, so the minivan caught my attention. It sort of sat there for a while, so I went back to the weather report/ball game.
About five minutes later, the owner, a gaggle of about 5 other people, and two ratdogs come out of house and proceed to stand around the minivan. (Everybody needs a hobby, I guess.) Again, I didn't think much about it. The proceed to open up the back hatch of the minivan, and there sits a large sofa-style couch. Again, I didn't think much about it.
The ratdog-human herd proceeded to then retreat back into the house in what appeared to be military precision, leaving the minivan open. Five minutes later, the ratdog-human herd comes back out, gets the couch out, and moves it into the house. Keep in mind, this is all in the rain. So they were moving a couch in, ok.
Five minutes later, the ratdog-human herd returns with said couch, proceed to load it back into the minivan, and then pile into said minivan. Ratdog-human herd, couch and minivan then drive off into the mist.
A Circus Act in the comfort of my Man Chair: Life is Good.
My wife tolerates the "man chair" (I have offered more than once to get rid of it), but it has to reside beside the couch next to the far wall
The other night I was sitting in the Man Chair, and as Mrs. Archer was not home, I was attempting to watch the baseball game despite the interrupting weatherman's best efforts. We have odd neighbors in the house next door. They are nice enough folks, but there is always an odd assortment of strange chaps there.
In any event, about 7:30 or 8, a minivan pulls up in front of their house. Because they are obviously well behaved social bugs, they always have a ever changing fleet of cars hovering around their house. (Why they bought a house without a driveway I will never understand, but that's beside the point.) The residents are a younger crowd, so the minivan caught my attention. It sort of sat there for a while, so I went back to the weather report/ball game.
About five minutes later, the owner, a gaggle of about 5 other people, and two ratdogs come out of house and proceed to stand around the minivan. (Everybody needs a hobby, I guess.) Again, I didn't think much about it. The proceed to open up the back hatch of the minivan, and there sits a large sofa-style couch. Again, I didn't think much about it.
The ratdog-human herd proceeded to then retreat back into the house in what appeared to be military precision, leaving the minivan open. Five minutes later, the ratdog-human herd comes back out, gets the couch out, and moves it into the house. Keep in mind, this is all in the rain. So they were moving a couch in, ok.
Five minutes later, the ratdog-human herd returns with said couch, proceed to load it back into the minivan, and then pile into said minivan. Ratdog-human herd, couch and minivan then drive off into the mist.
A Circus Act in the comfort of my Man Chair: Life is Good.
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