My blog references junk shop materialism and the weight of my belongings – to whit a blog appropriate blog about my sometime oppressive furniture and the gravity field of history that surrounds all stuff.

Title: Couches

I know I promised to start with my review of the film The Hours, which is a fine film well worth blogging about, however a new detail draws my focus. Several months ago I had a blue couch. The couch was inherited from Brad when he moved out. Before Brad moved in here from his parent’s house, he lived in the Daboliver neighborhood with our friend Mitchell. Mitchell is a very talented artist who very rarely arts – some of his paintings used to be on display in the SUB in the ville (for those of you in the know) as the University bought several. When in gender crisis he filled Baldwin hall’s seconmd floor display space with angry vaginas. He went on to get an advanced degree from Northwestern in Chicago, but ended up doing computer and payroll support for telemarketers (I think that’s what he did – or was doing when he was here). R and I let him set up a studio in the basement (all his studio stuff is still there & has been added to by what furniture could not go with him when he moved to his parents house (a bed and yet another couch) – from which he subsequently fled to Texas & from where he has no plans to return), but he really only worked in his studio a very few times. I began referring to him as, “the artist in residence,” which I think made him uncomfortable. (I watched The Hours on Mitchell’s DVD player, which is the item he gave me in exchange for dealing with his abandoned stuff). Mitchell had/has a dog named Jasper Johns, which to the art savvy should be a clear referent. This little wiener dog destroyed that back pillows of the blue couch and generally gave it the worn appearance it had when Brad moved in. The day the blue couch came we took the old green couch of R’s to her new place and put it in her basement for her. As Brad and I carried the couch from the truck – R walked along side with her palms face up saying that she was helping by doing Reiki (a Japanese form of Energy work), she was trying to be cute – to make a difficult situation better by making a light joke about where I work I guess. Every time I cleaned that couch it seemed I would find a new toy from R’s childhood, most significant would be the large silver Loan Ranger cap gun that had been in there for years. R’s green couch had replaced the two white couches that I left in the ville. I gave them both to Mark, and when Mark did his house upgrade he and Bob took both the couches out to the ville’s dump and watched a tractor drive back and forth over them until they were driftwood. How many parties had those couches seen? One of those white couches was Beth’s from her divorce and the other was given to me/left behind by my ex “double A” Stephanie (she’s a professional volleyball player – hence double a for the double a team status). She left it when she moved to the coast to train Parrots for Bush Gardens Williamsburg. Whenever I see the parrot scene with the Playboy bunny in the extended version of Apocalypse Now, I think of Stephanie. So anyway this blue worn out couch had large stains from drink spills and tears from Jasper and my dog Sebastian. For a time Erica would not sit on the blue couch, but that story doesn’t quite fit here (I have to tease you a little bit) suffice it to say… no, I’m going to back slowly away from that story. Anyway, I needed a new couch. Angela and I found a gray four piece sectional at Goodwill that was in pretty good shape. One of the pieces was a fold out bed and one a recliner. We grabbed my neighbor Neil and his truck and loaded the couch up one piece on top of another (Neil has a small truck bed). He took pictures when we got back and there was much laughing about the ridiculous stack of sections, like hatboxes decreasing in size and tied up with ribbons. We took the blue couch out and set it by the curb, ville style. I was a little embarrassed by the couch on the side of the road, but I was sure someone would pick it up. I safety pinned “Free to a good home” signs on it and waited. It rained. The wet blue couch with torn cushions and no back pillows, so once you sat down it was a real effort to get back up, sat there for weeks collecting the fall leaves. I asked the neighbors if they minded, they didn’t, we all get along quite well. The day before U-city’s large trash item pickup – where you can put out washing machines and snow blowers – someone took the couch and gave it a home. This all comes up today because this afternoon I looked out my front window and there was a white couch in the front yard, exactly where I’d left the blue one. My townhouse neighbors, who I was worried about embarrassing, have copied me, getting their own goodwill couch and pitching the worn one. The key difference would be that theirs was not so worn and was gone to a new home by five pm. I guess some people clear their baggage faster than others.

I am going to Angela’s tonight for Pasta del Magnifico Allagarga (Pasta with heavy cream, cognac’, mint, basil, and other spices). She, Adrian, and I will watch the final Sex In The City in front of her fireplace. I am instructed to come early in order to build the fire and hook up her new DVD player so she can watch The Hours on the one week rental tip.