Taking a Stand: If my couch goes then I go with it
Every man has a certain possession to which he has a special connection, a possession which women do their best to separate from them.
For some men, it’s an old ratty T-shirt with mustard stains on it or a tattered pair of old tennis shoes with the soles flopping off. For others it may be something like an old junker car which burns more oil than gas and hasn’t taken to the road in years.
The reason for this hanging on to old things, whether it be sentimental or a sense of attachment, kind of like Linus had an attachment to his security blanket, is beyond me. All I know is it’s a guy thing and it’s very likely every guy reading this column can relate to what I’m saying.
For me, it’s an old burnt orange section sofa I bought 14 years ago for $30. It was being stored in some lady’s basement where we had to shew the dog off it to load it into the truck. I was able to get the dog smell out of it over time, but it still had that slightly used look about it, with strings hanging out. However, in its defense, the thing is huge and could probably cover a football field and with a new covering, it’d be like a $2,000 sofa.
So anyway, I used to have the sofa upstairs in the “guy room” but it ended up being transferred to Jack’s room when we switched around a few years ago. Despite its size, it fits well against the wall where it provides comfortable sitting. And talk about comfortable, it’s like sitting on a big, ugly, orange cloud. I’ve spent many a night snoozing on it since it’s the most comfortable couch I’ve ever had. You can’t just go out and buy comfort like that.
But, of course, given my attachment to the couch, my wife is making noise she wants ol’ orange out of the house. She claims it’s ugly and she wants space to put other stuff in Jack’s room. She claims it’s going sometime this year.
What is it with women and a guy’s possessions? Is it jealousy? Is it a need to separate a guy from all his other attachments? Is it a territory thing? After all, what did that couch ever do to her?
I guess the only thing that has kept it in the house this long is my deliberate statement that if the couch goes, I go. A man has to put his foot down sometime, draw a line in the sand so to speak. Well, my line is the orange couch.
Heck, if I let the couch go, I might as well say good-bye to my masculinity because then she becomes the all-powerful slayer of the orange couch and begins wearing the pants in the family. Then she starts eyeing other stuff. What’s next? My football jerseys? My dog?
No, there has to be a time when a guy puts his foot down, a time when he stands firm against these women. After all, women obviously take a class in separating men from their prize possessions. I think it’s a package deal where they learn how to skillfully hide the remote controls from their men. There’s no way they just naturally come by these qualities. It’s kind of like a version of the dark side from “Star Wars” where women use their force for evil.
Can I permanently prevent the orange couch from taking the long walk to the junkyard? Probably not. Women generally get what they want eventually, after wearing down a man with constant gripping.
However, I’m dedicated to keeping old orange alive as long as possible. I know better than to take an extended vacation out of town without the wife because that’s when things disappear. Of course there’s also yard sales, which are enterprises invented by women to get rid of their men’s prize possessions. Nothing is sacred when a yard sale is afoot.
(Duane Sherrill is a reporter for the Standard. He can be reached at 473-2191 or by e-mail at standard@blomand.net.)