What is an Orthopaedic Chair?
If the truth were told all o
f us are creatures of habit and if a survey were taken I’m willing to bet that a great number of us have a favourite place to occupy within the home, church, or hall and within this space is a favourite seat or chair. The chair photographed here is that of Judge Richard Jebb; it was from this seat in the Spring Assizes, March, 1820, at Limerick Courthouse that he sentenced John Scanlan, to be hanged for the murder of the Colleen Bawn, on the Shannon: An important chair, occupying an important space, and more importantly giving comfort and ease to the learned judge in his role in the administration of justice.
I was close to home after a brisk constitutional walk on one of those rare bright sunny mornings in winter, when suddenly the sky darkened and a deep shadow descended. Before me blocking my path stood a man of great stature – a giant of a man.
“Aren’t you the lucky man to have met me today” - was how he greeted me. “I’m going out of business and I have a beautiful, quality, leather suite that I’m practically giving away.”
From years of experience I have learned that the “modus operandi” of these travelling salesmen is to counter ones every move to avoid purchasing their ‘must have’ product. And despite this, we are quite often left holding an item that you wonder what possible use you can put it to within minutes of the salesman’s departure.
I’m sorry, I said; I purchased a beautiful quality leather suite some years ago and I have no room for two of them.
Where! He asked.
What do you mean, where? I countered.
“Where did you buy this quality leather suite?”
It was purchased in Casey’s at Raheen, said I, without hesitation.
As quickly as it had descended the shadow lifted; the sun shone again and I was free to continue my journey, while at the same time congratulating myself that I was not left trying to lug a quality leather suite back to my home. I was about to enter the footpath that leads to my front door, when a voice from nowhere shouted: “Hello Sir! Can I interest you in a lovely quality leather suite?”
I was shortly to be joined by a stocky guy; the owner of the voice; and one whom I judged to be about my own age that is to say;- going on elderly. I concluded by the ‘cut of his jib’ and confident demeanour that I had here a client of greater determination to offload than that of his bulkier companion I had encountered earlier. I met your brother earlier: Was how I opened my defence.
“What brother? I’ve no brother,” he replied.
Are there two of you selling quality leather suites? I asked.
“It’s a gorgeous piece and you won’t be disappointed at the price – take a look at it anyway.”
No! I said, I’ve no room for it. He guessed that I had actually been the recipient of an earlier effort to offload by his companion and changed tack.
“I have a lovely chair and you can put it anywhere in the house; it’s made for you.” Was the follow up approach? I felt it was now time to end this conversation and decided to volunteer more information as to why I could not contemplate the purchase of any items of furniture at this time. ‘When I retired from work some years ago I completely refurbished the house – in fact I’m waiting on a skip to rid myself of some of the old discarded stuff out the back.’ This declaration I thought would surely end the conversation.
“Would there be an old ‘dresser’ in it by any chance? – I’ll take it off your hands.”
No dresser, I replied, but there is an old broken-down vacuum cleaner that I can let you have.
“Who would want a broken-down vacuum cleaner?”
I don’t know, I said, but in the right situation it could pass for a nice ornament?
“Come on, he said, you’ll buy the orthopaedic chair from me – it’s made for you?”
The reader will be aware that the chair has now entered a new classification, in that it is described as orthopaedic. Having never heard of, and with no knowledge at all that such a chair existed, I felt for the first time in this whole episode that I was beginning to lose control and somewhat out of my depth. Furthermore, somewhere deep in the recesses of my brain I was not at all comfortable with the word “orthopaedic.”
Would you say I’m a candidate for one of these chairs, I asked him.
“You’d never know;” was his reply.
To strengthen my case and partly convince myself that I was not in need of such a chair or likely to need one in the near future, I resorted to a little exaggeration. ‘I’ll have you know that I have just completed a six mile walk in little over an hour.’ I told him.
“Oh! You’ll be looking for a young one of around thirty so!”
Well my God; I thought; to what lengths will this fellow go to make a sale. Moreover, he must know from my appearance and age that I could hardly keep the woman in food not to mention maintenance. Am I to assume you are speaking from personal experience? I asked with interest.
At that he turned on his heel and made a dash for a white van parked on the far side of the road. “Have you got her in the van?” I shouted, as he slammed the door and drove off without belting up.
Now! I’ve heard of hall chairs, dining room chairs, kitchen chairs, but what (and the purpose of this post) is: AN ORTHOPAEDIC CHAIR?
This is Danny’s Quaint Ireland. It is Cóipcheart © Cois Má 2010
