In 1979, freshly impoverished, I bought several folding chairs in Dover. "Funeral chairs," said Nancy Wingate. They served their purposes, and I still have two in the Oratory. Lately, after we began to have rain, I brought one down to the garage so I could sit while putting on shoes and anorak or taking shoes off. Thinking fondly of shopping with Nancy, the authority on funerary customs in Orange, Texas, and environs, I took one to the door and looked on the bottom. STAKMORI, it said. Altogether too explicit for funeral chairs, but how could I object, at my age?
I checked just now and Stakmore is still making chairs . . . .
I wonder what is on the bottom of the other one.
I checked just now and Stakmore is still making chairs . . . .
I wonder what is on the bottom of the other one.
No comments:
Post a Comment