At some point in the 80s my parents abandoned the console TV (or it abandoned them) and decided to put in one of those newfangled entertainment centers. Rather than get a flimsy one from the local furniture stores, they commissioned the shop teacher from our high school to build one. It was in three seven-foot tall sections and made of solid oak. The upper cupboards had built in lights and the center section was deep enough for a 27 inch state-of-the-art TV. My brother got bookshelf speakers, a cassette deck, and a JVC receiver so they had a stereo to set up inside it. They even had a surge protector that of course led to an ungrounded outlet. It was a massive beast when fastened together and weighs in at a few hundred pounds. As far as they were concerned, it was to be there for eternity.
Um no. A couple years ago I moved the lightest piece downstairs. We are going to get flooring in the living room and this behemoth was going to be moved. And if it was going to be moved we might as well do it right and move the damn thing from the first floor. We spent Saturday stripping all the books, knickknacks, DVDs, and CDs out of it. Yesterday was the day of retribution on this piece that my brother referred to as “suburban oak”.
My cousin the Singing Farmer came over and after removing the Allen screws holding the two big sections together we got it free of the deep groove it had created in the carpet. We took off the doors and pulled out the glass shelves. Then we laid the biggest piece down and slid it to the laundry room. I put rugs under it so it wouldn’t scrape the floor and we aimed it down the stairwell. With my cousin bracing the end facing downstairs we slid it down the carpeted staircase. I thought it would stand up once we got it downstairs but the ceilings are too low. So we carried the big piece into the old spare bedroom and laid it on the floor. Then we repeated the same process with the smaller and only somewhat lighter second piece.
I carried down the doors and shelves to rest on or against those two pieces, took one last look, and shut the door. If mom’s ghost wants it to last an eternity, there it is. Right next to her beat-to-shit maple bedroom furniture.
My back is a little stiff this morning. Spending forty minutes shoveling snow this AM didn’t help but hey, it was good cardio. So that’s how I spent my weekend. Now back to Christmas prep, cat maintenance, and rewriting. And the suburban oak enjoys its well-earned slumber.