rocking chairs

Kristen and I are now the proud owners of our FOURTH rocking chair. Not in the sense of having previously owned three other rocking chairs that each are no more, but in the sense that we now have four total. It is some kind of fetish or addiction that we can't really explain, but here goes.

Our Beloved Rocking Chairs are each a unique expression of craftsmanship, and are, to one degree or another, antiques that are still standing and useful. We have our lil' guy, perfect for our two-year-old neice and nephew to sit and rock and be. We have the one that I jacked from a curb in Johnson County, that place where things imperfect or un-pretty end up on someone's curb. We have our treasure of a rocker, one that clearly found itself in the caring hands of an antique dealer who restored it to its glory. And now we have the new, slender and curving, wicker and wet-wood-bent rocker, which we welcome into our home with the excitement of a newborn (okay, that may be a bit of an overstatement).

Second, as a lover of porches, it is a logical step to be a lover of rocking chairs. Nothing makes evenings spent on a porch more enjoyable than a good strumming of the guitar to the rhythym of the rocking. It even gives rhythym to the beer drinking and conversation.


Finally, it is one more piece that helps me connect back to a generation that understood life in a slower and deeper way. In our high-speed busy busy world, a rocking chair invites us to slow down and enjoy a steady, subtle motion. Whereas most chairs are places of comfort where we enjoy simply-still complacency, good rocking chairs invite us to go one step further: do a little work, and receive the true pleasure of what sitting has to offer.