I love driving on I-49. I enjoy the scenery that is not obstructed by billboards trying to sell me something. On any given day, you can watch a helicopter lifting something, a crop duster dusting, crops growing, pipes being hauled, and you can wave at your favorite Desoto Parish law enforcement officer.
The other day I saw a chair in the median of I-49. It was a nice leather chair at one time.
The bottom cushion was about five miles north of the rest of the chair. The rest of the chair looked like it had been struck by a 1995 Peterbuilt hauling at least three long green pipes. There was not much left of the main part of the chair. It appeared as though the cushion did escape the vehicle first and was saved from total destruction.
The chair in the median reminded me of something I once did. Our daughter who lived in Baton Rouge needed a recliner. We were living in Lake Charles and owned an extra Lazy-Z-Boy recliner. It was a very nice overstuffed recliner that was rather formal looking. It had only been used by a preacher holding his remote control. The chair had never endured cigarette smoke, beer spillage, or dog shedding. The only problem with the chair was it ate a remote control occasionally.
We decided to give the chair to our daughter who needed a chair. I remember the Friday. I loaded the chair on the back of our Ford Ranger and grabbed the passenger seat. Tamara, my wife, asked if we needed to tie the chair down. Since aviation is my hobby, I explained the basics of aerodynamic lift to her. I told her that the chair had the gliding angle of a brick, and since it was close to the cab, it would not get airborne. You see it coming don’t you?
Well, some place on I-10 between 68 and 72 m.p.h. the chair reached a velocity that allowed to become airborne momentarily. We are not sure where or when the chair departed. I remember Tamara looking in the rearview mirror and being able to see the cars behind us because the chair had departed the truck. We had a moment, of wondering if we should go back and claim the recliner, probably sitting in the middle of the road. If our recliner had caused traffic mayhem, we were not sure we wanted to find it. It had not!!
We never found the recliner! It flew away, freed to be found by someone who looks for recliners on the side of the Interstate. Now when I haul it is always tied down, even bricks!
I’m glad God loves preachers who don’t tie down recliners! He loves you as well.