Steam Punk Table

The "steam punk" table (different than a punk steam table) I spied and purchased at the Salvation Army store in Boulder on Saturday did find its way up the canyon yesterday, thanks to Tenille and her father Bill.   Here are some photos of the underpinnings of the table.  (Yes, I discovered last evening that once I downloaded some new software Kodak had been trying to get me to download, I could, once again, take the photos off my camera.  Still can't print and efforts to communicate with Kodak techs via phone yesterday were not successful).  Note the magnificent hinged legs (on the table, not the Kodak techs), extra heavy-duty springs, and hinged leaves that remain down even when you flip the table over as I found out when I was taking these photos.  I did some on-line research and find that today's versions are called adjustable, convertible, hi-low, flip- or lift-top tables and they come in rectangular and pie shapes, offer storage and are raised and lowered with all sorts of mechanisms including gas pistons.  They also seem to range in price from $159.98 to $2,195, with $300-$400 being about average.  So, I'm still happy with my $17 outlay.

I'm not going to show you the top of this table until I decide what to do with it, but you can see the underside of one of the leaves.  The dark Formica-like veneer reminds me of some furniture I had back in the late sixties.  But I do like the sort of Frank Lloyd Wrightish detail on the legs and the brass touches and casters.  Not sure if that's real brass, but will take some Brasso to it and see what happens. 

Arrival of the table was a little later than expected because Tenille and pere had spent the morning at Home Depot buying things they needed in order to get her A-frame in Rollinsville ready to put on the market.  She'd been renting it out, but had become disillusioned when her last tenant disappeared into the night, leaving the door open to the elements, a situation about which she only became aware several days later when an electrician whose services she uses noted it blowing in the wind and called her.

I had spent some time yesterday morning digging my path through the drifted snow wide enough so she and I could walk side-by-side, thinking we would carry one end of the table and her Dad the other, but they had the table out of the truck and halfway to the house before I even got outside to find out if they wanted me to move my car. 

I noticed her father opted to walk backward, which automatically merited my Nice Guy Award if he hadn't already allowed himself to be recruited to pick up the table, haul it up the canyon and about five miles out of his way, then unload it and bring it into the cabin of a total stranger.  (Yes, I had offered on Saturday to pay them something for their efforts, but Tenille wouldn't hear of it).

When I think back on it, every man with whom I've ever had a long-term relationship always made me walk backward when we were carrying something, unless I made an issue about it.  Perhaps this should be a test when determining if you want to be in a serious relationship with someone! 

If you're a woman, does your man make you walk backward?  If you're a man, does this ever even cross your mind?  Will it in the future? 

Tomorrow's blog will offer more about the Sears auto debacle and the e-mail I received this morning from Paul Bernardy at Sedgwick.