We Built This Table with Rock and Roll
In my previous post Adrian wondered about my obsession with tables. Well, I can come out of the closet about this obsession. I am a total table junkie. I will try to make a table out of anything. The chief reason I finally convinced myself to fix up the Room of Broken Dreams was the possibility of acquiring MORE tables.
And, as my partner noted, this table fixation has genetic component. My mother is also a bit of a table addict. While I see the genetic threads, my pathology expresses itself differently. I like a table itself; not necessarily the work surface it provides. My parents are quite different. Their home office must have – what – like five thousand tables at various price points (and with varying degrees of shakey-town-ness) from card tables to a gorgeous Arts and Crafts era desk thingie and the show stopping Gordon Gekko looking glass monstrosity piled high with so much stuff you can’t actually do any work there. In fact, La Mommie moved her party downstairs to the dining table and I think my Dad sits at one of the many card tables tucked in the corner.
I am not that kind of table addict. In fact, I don’t really like seeing anything on a table unless I’m actually using it at the time. I don’t want no books, no hot mess of tapestries, table cloths or other kind of barrier getting between me and the table top. If I’m in a store and walk past a collection of tables – doesn’t matter if they are high end or low budget – I debate whether or not it should come home with me. In most cases they don’t – tables don’t walk themselves home, despite usually possessing four legs.
And I go through phases. Last summer it was all about Parsons Tables and fell hard for a gorgeous looking purple one that ended up being all kinds of shakeytown and broke my heart. Lately it seems I am hot for Ikea’s table top/leg combinations. Surfing the table section of the site is like pr0n. My palms get sweaty, heart rate elevates and I glance around furtively, despite usually being alone while cruising tables.
This makes the whole home office thing a bit tricky. There’s no way I can just commit myself to one dedicated workspace. I’m all over the house making all the tables feel special, only to get hot for another one somewhere else and disappear without so much as a goodbye. Fortunately, it seems I can fit about three or four different tables in the home office.
Currently, it’s all about me and Mandy Patinkin. Like any proud parent, I can’t stop taking pictures of MP, uploading them and sitting back eating Sour Patch Kids watching the slideshow of MP from various angles on loop.