Last night I had a lot of time to contemplate life.
I turned off The Bachelor when "Jake the Pilot" turned out to be a big cry baby with impaired judgment as to what a sane bride should be.
Plus that sappy "On the Wings of Love" theme was giving new meaning to the word cheese. And that was making me hungry.
So I turned off the show and decided to ponder something equally important: the meaning of life.
And what did this deep introspection reveal? Two very important life paths that I still might take before I join that Great Antique Gallery in the Sky:
1) DEVOTE MYSELF TO THE CHURCH AND ITS VESTMENTS. One big plus: if you get high enough up the ecclesiastical ladder, you get to wear the coolest outfits, many of which are made of "cloth of gold!" How sa-weet is that!?
Plus I love the name for that fabric: cloth of gold is called "drap d'or" which you'd think would rhyme with trap door, right? But it's actually pronounced "drah DOOR". But as a Bishop or better yet a Cardinal, I'd insist on calling my gold frocks "DRAP DOORS".
So when members of my flock would compliment me on my "smock of gleaming gold", I could say, "Why this old thing?! It's just one of my many drap doors." And then they'd walk away perplexed and wondering what profound piece of wisdom I had just shared with them.
If any members of my family are reading this, I know what you're thinking: "Buzz, you nitwit, you can't be a Cardinal... you're Jewish for chrissake! Better you should become a Rabbi who works on the side as an antique dealer." My answer is simple: Rabbi's don't wear "cloth of gold" and polyester blends give me a rash.
2) I COULD ALSO DEDICATE MY LIFE TO WEIRD SOFAS. At this point, I figure I already spend 60% of my life prone on the couch watching TV (BTW, we never use the word "couch" in polite company unless you grew up in Van Nuys, which I did. For the rest of you, say "sofa" and you won't sound like a hayseed). Here's an example of a very weird sofa:
Anyhow, in my golden years, I've become something of a pomme de canape (couch potato). And you know what? I really like it! Plus, my guidance counselor in Junior High told me: "Do what you love and the money will follow." Of course he died dirt poor. But anyhow...
The reason "the sofa life" would be fun is that I could watch every "Real Housewives" episode to see what incredibly bad taste most of them have in antiques and home decorating. I mean really....some of those homes are crimes against nature, not to mention supremely tacky. But these design disasters are just like car crashes-they're so horrible you just can't look away. Don't believe me? Howz about this Jersey housewife sofa?
Plus, I love telling people that the world of weird sofas is a science that only the privileged, the smart, and the very idle can actually master. And since I'm in the third category, I could go on and on about obscure sofas like these:
A confident, pronounced "CON fee dah(n)", also called a tête-à-tête, pronounced "TET ah TET", and ALSO called a vis-à-vis, pronounced "VEEZ-ah-VEE", like this one by Salvador Dali:
Note how the confident is essentially in the shape of an S and how it accomodates only two people.
Then there's the indiscret, pronounced "IN de cray") a sofa-like piece designed very similar to a confident but made for three people:
An indiscret can also be round like this Napoleon III one:
Another weird sofa is the caseuse, pronounced "coh ZURZ", which is just a fancy name for a love seat. Here's a grand Louis XVI example:
And finally there's a boudeuse (pronounced "boo DURZ"), defined loosely as an upholstered salon seat that shares one back between them, like this one: