I spent about an hour this morning, removing all the old seat covers. Then I went about my business, handing out grades to on-line students, sending text messages, and surfing the internet for images of the red-bearded cop who is now infamous for pepper spraying students and who has been photo-shopped into a dozen famous paintings, pepper spraying beauty. Spray your heart out, man. Your family is forever shamed. Anyway, eventually I got back around to finishing these chairs. If you are wondering about the burn holes, here's the scoop: on the bottom of the back of each chair there are three bolt holes into which go three big bolts. To affix the seats to the backs, the bolts must pass through the fabric. Here's a finished chair.
But about that cop who pepper sprayed those college students: I have mixed feelings about him. That photograph will be a mar on his soul forever. About that I feel badly. I mean, I wouldn't want a permanent mar on my soul. And what about his children? Does he have children? I hope he doesn't. No one wants an infamous asshole for a dad. Naturally, I dislike the man; I dislike him without even knowing him. The tide of public unrest swept me up and there you have it: negative feelings toward a man I don't even know. What I do know is that that man did not spend his Sunday reupholstering a chair. Poor confused man. Poor hate-filled man. You can never sit in my chair. You are unwanted here.