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Column: An open letter to the couch donator


Dear couch donator:
I wanted to thank you for your recent addition to our desert landscape. For months, I have been visiting the creek that lies on the outer rim of the Camp Beale Loop, taking in the serene surroundings of scrub grassland, wondering what could make the experience better.

But you were the visionary. You knew what it needed. A couch. And not just any couch. Your couch.

It must have been hard for you to part with that couch. Not only is the fabric well-worn, and thus full of sentimental value, but it's also a sleeper bed. And everyone knows those are worth way more than regular couches.

When I first saw your couch while hiking recently, I was so impressed by its majesty that I had to stop and catch my breath. The juxtaposition of the couch cushions against the granite rock was so beautiful, it was enough to make the most stoic Native American shed a tear.

How hard it must have been to part with that couch. And how nice of your friends to give you a hand dumping, er, I mean, placing it out in the desert for all of us to enjoy.

But it doesn't stop there. Not only are you selfless, you're also thoughtful. The couch obviously looks best on the west side of the creek, but that means risking wet feet to get to the intoxicating comfort of that sweet pull-out. But you, in all your visionary glory, saw those five pallets just sitting on the side of your garage and you thought, Bingo! Problem solved. Your solution of lying wooden pallets across the creek is both safe and elegant. It's like you paved the road to Oz with yellow brick pallets.

If it sounds like I'm impressed, it's because I am! The couch is, after all, the ultimate recreational vehicle, but no one's ever thought to combine Mother Nature and Lazy Boy until you. Not even Joni Mitchell had the foresight to put in a couch when she paved over paradise. That's the type of thinking that gets people elected to Congress, you know.

And to think, I almost had the chance to thank you personally! I was coming down one of the foothills Saturday afternoon when I saw a truck, possibly your truck, parked near the creek. It never occurred to me to write your license plate number down, but then again, I didn't know the surprise you were busy planning for us all.

I'd still like to offer my appreciation. The couch was cream and white, with small flecks of color and a non-descript sort of cloud pattern. There was also a tan blanket with a pussy willow pattern on top of the couch. The couch probably caused quite a stir among your friends when you brought it home from the Goodwill eight years ago.

For whatever reason people love couches, and there's a million of them, your couch is likely to stand above the rest and trigger the memory of someone who's been in its presence. I'm hoping that person will contact me at the paper so I can thank you properly.

And it's not just me who would like to offer my appreciation. I bet Sheriff Tom Sheahan, Police Chief Robert DeVries and the more than 100 volunteers with the Mohave County ERACE program would all like to join me in expressing their gratitude.

I'll have to remember to take a pen and paper with me on my next hike in case I see your truck again. Or maybe I'll just run into you the next time we're both hanging out down by the couch. I'll be out there this weekend, picking up a bunch of trash some jackasses left everywhere.


Sincerely,

An outdoor and couch enthusiast




 

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