“This is the most comfortable chair,” he proclaimed the other day. I agree.
Most nomads have some type of fabric-and-aluminum folding chair. My molded-plastic-and-steel chair is the oddball around the campfire. It’s as out of place as wingtips.
But it’s comfortable. Its shape is anatomically correct. The perforated seat and back act like springs.
“The front edge of your chair doesn’t dig into the back of my thighs like mine does,” Lou explained. I briefly had a camp chair that did that, plus the top of the backrest dug into my spine. What’s more, my chair doesn’t make me feel like I’m sitting in a hole.
My chair is also rugged. No fabric to be destroyed by sun rot, no seams to come unstitched. If the pivot points ever wear out, I can replace them with bolts.
It’s heavier than nearly every other camp chair, but the weight and perforations mean it won’t blow away in desert winds. It did tip over once, but it didn’t end up a quarter mile away. Impaled on a cactus. With a bent strut.
So hurray for my chair! Long live my chair!