With only a little bit of exaggeration I can claim to have felt "panic" about giving up some creature comfort, for the first time in 17 years of full-time RVing. No kidding. Because my new trailer is smaller and lighter than the first one, the office chair was getting in the way of everything. Perhaps it should be switched to a folding chair with arms.
But first let's look at the big picture. Wikipedia has an interesting article on the subject of chairs. It is quite surprising how new-fangled the Chair is, at least when it comes to widespread use (no pun intended for Americans.) And perhaps rightly so. They were always rather uncomfortable things.
It has only been the last 20 years that chairs have accepted the fact that the human back is curved. The office armchair is the most comfortable chair I know of. I don't understand how people can live with slouchy sofas, overstuffed easy chairs, or those dreadful little RV dinette things. Hence my panic.
You might be thinking that a dozen material sacrifices must be made by someone transitioning from a house to an RV. Ahh, but did you pick up on the key word in that sentence: transitioning? Only the first year was a transition. After that you accept a new "normal". You stop making things unnecessarily difficult by comparing everything in the RV to its counterpart in a standard house, and you stop flip-flopping between two dissimilar sets of habits.
And so what did RVing force me to give up? Only stuff that I had no real interest in. I don't care if the toilet paper dispenser in the basement half-bathroom is made of Italian granite. The only things that mattered to me were bicycles, dogs, and the office chair.
When I lived in a standard house with the standard lifestyle, I never had a dog. It wouldn't have been practical.
I owned more bicycles as an RVer than as a standard suburban homeowner. It astonishes me that people, who think they have comfortable (and expensive) rigs, have no space to store a bicycle inside.
It is unbelievable how uncomfortable the standard suburban McMansion can be. Can you find a decent reading chair and light in the whole place? Does the toilet actually flush without jiggling and jiggling the handle? I've almost slipped and fallen in the "comfortable" showers in those places. The countertops and desktops are too low to the ground. Lights in the bathroom illuminate from the wrong angle. Kitchen cabinets are dark inside -- you need a headlight to see what's in there.
In fact, when people talk about "comfort" they are not talking about the ergonomics of the human body. They are talking about social status, entertainment, and high expense.
But surely I miss all the spa-a-a-ace in a standard house, you say. Not really. Parkinson's law just means that you will fill all that space with useless crap -- so much crap that you will never be able to find any of it.
Besides, when newbie RVers complain about their lack of space, they never distinguish square feet (on the floors and countertops) from three-dimensional space, cubic feet. An RV is indeed hurting for square feet. But it is generous with cubic feet, which are usually squandered on windows.
And speaking of windows...
But first let's look at the big picture. Wikipedia has an interesting article on the subject of chairs. It is quite surprising how new-fangled the Chair is, at least when it comes to widespread use (no pun intended for Americans.) And perhaps rightly so. They were always rather uncomfortable things.
It has only been the last 20 years that chairs have accepted the fact that the human back is curved. The office armchair is the most comfortable chair I know of. I don't understand how people can live with slouchy sofas, overstuffed easy chairs, or those dreadful little RV dinette things. Hence my panic.
You might be thinking that a dozen material sacrifices must be made by someone transitioning from a house to an RV. Ahh, but did you pick up on the key word in that sentence: transitioning? Only the first year was a transition. After that you accept a new "normal". You stop making things unnecessarily difficult by comparing everything in the RV to its counterpart in a standard house, and you stop flip-flopping between two dissimilar sets of habits.
And so what did RVing force me to give up? Only stuff that I had no real interest in. I don't care if the toilet paper dispenser in the basement half-bathroom is made of Italian granite. The only things that mattered to me were bicycles, dogs, and the office chair.
When I lived in a standard house with the standard lifestyle, I never had a dog. It wouldn't have been practical.
I owned more bicycles as an RVer than as a standard suburban homeowner. It astonishes me that people, who think they have comfortable (and expensive) rigs, have no space to store a bicycle inside.
It is unbelievable how uncomfortable the standard suburban McMansion can be. Can you find a decent reading chair and light in the whole place? Does the toilet actually flush without jiggling and jiggling the handle? I've almost slipped and fallen in the "comfortable" showers in those places. The countertops and desktops are too low to the ground. Lights in the bathroom illuminate from the wrong angle. Kitchen cabinets are dark inside -- you need a headlight to see what's in there.
In fact, when people talk about "comfort" they are not talking about the ergonomics of the human body. They are talking about social status, entertainment, and high expense.
But surely I miss all the spa-a-a-ace in a standard house, you say. Not really. Parkinson's law just means that you will fill all that space with useless crap -- so much crap that you will never be able to find any of it.
Besides, when newbie RVers complain about their lack of space, they never distinguish square feet (on the floors and countertops) from three-dimensional space, cubic feet. An RV is indeed hurting for square feet. But it is generous with cubic feet, which are usually squandered on windows.
And speaking of windows...
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| I just installed my first window in the cargo trailer. It was easier than I thought. It helped that the laminate door had no aluminum rafters of course!. The bottom half of the window slides up for a screen. |
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| Sexy little beast, ain't it? |
Comments
And I don't know about "sexy," but "cute" comes to mind :)
Box Canyon Mark
A chair like this is more comfortable than a typical office chair, the seat folds up, but it still will take up more space than a small folding chair.
When it comes time to replace the tires I probably will go up one size in tire profile. That's an advantage of outboard wheels.
As far as "old and decrepit" goes, the next time you are in Yuma, try riding with the elderly cyclists there. It will be an education.
The chair does look comfortable and compact, albeit over-priced.
"Why can't we all just get along…" :))
Box Canyon Mark
But your suggestion got me thinking about modifying the chair. For instance I could shorten a couple of the 5 stellated legs in the base; those are what actually get in the way. I would lose the casters by shortening the legs, but casters are a mixed blessing. I could bolt wooden blocks to the end of the leg to replace the caster.