Old Teddy C.

If there was ever any doubt that stubbornness was a characteristic more suitably associated with the male gender, old Teddy Clemon emphatically put it to rest. His daughter and only child, Cynthia, used to joke that she didn’t put much faith in astrology but had to admit her dad fit the characteristics of a Taurean to a tee; loyal, stubborn and would bear grudges.

Ever since his wife passed away some years back, Ted insisted he could cut his hair just as well as she had for decades and his wispy grey hair was comically irregular in places. In 1989 he cancelled his subscription to the Chronicle after observing the paper boy helping himself to one of the Mrs.’ Rhodos early one morning. He read the Times for the next 8 years, but when it became the Times-Chronicle old Teddy promptly moved on the National Post.

He certainly was loyal as well; Saturday was the only time he’d ever wear anything other that his slacks and suspenders over a collared white shirt. Every week, he’d comb his poorly-cut hair, shave his whiskers and put on a tie before spending a couple of hours at his beloved wife’s resting place with a folding chair, a bottle of wine and a sandwich. Last Saturday Mr. Roche, the fire chief, insisted Teddy accept a ride home from the graveyard in a heavy downpour, and apparently it took some convincing.

Cynthia was coming by the house that day to try and convince dad to buy a new fridge. She was convinced he’d sunken more repair money into his teal green latch-handle dinosaur than it would’ve taken to purchase a new one outright, but Ted wouldn’t hear or it. “Nonsense, perfectly good fridge” he said blandly. She stayed the afternoon, enjoyed lunch with him and snuck away to fold some laundry for him while he stepped outside to smoke his pipe on the veranda.

Seeing dad rocking back and forth in his rocking chair, pipe in mouth, was a classic image for Cynthia. This time, however, when she came out the door something was amiss. Pops was still rocking alright, but the old and weathered chair wasn’t rocking back with its regular compliance. One of its runners had split away from the frame and was bottoming out on the deck, making a painful groaning noise.

She knew any such suggestion would fall on deaf ears, but she had an idea.

After returning home, she promptly visited www.rockingchairselect.com , a division of Cymax Stores and where she’d recently seen a selection of rustically-styled outdoor rocking chairs that resembled Dad’s in better days. The Nantucket Rocker she proceeded to order featured a weathered natural wood finish that would fit perfectly with Teddy’s similarly dilapidated porch. Some weeks later it was at her door, and her husband Jim placed it in the garage.

Next Saturday, shortly after Ted left for his weekly visit with Mom, Cynthia and Jim stopped by the house. Jim swiftly removed the decrepit old chair from the deck, dumped it in the back of the truck, and replaced it with the new rocker. They left as quickly as they came, but stopped by the next day. Sure enough, old Teddy was on the porch in his new rocker, enjoying his pipe and shifting back and forth smoothly.

“Darndest thing,” he began....