And To All a Good Weekend!

‘Twas the day before Saturday, and all through Cymax,

Everything was silent, even the printer and fax.

The jackets were hung over office chairs with care,

In hopes that the weekend soon would be there.

The writers were typing with such intense speed,

While visions of pint glasses filled them with glee.

And data entry on their computers and customer service on the phones,

Just kept on working like lemmings and drones.

When out in the hallway their arose such a bang,

All the employees stopped and said “dang!”

Away from my desk I flew like a kite,

Threw back the door, and ran out of sight.

My coworkers stared with fear in their eyes,

Awaiting this booming spectacular surprise.

When, what to my questioning eyes did I see?

But TV mounts from MountZilla waiting for me!

With a delivery driver, so friendly and nice,

Dropping off our items, charging no price!

He got out his clipboard and called out some brands,

Ensuring good quality was placed in my hands.

“Here’s OmniMount, Avteq, BDL and Bello,

I’ll be back with more soon,” said the friendly fellow.

From the top of the roof way down to the rug,

TV mounts were stacked neatly and snug.

This view left all Cymax with awe on their faces,

And began to put them in the right places.

“Wait, stop!” shouted management “Wait for a sec”.

We quit moving boxes so as not to catch heck.

“One of these boxes is a special gift,”

And with a resounding grunt, gave one box a lift.

“Because you all work so hard every week,

We bought this for Cymax,” he continued to speak.

We followed him closely to the room meant for breaks,

This box was so heavy, it caused him to ache.

He dropped down the box, and presented a mount,

But without a huge TV, it didn’t really count.

With a wink of his eye and a gun with his thumb,

He rolled his eyes like we were all dumb

“Look over there!” he shouted so loud,

A gasp was heard rumbling throughout the crowd.

Many thanks were given for our wondrous new toy,

A 65 inch Plasma for us to enjoy!

“Now, turn off your screens and logout of your sites,

It’s party time, people: It’s Friday night!”

We rummaged the fridge and produced some cold bevies,

The foosballs were flying; the music was heavy.

Our brand new TV was showing some highlights,

Beer and sports in HD – what a night!

Dancing on desks and spilling on shoes,

No room in this house for Friday night blues.

As hours ticked by, we composed ourselves,

“Goodnight Cymax, we love you”, we whispered like elves.

We turned off the TV, mounted high on a wall,

Headed for buses or trains, careful not to fall.

At the door he yelled, with all his managerial might,

“Happy weekend to all and to all a good night!”

It Will be Mine…Oh Yes…It Will be Mine

As a product of the mid 80s, I know that I have been exposed to a wealth of sometimes important, oftentimes useless information that I carry with me to this very day. For example, as a result of my date of birth, I know to take careful precaution to Avoid the Noid at any and all costs, as he is a thieving snake who must be stopped. I know that if I ever run into Dave Coulier of Full House fame I will be sure to ask him to oblige me with a Mr. Woodchuck impression. I know that Earthworm Jim for Super Nintendo is the world’s most difficult and unfair video game followed closely by Ninja Gaiden for original Nintendo. Finally I have learned to fear and respect the ever-creepy Treasure Troll, as I am certain that some otherworldly form will one day breath life into them and they will take over the world…but that’s a different story altogether.

In addition to all of these tidbits of knowledge that I store for a rainy day, or a heated game of 90s Trivial Pursuit, I recall that my older sister and all of my friends’ cooler, older siblings all seemed to own futons. Deep within the depths of their dimly lit rooms, right underneath their life sized posters of Eddie Vedder, sat a generously sized futon…sometimes, conveniently taking the form of a couch, peppered with plaid shirts perhaps or ripped jeans; or other times a full-sized bed, ten hole Doc Martens perched neatly at the foot. Either way, the futon seemed to be the staple piece of furniture for the young and modern in the 90s.

I used to dream of the day when I too, could discard my childish sleigh bed, and get myself a great big futon; my rite of passage, my acceptance into the world of the super cool, long haired, Kurt Cobain wannabes whom I had long admired. Sadly…I never got to satisfy my futon dream. I slept soundly, though very un-chicly, in my pine sleigh bed right up until I moved out and now I can’t wait to one day settle into my first perfectly firm, undeniably comfortable futon mattress. I oftentimes find myself browsing MoreFutons.com, ogling their massive selection of sizes, styles and brands. From their massive variety of futon frames to their grand assortment of futon covers, anxiously awaiting the day when I am financially secure enough to purchase a brand new futon of my very own. Until then, I suppose I will have to deal with my boyfriend’s boring spring mattress, which incidentally, does not fold into a couch…and it only makes people worry when you try.

Roadhouse - A Tale of Counter Stools?

I first realized that I needed counter stools in my home the first time I saw Road House. When my hungry eyes first devoured Patrick Swayze’s rippling muscles as he tore that guy’s throat out at the end of the movie, I said to myself, "Hmm...these things need to happen in my home."

So I began one of the most difficult and time-consuming journeys of my entire life. Not to mention incredibly shameful and horrendously embarrassing, as I recognize my obsession with Road House and accompanying desire to bring the tale to fruition as a sickness and serious personality disorder. But I didn’t care. Once I had resolved to bring the Double Deuce to my home, it was all over. It had to be done.

I began with what I thought were the easy steps. The steps best suited to get my psychotic ball rolling, so to speak, and help ease the process of completely immersing myself into delusional fantasies. The way an overweight, under-dressed cougar eases her way into a hot tub of young men; so too would I find my Road House.

As my funding was limited to what I could scrounge from my mother’s couch and one hundred and fifty dollars from my grandmothers’ combined birthday gifts of seventy-five dollars each, I decided that I would fashion a sign out of wood and a brightly colored paint called, ‘Electric Blue’.

I thought it might create the illusion of a sign glowing in fluorescent lights. It did not. And when my mother came home and saw the sign over top of our door she forced me to remove it. Later I learned that my grandparents removed me from the will for my hubris.

I decided to move on to the second step, which was finding a miraculously talented guitar player with his quirky wits about him who also happened to be blind. Unfortunately, the person who most resembled sweet Cody from the Double Deuce was the blind hobo who lived behind the abandoned cigar store at the edge of town and played the harmonica very badly.

Undaunted, I walked to the old cigar store which still smelled like stogies with a looming trace of urine and approached the hobo’s growing nest of newspapers, blankets and what appeared to be dead, partially-eaten birds. I asked him politely if he wouldn’t mind coming over to my house to forever re-create scenes from the movie Road House, in which he would play the young, talented, easy to love guitar player with a sunny disposition despite his handicap.

The hobo, instead of answering my question, harassed me for change and insisted that I find him smoke-able cigarette butts, as without the use of his eyes, it was quite difficult. He eventually said he would answer my question if I provided for him, the small fee of smokes and change. So I gathered a pile of cigarette butts that I found around the parking lot and gave him three dollars and sixteen cents in change.

Unfortunately, while hobo was very adept at recreating the dirtiest of dances from Dirty Dancing, his Road House re-enactments left something to be desired. When I told him this, he chased me away from the cigar store with what appeared to be a melted pop bottle.

I was incredibly discouraged at this point, especially considering I had been trying to contact Patrick Swayze for three weeks with absolutely no response whatsoever. I was even beginning to doubt his totally awesome kick-ass-edness. I reconsidered the wisdom of the time I'd dug through the garbage outside his home, looking for locks of hair.

It was at this point that I realized this blog entry was actually supposed to be about furniture, which brings me now to the final stage of my adventure. As I was browsing the internet, creeping through various Road House and Patrick Swayze chat groups, I discovered a website called CounterStoolSelect.com. It is at this website that I discovered the veritable treasure trove of bar stools and counter stools, some of them JUST like the ones in Road House!

From swivel counter stools to low back bar stools and everything in between, I was able to find what must have been an exact replica of the counter stools from the Double Deuce. Rustic, masculine wood barstools... it is as though they were blessed by the buttocks of Patrick Swayze himself.

Luckily, the incredibly reasonable prices and nonexistent shipping costs allowed me to purchase a barstool of my very own within my limited budget which had been depleted further by the three dollars and sixteen cents I gave to that jerk behind the cigar store.

Now, all I have to do to satisfy my sick Road House needs is to sit in my brand new counter stool and imagine myself at the Double Deuce... hand in hand with the Swayze, kicking butts and taking names... forever.

Snow Day!

Brrr. It’s cold these days. The kind of frosted, bone-rattling chill that Vikings and black-metal bands are always talking about. But people who are baffled by snow and slush and wind in the throes of winter irritate me. What do you expect, when our world is a mere blip amidst an endless cosmic vacuum of freezing cold? Sunny skies and tropical heat? Mere illusion! Cold is the nature of the universe, and the Second Law of Thermodynamics says that things are only getting colder. Get used to it, princess.

Therefore, here’s what I think we should all do: let’s have a childhood fantasy Snow Day and embrace this bitter cold. What else is there to do? Stand around and ask each other if it’s cold enough yet? Oh, it will be cold enough. Yes indeed.

To start the day, eat one of those fruit-flavored oatmeal packets that you just add water to. Mmm. Peaches and creamy. Add extra brown sugar on top, just to be sure it’s sweet enough to make your teeth shrivel. Pick up your books and throw them on the floor. Who needs those today? Not you, my friend. It’s Snow Day!

If you are a pansy, you should bundle up as warm as possible. It's never cool to wear a hat and scarf and mittens, but today you are throwing fashion to the wind. After all, there is a lot of work to be done. Snowmen (or is it snowpersons?), snow angels, snow forts and, best of all, snow fights. In our Snowmaginarium, the snow has a perfect wet to dry ratio, allowing for perfect snow stickiness. No harsh, gravel-filled iceballs today! That is, unless your annoying neighbour walks by -- then you become the Wendigo, delivering a pelting snow-storm to drive the jerk to his frosty doom.

Your day passes in a blaze of soft downy flakes. Finally, red-faced and panting, you run indoors. Your cardiovascular system is begging you for mercy after a full day of exercise and fresh air. After devouring hot soup and a grilled cheese sandwich, it’s time to relax with family by the fire.

Everyone’s in a good mood, because despite the overwhelming snow and sub-zero temperatures outside, something about a hot toddy in front of the fireplace puts everyone at ease.

Make sure you end your best ever Snow Day with a fireplace from Cymax. With just the flick of a switch, you can turn off the flames, go upstairs to bed and dream of a lifetime filled with Snow Days. And hot toddys.

The Massage is the Medium

When you stagger home from your eight hours of daily toil, sometimes you just need to relax, watch some Matlock, and enjoy a soothing massage from your loved one. Is there any better way to relieve the stress of punching in numbers, attending boring meetings, and chatting about god knows what with the office idiot? Maybe there is, but it probably isn't legal.

So you get home, throw your briefcase and pants on the floor, flick on the television and crack open that cold forty of Steel Reserve. Step one complete. Then step two comes along: asking for that massage.

But what's this? Your significant other isn't in the mood?

Well, what else is new? You've been barking up that tree for months and even now, the most massage action you can get is from that fancy shower head you bought. So you've given up hope, and in your darkest hour, you do what all hopeless people do: Go online.

Somehow, you come across Cymax Stores, and all of a sudden, your hopes and dreams revive like zombies, hungry for the delicious fleshy meats of savings. You see that Cymax has a site, Massage Chair Select which carries plenty of massage chairs to choose from, such as Human Touch iJoy Massage Chairs, Panasonic Massage Chairs, and more. On top of that, they offer free shipping too.

What more could you want? A live-in masseuse? Sure thing, Dr. Moneybags. For the rest of us, a comfy massage chair is the perfect replacement for human contact. Let a Cymax chair massage your body... and Matlock will massage your soul.

At Least Furniture Won't Pee on Your Rug

We humanoids have an important relationship with the animal kingdom. Pets have been a vital part of all cultures since prehistoric times, when Larry King kept trilobites for companionship as he shambled the lonely Paleozoic wilds. These days, many people feel their home is not complete without a pet -- trilobite or not.

But what if you can't have a pet? Maybe your significant other is allergic to cats. Maybe your landlord has a no-animals policy. Maybe you have an unreasonable phobia of dogs thanks to an Incident long ago. In any case, you long to hear the pitter-pat of little claws on the floor, but it's not an option. Well, Cymax is here to help you do the right thing: compensate by buying furniture.

Alternately, if you do have a pet, perhaps you’d like to find a piece of furniture to match. Why would you want to do this? For the same reason you dress your dog in little sweaters and take him to the spa to get his fur did, clearly. Either way, with a special focus on man’s best friend (the dog, not the awful Lance Henriksen film), our devoted team brings you the most pet-like furniture items you can buy.

Note the similarities:

And there you have it: a pet to match your furniture, or furniture to match your pet. Half of style is coordination, after all.

Happy New Year from Cymax!

Everyone at Cymax Stores would like to wish everyone a very Happy New Year! May 2008 bring you much joy and happiness!