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An Ode to the Return of the Terrace Chairs

Written while sitting in my throne—err, terrace chair.

Life presents us with some incredible chairs—yes I said chairs, the indisputable cradle of the bum, because even they need some lovin’. Some, I’ve found while exercising my right to sit, merit consideration for an award by the Indiana Fine Woodworking Association, as was the case with Ron Swanson’s praised four-legged woodwork. While others deserve a slow-clap for their ability to transcend us to a simpler time—like the dangerous temptation of a cubicle adorned with a swivel chair. A loyal chair is a source of great support and relief, and the “bottom” line is this; we don’t give chairs enough credit, especially the ones that give us a seat for toasting Spotted Cows with friends or watching the sun dip under Lake Mendota. You know which chair I’m raving about—the legendary terrace chair, the come-here-and-pop-a-squat-you-hard-working-college-kid chair. Considered the best seat on Madison’s favorite back porch, the chair most Badgers hold near and dear to their hearts made its official return last week. At last the beloved orange, green, and yellow sunburst terrace chairs stretched their metal legs, gave a big “Honey, I’m home!” and set up camp on the Memorial Union Terrace.
Now that these glorious beacons of hope have made their return, the promise of summer and another year of classes and late night studying is well in the bag. Homework can now be done the right way—in the comfort of your terrace chair with sailboats on the horizon and the smell of Wisconsin-brewed beer in the air. For the slaving college student, the sunburst chairs are an iconic symbol of triumph in surviving a semester of classes defined by frigid snow that convinced even the most optimistic students that winter would never leave. I’d say that alone deserves a round of applause (hit it, Gosling).So thank you, beautiful terrace chairs, the tropical sunfish of all chairs, for coming back to us, and don’t be in a rush to leave. And to all the Mr. Steal Yo Chairs out there—leave enough for the rest of us! Orange clashes with your futon anyway.

I'm an aspiring journalist and brunch enthusiast here at UW-Madison. My boyfriend's name is sleep and I get some every night. I once showed ankle for Wi-Fi access and hope to one day love something the way women in commercials love yogurt. I'm good at mermaid dancing and prefer my puns intended--that is all.
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