This piece by Shane Goodman, Editor and Publisher of the [Guthrie] Times Vedette digital newsletter, stuck with me after I’d read it. The compelling similarity to the human body, experiences, and memories as we age. Shane gave me permission to share it:

From the Publisher: Not ready for the woodpile yet 

I inherited some old Adirondack chairs a few years ago. At the time, I reasoned that with a light sanding and a new coat of paint, these could be nice chairs. When my light sanding peeled off sheets of paint, I knew I was in for more work than I had planned. I persisted, though, using a power washer to take off the large stuff and an orbital sander to smooth it out. After two coats of oil-based primer, two coats of top paint, and many hours, my wife asked why I didn’t just buy new chairs. Fair question.

The answer was that this became a challenge I had to conquer. The amount of time or money I was putting into the chairs quickly became irrelevant. I simply had to win. Something was pushing me to save these chairs.

While power-washing, sanding, priming and painting, I couldn’t help but think about what these old chairs had been through, and I smiled as I thought how similar they are to the human body.

Each layer of paint represents memories for someone. These are the experiences the prior owners had, much like the clothes we choose to wear on our bodies. Sometimes old and worn. Sometimes faded. Sometimes needing repaired. Sometimes needing replaced. But we also sometimes hang on to them, often by needle and thread or with a new accessory to make the old appear new again. Even so, each layer — each color — represents a specific stage of life.

Underneath those layers of paint, I found a few damaged boards that needed repair — broken bones, you might call them. Despite the fix, they are not quite the same. The repaired pieces don’t blend in with the others, but they do keep the old chairs usable, at least for a while.

Securing these boards were a bunch of rusty screws — the joints of the chairs. At first, they were shiny, new and sharp, made to hold the bones together. Over time, they weakened, became discolored and even broke off. So, in a surgical DIY effort, I took a few of the worst ones out, and I screwed in shiny, new, sharp ones again.

While putting in the new screws, I realized that some of the core wood was soft and rotten, no longer able to do what it was intended to do. The shiny, new, sharp screws couldn’t hold that mush together anymore. Repair was no longer an option. These vital boards — the organs of my chairs — needed replaced immediately.

I did the work to these chairs a few years ago, and I am proud to say they are still standing today. Sure, the paint is peeling in spots again, and a few more repairs are needed, but they are usable. My wife says they need to be discarded, maybe even set aflame. I am not ready to throw them in the woodpile just yet. Like most of us, with a little TLC, they have a few more good years left in them.

Have a terrific Tuesday [July 8, 2025], and thanks for reading.

Shane Goodman
Editor and Publisher
Times Vedette digital newsletter
shane@gctimesnews.com
641-332-2707

Shane Goodman is also the publisher of Cityview, “Central Iowa’s premiere monthly magazine,” according to John Busbee of the Culture Buzz. President and Publisher of Big Green Umbrella Media.