The Salem Leader
Educationally Speaking
July 7, 2008
Justin Harter

 

The Lamp Shade Capitol of the World

 

Last weekend my good friend Brandon and I decided to spend our Saturday traveling to Cincinnati. We thought it’d be a hoot to go to the IKEA Swedish furniture store. If you haven’t heard of IKEA, allow me to write a few words that describe IKEA: cheap, modern, and massive. I chose to go to IKEA because you can buy a chair for less than $40 and the stuff is pieced together well enough that even I could assemble furniture.

 

We departed Indy that morning around 9:30. We drove for a while down Interstate 74 and as the radio station started to fade, so did the sun. Rain clouds moved in and they quickly informed me of who would be pushing my car. I thought I knew what rain was all about having recently driven on disaster-stricken I-65, but evidently I did not. Apparently, southern Indiana rain is more serious than central Indiana rain. It rained hard enough that as we passed over a bridge, the water was actually damaging boats. I was impressed.

 

After we made it through rain of Moses proportions, we entered a state called “Ohio”. Ohioans, as I understand it, are supposedly the most stereotypical Americans in the nation. Or at least that’s how their voting records supposedly go. My experience driving into Ohio is that Ohioans clearly don’t know how to build roads. I believe Ohioans may actually support their highway bridges with wood. Next time you travel to Ohio, remember to mentally prepare yourself for the onslaught of potholes, lane changes and collapsing directional signs. You may also need to update your will.

 

Once I made it to the Cincinnati bypass, we drove around to the north side of the city into what I assume is a suburb. Unlike Indy, suburbs in Ohio evidently only consist of about three or four middle-class houses, a monstrous IKEA store and an Applebee’s.

 

We went into the IKEA and were greeted by very friendly staff members and browsed around the story. I purchased two nice, cushiony chairs, a bookcase, a table, an area rug, and a lamp for less than $400. It was a good deal. The bad part was trying to get it all back.

 

Since everything at IKEA is flat-boxed and comes disassembled, I was determined to fit it all into my Beetle. No way was I paying a $200 delivery fee. As Brandon and I shuffled boxes into the back of my Bug, passers-by were gathering to watch the scene. Evidently, Ohioans find it humorous to watch a couple of Indiana hicks trying to pummel rectangular boxes into a round hole. One gentleman walked by and commented that I’d, “have a better chance getting an elephant into that thing”. I laughed it off and informed everyone that I could handle the situation and I did. I couldn’t really move my right arm once I got back into the car, couldn’t see to my right or out my rear-view mirror, but those are all just minor technicalities.

 

After stopping for a quick bite at Applebee’s, Brandon and I headed home with our items piled high in the car. No spare space went unused. We got home a couple hours later, unloaded the car and Brandon kindly helped me assemble the new furniture. As it turns out, I am still capable of not assembling things correctly because of my stubborn reluctance to admit when I need a tool like a hammer. I snapped one of the wood pegs on the bookshelf, which required a little fancy hammer-and-nail action to patch it back together. My Dad can rest easy knowing his mechanically-inept son is at least capable of hammering a nail into some press board to secure a shelf.

 

After the bookcase was setup, the chairs were assembled and the rug set out, I began unpacking the lamp. To my surprise, lamps that come in clear plastic bags do not come with something called a lampshade. Thus, I’m currently sitting in a room illuminated by a bulb on a pole. Also to my surprise, I have been unable to find a suitable lampshade in the Indianapolis metropolitan area. This may warrant another trip to Cincinnati since they are evidently the lampshade capitol of the world. However, before I go I’ll be sure to update my will and leave plenty of food for my cats to nibble on in case I fall into an Ohio-sized ravine or pothole.