Amy was assembling our new dressers. The dressers couldn’t have been more disassembled, “unless they made me cut my own wood,” she said. Yes, they could be, I countered. They could have made us grow our own trees.
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Dissatisfied with your local furniture superstore’s selection? Feeling emotionally disconnected from the furniture pieces in your home? Wanting to establish a relationship with the wood on which you park your butt for hours each day without so much as a howdy doody?
If you answered yes to any of these, then Grow Your Own Furniture (GYOF) has what you need.
There are three steps to a purchase from GYOF:
Select Your Wood
We have over 10,000 types of wood from which to choose. Pick Oak, Cherry, Walnut, Alder, Maple, Mahogany, Teak, Birch, Beech, Hickory, or Ash, and you’ll be part of the collective mindset of the majority of our customers. If you go a more exotic path and select from our smaller batch lots, such as Zebrawood, Ebony, Bolivian Rosewood, or Bloodwood, you’ll need to check out our deluxe package, which includes land ownership, citizenship, and a full-time arborist in the origin growth country of choice.
Decide on Generational Delivery
Typical growth times from seed to sawmill range from a low of 20 years for certain softer woods to a high of hundreds of years for harder, more exotic woods.
Probably we should have led with this in our sales pitch, but raw materials that become finished goods under the GYOF brand typically do not accrue to the generation that signs the contract. Typically, they are passed down as a legacy, with the contract signatories serving as caretakers and purveyors of emotionally intelligent highboy and other fine pieces.
Probably this should be its own section in our sales copy, but to ensure successful fulfillment of the terms of a GYOF contract, you must be strongly resourced, i.e., you must already possess enough financial capital to allow you not to work a day job.
Why can’t you work a day job? Because the central premise of emotionally connected, fully family integrated furniture requires the owner’s commitment to nurturing the wood from seed to sawmill. This means if you’re not eating, sleeping, or shitting, you’re spending time with your wood and attending to its every need.
Hey, it supports you every day and accepts your—or, rather, the next generation’s—after-Superbowl chili cheese farts without complaint, so the least you can do is dedicate your life to its growth.
If you’re religious, think of this like you’re God the Father, and your chosen wood is Jesus, your Son of God. Yes, you know you’ll eventually sacrifice your wood to the sawmill, but it’s for a higher cause, so it’s worth it. If you think that simile is sacrilegious, hey, give us a break, we’re trying to run a business based on the model that you have to give up your life to read calming poetry to wood. We don’t have time to become the next US Poet Laureate.
Choose Molded or Sawn
Molded furniture grows into a pre-measured steel form. In this way, the wood comprising your piece is contiguous, with not a cut, splice, joint, or other break to be found. (Of course, restricting the growth of your wood in such a drastic way can negatively affect its health, so you risk wasting years of your life cultivating a chair that only has one arm. Just thought you should know in case you didn’t realize it was stupid to turn over your life to growing wood for next-generation use. This comment is courtesy of Randy the Intern, who is quitting this shit-for-brains business and who hopes the insertion of this comment post editorial review will mean it makes it into the final copy that reaches you, gullible potential customer, so you will shop Amazon with the rest of us thought-we-could-be-patient-but-really-would-be-okay-with-drone-delivery customers.)
The sawn furniture option is, as its name implies, crude, ripping, impersonal, and ultimately detrimental to proper emotional furniture connection, but it may allow you the best chance to have your great grandchildren carry in the finished piece to your hospital room as you lay dying.
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If ass-in-seat now means inheritance ravaging later, count me in.
All hail mass-production assembly.
And release the chili cheese farts.