A year ago, after catching a rerun of Archie Bunker, I crafted a short essay about Billy’s chair and sent it out to half a dozen women’s magazines. I hoped a savvy editor would recognize the relevance of the topic for thousands, maybe millions, of married women.

Reflections on Man and His Beloved Recliner

If man’s best friend is a dog, then man’s best mistress is his recliner, commonly referred to as THE CHAIR. THE CHAIR provides a refuge of comfort and total acceptance. Wrapped in THE CHAIR’S loving embrace, a man can relax to the point of letting it all (see enclosed picture) hang out.
A most savvy mistress, THE CHAIR demands nothing but a warm body. She doesn’t expect flowers or expensive jewelry. Conversation is not required. Eye contact is never an issue. THE CHAIR tolerates mood swings, profanity, and flatulence. She doesn’t nag about date night or sex. She doesn’t care about dirty dishes or unfinished household projects.
Most importantly, THE CHAIR loves televised sports. She offers multiple positions suitable for watching sports, reading about sports, eating and drinking while watching sports, and dreaming about sports.
THE CHAIR is the perfect mistress. No woman could ever compare. No woman should ever try.

Sadly, the essay was rejected by all six publications. Only one editor provided feedback. In capital red letters she wrote, THIS TOPIC IS TOO DEPRESSING FOR WOMEN. Underneath, in faint, barely legible print, she added; just ignore the chair, that’s what I do.
In retrospect, I realized I should have sent the essay to a men’s periodical like Sports Illustrated. There, it might have won an award for insightful journalism.