The Ikea Gong Show

For those of you who are unaware, Ikea is a store. A BIG store, check it out. It’s filled mainly with furniture, home décor, bedding, kitchen supplies and various other items that go along with. The premise of Ikea, and this is genius, is that most of their items do not come assembled and the packaging lacks any and all embellishments; therefore, they’re able to charge less for their items than say Leon’s, or Sears, or whatever… The Ikea style is very northern European, as in Sweden. Thus the store motto, “Ikea, Swedish for common sense” I like their stuff, the styles are simple, practical, and often colourful, where everywhere else the same items are fussy, and sporting horrible patterns and colours or lack there of. Beige, taupe, off white, and ecru are NOT colours. Only at Ikea can you get a florescent orange, or better yet, chartreuse dish brush with a suction cup on the end so you can stand it up in the sink to dry, or as I like to do, stick it to the side of the sink or the window so it’s floating horizontal. Although you do have to pick and choose, some things are just plain cheap. Shelves made with press wood and stuff.

Anyways, my point, I’m getting to it honest. I was at Ikea recently, and well, I couldn’t just not buy something. There isn’t one on the East Coast, so if one is to find one’s self in an Ikea, you gotta stock up. The only thing I bought was a small wooden box. It was cheap, useful, made of wood and ready for finishing any way I want. I also figured it would be an easy 20 minutes of assembly. SOOO……..NOT..…TRUE….. I have since discovered the complexities of assembling said small wooden box. The instructions…well, there are none, just some simple drawings labeled steps 1 through 6. Let me just start by saying that there are far more than 6 steps involved in putting this thing together. It required a Philips head screw driver, a hammer, and engineering degree, and if you were really keen, some carpenters glue.

I did discover while assembling, swearing, throwing a fit, and damning the box to the 6^th circle of hell, that I actually enjoyed putting it together. Anyone witnessing my wee spectacle might disagree, but there was a certain satisfaction to be had in hammering away at the impossibly tiny nails, attempting to screw the screws in straight with the wrong type of screwdriver, and watching the box take shape. It’s a satisfaction that I have been lacking at work and in my everyday life. There is nothing tangible in what I do behind my 3 cubical walls. Nothing with any substance comes out of it. The only thing close to being tangible is the memory stick the size of my pinky finger that has some files on it consisting of boring code and maybe a picture of two of the same boring army montages I see everywhere. Blech! Whoever invented the montage should be shot. They’re awful and everywhere at the same time. I have gone out of my way to create some super graphics that are both appropriate in nature as to what is requested and completely lacking in any layering, blurring, effects, and yet, the powers that be, always…ALWAYS just want a montage. But I digress…

I never did finish the box, I wanted to save it for a rainy day when I had nothing to do, such as today, so that I can savor once again, the enjoyment had by screaming, swearing and cursing a small wooden box, hoping to shame it into submission.