Different Drum Humor: Hey, I thought I had dibs on the davenport
Davenport. Now there’s a word you rarely see or hear anymore, except perhaps at the Smithsonian Institution, where one might be on display next to Archie Bunker’s chair or Roseanne Barr’s couch (which is actually in a warehouse in Los Angeles). Here we go down a rabbit trail, so I hope you’re either sitting or lying down, depending.
What’s the difference between a couch and a davenport? Well, as opposed to a love seat, they are both upholstered pieces of furniture large enough on which the average adult can lie down. But technically, Davenport is a specific brand name of a couch (so the word should be capitalized) made by the Davenport Furniture Company in Massachusetts. Sounds like it became the furniture equivalent of Kleenex – a household word.
My mom always referred to as a “davenport” (with a lowercase “d” due to her ignorance regarding its lineage) the large piece of upholstered living room furniture the rest of our family always called a “couch.” I always thought she was just putting on airs, which in a way she was, if she truly travelled all the way to Massachusetts just to obtain something to sit on, which sounds like we decorated in old money style.
While we’re talking large pieces of furniture, are couches and sofas the same thing? Of course not, except in ordinary conversation, where the participants don’t give two hoots about technicalities and you know what they’re talking about, anyway.
According to sanfrandesign.com, the word “couch” comes from the French word “coucher,” which means “to lie down.” Per the website, “A couch is something you lounge on, let your kids play on, and let your dog use from time to time. It is a big, fluffy furniture item that you find in man caves and laid-back television rooms.”
A couch is viewed as a more casual piece of furniture in contrast to the more formal, higher backed, and often longer sofas, which are meant for sitting on in polite company. Note to self: that means the high-backed, light-colored, toile-upholstered furniture piece in my parlor that my son ruined last summer by coming home from work and flopping down dirty on was a sofa, for what it’s worth (which isn’t much now). Clearly, he should have chosen the indestructible, dark blue-patterned couch in the family room: the one the cats like.
I’m sure glad we got that all sorted out, but it’s too bad it won’t make quality furniture more accessible or affordable. The real reason I am referencing couches, sofas and davenports is that the first two have become hot ticket items at our house in recent months, since both of my children now have significant others.
No one seems to desire to do their courting sitting three feet apart on either side of the parlor fireplace in matching burgundy Queen Anne-style recliners upholstered. Nope, they all want to share the same large piece of furniture that allows them to accidentally-on-purpose sit too close to one another. I know this from entering (without warning) the rooms they tend to favor and watching them jump up and apart simultaneously, like they’ve just received an electrical shock.
One night, back when it was still getting colder at night, my daughter and her boyfriend came home from an event they attended with me and planned to take possession of the most prime real estate: the family room blue-patterned family couch, upon which I cannot lie down upon without instantly becoming comatose. It’s situated in a room with a winter use fireplace and summer use air-conditioner and a television and DVD player year ‘round.
Unfortunately, my son and his girlfriend had returned earlier from a dinner date and had already set up camp there. That left my daughter and her beau only six other choices: the ultra-cozy Little TV Room with an even softer couch, TV and stained glass mood lighting; the parlor’s delightful fainting couch for two, the son-ruined-sofa and/or the firmer green couch; or the computer room, with a fireplace, squared-off cushioned chairs and an ottoman in-between for footsy matches. There was also the porch swing – with a blanket.
Decisions, decisions. Glad I’m not vying for dibs on the Davenport.
Kristy Smith’s Different Drum humor columns are archived at her blog: diffdrum.wordpress.com
This article originally appeared on The Daily Reporter: Opinion
