reevaluating resin lawn furniture

I'm pondering, nay, knee-deep in the realm of lawn tacky. We once had a nice, homemade picnic table and some reasonable lawn furniture, but with all the moving and years of living in apartments, they have long since gone to the garage sale in the sky. When I had a tiny patio in my grad student housing project ghetto castle, I bought a folding café table and a few plastic chairs. The table was strong for its size, and it FOLDED, which meant I could move it easily. We've taken it camping and used it inside and outside, just hosing it down when it gets dirty.

I've never really thought about the way lawn furniture looks and feels until now, and it's decidedly unhip, at least on the budget end of things. We had a fake-looking cast iron patio set at our last rental. It was ugly, heavy, and as comfortable as sitting on, well, bumpy cast iron. We added expensive cushions, but we couldn't leave them out in the rain, or else they would have been soaked all the time. Plus, the fake basket weaving on top made it precarious to balance drinks, and it got HOT so we'd have to be careful with our computers. Now, that's just stupid. A table shouldn't have these limitations. We also, therefore, eliminated powder-coated steel and aluminum.

When we eliminated metal, we thought about a tempered glass or -- gasp -- clear plastic topped table. It's easier to use your laptop on one of these smooth surfaces, but I've yet to meet one that says "modern design." Could these things be uglier? The fabric on the chairs that go along with these things looks like it stays wet when it rains, and worse, wears badly, and often looks like you spent too much on junk.

Wicker? Not if you want lasting lawn furniture. The new resin wicker is better for durability, but wicker? Have I ever wanted wicker anything (with the exception of my childhood wicker elephant table)? Good god, no. It's way too Victorian-looking for me, or something that just screams out a cliché like "gracious Southern hospitality.*

I'll take my mint julep straight up, thanks.

Wood seemed the sensible choice. Of course we wanted teak. Everyone wants teak. Teak is pricey. We also looked into durable eucalyptus. I like the smell -- it reminds me of California. It also costs much less than teak. Then I got lost in the bewildering forest of hardwood lawn furniture, a place where trees have strange names and the good ol' USA trees are not good enough.

Then I started thinking. Do I really like teak? I kinda hate the faded grey color they become. Plus, I'd still worry about keeping it out in the rain, and it rains here, like, 350 days of the year. It would be too heavy to lug out in the yard on the other 15 days. And it would be a pain to move. And what if we spilled something on it? Could I use it for potting plants and drying herbs and all the other abuses I put my café table through? Plus, who knows what grows on/in wood around here. Even our windowsills grow moss. Does teak get termites? Seriously, my ignorance has no bounds.

My eyes wandered like little clouds over to my tacky green resin furniture. It was clean, light, easy to fold and move, and it could be soaked to the bone and bounce back with a quick wipe. The green color hides stains. Worst case scenario, you can bleach it on the driveway. And it was a cheap as a 35-dollar whore.

Green resin furniture. Is that the kind of person I am? Yikes, I think it may be. Someone take away my hipster card. Oh wait, they never gave me a hipster card. Wait a minute...