The merits of ‘sofa’ versus ‘couch’

For some reason, I hate the word sofa. Sofa. S.O.F.A. I can’t wrap my head around why, but it has always really bugged me.

But nowadays, I seem to be using it a lot — while I greatly prefer couch, and will use that term whenever possible over the evil sofa, in some instances couch just doesn’t seem right. To prove the point, which of the following sounds better?

This…

Oh, yes, I’m looking for a sofa table — can you please direct me to the appropriate section of the store?

Or this…

Can y’all show me tha tables? Tha ones for behind tha couch? Tha couch tables?

I’m making a sofa table for my living room. Actually, it’s done now. But in the process, it just didn’t seem right to tell people I was making a ‘couch table.’ Thus, my dislike of sofa has become even greater, yet its increase in use in my everyday language has exponentially increased.

So, that was a really long-winded way of telling you I’ve just completed my latest project: A couch sofa table.

For starters, I knew I wanted it to be a more industrial type of table (and, yes, Franklin is doing well, thanks for asking — more on him later). Naturally, I headed to what might be one of my most favorite places: Recycling The Past. Seriously, if you haven’t been, go there.

Anyway, I was looking for some old wood. I planned to make some planks out of wood with a bit of character in the grain. Instead, I found one of the most glorious doors I have ever seen.

I mean, sure, there was some peeling paint to contend with…

But overall, an old door with some distinct character. It has six planks, and is about 6 feet long (er, high, in its door form). Tongue-and-groove joints hold those together, aided by two, shorter planks spanning the taller planks on the back.

Even cooler? Its original hinge, just hangin’ out there on the side of the door.

Yeah. That’s totally still there. And one day, when my sweater catches on its edge when I’m running past the couch, I’ll curse ever writing how cool it was. Nah, you know what, it’s still pretty damn cool. More character, amiright?

Anyway. The door still had its keyhole, as well. Unfortunately, it has since been covered up, but just for posterity, a photograph:

Fortunately, many other things remain — like the rusty nails that are just chillin’ in the planks.

So. First step: Cut it in half.

While I originally planned to make planks out of whatever wood I found, I changed my mind very quickly when I looked at the door. It was already perfectly proportioned to fit behind the couch — why fix it if it ain’t broke?

Therefore, I sliced the planks on the back of the door — the ones holding all that jazz together — right in half with a hand saw. The two halves came right apart, and I began peeling off the probably toxic flaking paint. I made sure to leave some, because I’m digging the look of well-used wood nowadays.

I lightly sanded everything, and made sure to use a compressor to blow out all the sawdust and paint chips stuck in the joints. Next, I waited a few days. It appears the door was stored outside for an undetermined amount of time, and some moisture had invaded the joints. But a few days inside in a protected environment left the door halves — or, you know, table top and shelf — ready to go. Both were covered with two coats of matte poly to finish ’em off.

Then, the hardware:

Simple pipes and flanges made up the table legs. The legs closest to the ground are around 18 inches, while the supports between the top of the table and shelf are around 8 inches. I plan to use the space between the shelf and the floor for records.

By the way, did you know how many Home Depots are located in New Jersey? Y’know, don’t answer that. Let’s just go with ‘a lot,’ because I saw most of them in my quest to find the proper number of everything. Because, you know, naturally none of it is actually sold online.

All the hardware was cleaned, and sprayed with a light coat of satin poly, just to seal it all up. Then, thanks to some bolts and screws (and mending plates to give the door halves a hand in, ya know, staying in one piece), it was all done and ready to go.

Sidenote: Ignore the backdrops. Seriously. The painting cloths, though bright, are wayyyy less distracting than the actual, power-tool-filled background. Not even kidding.

In total, the table is a bit over a foot wide, and around 28 inches tall. It will fit perfectly behind my couch.

It even kept most of its best features, like the hinge, and a variety of features on the wood, like dings and paint chips.

All in all, a successful project.

By the (estimated) numbers:

• Cost of door: $50
• Cost of hardware: $90
• Total man hours: 5-10, including drying times on hot, humid days
• Level of awesome, between 1 and 10: 10, obviously