A recent AP news article reported that TV and furniture-related injuries are on the rise. According to the article, about 14,700 furniture-related injuries occurred each year between 1990 and 2007—almost half due to TV sets, the most common article involved in the accidents—and resulted in about 300 deaths.

According to Furniture Today, part of the problem may be that people are moving their old, bulky TV's. But I think the problem is simpler than that. Flat screens are easy to knock over because they don't have the wide bases of the old tube and projection varieties. Plus, they often hang on the wall, which is an added risk, and because of their thin size, people are putting them in more precarious places than they used to. And of course, anyone who has been around children long enough (or remembers being one!) knows that they love to climb on things, and it seems likely to me that a child would try to climb up the front of a flat screen TV since, given enough time, a child will climb on everything they lay eyes on.

This situation reminds me of a time, several years back, when we came into some extremely heavy solid wood furniture (I'm talking several hundred pounds for a chest of drawers). At a show, we were on the brink of selling one of these gargantuan chests to a woman when she told us it was going in her young child's bedroom. We had to refuse the sale, because we knew that if the child tried climbing the chest, it could tip over, quickly rendering the ingredients for a New Guinea meat pie.

What's my point? As much as we try, we don't always make the most responsible decision when it comes to how we use our furniture (and our TV's). To me, the solution seems obvious, but that may be because I own two ferrets whose primary purpose for living is to find new ways to get into my stuff, including my oven, my recliner, and of course my wire-stuffed TV cabinet. I am always developing new ways to keep them out—and just like ferrets, the best way to keep children off of a TV would be to lock it up in a TV cabinet or linen press, which is what plenty of people do, in any case—e.g. our TV cabinet selection.

But you don't have to shop with us to avoid being one of those 14,700 homes per year that discover the perilous ingenuity of children. Televisions, other appliances, and topple-ready furniture—killer or otherwise—should just be kept locked away or out of reach from children, because, as with all things, otherwise they will eventually find a way to make a mess with it.

Almost all of us have seen or sat in a La-Z Boy armchair, that classic icon of home-grown American manufacturing. Not all of us know, however, that La-Z Boy remains such a familiar name today because of the manipulation of market forces.

Case in point: La-Z-Boy receives $3 million in anti-dumping duties. The bailouts aren't new—the Byrd Amendment was signed in 2000. In the last 3 years, La-Z Boy has received $18.2 million in anti-dumping duties.

Another less known fact is that small businesses account for around 80% of American jobs. La-Z Boy is not one of those small companies.

Obviously, it would be impossible to distribute $3 million to every single domestic producer or retailer in the nation. The anti-dumping duties are also designed to protect American manufacturing and not retailers. And yet it is retailers who account for a massive percentage not only of the job market, but also of the furniture market share.

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A recent article over at Furniture Today about economic recovery characterizes recent developments in the market (particularly at High Point) as an upswing. One quote from Kevin O'Connor, president of Samson Marketing and chairman of the High Point Market Authority, reads, "I think attendance probably was flat, but in this economy, I consider that pretty good." I would emphasize the words in this economy.

It is true that most of the opinions offered in the article are positive, but many are qualified with sentiments like the above: people are just glad that things don't look flat out apocalyptic these days, but I would argue that although things don't look as grim as they did back in the beginning of summer, the economy is still losing jobs on the whole (only at a slower pace), so the economy may not be necessarily on the upswing, just less fatal.

Besides, Fall tends to be the best season for furniture and antiques, since people want to stock their homes with new dining furniture and other domestic trophies before the relatives show up on Thanksgiving and Christmas. After that, things usually start to slow down again for most shows and dealers alike. Still, I hesitate to put a damper on the positive mood, so while I remain optimistic, and while we do seem to have weathered the worst of the storm, I foresee more hardship ahead before we resume pushing antiques by the container load as we saw back in 2007.

As for Atlanta, I think we'll keep our title for the East's biggest antique importer. But as every dealer, designer and investor knows, only time will tell.

So I know it seems sometimes that I just love to pick on IKEA (and maybe I do), but when I ran across this article, I just had to share it. The skinniest house in New York—more history here—which runs at 9.5' x 42', was built in 1873 and once housed Pulitzer Prize-winning poet Edna St. Vincent Millay, is up for sale at $2.7 mil. And who steps in to offer to furnish the place for up to $10,000? The laminate name that shines with the gloss of new and vibrant disposable furniture.

There is a great irony in furnishing a multimillion dollar home with furniture designed for dorm rooms. Everyone I know who lived off of IKEA furniture in college spent those four or so years gradually replacing each piece with better finds at thrift stores and antique shops. Of course, as with everything, there are exceptions, and so IKEA does beef up their line with somewhat higher quality items, but even so—$2.7 million? Maybe I just don't get it down here in the Deep South of Atlanta, where we take low real estate prices and large spaces for granted.

Still, what can be more space-saving than a secretary bookcase combination or, for that matter, the ever-useful pembroke table? The English, who have historically had smaller living spaces than their expansive cousins over the pond, have specialized in space-saving cabinetry for hundreds of years. In fact, many of IKEA's designs, which sometimes present themselves with an air of ingeniously patented innovation, are simply borrowed from Old World cabinetmakers.

So if the buyers of this unique home have the taste (and the wallet) to purchase a charming, historical property, I really can't see them letting IKEA's designers have their way with the place. Who knows—maybe they'll shop at English Classics?

Some blame eBay for paring down the retail market.