Does LaZboy Ever Change? 

You may say to yourself "things never change in the world of furniture" and to this, I say "Well, pull up a chair. Preferably one that can support a grown adult who enjoys red meat and silence."

LaZboy has been around longer than most trends, diets, and most certainly longer than all of those fancy boy bands. Companies that old usually sit back, pat themselves on the back, and call it a day. Which, frankly, I respect. If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it. But apparently someone at LaZboy  decided, “You know what this perfectly good throne needs? More power.”

Let’s talk about the Lazy Boy United. The classic. The workhorse. The chair equivalent of a well-built cabin in the woods with the perfect amount of lighting and the exact correct number of visible neighbours... Zero.

Soft, but not weak. Wide arms sturdy enough to rest a steak on. Lumbar support that says, “I got you.” Adjustable headrest. Deep recline at the push of a button. And leather so thick you half expect it to still go "Moo" when you park yourself on it.

You’d think they’d leave it alone.

Nope.

They turned it into a full-blown theatre suite.

Cup holders? Of course. I don’t trust a chair without them.
Wireless charging? Fine.
Built-in speakers? Acceptable.
LED lighting? Dramatic, but I’ll allow it.

But here’s where it gets interesting.

This thing syncs to your smart TV and vibrates with the sound. That’s right. Car chase on the screen? Now you're in the passenger seat of the pursuit. Explosion? You feel it in your cheeks. It’s no longer “watching” a movie. It’s participating in it like a patriotic citizen.

And since we’re already shaking the furniture with motors and wizardry, they added massage. That’s correct. You can Shiatsu your way through Married At First Sight and drift off like a champion. I don’t watch reality TV. But if I did, I’d do it with lumbar support and something kneading away the stress.

Now, over to the Sedona.

The Sedona was already solid. Push a button, recline into greatness. Simple. Efficient. The way God intended.

But now? They’ve replaced the button with an infinite scrolling dial. Precision control. You want 73% reclined? Done. You want 91%? Also done. This is not a chair. It’s a comfort laboratory.

And then (because subtlety is apparently dead) they added voice control.

You sit down and say, “Hi Lazy Boy, recline me.”

And it does.

No effort. No reaching. No negotiation.

It’s like having a butler whose only job is to make sure you are horizontal. I don’t need a man named Jeeves bringing me tea. I need one ensuring optimal spinal alignment. Lazy Boy understood the assignment.

These are just a couple of the new upgrades waiting in the showroom at Rowes.

So come in. Sit down. Lean back. Test the motors.

Just don’t call it “just a chair.”

It’s a command center for doing absolutely nothing — and doing it exceptionally well.