The chair I sit in to watch television and movies is creeping me out. I believe it’s magic, possibly even possessed by the devil.

Really. It has some bodacious supernatural powers not even remotely understood by the scientific community, the most prominent of which is its ability to make me fall asleep almost instantly.

The other person who lives at our house gets angry at my chair (and, of course, me), for just that reason.

“You’d better not sleep through this stupid movie!” she’s been known to yell across the little table that separates our wingback recliners. “You’re the one who wanted to watch it.”

Sometimes that vehemence is enough to shake the spell of the magic chair and keep me awake through an entire movie or TV program.

Now, a suspenseful, active story — or a rousing musical performance — I have no trouble with. But, if it’s one of those talky Masterpiece Theater things, a whodunit with all kinds of plot twists, or a long, OPB interview — well, I’m not gonna make it.

In my own defense, I must say that this falling asleep thing is not new, and it is not entirely the fault of my advancing age. I’ve been doing it in one form or another for years. In fact, there have been times when I have nodded off in waiting rooms, on buses, in dentist chairs, on massage tables and at work in front of my computer. If we lived in the old west instead of now, I’m sure I could sleep on a stage coach.

The other person who lives at our house, on the other hand, is often unable to fall asleep in her own bed, which I have foolishly tried to characterize at times in the past as unnatural — which, of course, wins me no points whatsoever.

But I digress. Back to the magic chair.

I don’t really want to name the specific brand, because it’s well known, and I don’t need any more conflict in my life than I already have, but the unfortunate truth is, we aren’t that happy with these chairs anyway. TOPWLAOH finds her’s a bit uncomfortable, and both of our chairs seemed to start falling apart the day they were delivered to our home.

An important lesson I have learned about our chairs is the fact that I almost never fall asleep if I don’t recline mine. (They do recline in two positions, by the way, the first just a slight, airplane-like mini-lean, but the second position is so far back all you see is the ceiling — you know, kind of like an astronaut.)

So, I try like crazy to keep my chair in the upright position. But I have to say it’s almost impossible not to click into that first semi-laid-back position — it’s so stinking comfortable! And then, of course, it’s just a matter of time before I find myself waking to the sound of magazines hitting me in the face and chest.

It has occurred to me that this could be a thing with people of Irish descent.

I say this only because my friend and co-worker Michael O’Shaughnessy has a picture on his Facebook page of him sound asleep in a wooden rocking chair. Actually, I’m pretty sure it was his wife who took the photo, since we easy sleepers aren’t exactly proud of our disability — and as talented as Mike is, I don’t think he could have taken the picture himself.

Now, it could be that our predilection for Guiness and Jameson (not to mention Bushmills) has something to do with our tendency to nod off, but in all fairness, three times out of four when I fall asleep in my magic chair, I have not been on a visit to the liquor world.

My Grandma Kelly used to have the same problem. She could fall asleep in a kitchen chair with a cup of coffee in her lap while one of her favorite programs was on (“Courtship of Eddie’s Father” or “Family Affair”) — and never spill a drop. She’d come back to life when the theme music kicked up at the end of the episode and exclaim, “Oh, that Buffy and Jody, they’re a couple of little pistols, they are!”

“Watching TV through your eyelids,” is how we’ve always described this phenomenon at our house. Sometimes it is accompanied by the “herky-jerky head bob,” characterized by the slow collapse of the neck muscles until the old bean flops over (forward, backward or to either side) far enough to wake you up, causing the body — always on the alert for something not quite right — to release a jolt of adrenaline and spring the head back to the upright position, almost with a recognizable “boy-yoy-yoing!” — and always with a bug-eyed proclamation about how the offender wasn’t really asleep at all but rather just resting the eyes a bit.

And this is another wonderful thing about my magic chair. Thanks to its amazing high upper body (and yes, even head) support, I don’t go through that embarrassing floppy thing.

The only real solution may be for me to get rid of my reclining wingback chair and just stand up through whatever movie or program is on the screen.

In 65 years of life, I’ve never fallen asleep while standing. I’m very proud of that.

Former editor of the Review as well as the Beaverton Valley Times and The Times, Kelly is chief of the central editing and design desk for Community Newspapers and the Portland Tribune, and he contributes a regular column.