As time marches on, many people of my age (51) tend to revert to behavior first experienced in their childhood. Although I have yet to reach the stage when assisted care plays a vital part, I do enjoy a good midday nap. Described as a prolific napper in my toddler years, these little snippets of sleep are once again becoming a necessary part of my day.
Decades from retirement, finding a time and spot to catch a few winks while gainfully employed is tricky, but doable. One of the best places in Roanoke to siesta used to be in the side parking lot of the Cave Spring Krogers. Each day one could spot a half-dozen cars and trucks posted-up alongside the shady bank located in the back of the lot. Driving through the lot you would never actually see anyone in the cars as the drivers were doubtlessly snoozing in fully reclined REM slumber, but they were there all the same. Construction of a drive-in pharmacy has reduced the sleeping space in that lot, forcing nappers to seek other comfy locations.
My Dad was a hall of fame caliber napper. Employed by a New York City dress manufacturer for thirty-nine years, Pop would enjoy a quick daily bag lunch and use the rest of his forty-five minute respite to catch some shut-eye in an overstuffed chair located in the shipping department. Concealed by hanging garments, Pop would snore until the 12:45 horn blew.
Each morning, he would take a bus to the train station, a train into the city and a subway to work, sleeping on each vehicle along the way. Often one could spy Pop with his head leaning on some murderous looking thug’s shoulder as the E train rumbled through lower Manhattan. It must have been cherubic expression on Pop’s slumbering face that prevented him from being killed by his impromptu pillow. Frequently his home-bound train trip ended with a call to our home from a frazzled conductor who had stumbled across my lounging Pop, conked out eight stops past his station and in need of a ride home.
Although I lack the dedication and consistency that my father exhibited, drowsing during the daylight hours is becoming a daily ritual. Once rested, I feel like I am able to make it through the day without interruption, or at least until I reach the sanctity of my recliner at home. My Lay-Z-Boy rendezvous have been infrequent as of late due to the invasion of teenagers who nest in my home daily. Regardless of the time of day, there is always someone enjoying a comfortable moment in my chair when I arrive.
The rest of my off-hours relaxation plans are shoveled and replaced with an ongoing battle with the dogs for supremacy of the living room couch. Usually there are at least two canines on the couch that need to be removed for me to acquire the needed amount of space for my considerable heft. Saddened by the prospect of shoving my doggies to the floor, I immediately activate a doorbell cell phone ringer which I have downloaded to my Blackberry for just this situation. As the hounds bolt for the door to greet out invisible guests, I dive over a coffee table and claim my upholstered kingdom. Isn’t technology wonderful?
It is with great pride that I report that Will, my son, is following the slipper prints of his sleepy ancestors. Following last weekend’s prom celebration at Patrick Henry High School, Will managed to hibernate through the rest of the weekend, awakening only to eat and update his Facebook status with” Zzzzzzzzzzzzzz.”
As for me, I believe I hear gentle shuffling of the Sandman outside of my office door, as I struggle to stay conscious during yet another stimulating conference call. Rest well kind people, and if you hear the faint ringing of a doorbell, remain comfortable and still, it’s just me testing my doorbell strategy on Will.
By Jon Kaufman [email protected]