As the woes of this long winter passing maxed out, creeping closer to that “continental divide” of time that separates the worst of chill from the first hint of denouement down the other side into spring, I decided make some changes that would never occur to a hummin’ bean with closer ties to civil humanity. The first change was to move my dresser, a six=drawer, attractive, clean, asset to most bedrooms of all who take pride in being members of polite society. Over the last 20 years, it has provided diminishing utility in the role God and previous girl friends would rightfully have sanctioned: the storage of clothes: folded sweaters, seldom worn business attire, well-creased and neatly folded slacks that transit, as needed, to and from the dry cleaners. folded neck ties. socks and of course shorts: Munsingwears, Fruit of the Looms, Jockeys, etc. As my personal life has rotted into my “nearer my God to thee” years, I’ve been unburdened from the bother of neckties and sharp trousers, and without the need for them, most had migrated to hangars in distant closets and the local land fill. In their place came remnants of memories: cartoons, newspaper clippings, event programs. Those items reposed less than a few years in the dresser and most transited onward into the trash. I had been holding onto a lot of things because I thought that someday I would be “famous” and the details would matter. I don’t feel that way anymore.
The dresser was too large for my bedroom for furniture I hardly used. I decided to replace it with something that really mattered: my recliner rocker La-Zee Boy which I call Sominex after the sleeping pill of the same name. (The song in their TV TV commercials of the 60s sang “Take Sominex tonight and sleep/ Safe and restful sleep. . . sleep . . . sleep.” And it’s easier to spell than the brand name of the chair.
I moved the dresser out in January and moved Sominex in. Contents of the three left hand desk drawers of my bedroom desk went into an empty dresser drawer in a corner of my living room where I transit but never stop. Until the weather warms more, and until I find some friends — I have almost no friends anymore; haven’t had a party at my house for four years — that’s how it will be.
Into the top left-hand desk drawer went my three pairs of socks which I buy at the Shop’N’Save grocery store. Into the second and third left-hand desk drawers went my shorts. They’re handy there.
Sominex has become a second bed to me; a real “sleep aid.” Six out of seven days a week and sometimes seven, I eat dinner and nap swaddled in Sominex. That’s were I fall asleep after eating — mostly prepared salads from the supermarket and iced tea or Burgundy. Sometimes I awaken after sleeping from three- or four-hour naps that I find my fork in my lap. Sometimes I rise from Sominex and either spend time on the Internet between midnight and 3:00 or 4:00 or 5:00 am . . . . and then lurch into bed after a last few swallows of Burgundy . . . . . . or I just remain motionless in Sominex and go back to sleep. . . . . . to arise from 4:30 to 7:00 AM, depending on how ambitious I feel.
The change in the bedroom has made a difference, but not much of an improvement. I’d rather eat at a table, but my desk is too cluttered all the time, and the living room is too cold. a blanket or sweatshirt are essential when reclining in you-know-what.
On the positive, the arrangement is easier, simpler, and I’m adjusting to being a frustrated straight American poet/songwriter who used to be “almost an ‘also ran'”. It’s unconventional in more ways than I can share in this post, but since I can’t live the life I always THOUGHT I’d be living at this stage of my life, I’ll live “interesting” because “comfortable” is not a card in the hand I’m holding now, which is totally my own. I’m okay with that. It will do.
Live long . . . . . . . . . and proper.
Honey & Quinine 