Ah yes, I remember it well.
My lifetime sleep pattern is the kind of crazy bullshit that goes through my mind when I am blissfully stoned.
Old school Panama Red.
Red clay hash-tasting Redbud.
Very happy stone.
My very first sleep pattern had to be like all babies, but I am sure MY baby boo-boos did not smell as badly as other infants’.
I think I kept my baby sleep routine through the sixth grade.
In sixth grade I was already four years into my lifelong infatuation with members of the opposite sex.
When I was in first grade my dumbass sister told me that I had “eyebugs.” To prove it she told me to pull only ONE of my eyelashes out. I did and she pointed out the little white “bug” at the tip.
So I pulled out every single one of my eyelashes.
It was awesome that Mom whipped her ass and I got to see it. I have no doubts I had one hell of a broad smile on my mug.
I think I looked like a hip young Sal Mineo because I had to wear (who am I kidding? I GOT to wear) sunglasses everywhere I went, including school.
The doctors said it would be about six weeks until it would be safe to ditch the shades. I managed to convince the world I was blind as a bat including a carefully orchestrated act-like-I-didn’t-see-an-oncoming-car routine I pulled off, so I was able to extend my “cool factor” for another month.
It was then I knew I could be a world-class actor if I so desired.
So, the last Good Night’s Sleep I got was …
Drum roll please…
How lame is that? I got the idea for this blog because I thought I kept getting up in my sleep, but this morning Domestic Despot KAREN bin Laden told me I was out like a light all night. Evidently, I was not flopping around like a Wicked Tuna as is my wont.
Both dogs had positioned themselves right under the air conditioning vents and my usual machinations would send them flying, or at least seeking the stability of the couch.
I went to bed early and got up “late” compared to my travelling schedule.
When I was a chef, I slept 4 hours per night.
For 23 years.
When I was on the road in the early seventies, sleep was something that usually got in the way of something magical or spiritual on one level or another. When exhaustion would overtake me, I would always awake in one of God’s Scenes: by a body of water, amidst a lush forest, or ensconced in fields of flowers as all forms of animal life gracefully and fearlessly shared their lifespace with me and my best friend Chopper Maximilian (Blue Max) McDuff Diaz.
That was the name on his AKC papers.
A very purebred German Shorthaired Pointer that was field-trained by a trainer of national renown, he was a winner in the AKC Novice Puppy Division.
He pointed out 6 of the 10 bobwhite quail that had been placed on the field course. He also successfully retrieved 4 birds.
He shredded the field.
Chopper’s sleep pattern was pretty much the same as mine.