In Sleep we lie all naked and alone, in Sleep we are united at the heart of night and darkness, and we are strange and beautiful asleep; for we are dying the darkness and we know no death. —Tom Wolfe
[one_half padding=”4px 10px 0 4px”]I’m sitting here this morning wondering if I can survive writing about sleeping. I’m too close to having just awakened to feel very objective about the subject. I like sleep far too much, get far too little of it, and rarely anymore do I risk doing it naked. This is where being an adult and pretending to be responsible really becomes a drain on one’s spirit. I would have much rather stayed in bed this morning. Kat is still there, sleeping soundly, and the cats are still snuggled at her feet. The bed is inviting. Why the hell am I up typing at this hour? Oh yeah, this is the only time I have for things like this. Life, you know.
Do a quick search on sleeping naked and you’ll inevitably find all kinds of advice columns about the health benefits of tossing your pajamas to the side before you slip under the covers. Some of those articles even invoke science and medicine, which makes me sad that I wasn’t invited to be part of those studies. I would happily volunteer for someone to pay me to sleep. I wouldn’t even charge that much; maybe ten dollars so I could buy a decent breakfast when I woke up. Such is the story of my life, though. No one ever invites me to participate in the really fun experiments.
Sleeping naked is something into which one gradually becomes comfortable. I don’t think anyone can make the claim that it’s natural. Even babies liked to be diapered and swaddled tightly. Sleeping naked requires the right combination of comfortable accommodations and safe environment. The room temperature has to be just right. The sheets have to be clean and soft. Any companion not only has to also be naked, but they have to be totally non-judgmental; not merely about your body, but about your sleeping style as well. This sleeping naked thing gets complicated.[/one_half]
[one_half_last padding=”4px 4px 0 10px”]Sleeping naked comes with some challenges, as well. The last thing anyone wants to do is wake up to an embarrassing situation. Risks have to be eliminated as much as possible. No going to bed with candles still burning. Make sure you’re not sleeping next door to a meth lab that’s about to be raided. Don’t sleep naked during a tornado watch. When sleeping naked, we must realize that we are not going to wake up looking as sexy as when we went to bed, not even close. We don’t need strangers seeing us in such a disheveled state, especially if those strangers might be attractive.
Then, there’s the matter of children. There’s no sleeping naked when there are children in the house who are old enough to come wandering in to talk to mommy in the middle of the night, and it’s always mommy they want. The sounds daddies make when they sleep are frightening to small children, so they always choose the quieter parent; the one they mistakenly assume to be more sympathetic and comforting. Having absolutely no concept of spatial boundaries, children will attempt to crawl right into the bed with you and when you are sleeping naked things immediately become awkward, if not downright embarrassing.
Sure, sleeping naked is wonderful, good for your health and good for relationships, but it sure is a lot of trouble as well. By the time one has mitigated the risk factors, changed the sheets, put out the candles, locked the doors, changed the batteries in the smoke detectors, and duct taped the children to their beds, you might just be too exhausted to care. And there’s no rest for the wicked, so I’ve heard, so I might as well make another pot of coffee.[/one_half_last]
The Joys of Coffee
At The Coffee Shop (2011)
If it wasn’t for the coffee, I’d have no identifiable personality whatsoever. -David Letterman
[one_half padding=”4px 8px 0 4px”]Yes, I’m well aware that today is Mother’s Day in the US and yes I’ve shot enough mothers and children to have given that the theme for the whole week. That’s rather crowded territory today, though, and if you’re sitting on your computer or mobile device reading this then you’re obviously not spending time with your mother, for reasons we won’t discuss, so we decided to go a very different direction for this week and talk about something that is near and dear to my own heart: Coffee.
I have been drinking coffee since I was 14. Granted, I didn’t drink as much of it then as I do now, and I tended to dump loads of sugar and milk in it until Poppa caught me and said if I were going to drink the stuff I had to drink it straight. I think he was hoping that would put me off and that I’d stop, but it didn’t. I learned to drink it black and enjoy the flavor of the bean itself, not all the flavor and garbage dumped on top. To this day, I fail to understand the fascination with lattes and cappuccinos and other fancy coffee-based drinks. I suppose there’s nothing wrong if you really like all that sweetness and confection actually in your coffee. I prefer my coffee black, a bold roast if you please, something of moderate acidity.
Coffee drinking has taken a lot of heat over the years (pardon the pun). I was told it would stunt my growth, that it would damage my kidneys, and that it could lead to more dangerous addictions (yes, a dear old church lady actually told me that). Some religions forbid the drinking of coffee because of its caffeine (they’d rather their members not be too alert). Like anything else we try to enjoy, there’s always someone right there waiting to tell us we shouldn’t. We tend to ignore those people.[/one_half]
[one_half_last padding=”4px 4px 0 8px”]Instead, we prefer to consider facts that say things like:
What may be most compelling about coffee in today’s society, though, is its qualities as an object of social construct. Coffee shops have become the meeting place for everything from first dates to important business meetings. Today’s picture, made somewhat humorous by the expressions on the men’s faces, is an example of coffee’s social attraction. A large storm had just swept through the area, flooding streets and knocking out power. Anyone in the neighborhood when the storm hit was just stuck. There was no getting out. Where did they go? The coffee shop. Their large carafes of coffee were already full and an honor box let patrons pay without needing a cash register. The coffee shop offered comfort, safety, friendship. and a place to pretend to get work done.
So here’s to coffee, the good and bad and everything else we’ll talk about this week. Now, put down your phone and go talk to your mother. Maybe over a cup of coffee.[/one_half_last]
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