John Brazell

PILLOW TALK: Sweet nothings over a sack of feathers



Posted: Saturday, October 03, 2009

by John Brazell

After all these years my sweetie and I are still passionate pillow-talkers. We talk about fat ones, skinny ones, striped ones, round ones and my favorite that came over on the Mayflower.

She's fond of the Doris Day and Rock Hudson look two shiny-sheathed pouffy standup pillows in back, a second row tilted slightly backward, a solitary rose and a Champs Elysees bon-bon strategically placed on the satiny backdrop. Though, with Senior Discounts waning and the Social Security raise stimulating someone besides me, a "Lifesaver" mint and a sprig of bougainvillea might have to do.

"But Rock," I gently remind her, "turned out to be quite an actor, if you get my drift."

She sleeps in a semi-reclined position and moves only twice on any given night. It's understandable as even goose-down, polyester or Kleenex packed in sufficient mass would keep a utility pole upright.

Me? I bore into my half-king side of the Posturepedic, like a Texas Armadillo digging for slugs, and wrap a relatively thin sack of something loosely called a pillow around my head. I've occasionally awakened between the mattress and foot-board, perpendicular, hyperventilating, and dead certain I was straddling the San Andreas Fault .

Upon the break of a new day, half our bed looks like the prize display window at Macy's and the other half the aftermath of a smack-down at a Red Apple Day sheet and pillow sale.

This you should know though it's uncomfortably upfront and personal. I am a recovering S omnambulist. If it's not clear already, I'm also a "wild man" in bed, something, though grossly misleading, I once took pleasure in hearing. I don't know if these two conditions are related except both occur after dark and mostly with my pajamas on. I don't think I sleepwalk anymore, but how can one be sure?

Here's a little pillow history which is thrilling, then I'll bring you up to date on our family pillow-fight, er, talk.

Pillows got their start back in ancient Egypt when Cleopatra, afraid of asps crawling in her ears, began to elevate her head and sleep with her mouth closed. She demanded large round stones which became the "rage" of her subjects as they served both as a headrest and means of smiting asps, bugs and Philistines. From thus came the odd saying, "I killed two, three or four birds (or asps) with one stone."

Carrying forth the efficient and multi-purposing concept to America , cowboys of the Old West used their saddle for a head-rest at night. It's noteworthy that a saddle, much like modern-day bed-pillows and seat-pillows (cushions) when interchanged, provide both comfort and ergonomic symmetry to all four of the human cheeks.

Over the last century, people have gone nuts over pillows. Now you're up to date.

A few years ago I came down with a medical condition called GERD, or more commonly, Reflux. They should have called it Pep Le Pew's Revenge. Reflux is guaranteed to rip and tear at your esophagus when you eat anything spicier than tofu. A real Texan doesn't stand a chance.

It's best treated with the "Purple Pill", a definitive elevation of the head and shoulders at night and the "right kind" of pillows. Evidently lying flat for long periods doesn't work well for anything other than a full body CAT scan, doing the Limbo dance and plying one's talents in the world's oldest profession.

Lately I've softened my stance on pillows and sought more earnestly the advice of the world class pillow-whisperer on the other half of my bed. We've readjusted the elevation of the head of our bed and pulled more pouffy pillows out of storage. She patiently describes and demonstrates the finer points of two-pouffy-pillow sleeping. As a final capitulation I bought a Pillow Wedge (AKA Wedgie) a relatively firm polyfoam head and shoulder rest, shaped, if you can imagine, like a wedge of cheese.

Aside from a sore and stiff neck and the recurring nightmare that I'm being beaten to death with giant marshmallows, I'm doing okay. It's the thought of a wedgie that's driving me nuts. I haven't had one of those since junior high school.

John L. Brazell is a native Texan and resides in the beautiful Hill Country near Austin, Texas. He's a retired corporate executive. John’s love for writing can be traced to high school typing class when he first typed, "Now is the time for all good men to come to the aid of their party." As the only boy in class he took the instruction literally and fell in love with a forty-pound Royal Typewriter and every girl in the class. 

He is a member of several writing groups and has been published in ezines, newsletters/newspapers, community and corporate publications. His unfinished version of the next "Great American Novel" is entitled, The Unfinished Great American Novel.

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Top-level comments on this article: (1 total)
» left by Brianna Popsickle 2 years 225 days ago.
Finding the right pillow is no easy task, I haven't found it yet.  But I have to say, I'm a fan of the Rock Hudson, Doris Day look too. Good article WildMan. :)
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