I'm at That Age

by David Goldman 

I’m there. I’m at that age. I remember my parents talking about it and now I’ve joined the circle. What are you talking about you ask? Is it about reaching the point where you’re empty-nesters? Or when you start talking about moving to a warmer climate? Perhaps it’s the point where you find yourself forgetting a common word that you’ve used your whole life? While all of those are true for me, that’s not what I’m talking about here. I’m talking about the age where you’re body has decided it doesn’t need to sleep at night.

I remember when my parents reached this stage. They’d get out of bed in the morning and discuss how long each one slept, whether it was an ache or pain that kept them awake, or they just couldn’t sleep. Now my wife and I do the same thing. With her it’s usually related to some soreness in her back, shoulders, or hips. For me, it’s usually either not being able to fall asleep at all, or falling soundly asleep and then waking up feeling fully rested, and realizing I’ve been asleep for not quite an hour and a half. That leaves me with the bulk of the night left to ponder the meaning of life or the mysteries of the universe.

It certainly wasn’t always like this. I used to be able to sleep with the best of them. As a teenager, I had no problem sleeping till noon or later if my parents would let me. My dad was my biggest adversary when it came to sleeping late. He was probably mad because he couldn’t sleep late anymore and if he couldn’t, he wasn’t going to let me. He’d insist I get up, usually no later than 10 a.m. on the weekends. I know, I know … 10 a.m. sounds pretty late to you. But when you’re 16, sleeping late seems as natural as, well, sleeping! He’d come into my room and unceremoniously shout, “Get up!” continuously, until I obliged. He may as well have come in and run an air hammer because that was the effect his voice had on me. And if I still didn’t get up, he’d go into the bathroom, fill a glass with ice cold water, and toss it on me. Of course, my mom was none too pleased whenever he did that. Maybe that’s why I never liked swimming pools unless the water was at least 85°.

Once I was in college I was allowed to sleep as long as I wanted, and I did. It was like heaven on earth.  I could finally sleep. And sleep I did! Weekdays I didn’t have class till at least noon and that usually seemed too early. And Saturdays and Sundays were my days to sleep in. 1:00, 2:00, even 3:00 p.m. or later was not unusual for my wake-up time. And it wasn’t just me. It was all of my friends. The same ones that now send me emails at 4 or 5 a.m. because they can’t sleep either! Ah, the good old days.

It wasn’t always like this. I remember as a kid waking up regularly at 6:00 a.m. or earlier. I’d get up, march downstairs and see what was going on. My house was pretty busy most of the time when I was young. There were seven of us living in a three bedroom home so people were always awake at just about any hour of the day. I’d come down and my parents and grandparents were always already up adjusting their dentures for the day. My dad had either left or was just about to leave for work and there was always a pot of coffee brewing. Everyone else who was up was also smoking by that time. Back then, it seemed normal to wake up, come down the stairs, and walk into a kitchen with the heavy smell of cigarettes and coffee. I can still feel my eyes burn as I think about walking into the room that felt like a tear gas canister had just exploded.

I’d turn on the TV to watch a kids’ show and if I was early enough, I’d catch the test pattern being shown. At 6:00 or 7:00 broadcasting would begin with a rendition of the national anthem. Kind of like the first music video! Then came the farm report. I could never figure out why they were showing the farm report on TV in Chicago.

I guess it was somewhere around the age of 12 or 13 that things began to change and I could sleep. And sleep. And sleep some more.

But now, that’s all changed. The mornings when I wake up and realize I’ve had a full night’s sleep seem like a festive occasion. 

            “I slept through the night!”

            “You did?! What was it like? Do you know how you did it?”

Of course, this is the rare exception. Most nights are spent with at least several hours of tossing and turning and trying to will myself into a state of sleep. Lately it’s been something else. Kramer on the Seinfeld show once complained of it. He said he had the Jimmy legs. It’s my legs constantly telling me they want to move into a different position only to have that position become passé within about 3 seconds. I then spend the next hour or so doing an unaccompanied bossa nova in bed.

My nocturnal energy isn’t all bad. Now that our son has moved to New York, his bedroom has become my office. So before, where I had to tiptoe down into the cold, dank basement where my office was, I can now simply slip into the room next door and work on the computer. No one wakes up and asks me what I’m doing. Not even the dogs. They sleep the night. How do they do it? And in dog years one of them is older than me!

So my nights are pretty eventful. I normally get in bed around 11:15 ready for a great night’s sleep. This seems to be when I get most of my work done. I think about all the things I need to do the next day, send emails to myself from my phone to remind me, and then I usually fall asleep. An hour later I wake up and begin the TV marathon. There’s some fascinating stuff on late at night – a movie that’s  not very good, yet I’ve still seen three or four times and I’ll watch it again. Then perhaps Modern Marvels is on the History Channel doing a show about cheese or hex bolts. If I’m lucky I’ll catch a good infomercial. Have you seen the new foot scrubber you stick to your bathtub floor and just slide your foot in and out of? Ha! Only a fool would bend down to wash his feet! And on a night like last night, it affords me the opportunity to have woken up, walked the dogs, showered, and written this post all before 7 a.m.

And tell me, who of you are reading this because you can’t sleep either?