Sleepless nights

The song “Sleepless Nights,” penned by Felice and Boudleaux Bryant, is one of the most beautiful songs ever written.

However, there is nothing at all beautiful about actual sleepless nights.

I have gone through a lifetime of sleepless nights, or nearly sleepless ones, anyway. Lying there unable to sleep hour after hour is one of the most miserable feelings you can experience, just between stubbing your toe and losing to Florida on the misery scale.

The first sleepless night I can recall is when I was a young boy, and I watched an episode of “The Night Gallery” in which this old couple who had been murdered crawled out of their graves in the night and then attacked their killer with pitchforks. I slept with the windows locked for a few nights after that, even though it was hot and we didn’t run the air conditioning after dark.

It was a big thrill when I was a boy to see if I could stay up all night. My friend Greg and I would camp out in a tent in his back yard and talk big talk about things we knew nothing about, like jumping motorcycles over cars or kissing girls. One night he snuck out one of his daddy’s cigars and a Playboy magazine, but we were afraid to light the cigar. I’m not saying whether or not we looked at the magazine.

One night we were out there in a little camper-trailer his parents owned, trying to stay awake until the day broke. We were lying in our sleeping bags and we had the radio playing, and the song “Time Has Come Today” by the Chambers Brothers came on. It was one of those songs that radio deejays would play in the ’70s because it was 11minutes long, which gave them time to go in the studio bathroom and do something illegal before they had to come out and change the record. Why else do you think “Free Bird” and “Stairway to Heaven” were so popular?

Anyway, when it got to the part where the song slows down and they just chant the word “time” over and over, the record got stuck. I guess the deejay figured he’d caught a break because he just let it play, and for about 10 minutes all we heard was an echoing beat of the drum, then the singer saying “time” over and over and over. It freaked me out more than the old couple with the pitchforks, and we didn’t try to stay up all night again for quite some time.

Even when I do sleep, it’s not very restful because I have a lot of vivid and long and involved dreams. Some people say they don’t remember theirs, but I usually do. I have a bunch of recurrent dreams – dreams about tornadoes, and being chased, and going to school or work in my underwear, and going in for a final exam I haven’t studied for, and going in to a big office to do a mindless job every day. Wait, that last one might be real.

I don’t really think dreams mean anything. At least I hope they don’t. I don’t think they really reflect what you want in your subconscious. For example, I never dream that I’m winning the Masters, or being interviewed about my Pulitzer-prize winning book, or being called onstage by Bruce Springsteen to take the second verse on “Born to Run.” Instead, I dreamed the other night that I was plunging down a steep bank toward a river in my minivan. I assure you, this is not what I want.

Often times, I realize in the middle of the dream that I am indeed dreaming, and I try to do something to wake myself up. Just last night I dreamed I was on top of a building with people shooting at me, so I made a conscious decision to jump off, and sure enough, I woke up before I landed. I hope I don’t do this one day and realize about halfway down that I wasn’t actually dreaming.

When I can’t sleep, I usually just get up for a while and try not to fight it. I’ll read a book or watch TV until I think I can go to sleep again, or maybe just some put on my iPod and listen to music until I drift off. You can believe I don’t have any songs by The Chambers Brothers on there.