Sweep and Sleep

I’m not only a floor-sweeper, I’m a floor-sleeper. And I’ve never swept, or slept, better. I sweep my dreams, those I can remember, and I sleep my broom. We both are kind to dustpans.

Over the years, I’ve found all mattresses to be back-breakers. Finally, it dawned on me that humans aren’t really meant to sleep that way. Now I can stretch out anywhere, on any firm surface, drift off within a minute or two, and wake up fresh and pain-free.

I will not, however, try a bed of nails. I’m not so inclined. But I’m sure there’s a video somewhere extolling its merits, and selling a new model with the latest rust-free technology.

Generally speaking, I’ve found that if it costs hundreds or thousands of dollars, it isn’t something I need. Or one hundred dollars, or ten. A penny in a gumball machine.

There’s almost always a simpler way. A leaf rake instead of a noisy, bird-scaring blower.

I’m sixty-seven. That should be worth something, as any age should, learning our way to childhood.

From The Oxford Book of Aphorisms, 1983: “To be clever enough to get all that money, one must be stupid enough to want it.” G.K. Chesterson, The Innocence of Father Brown, 1911.

September 9, 2023.

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