Comparing Mattresses
I drive a route these days from NYC to Virginia and then down to North Carolina, along the eastern edge of that mountain range that runs from upstate New York to Georgia. On I-78 to I-81 to I-66 to 512 to 211 and then from 211 to 231 to 29 to 86 to 49 and back again, stopping in Virginia long enough each way to do a couple of chores at Mt. Pleasant and let my erector spinae rejuvenate from the horror of that cheap mattress on the floor of my N. Carolina house, a mattress so crappy that even the long time renters, who by all appearances loved their junk, eschewed its removal to their new digs.
Bernadette travels with me on some of these trips and while not a complainer by nature she did find justifiable reason to cry out near the end of our most recent one week stay at the NC rental house from hell, oh God I will be glad to sleep on a real mattress. I was in too much pain myself to have much sympathy for her but once on the road back north I did, after musing over proper wording and convincing myself that concession is not weakness, admit, you know, you are right about that mattress.
Arriving back at Mt. Pleasant we picked up Bill Macy, whom we had kidnapped out of NYC and along with a bag of groceries and a six foot extending duster mop, dropped in Virginia, placing him in charge of caretaker duties while we were in NC. We took him to dinner and mentioned hardly at all his 40th birthday spent alone on the hill, with only an overweight kitty and a few suicidal deer to break up the monotony of his solitary confinement.
Before dinner, while driving up through Nelson County, VA. under a dimly lit gray/blue sky, I was feeling while looking beyond the occasional back and forth movement of wiper blades, that winter is perhaps the loveliest time of the year to be driving through these forested mountains. With the leaves fallen are exposed vistas not seen the rest of the year and the relentless green is replaced with shades and shadows more subtle and seductive. And there is a sense of relief from the claustrophobic intensity of life lived in a maze. There is at least the insinuation, by being able to see so much farther in all directions, that the road you are on is not the only one there is, or to my thinking, perhaps even better, that you don't need to be on a road at all.
Before Nelson County, on the edge of Lynchburg, we passed a coffee hut, on the other side of the road, and it promised a product voted best coffee, without reference to who did the voting or how big a region they were claiming. By the time we were able to make the U-turn behind a long line of cars, the little coffee hut had its own line, so while I admit I was a little bit frantic and crazy sounding while ranting to Bernadette, I can't believe we have just made this effort for a latte, at the same time I was hopeful, due to the traffic in front of us, that this might really be some good product. But it wasn't. And a few miles later, while tapping the plastic top on her latte, when Bernadette mused, you know what the problem here is? I was so overwhelmed by the possible responses in existence that I made her pause and give me time to think of a good one and then I asked her to take it from the top, but her brain moves so fast she was already onto politics or something and she repeated something of that vein, and I said, no, no, the other thing, about what the problem is, and so she lobbed me one, and repeated do you know what the problem is? And I said, that I listen to you? I should have choked up on the bat more, I think I could have really hit this one out of the park but instead it was a long fly ball that bounced off the foul pole, back into the field of play, and was caught by the right fielder. About 20 miles up the road, on the edged of Lovington, we stopped at a hippie bookshop and bought a double shot of espresso to add to the lattes but they were still not so good and we drove on, arriving in Charlottesville for rush hour, which we drove through without much aggravation, because we both knew we were nearing the home stretch, and a home with a much better mattress.
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