Savage Words: Visions of Snoopy danced in my head

Have you ever watched A Charlie Brown Thanksgiving?

No doubt if you’re of a certain age that you have. It’s a classic during the holidays.

One of the greatest scenes in cinematic animation is from that show. It’s when Snoopy – the trusted pet Beagle who has uncanny human characteristics – fights with a folding chair.

Even at 55 years of age, I chuckle – out loud -–at that one-minute masterpiece.

I’ve thought of that scene more than once over the last week or so. I recently purchased a new bed and mattress, and some of the struggles Snoopy had with the chair have crept into my life with the mattress.

I needed a new one. I’m not entirely certain what the lifespan of a mattress is, but I clearly used up more than one with the mattress I just got rid of. Let’s just say, it served its purpose.

The prospect of purchasing a new mattress seemed daunting. Watching television, or especially listening to the radio throughout the day, you’re inundated with mattress ads. Who knew there were so many options, so many decisions to be made regarding a piece of furniture that you’re unconscious on for a good portion of your life.

I went to the store with all intentions of making a good, solid purchase. I was willing to spend a little money on a quality mattress. In the end, I certainly didn’t get the Ferrari of mattresses, but I did get a loaded Lexus. And I had no intention of that.

When I laid on the mattress in the store, it was comfy. I liked it. But then the sales guy handed me a remote control. Before I knew it, my legs were raised five degrees simply by the push of a button. Then my legs were lowered a touch, and I raised my head and neck by another push of the button. I could easily picture myself watching TV from bed in that position.

The remote even had a little flashlight on it. When the demonstration by the thrifty sales guy was done, I asked him if for the price, would someone would bring me a sandwich each night. Surprisingly, not included.

At the end of the demonstration, the sandwich joke aside, and with the comforts and bells and whistles of the new mattress squarely embedded in my brain, I handed the dude my credit card and said, “Sold.”

His response was a bit strange, and now that I think about it a bit, a tad discouraging.

“You sure,” he asked.

I was sure. Flat-bed be damned.

When they had it delivered, the first night in my room was like an amusement park. I had that remote working overtime as I tried each degree of raising under my feet and head. I worked on finding just the right position.

I watched TV for a bit in one position, then tweaked the pitch a tad. Then again. I’m sure it was quite a show for my chocolate lab as I bent it, twisted it, raised it and lowered it.

The next morning, I was sore.

Dammit. I just dropped more money on a mattress than I ever, ever thought I would in my lifetime. And the end result: I was sore. 

So, the confrontation continued the following night. I started the bed on the ‘FLAT’ level on the remote. I kinda rolled my eyes on that.

“If I bought a mattress with all the bells and whistles,” I said to myself. “Then there’s going to be some bells ringing and whistles blowing.” So I started again on the pitching, the twisting, the lowering and raising.

I woke up at 4 a.m., and the bed was in the FLAT position. That seemed weird. I didn’t remember doing it, but obviously my unconscious-self decided that would be best for a good night’s sleep. And I got it. 

I was actually a little disappointed with that. I spent all this money on a mattress that did everything except apparently bring me a sandwich, and the best sleep I had was when it served as just a normal, flat surface.

I’ve since tweaked the pitches a bit, and thankfully, I’ve found the sweet spot for sleep. It’s a bit raised at the end of the bed, and just a little bit more at the top. It’s about right.

But it took some doing, and more than once when I was fighting with it in the middle of the night, Charlie Brown’s dog snuck into my head. 

My dog on the other hand? She’d seen enough of me and my mattress struggles. She left, went into the living room and slept.

Dang, is she ever missing out now on the perfect set up.