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Thursday, April 10, 2008

Finding Comfort Quite An Ordeal

By Rory McClannahan
Mountain View Telegraph
    Conventional wisdom says that as you age, your priorities change.
    To an extent, this is a myth.
    From the day we are born until the day we die, our No. 1 priority never changes— we all seek what gives us pleasure. It is those pleasures that change.
    Babies find pleasure in shiny objects, which is not much different than a wife on Valentine's Day. A 10-year-old might find pleasure in staying up late to watch a movie with his dad. A 17-year-old will find pleasure in borrowing the car to spend a night away from his dad.
    And a 43-year-old man?
    Well, he is discovering the pleasures of comfort. In my case, this means a new bed. It must be pointed out, however, there is little pleasure in shopping for a bed, which ranks up there with shopping for a house, a car or a washing machine. These are tasks fraught with long trips, research, marital discussions and indecision.
    Then there are the sales people. There are, I think, very few people good at selling durable goods and many times it is difficult to tell the difference between the sales people looking to make the most on commission, and the ones who really want to help you. Here's a hint for those of you in that profession, pressure may get you one sale, but honesty will get you many sales. There are several places where I will refuse to shop because of pushy sales staff.
    The spouse and I have been needing a new bed for some time. Our queen-size Sealy had seen better days and both of us had been waking up feeling like we'd gone a couple rounds in a prize fight. We'd put off getting a new bed for a several years, waiting until we had the cash. Finally, the day came when it looked like we could swing it.
    Then we started shopping.
    When you are looking to buy a car, you get to take a test drive and if it's a used car, can usually take it to a mechanic to have it checked out. With a bed, you go to a store and lay down. I suppose you could take a nap, but I've always had a hard time sleeping in public places. At a bed store, there is usually someone hovering over you asking you if it's too soft or too hard. This is one of my personal definitions of discomfort.
    But we went through it, and despite our purchasing decision being interrupted by a 6-year-old son with gastric distress, we bought a bed. Being of Scot-Irish descent, I am cheap, so we didn't pay the set-up fee.
    The bed was delivered in five boxes and left on our doorstep by UPS. In four hours, I had taken down the old bed and set up the new one. The wife went to the store and bought new pillows and when everything was ready, we lay down to finally have a great night sleep, as the salesman promised.
    In reality, it felt like we were on a hotel bed. Everything was foreign and smelled like industrial chemicals. (New bed smell does not have the same allure as new car smell.)
    After a week, we've now settled into our new bed and are starting to see results. The pleasure of comfort has come into my life.
    Now if I can get a new recliner, I think life would be perfect.
    Contact Rory McClannahan at 823-7102 or online at editor@mvtelegraph.com.