Sleep Right

Yesterday I wrote about an adventure in Las Vegas that happened a long time ago.

I have since been back to the city on several occasions.
Never for pleasure, always for business.
You see, I'm not a big fan of Vegas.

I don't like to gamble much, probably because I work too hard for my money and can think of better ways to spend it.

I like to drink, but not in the company of hipster douchebags or visiting sorority girls throwing a bachelorette party for a soon-to-be-divorced bride. Anyone who gets married in Vegas is destined for unmatrimony, in my humble-but-deadly accurate opinion.

And I'm not a fan of what passes for entertainment in Vegas: cheap magic, hackneyed stand up comedy and overpriced titty bars.

Mostly, I don't like sleeping in that town.

Oh they will accommodate fanatical non-smokers like myself, but try as they may they cannot remove the smell of cigarette smoke from the hotel ventilation and air conditioning systems. About a year ago I was staying at the ultra-modern Aria hotel, the newest and plushest hotel on the strip. Despite a fascinating array of technology including a computer-controlled tissue dispenser, I still woke up the next morning and smelt as if I had slept in an ashtray.

The only thing hotel rooms in Las Vegas have going for them are the Black Out Curtains. With triple digit temperatures and 24 hour a day neon displays blaring from every corner, these curtains are an absolute necessity.

I would like to install them in my home but ran into some serious interference from my wife, who suggested that money would be better served in the kid's college fund.

And so it has come to this.

Last week I purchased a sleeping mask, not unlike the one pictured above. Or the one you might remember worn by Desi Arnez in the old I Love Lucy show.

You can laugh all you want, but the fact is, these masks work.

By blocking out all the extraneous nighttime light, from my neighbor's flood lights or even a Full Moon, I have been sleeping like a bear. With less nocturnal visits to the bathroom and more vivid REM activity in the early morning hours. Just this morning there was an interesting, if not indecipherable, dream about a dolphin, Penelope Cruz and a giant carniverous adding machine.

And my wife, who is always concerned about saving money for college, is happy too. Thanks to the surprising effectiveness of the sleep mask, we're not spending half as much money on Maker's Mark.