Tossin' and Turnin'

Tuesday, August 25, 2008
I heard that old 1961 Bobby Lewis song on the radio, “Tossin' and Turnin”, while driving home tonight. I could just picture the sway of background singers, their beaufont hairdos stiff with spray and bobby pins. It is such a peculiar song – about being up all night, obsessing about this "unnamed" person, raiding the refrigerator, and hearing the milkman drop off the pre-dawn dairy. The milkman for god’s sake. That definitely dates it.

It made me consider the trademarks of that time – fifty years ago when men reached for pocket combs and schoolgirls sipped sarsaparillas on corner drug store stools. I suppose it wasn’t all simplistic – people worked hard and strove to appear satisfied at least for society’s sake. I’m sure women were being beaten in broom closets as Jimmy Jr. watched I Love Lucy after his pot roast dinner. I’m certain housewives ran off with their tennis instructors and Mr. Cleaver was banging his secretary. But, everything was impeccably folded, ironed and pressed and there were a lot of quaint goodbye pecks between man and wife on the way out the door in the morning.

I am suddenly grateful I am not a woman in the 1950’s with twenty-three white apron smocks, scrubbing diapers and crying into my pillow while the children are napping, secretly aware that my husband is a chronic adulterer. There would be no divorce. It would be too much of a stigma. I would be ostracized in the community. My kids would be treated as lepers and the taboo would stamp our house like pink paint. I would befriend silence.

Today is the anniversary of the women’s right to vote. Today, I listened to Senator Hillary Clinton strive to unite the Democratic Party at the convention in Colorado. Today any woman, if she is brave enough and empowered enough, can stand up and say, “Screw you.” And her neighbor will not think less of her. Even if she paints her own house pink.

I find myself grinning when Lewis’ ridiculous, redundant chorus circles back again. “I was a’ turnin' and tossing. Tossing and turnin'. A’ tossing and turnin' all night!” I realize I have never heard this song with him. There are probably not many out there after six years and a backlog of road trips– but this is definitely one. Waves of intuition slip over me – comforting, like watching twilight roll in on a back porch.

I feel as though I will sleep well tonight. And certainly, I know, there won’t be any milk deliveries in the morning.