Withering Glance rests its weary head – on a contoured pillow

Rick Nelson and Claude Peck dispense unasked-for advice about clothing, etiquette, culture, relationships, grooming and more.

RN: You're not going to believe this, but I took your advice.

CP: Always a smart thing to do. Still, halt the presses.

RN: You'll be happy to learn that it involves three of your favorite subjects: technology, shopping and sleeping.

CP: Please tell me you have not gone with the adjustable bed. Not for another year or two, when your sciatica worsens.

RN: The healing chiropractic genius of Dr. Bob has kept me sciatica-free for years. No, I'm talking pillows. Specifically, the Miracle Pillow.

CP: Otherwise known as the poor man's CPAP machine. Those odd-shaped dreamland devices rock.

CP: I picked one up cheap at Ikea, so it isn't memory foam, but it guides the average side sleeper toward contentment better than a shrink/masseur combo.

RN: I bought mine at Macy's, on a buy-one-get-one-free deal, so I have a backup waiting in the wings, in case my weighty, Frankenstein-like skull wears the first one out. I also was able to actually redeem one of those 20-percent-off coupons that Macy's seems to drop into my snail-mail box on a daily basis, so it was practically free. It's clearly the best purchase I've ever made at the Store Formerly Known as Dayton's.

CP: My sister brings hers everywhere. I resisted for a long time, on account of they are a bit off the cool-design radar, non?

RN: They do broadcast a certain retirement-community vibe. Our friend Mark refuses to allow them to blight his carefully curated midcentury-modern residence.

CP: Perhaps what's needed are some new national TV ads: "This is Pharrell Williams, and I'm always happier when I sleep on a firm, contoured surface."

CP: Has this caused the spouse to let you get off that cot on the three-season porch and return to the heated bedroom? Hope so.

RN: It's weird. Not only am I falling asleep faster, I'm also dozing deeply, and restfully. Better than I have in years. Can I really attribute this to a Martha Stewart-made product from the bed-and-bath department?

CP: Martha does have that special ability, with her soothing voice and her hair pulled back behind one ear, to ease one into deep repose.

RN: On the first night, I felt sure I was going to need an Ambien in order to adjust to the odd feeling of my neck and noggin resting on the equivalent of a pillowcase-covered brick.

CP: I still get that sensation. But by the time I am ready to really fret over it, I'm in Stage 4 slumber.