Falling asleep on the job

Poststructural Pub
1

My SO says … no, it’s not what you’re thinking :wink: … that I fell asleep while playing last night. (Playing. Fiddle. Right? Sheesh!)

Anny-hoo …

I’ve had yet another full-on, extremely tiring, extremely stressful working week. I’ve been shouted at and bawled out for something over which I have no control and in fact was perpetrated by someone who’s been there longer than me and, whilst being my inferior in rank, is paid more than me, and in any case the mistake was made before I arrived. Plus long hours, long miles driving and a row with a collegaue and good friend. Oh, and fitting in gigs for Cheltenham race week.

And, last night, a Friday night, the end of the week, I had yet another gig. I thought it went really well, I’m delighted to say, and an unexpected bonus was being joined by Pat Barcoe, a fantastic 2-row melodeon player whom I’d only just met - he was there in the audience, and my guitarist recognised him so I asked him if he had his box with him, and dragged him into a few sets with us. It was brilliant. Lovely stuff, and if you know Pat, tell him how much I appreciated playing with him.

Later in the evening, we were getting to the end of our stint, around 11:15pm, and we were playing one of our old standard sets (just me and my guitarist - Pat had left us by then). And, according to my SO, I fell asleep while playing, standing up, in this hectic pub gig. The tune was Miss McLeod’s, and I didn’t stop playing. But she says I distinctly slumped and then jerked back upright again about half a minute later.

Interestingly, this isn’t the first time this has happened to me, and it doesn’t seem to stop me playing.

I’m just curious - does this happen to other people as well? Or is it just me?

2

“I’m just curious - does this happen to other people as well? Or is it just me?”

I’ll let you know tomorrow. Our band Shenanigans has a 2.5 hr gig this morning/afternoon, then another 2hr one this evening…

3

Yeah. I’m doing something similar today. Good luck with yours, Paul. :slight_smile:

4

Only when I’m driving?

5

Only when I’m at work.

6

Never while performing in public, but often times when doing other things. Driving is on that list and really dangerous. My nephew’s parked car was totalled by a driver that likely nodded off and smashed into it.

I may be straying over, but if incidents pile up, it might be a sign of something that needs attention. Another relative was doing that almost every day at school, and was eventually diagnosed with sleep apnea. The CPAP mask machine for sleeping helped that one stay awake during the day.

7

Oh, I think in my case, it’s just an understandable reaction to being dog-tired.

But thanks for your concern. :slight_smile:

8

That happens to me, too, Ben. Never on a job, that I can remember. But certainly while playing at home for myself when very, very tired. Your brain drops below the sleep threshold - it feels like a very sudden slide into trance-like oblivion. But you know your instrument so well that the rest of you keeps going. At your level of playing, the mechanics of it all are not fully conscious anyway, even when you’re wide awake. So you have a large autonomic reserve to draw on. And the residual awareness that you’re playing somehow keeps your muscles from relaxing into sleep atonia so you don’t, like, drop the bow or fall on your face (which would be very entertaining, though). It must be a bit like hypnosis. And the din of pub noise probably contributes to it.

I once went for a haircut, just a trim of some sort. With my glasses off I can’t really see a thing in the big mirror, so I usually just half close my eyes and relax. Well, the barber was doing his thing - snip snip, chat chat - when suddenly he stopped talking, and the rate of snip snip started downward until it reached zero. I figured he was studying my head with great intensity, trying to determine the perfect next cut. But after a minute or so it began to seem odd. So I put my glasses back on, and in the mirror I see the guy standing behind me, comb and scissors poised in mid-air - and fast asleep.

I honestly wasn’t sure what to do. So I just sat there, it must have been at least 5 minutes. Then suddenly: snip snip again. And he goes on snipping and chatting as if nothing had happened. I think he had no idea how long he was out, and figured if it was only a few seconds I wouldn’t have noticed. The rest was perfectly routine.

In retrospect, I’m just glad that the snip snip wasn’t completely autonomic for him. Otherwise I might have ended up with the “Van Gogh cut”.

9

Only ever blacked out when I was walking, and kept on walking, and realised I wasn’t conscious for the intervening period.
I have had some visual-field migraines, though - without the headaches, I’m happy to say - but the last one happened during a music practice. The stave seemed to bring on the zig-zaggy lines. So I put the sheet music away and played penny-whistle by ear, instead of guitar from the dots. I’ve been known to sing in my sleep. Not sure that counts as music, though. Actually, it’s the ability to play while drunk that I envy…

10

I’ve had the falling-asleep-while-continuing-to-play thing too.

Apparently there was a case from WW1 when a soldier was court martialled for falling asleep on sentry duty. He was supposed to be on watch on the front line, and there was sniper fire and shrapnel bursts all around him, as well as imminent danger of the enemy popping out of their trenches for a bayonet charge. His explanation was that he was suddenly overcome by an overwhelming sensation of boredom.

11

I don’t know about falling asleep, but there are times I tend to “zone out” when playing. In fact, there are certain songs that if I think about playing them, I can’t play them. I need to go more on auto-pilot. And they tend to be songs that are more intricate, or have special meaning to me. As soon as I think about the song, I loose where the heck I am in it.

12

No, my muscle memory isn’t good enough. I would often nod off while taking notes in classes though, then wake up to see that I’d actually written legible notes which had nothing to do with genetics, or pharmacology or what have you.