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Having just woken up from nodding off while watching a Saturday Night Live (SNL) recording, it strikes me how I’m becoming our dad (Herm) more and more. It’s not a syndrome that only applied to him, as I see people falling asleep in many venues. Still, because he kind of perfected and honed the ability to knock off some quick zzzzz’s, there’s a term I apply to it.
 
Based on his golf game, which was quite bad, when he hit a bad shot, our family joke became that you “Hermed” the shot when you hit a bad one. Made sense. Now that I find myself falling asleep at times I wish I could stay awake, I find myself “Herming” live theater and “Herming” movies.
 
Over the years, Herming in front of the television set when sports were on over the weekend became a mandatory battery recharge time. I look forward to those moments. Settle into the chair. Pull some blankets up to my nose. Nestle in. Turn the sound down low. Listen to the monotonous voice of the announcer. Begin to snooze.
 
Because it is planned, this Herm nap lasts longer than the one that hits you unexpectedly. Sometimes it gets up to 45 minutes or an hour. Sometimes longer if it’s been a rough week and your body needs to build up energy for the week to come. The best are when you get intense dreams going and you swim out of that, trying to wake yourself up, only to succumb two or three more times to the dream, before finally waking like you’d been drunk for the afternoon.
 
Short cat naps are okay. They keep you mentally sharp. It’s when they start sneaking up on you that you’re Herming it.
 
A few months back, my wife and I went to a live theater show. I wanted to stay engaged. The show was pretty good. But weights must have been attached to my eyelids because I began Herming it about halfway through and couldn’t fight my way out of it. Sometimes you just give up.
 
The worst is if you start to snore. I’ve seen this happen in work situations, and pray it will never happen to me. I remember a good friend of mine describing taking the bus from Milwaukee to Madison many years ago and he slowly passed out, only to wake up when he found he’d snorted, as he was leading his way into snoring. He’d didn’t get any sleep after that.
 
Snoring occurs when you’re really out for the nap. That’s the full Herm. You wake up with the dry mouth and have to smack your lips repeatedly to get enough moisture in your mouth to be able to speak.

Most of us find ourselves picking up traits of our parents as we age. I find myself thinking of my dad frequently, as I fight to stay awake during the symphony or the previews at the movie theater.  I used to wonder why he fell asleep at those times. Now I get it.
 
We have pictures of our dad asleep in odd poses where you wouldn’t expect someone to nod off. They’re pretty funny. I guess I’ll have to prepare myself for photos of myself like that years from so the next generation can look back with appreciation at the ability to Herm a nap.

​When your opponent starts with the word “omasa” on the very first play in the app, “Words With Friends,” you know it’s time to resign immediately. This happened to me last week. Instead of resigning, I labored on, getting demolished by the usual 200+ points that is my fate against this titan of the game.
 
For those unfamiliar with “Words,” I thought for a long-time it was an electronic version of Scrabble. It’s not.

I’m good at Scrabble, typically coming out on the winning end most times I play, depending on the opponent and how many people are playing. I feel comfortable, know how to effectively hit the Double Word and Triple Word scores and put high-count letters on Triple Letter and Double Letter scores.
 
That’s not the case with “Words With Friends.” Instead, the app is designed to box you in, make you play three 2-letter words to make points like qi, id and da. Fit them appropriately together and you pull off 27 points. There’s no joy in this. You tinker around, arranging the letters over and over until finally you give up and submit to the software program.
 
That’s the pain of it. Rather than rummaging in the bag for tiles and placing them in your tile holder to make something that closely resembles a word, when you play in “Words,” what you get back is what the software program chooses to send you based on making the game so difficult that a Word Jumble champion would stumble repeatedly.
 
“What can I do with this k, l, e, e, e, w, m, t? Uh, make ‘meet?’ Sure, that gets you seven points.” Then my opponent figures out some 6-letter response with major consonants, hitting two of the Triple Words scores and gets back at me with 97 points.

After playing the m, e, e, and t, the torture technology sends me an a, u, o and s. Yipppeee, now I can dominate.
 
It took me awhile to figure out why I lost by so many times. My opponent is a star, no question. She knows how the technology operates and uses it to her advantage. She’s smart and savvy, taking what is given and makes the most of it.

I continue like a dinosaur, hoping to make big words, utilizing all my letters, so I feel like I’ve created something. Instead the program beats down your word intuition and knowledge.

There is a saving grace, which I guess is why I continue to play and punish myself. Maybe “punish” is the wrong word, cuz I keep thinking I’ll get some letters that allow me to bust loose and make something wonderful, like “cylinder” feeding into the open “r” on the screen. Or “psychopath,” putting “psycho” onto the “path” already played on the board and hitting the Triple Letter with the “y.”

Sigh. But it’s not happening. I keep hoping and continue to get beaten down by whoever put together the coding to keep most humans baffled and wondering why it’s so hard to put four e’s and two u’s into one word with a “q.”

Wait, I got it. That’s “queue.”
 
Seriously, it happened a few months back. There was a slight lifting of my spirits, then I drew two more “e’s,” a “k,” and a “z.” I created a new curse word with that.

​A man was staggering home drunk in the early hours of the morning when he was stopped by a police officer. 

“What are you doing out at this time of night?” asked the officer.

“I’m going to a lecture,” said the drunk. 

“And who’s going to be giving a lecture at this hour?”

“My wife.”

(EDITOR’S NOTE: This is the second in a two-part series on the distortion of television news.)
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​Last week we covered truth and outright fiction when it comes to reporting news. There are multiple ways news gets distorted. This week we explore how television news slams you with adjectives to hype you up on a story. If you listen closely, you’ll learn to shrug your shoulders and yawn instead of popping a blood vessel in your forehead about something that’s either just not that important or something you can’t remotely do something about. Go get a beer instead.
 
I started noticing the adjective thing 5-6 years ago. My wife and I rarely watch television news, but occasionally we go through a bout of turning it on because of a cutting edge issue. It was during one of those times that I started catching the phrases when the announcers talked about the upcoming stories.

“Stay with us for our story on a horrific tree limb falling on the road.”
 
“Don’t go away. Our next story will alarm you on the growing threat of dental floss.”
 
“If you were terrified to go outside in the morning before, you’ll be even more petrified after you watch our next clip on searing dangers of watching the sun rise.”
 
And so on. Witness the adjectives: horrific; alarm; growing threat; terrified; petrified; searing dangers.
 
What does all this mean? The writers, producers, editors and newscasters want your attention. They want to activate your emotions, get you excited so you stay tuned and come back the next day because you’re so agitated you have to find out what’s going on. And then you get…..
 
“Following up on yesterday’s story, an outrageous incident occurred as…..”
 
“We have to warn you about this next segment which comes on the heels of yesterday’s stupendous announcement. What you are about to see is extremely disturbing.”
 
“And this just in on our segment yesterday regarding the growing menace of nose hair overpopulation.”
 
Every time you are led by highly charged words, the goal is to push you in a direction. Perhaps that’s why it seems so many people today are acting out, going nuts at sporting events, spewing language designed to hurt others and push them into a corner.

We hear these types of directives at an increasing frequency, and they’re amplified beyond the TV news, as they make their way onto social media channels where smaller tribal units choose to demonize others. Make someone else look bad is their motto. Attack in a mean-spirited way. Do anything possible to draw attention.
 
I’m way more impressed with a thoughtful discussion on a tough issue that outlines what can be done and what the challenges are. Lay the information out there. Help people understand.
 
This past weekend I was in Fort Wayne, Indiana, for the NCAA Division III men’s basketball tournament. While working out, two mornings I watched the ABC affiliate news. How refreshing!! They gave several minutes to a local youth entrepreneur (a regular feature). They gave the same-length coverage to a local business demonstrating a unique way they approach customers (another regular feature).
 
Each segment was several minutes long and allowed people to talk in-depth. What a novel approach – actually giving some additional time to let the viewer get a broader picture and put things in context. If I go back next year, I know which news station I’m watching.

A couple of weeks ago, I sat in on a TV interview with my boss. Over the years, I’ve set up many of these, so I knew what was about to happen.
 
Good questions would get asked. Lengthy, thoughtful responses would follow. There’d be an excellent dialogue and fascinating subject matter explored.

Would most of the responses make it on the news that night? Nope.
 
For those who aren’t journalists or involved with television or the process of making news, you might not know how little of reality you see of an incident. Or you may understand this in theory, but not really how it’s executed and what it means to your snippet of reality you get exposed to when the story runs on the evening broadcast.
 
During the interview above, our president spoke for 15 minutes or so. He dialed into 5-6 critical areas based on the subject matter. As a biased observer, I would say he had 5-8 powerful quotable quotes that were unique and newsworthy. They should have made it to the screen. Did they? No.
 
What aired that night was the reporter framing the issues. He did a good job. He asked the right questions. Our boss’s answers followed, and yes, they were good, but not lengthy.

Question was asked. Two-second answer. Another question asked. Two-second answer. Another question asked. A seven-second answer. End of story.
 
Adding up the interviewer’s time asking questions and establishing the storyline, combined with responses, it was about a 30-second segment. That’s LONG by TV news standards.

We actually got more face time than occurs in most stories. But did our president’s quotable quotes make the air? One did. The rest sit on the editing floor, as the cliché goes, never seeing the light of day.

That means you, the consumer of the news, doesn’t see or hear the fuller story. You’re left with a snippet of reality, when a fuller explanation was given.

Multiply this by the amount of stories you watch on the television news, and you have a slight understanding of how frequently you are misled, and how misinformed most TV news watchers are. You know a sliver about the reality of an incident, situation or process. We shouldn’t pretend otherwise.
Why write about this? To me, it’s important for citizens to recognize what they don’t know and remember that even the experts, when they are quoted, are not given a full voice to air in-depth explanations. Instead, they are cut short, and viewers are cut even shorter. We are left behind in terms of getting to the bottom of an issue or coming to an informed understanding.
 
In many ways, this is the “Snapshotization” of what’s going on in the word. We’re getting snapshots, not the full text. We’re reading 280 characters, not a 1,500-2,000-word article. We’re forming judgments with WAY LESS than full information.

We all have to excerpt to survive mentally. We can’t know everything about every issue. But we should recognize what we don’t know and strive to find out more before passing judgment on something that has occurred in the world.
 
Recognizing what we don’t know is a big sign of maturity. Hopefully more and more people keep growing in this way and seek to see and hear the bigger picture.
 
(Editor’s note: Stay tuned for Part II of this story next week.)
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​We all reach a certain stage of life where you don’t need anything for your birthday or Christmas. Part of the reason we give socks and sweaters to older people is because we can’t think up something useful or fun to give them.
 
“I’m going to get grandpa Harvey that flashing electric belt for Christmas mom. It will make him laugh,” the 18-year-old grandson relates to his mother.
 
Your drawers fill up with colorful underwear over the years, tee shirts from the college you attended and lounge pants with the logo of your favorite sports team. All because your needs have been filled and no one can come up with a creative idea that’s new for a present.
 
That’s the challenge. Two Christmas’s ago, I got a gift that seemed to be a joke, but has turned out to be one of the most useful presents ever received: ice shoe spikes.

These are removable spikes designed to be worn in icy winter conditions. I thought to myself when I unwrapped the gift, “Uh, yeah, sure, like I’m ever going to wear these.” And, of course, I was wrong to act ironic. The spikes have probably saved me from a hospital visit 3-4 times over the past two years.
 
Our driveway is long and gravelled. After snow blowing/plowing, it still retains a slight coating of snow. In addition to its length, our driveway is surrounded by trees, so there is no direct sunlight to thaw leftover snow when the temps rise above 32 degrees.

As a result, packed snow and ice melt that refreezes stay in place for LONG periods of time, and walking on this is treacherous. Four days a week, I take our two dogs the length of the driveway off leash so they can run as I pick up our newspaper. Most of the year, that walk is relaxing, safe and uneventful.

Not this time of year. Instead, it’s slippery, dangerous and capable of wrenching your back or causing a head or hip injury if you fall. Wiping out is a real concern.

Enter that Christmas gift. The ice shoe spikes are made of rubber and go over your shoes like galoshes. Stretch them out and pull them on. You’re good to go. The closest analogy is having golf spikes on. They dig into the turf.
 
This allows you to much more safely navigate the terrain when you see a sheet of ice facing you in the morning. Crunching along, you can move much more closely to the pace you achieve during the summer, not worrying about taking a tumble. You may even hum, sing or whistle a tune because you’re more relaxed.
 
The ice shoe spikes are brilliant in design, and whoever came up with the idea should be enshrined in the Smart Product Hall of Fame.  Members must come up with something that is actually useful in world, performing a function that improves the life of someone.
 
I’d like to pat the back of the person who invented these and once again thank the member of my family (I’m pretty sure it’s my wife) who bought them for me. I guess she wants me around awhile longer.