I apologize for the previous blog's lunacy. I fully intended to answer a few of the questions that get asked by kind viewers and, instead, I digressed so dramatically, that I never got around to the actual inquiries. What happened is, I started out using the internet abbreviation FAQ which got me thinking about all the things those letters could stand for besides "Frequently Asked Questions." By the time I was done, I was feeling "Frightened And Quivering!" No! Stop! Just answer the questions, you Fumbling Addle-minded Quidnunc!

Okay. Here goes. These are questions that friendly folks often ask when I'm out and about...like at the American Royal Parade a couple weeks back or at the Jared Coones Pumpkin Run and Walk Saturday morning in Olathe. (Thanks to the over 2100 walkers and runners. It is one of the great family things to do for a host of wonderful causes, all in the memory of a terrific boy and in honor of his magnificent family!) Sometimes those asking the questions will almost apologize for wondering about such "superficial" things, as one lady put it. But, since these are questions I can actually answer, as opposed to weather questions, I find them vitally important and welcome.

What time do you get up in the morning for work?

As I look back over these bits of bloggerania, I notice that many of them have to do with sleep. That maybe because I don't get a whole lot of that stuff. I try to be in bed at or before 8:30 p.m. Some nights are later than that and a few are earlier. I get up at 2:00 a.m. I find that, if I wanted to do a decent job, I'd need more sleep. As it stands now, with around five hours of sleep or less, I can sometimes stretch myself to near-mediocrity on good days. By the way, I recently read that if you sleep five hours from midnight to 5:00 a.m. it is healthier and more restful than getting those five hours starting around 8 or 9. There appears to be something in the body clock that makes it better to be asleep in those 1-4 am hours. On my own personal body clock, Mickey is missing his left hand and the ticking sounds like two dim-witted woodpeckers vacationing in the Petrified Forest.

Do you color your hair?

No. My children have done that for me.

Who picks out what you will wear on TV?

Many years ago, the first news director I worked for, told me that on-air folks should dress like professionals...nothing flashy. For awhile I tried to flaunt that convention. Today, "convention-flaunting" happens so often it is just about the norm which means, to be a rebel, you have to find a way to de-flaunt. I tried that once and had to make several visits to a chiropractor. Anyway, in my first couple years of broadcasting, I had two sportcoats that were not considered appropriate. A pink one that gave me the look of a puffy salmon trying to swim upstream in search of the nearest donut shop and a sort of turquoise blue one that would've made Crockett and Tubbs run screaming back to Miami. I thought they looked kind of hip and cool. Most viewers reported that their cats and small dogs would go around in circles and require sedation when I wore them. Frankly, looking back, those two jackets did make me look like a TeleTubby on steroids or the end of the broadcast day in some mythical land of unicorns and harpsichords. When I moved to Kansas City I got rid of those Easter Egg jackets and went with dark suits, white shirts and, mostly unobtrusive ties.

Then, there was a minor revolution in what was acceptable for TV pinheads to wear. Some folks started to wear open collars instead of ties...some went without jackets...some went the sweater-vest route. We had one extremely talented sports guy that even wore a Nehru jacket kind of outfit. The news director had to draw the line at the large, clunky gold chain and Beatles haircut, however. Another newsman would wear this very yellow...almost golden-rod...sportcoat. Often, when out on a story people would come up and ask him if he could show them ranch-homes with stucco exterior...and, just what would the interest rate be on a 30-year mortgage?

I tried to be cool by wearing a mock turtleneck one time. The turtleneck may have been mock but my multiple chins were real. It didn't make me come out of my shell. Another time, I wore a sweater vest and the anchors teased me about looking pompous and officious. Well, once I looked up those words, I cried...being the sensitive soul, I am. Even during severe weather, when some consultants urge folks to look a little disheveled and "on-the-job," I feel underdressed in short-sleeves. This may go back to my youth when I refused to wear blue jeans because I thought they seemed too informal. In fact, I didn't own a pair of jeans until I was out of college. This maybe because the worst thing my mother could call you was a "ragamuffin." It meant you looked a little tattered and unkempt. Now, with ripped clothing and baggy pants being "in," it seems a little bit like living in clown alley at the circus. Emmett Kelly wouldn't get a second look. (Thank you for sitting still for my "old coot" ranting and raving. One more thing "You kids get offa my lawn!")

Does TV really make you look heavier?

Yes. I've decided it adds about thirty pounds and 25 years. When I moved to Kansas City sometime in the last century, I was thin. When I see pictures from those early days, I notice that much of my weight is hair. Then, a couple things happened. My wife and I started having kids and everytime my wife was pregnant, I would gain about 400 pounds. Around the same time, my metabolism changed. Among my brothers, two can stay slender with little or no trouble. I believe they have sold their souls to the devil...or Jenny Craig. My other brother and I, hit 30 and everything we had ever eaten in the previous three decades turned to fat.

What do your kids think of the fact that you're on TV?

They are pretty sure that the generally pleasant person on the screen is not the same one who seems so surly at home. When our oldest son, now 17, was little, we were at a fundraiser in DeKalb, Missouri. I was on the stage doing something silly while my wife and two boys were in the audience. At one point, a woman leaned over to three-year-old Alex and said "That's your daddy up there, isn't it?" "No, " Alex replied seriously, "That's Joel Nichols."

I'd better leave the questions at that, for now. If you have any, please send them to me at jnichols@hearst.com. For now, I am feeling Fatigued And Querulous.