The question: What have we had too much of, can't get enough of and know a few of? My apologies to Carnac the Magnificent. I know some of you are thinking "You gave the answer first...then, the question. That's a Jeopardy thing! Shouldn't you be apologizing to Alex Trebek?" Well, ever since Mr. Trebek shaved off his moustache, I just don't feel I really know him anymore. Also, he never returns the sample questions I submit. Like "Russet. Joel Nichols. New Coke." "What are a spud, a stud and a dud, Alex?" Now, the last time I referred to myself as a "stud" one of my brothers strapped me to his snow tires and drove around the block. To be honest, that question/answer combo is a variation of one Johnny Carson used in his Carnac routine. For those who don't remember, Carson would provide the appropriate question to the answer given by Ed McMahon. The answers were "hermetically sealed and kept in a mayonnaise jar on Funk and Wagnall's porch." For example, Carnac would hold the envelope to his turban and say "Sis. Boom. Bah." McMahon: "Sis. Boom. Bah." Carnac, upon opening the envelope: "Describe the sound made when a sheep explodes." Before Carson, Steve Allen had a character called The Question Man who did much the same thing. When Merv Griffin created Jeopardy, maybe he was remembering that, too. By the way, another reason I don't feel particularly charitable toward Mr. Trebek is that I was the president of the Art Fleming Fan Club and, when Mr. Fleming was unseated by Mr. Trebek it cut me deep. "He stabbed a man of great distinction in the back!" "Who is Alex 'Shiv' Trebek, Alex or Art?" (Okay, I don't know if that's how it happened but what am I supposed to do with all those Art Fleming t-shirts?)

I guess I'd better really explain the title of this blogging before I'm the subject of a new Jeopardy question: "He thought it was funny to poke fun at me and came to dearly regret it." "Who WAS Joel Nichols, Alex?"

First, the idiots: Saturday, February 9, out at Smiley's Golf Complex K-10 in Lenexa, Kansas, is the fifth annual Idiot's Open to benefit Kansas City Hospice. It gets started with a "Hit The Idiot" competition at 8:00 a.m. We do something similar every morning here at KMBC and I have the bruises to prove it. Then, we play golf. It will be sunny and 26 that morning...not bad. We've played in snow and ice and bitter cold, before. It is a lot of fun for a wonderful cause. Naturally, when they called it The Idiot's Open, they thought of Jim Flink and me. Mr. Flink has been the idiot-in-chief for the whole five years. I've got my ancient clubs ready and my Art Fleming Signature Edition Long Underwear ready to go.

Now: The Beatles. On this date, February 7, 1964, The Beatles landed in America. I have a hazy memory of it. At that stage of the game, it would have meant more to me if Captain Kangaroo had left America than anyone arriving here. Anyway, we listen to lots of Beatles around our house. We like the post-Beatles stuff, too. Including Ringo Starr's new cd called Liverpool 8. I've always liked Ringo. He seems like a funny guy...great drummer...doesn't take himself too seriously...very upfront about how great it was being a Beatle. Also, he was on Shining Time Station when our older kids were little and that's a plus.

Finally, the flakes. I came into work Tuesday evening, just to avoid any potential driving problems for our early showtime on Wednesday. Being election night, the newsroom was really buzzing. I got so into the excitement that I decided to caucus all by myself. Unfortunately, I couldn't reach a consensus with me and the meeting disbanded acrimoniously. I hope to be speaking to myself again at some point but, for now, the wounds are too fresh.

At the old studio, I would sometimes stay at the very nice hotel across the street on weather-related nights. It always felt kind of cool to check into a fancy place all by myself. "You've got a room for me? Nichols. Joel Nichols," I'd say, with an air of mystery. The desk clerk would sigh heavily, hand me the key and have a bellman load me onto the luggage cart.

As un-cool as I was checking in alone, it was even worse checking into a place with a bunch of little kids bouncing around. It's not easy to look like Cary Grant or George Clooney with a four-month old sending projectile vomit across the lobby and another kid jumping up and down asking to go to the potty. The first place we stayed with all the kids was the Lawrence Welk Resort in Branson. We have a photograph of the children standing next to a statue of Mr. Welk. At the time, we told them Mr. Welk was a former president of the United States...between Nixon and Carter. It was President Welk who intoned "Our long, national polka is over." Of course, this kind of misinformation may explain some of the notes we've received from the kids' teachers over the years.

Well, there is no hotel handy at the new studio so I hunkered down in the lobby. I had some trouble dozing off due to all the commotion. Finally, I had to ask Larry Moore to sing me one of his news lullabies, melody by Brahms:

Lullaby and good night
A disturbance you're making.
Fall asleep, you weatherman.
Big News maybe breaking.

Please stay out of our way
For we have things to do now
Try counting sheep or a goat
Maybe throw in a moo-cow.

With that, Mr. Moore sneaked out of the lobby, but, I was still awake. I just stared up at the giant ABC mobile over my head, watching Charles Gibson chase Diane Sawyer and the cast from Lost mingle with According To Jim. It wasn't long before I must have sailed away to Sleepy Town. ("This is an incredibly immature way for a man in his 40s to refer to slumber." "What is 'Sleepy Town,' Alex?")

My alarm went off around 12:45 a.m. and I sat in the lobby and ate my dry Cheerios. I've had dry Cheerios since I was a kid. We couldn't afford Alpha-Bits so I'd nibble the oaten circles into various shapes trying to make letters. The best I could do was something you'd see scribbled on a cave wall. Anyway, I still do that today which made it embarrassing when Kris Ketz walked in and saw me trying to spell "Joel Nichols Is Great" on the lobby coffee table, in Cheerios.

So, that's all I have about flakes, Beatles and idiots. I really need to write Alex Trebek a letter of apology, now. Maybe something special, in rhyme like Larry Moore's song. If I can just figure out a way to glue those Cheerios to KMBC stationery....