Don't sleep on one of life's great pleasures, a simple nap

Perhaps the clearest evidence of maturity (in terms of longevity, not advanced emotional development) is the appreciation of naps.

We need naps during our first years, then we hate them. As teenagers and in our 20s, we take occasional naps, but rarely seek them and never tell others about how great they are.

Once we hit our 30s and 40s, naps become attractive, but they're elusive, particularly if there are kids around.

By our 50s, though? There are few things better than a good nap.

Naps are important. According to studies, at least one-third of Americans don't get enough sleep. Sometimes it's our work schedule. Sometimes it's kids. Sometimes it's a lack of discipline to recognize we need to go to bed earlier. Other times its sleep disorders. Sometimes it's laying awake, wondering when the Warriors are going to start playing defense.

So we take naps. One survey shows that 80% of us try to close our "sleep gap" with naps. Science has consistently shown that naps are good for us. Naps relieve stress. Naps increase our endurance. Naps improve our performance after we wake up.

The good news is that naps don't need to be long, which we already know. Most of us have fallen asleep only to wake up two hours later, groggy for the rest of the day and unable to fall asleep that night. That's not really a nap, that's too much sleep.

But naps that are 30 minutes to an hour? In the sweet spot? Afternoon naps that are early enough that they don't harm our evening weariness?

They're perfect.

My adoration of naps peaked in the past few years. On weekends when we're not doing anything, Mrs. Brad and I will have lunch and then relax. Maybe read for a while. Maybe turn on the TV to something slow-paced (sporting events with teams we don't really care about are a particular favorite). But as we prepare – and this is crucial – we never acknowledge we're going to nap. We know we're going to do it, but don't say anything.

Because that might jinx it.

Pretty soon, our eyes close and we drift off to blissful rest.

During the pandemic, while working from home, I made a ritual of the brief post-lunch nap. I'd eat, then go to my hammock (during warm days) or the couch (during the winter) and "read." After about 10 minutes, I'd close the book and drift off for 15 or 20 minutes. It was great, except for the time I woke up in a panic, thinking I had missed a scheduled 1 p.m. phone call. Fortunately, it was only 12:55 p.m.

Now, back in my office, weekday naps are a fond memory as I look forward to weekends.

But as we enter the shortest, coldest days of the year and are often stuck inside, it's time to realize we have an expanded opportunity to let our bodies do what they need.

Take naps. Get a 30-minute quick sleep.

Naps are one of life's simple pleasures.

Reach Brad Stanhope at bradstanhope@outlook.com.

Ranking Thanksgiving foods, from mashed potatoes to the best of the day

America's greatest meal happens this week: Thanksgiving dinner.

Whether you're commemorating the holiday alone, with friends, with families or otherwise, you're participating in a uniquely American ritual. There are very few things that remain largely unchanged from decades ago, but this is one: A big meal on a day devoted to expressing thankfulness, eaten following football games.

As we prepare for America's meal, it seems appropriate to rank Thanksgiving foods, since I rank everything else (household furniture, fruits, office supplies, Christmas songs, minor U.S. holidays, etc.).

Here are the top eight Thanksgiving foods, in reverse order (and yes, I realize this is a list of traditional foods. I'm not trying to insult the specialty food that your family consumes):

8. Mashed potatoes. Not this high on my personal list (partly because I'm a Type 1 diabetic and mashed potatoes are pure carbohydrates), but a favorite of Mrs. Brad's, which influences my list. Adding gravy helps, although gravy has such a wide range of possible outcomes, it's dicey.

7. Sweet potatoes/yams. They may be the same thing or different things, but I don't want to waste Google keystrokes to find out. Does anyone eat these other anytime but on Thanksgiving? Not at my house. Grocery stores probably carry them year-round, but they drop those 29-ounce cans on Nov. 1, because they're a Thanksgiving treat. Another favorite of Mrs. Brad. 

6. Rolls. Fifty years ago, rolls were a part of most regular dinner rotations, but now they seem to be food for special days only. Rolls – even generic white bread rolls – seem like the perfect counterpoint to other Thanksgiving food. An island of normality in a sea of uniqueness.

5. Cranberries/cranberry sauce. The perfect topping for turkey, but have you ever eaten cranberries by themselves? Not so great. Which makes the combination of cranberries and turkey even more remarkable.

4. Pre-meal snacks. An upset! You probably don't have this on your list, but most of us have rituals for Thanksgiving (for a majority of Americans, that means watching football. The Lions in the morning, the Cowboys in the afternoon.) Since Thanksgiving dinner usually happens in the mid-afternoon (if you're normal, like me), lunch is compromised. Which means snacks. Tostitos or lumpia or deviled eggs or whatever you eat. Whatever it is that builds a bridge from breakfast to the big Thanksgiving dinner, it's usually good.

3. Stuffing/dressing. These may be different things, but like yams/sweet potatoes, I didn't want to waste Google keystrokes to learn the difference. This might be the best-tasting Thanksgiving food. If I go for seconds (OK, when I go for seconds), I will always get stuffing. Or dressing. Whatever.

2. Pumpkin pie. The Scottie Pippen of Thanksgiving food (Michael Jordan is coming next). We all seem to like pumpkin pie, yet we rarely eat it other than on Thanksgiving, so is it possible that pumpkin pie is a victim of its own success? Is it so tied to Thanksgiving that it is otherwise overlooked? This selection includes whipped cream. They go together.

1. Turkey. The Michael Jordan of Thanksgiving food. Even vegans acknowledge this, because they'll digest some sort of mock turkey this week. They'll use the word turkey. Turkey isn't the greatest meat. It's not even the greatest fowl. But it's spectacular at Thanksgiving, which is the only time all year many of us eat a regular turkey. It's No. 1 on the list with reason.

Reach Brad Stanhope at bradstanhope@outlook.com.

Listen to Gen Z and surveys – emojis are a poor communication tool

I have unexpected allies in my war against emojis: Generation Z.

Not that members of Gen Z (generally defined as people born from 1997 to 2012) hate emojis, although some do. But Gen Z members realize that emojis – those little pictures that people use rather than writing, you know, words – often don't communicate what is intended. In other words, if you think you're being cool by sending an emoji (maybe a thumbs up, maybe a crying face) to a 20-year-old, you're wrong. They may be embarrassed by you.

I'm sorry. But I'm also glad.

Maybe you can return to using words to express yourself. After all, it's been several millennia since we communicated strictly with cave drawings. Let's not go back there, because I don't want to return to the outdoor plumbing of that era.

The dislike of emojis by young people is real. Recent surveys show that while Zoomers (what we cool people call Gen Z members) use emojis a lot, they think older people often misuse them or use cringe-worthy emojis (the worst, according to them: thumbs up and the heart).

It's not just them. According to a study by Loom, a workplace video messaging platform, 91% of workers have had emoji messages misinterpreted because they used an emoji that meant something different to the recipient than they intended. Which happens virtually every time I get an emoji in text messages, resulting in me acting very old. "Is that corn? An arm?" I shout at Mrs. Brad, who ignores me. "Why would someone send me that when I asked about their vacation?" Then I wonder why they don't use something more clear.

Like words.

I've ranted about this before. I understand why people use emojis, but consider it stealing someone else's image instead of words. Wouldn't it be better to tell someone "thanks," or "I understand" than to send them an emoji of a thumbs up? " (Me to Mrs. Brad: "Are they telling me to hitchhike? Is that what this means? Which way is the thumb pointing?")

Of course, there are other issues with emojis. Some can involve cultural misappropriation. Meanwhile, some people want more inclusion in emojis. In fact, the Unicode Consortium, which oversees emojis, will add 31 to the library next year, which is a lower number than in most recent years. However, it's just adding to the items that can poison using . . . words.

However, emojis can be entertaining.

One of my favorite emoji stories is likely based on an urban legend. I read once that the emoji people commonly use to represent prayer – two hands together – was created as a high-five emoji. So when someone posts on social media that their grandma is sick or that they were in a traffic accident and require surgery, I like to think that the hands emoji posted by their friend is really someone giving them a high five.

"Way to go! Great car wreck!"

Which would put the high-five/prayer emoji people in the 91% of us who have had communication misunderstood. They could have used words and avoided it, but who am I to say that? I'm just an older guy who yells at his phone when he gets text messages with pictures.

Perhaps we can learn from the studies. If how we communicate results in us being mocked or misunderstood, perhaps we should change how we communicate.

Let us pray that we'll do it better.

High five!

Reach Brad Stanhope at bradstanhope@outlook.com.

The miracle of pain relievers, best team nicknames and more

We take a lot of miracles for granted: Electricity. The internet. Running water. GPS. Morgan Freeman's voice.

But here's one that continues to amaze me every time I need it: How pain relievers can help anything.

Got a headache? Take a pill. It gets better. Got a sore knee? Take a pill. It gets better. Got arthritis? Take a pill, it gets better.

Those pills – Advil and Tylenol at my house – don't "cure" anything. But they make everything better. The most amazing thing to me (which can probably be explained by a scientist, who would insist it's not a miracle): How does the Advil pill I take know that my knee is sore rather than my back? Or how does my Tylenol pill know to take care of a headache and not a fever? How do those pills know what part of my body to help?

I'm sure there's a rational explanation, but I'd prefer to just accept it as what it appears to be. A miracle.

Those little pills are really, really smart and helpful.

On to the topics du jour . . .

• • •

Five best major sports team nicknames, based on coolness of the name and how well it fits with the city:

5. Philadelphia 76ers. The Sixers leaned in on the obvious history of Philadelphia and the Declaration of Independence. Their colors are red, white and blue. There's no subtlety and it's fantastic.

4. Miami Dolphins. The combination of the team name and colors (aqua, orange and blue) reeks of South Florida.

3. Toronto Maple Leafs. Their nickname reflects the entire country (although it should be Maple Leaves). That's pretty great.

2. Pittsburgh Steelers. Seems normal now because we've heard it forever (in the same way the old nickname of the Washington, D.C., team seemed normal through use). But Pittsburgh is the steel city. The logo is based on a U.S. Steel logo! It would be like the 49ers calling themselves the Googles and having a Google logo on their helmet.

1. Milwaukee Brewers. Milwaukee (along with St. Louis) is the beer capital of America and the Brewers is a perfect nickname. And what a logo: A combination of "M" and "B" that make up a baseball mitt and ball. The team name also lends itself to the nickname of "The Brew Crew" and sparked Bernie Brewer, one of the most iconic mascots in sports.

• • •

Daylight saving time ended today and now we enter 13 weeks of darkness.

But a reminder: Standard time (a misnomer, since it only lasts 18 of the 52 weeks of the year) ends March 12. So just 17 more Sundays like today.

• • •

A few weeks ago, I went to the doctor for my annual physical. They measured me and . . . they said I was 5 feet, 11 inches tall. I was 5-11!

I've been 5-10½ since high school, so this is big news. It may be that I kept on my shoes or that I said their measuring bar touched my head when it was really just touching my hair. It may be a mistake or perhaps they rounded up.

Or it may be that I'm growing again and am on pace to be 6 feet tall in two more years. If you think this is wrong, don't argue with me. Argue with math. And medicine.

I'm going to take an Advil and see if it knows I want to grow.

Reach Brad Stanhope at bradstanhope@outlook.com.