Keeping us awake at night

The beds come alive with the sound of…snoring.

No, not a Julie Andrews makeover, but a reference to the sound created by the melodic trio of nose, throat and ear.

It’s a sound that has intrigued me since postpubescence when my parents’ bedroom became a place of interest.

At first I imagined they were choking each other, until I learnt about snoring.

In later life, my in-laws and my Heidi carried on this loud and invasive tradition.

Evidently, although my accusers have been unable to prove it, my sinuses are not exempt from this tiresome activity, keeping the conscious audience from their beauty sleep.

There are reasons given for this invasive affliction.

One is called “tongue-based snoring”, when the tongue falls back into the throat at night, partially blocking the airway and causing that harsh sound when air tries to force its way through the blocked airway.

The other, “open mouth snoring”, is when your mouth falls open at night, impairing your nasal breathing and forcing air to go through your throat and over the tongue and soft palate.

But there are no conclusive reasons given why the threesome behave in this uncultured manner.

My mom had a theory. Every time my dad spent too much time tilting back the Coke bottle after dinner, the offending apertures joined forces, doing a full-on big band number.

One night, she swears, the duet churned out When the saints go marching in. With a wicked smile she added: “I just wish the saints would go off to sleep.”

My dad, however, believed snoring keeps you humble – even the queen snored.

My mom shot back with: “Ja, but she probably sang Rule Britannia; nothing humble about that.”

I have my own theory. Each time we overindulged in rare ribeye steak with cholesterol-soaked slap chips, the night shift band swung into action.

One night, I swear (à la my mom), the strains of Forever Young were poignantly rendered through Heidi’s apertures.

No matter how you look at it, snoring is here to stay.

So as a consequence I’m going to include I’m Dreaming of a White Christmas and Royal Hotel on the song sheet for the sake of the suffering insomniacs in bedrooms in close proximity.

At least keep them entertained.

Cliff Buchler.

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