Interpreting lives from a refrigerator door

Perhaps there's nothing that better describes an American's life than our refrigerator doors. Even if the items don't fully explain us, the length of time they remain does.

I guess.

Although there was good reason that the 2007 doctor appointment card remained. Really.

Recently, Mrs. Brad cleaned off our refrigerator door, removing photos and magnets and pieces of paper taped to the gorgeous white door (I wish we had an avocado- or mustard-colored fridge, like we did back in the day, but you know, progress . . . .)

Anyway, in the spirit of self-revelation, here are some of the items that had taken up semi-permanent residence on the fridge at Casa de Stanhope:

Three magnets for the same appliance repair shop. The refrigerator has avoided problems, but our washer? Dishwasher? Dryer? Rarely has a year gone by without needing some sort or repair. Apparently I repeatedly thought "we should keep this number," without realizing it was already there.

Photos of a bunch of kids. Ours. Our friends'. Several of a boy from Ghana who we sponsored for several years through WorldVision. The most intriguing thing was that we had far more photos of Awudu (the Ghanaian boy) than we did of either of our sons. Because WorldVision sends photos annually and we don't print photos that often.

Death notices of dear friends. This is something that I doubt we had on our fridge in our 20s. And something I fear will increase as we get older.

Magnets from local Chinese food restaurants. Because you never know when you need to order pot stickers.

A list of meals that we prepare. This was very helpful when we meal-planned. Rather than only being able to think of the same five meals every week, we had a list. So we picked the same five items each week off the list.

Several magnets of church campaigns. They were really good reminders about the "40 Days of Prayer" and "40 Days of Community." Until they became part of the background and remained on the fridge for years. Maybe we need one for "40 Years of Campaigns."

"Save the date" magnets for the 2009 and 2010 annual meetings for the company where Mrs. Brad used to work. Because, you know, we needed to save the dates. Years ago.

A Barack Obama for president magnet from 2008. (Note: That item alone will prompt the most comments on this column.)

Had we not cleaned the outside of the fridge (and the inside could conceivably contain some items of equal vintage – after all, when my sisters helped clean out my parents' fridge recently, they found hidden in the back some medicine with an expiration date in the 1980s!), you wonder what a future archaeologist would have concluded about us when she found the fridge during an excavation.

Likely that we were Christians who liked Chinese food when we weren't having spaghetti, tacos, chicken fettuccine or pizza; who owned failing appliances; who knew a lot of kids and who supported Barack Obama in 2008.

But mostly this: That we were obsessive magnet collectors.

I swear it's not true. To prove it, we only kept three magnets as we start the next generation of refrigerator cover.

One of them is about the president. Let the comments begin!

Brad Stanhope is a former Daily Republic editor. Reach him at bradstanhope@hotmail.com.

Sneak preview of genre-bending novel

Today I debut the first chapter of my proposed new novel, which combines several popular genres in an attempt to capture a huge audience and make me rich and famous.

And to help the world, of course.

As a reader of the Daily Republic, you benefit by seeing my first draft. It follows.

• • •

CHAPTER ONE

Amanda knew it was dangerous, but she wanted to be with Jedediah.

"Oh my gosh, this is so exciting!" she shouted as he put the horses in the harnesses. Jedediah nodded back, stroking his long beard.

This wasn't how Amanda planned it. When she told her parents she was going to the homecoming football game for Central High, she meant it.

Of course, the fact that a massive war a few years ago killed much of the world's population and wiped out most technology meant that she couldn't call home. Mobile phones still existed, but there weren't any affordable plans.

Amanda fully intended to go to the football game until she saw Jedediah, silently walking down Main Street with two horses following.

"Are these your horses?" she asked Jedediah.

He nodded.

"They're so cute. They remind me of my stuffed ponies at home."

Jedediah nodded again, then started harnessing the horses. His spirit double was next to him, although Amanda couldn't see it because she was unable to see spirits. Yet. (Spoiler alert!)

Jedediah didn't say anything about her stuffed ponies or the spirit double. Maybe because he didn't know what she meant about the stuffed ponies or maybe because he was busy harnessing the horses. Or because he was Amish.

Anyway, it suddenly, shockingly became dark. Darker than the darkest night. Darker than really dark pants or a dark shirt. Darker than an olive – the black kind, not the green kind with that red pimento in it. And despite the fact that it was still in the middle of the afternoon.

Jedediah was still harnessing the horses – which seemed weird because it was dark and because he was an Amish guy who probably harnessed horses often and should be pretty good at it.

Amanda heard sounds: Rustling leaves. Footsteps. The squeak of a basketball shoe on a gym floor. Someone doing a Jackie Mason impersonation. Yodeling. An AM radio station playing "Gypsies, Tramps and Thieves." A Styrofoam ice chest squeaking in the back of your grandma's station wagon.

"Jeremiah? Do you hear that?" Amanda said.

He didn't answer, because his name was Jedediah, not Jeremiah. But he knew she was talking to him, so he nodded.

Jedediah particularly heard the Jackie Mason impersonation, which reminded him of "Chicken Soup," Mason's 1989 TV series that lasted only 12 episodes. Jedediah and his family had watched it on their wood-powered TV.

The sounds got louder and Amanda moved closer to Jedediah.

She was so close that she could smell his Amish cologne: Eau de Rural Pennsylvania.

Suddenly Amanda realized he was holding her. Or someone was. She presumed it was Jedediah, but it was so dark she couldn't tell.

For the second time in 20 paragraphs, Amanda knew it was dangerous, but she wanted to be with Jedediah. Then . . .

Someone bit her neck and Amanda began to lose her sense of place. And her sense of time. She also lost her mobile phone, but that didn't matter much since as we established earlier that there were few affordable plans.

As the post-apocalyptic world spun, Amanda saw her mistakes. Her past. She saw Jedediah's spirit double, which was trying to act casual although it clearly knew she was watching. She also saw Bigfoot.

Amanda realized Jedediah wasn't just Amish. He was a vampire! A post-apocalyptic, Amish vampire character in a best-selling novel!

She had no idea that her adventure was just beginning . . .

• • •

There you have it. The start of a groundbreaking novel that combines all the hottest genres. I just need to add a little romance-novel spice, I think. Maybe Jedediah should be shirtless.

Brad Stanhope is a former Daily Republic editor. Reach him at bradstanhope@hotmail.com.

Connection between stress, illness makes me anxious

Did you know that stress can lead to cancer?

Stress also leads to heart disease. And asthma. Stress can bring on obesity and diabetes. Headaches, anxiety and depression are often triggered by stress.

Did you know that stress can make you age prematurely? How about the growing possibility that stress contributes to Alzheimer's disease?

We've long known that gastrointestinal disorders – from ulcers to much worse – can be caused by stress.

Doesn't that make you uneasy? Nearly everything that makes us ill can cite stress as a contributing factor! Stress may be our biggest enemy.

There likely have been studies that show a link between stress and hiccups, stress and eye twitches, stress and arthritis. I didn't feel like doing the research because it would likely make me anxious, make my knuckles hurt and make it more likely that my left eye would start twitching.

Dang! It started anyway!

If we could eliminate stress, would we end illness? Based on the studies, that seems true. Maybe it should be the target of a federal health initiative.

Except . . .

I'm calling baloney.

Not that there's no connection between stress and any illness – we've all been around people who seemed forever ill and forever fretting about it, making them more ill.

But does stress cause all the illnesses for which it's blamed? I doubt it.

The main reason is the vague nature of stress.

What makes you really stressed out might not bug me at all. Or vice-versa.

Have you ever been around someone whose life is a mess, but they're not agitated? What about the person who walks into a room telling a dramatic story and halfway through, you realize they're talking about driving to work? But they're stressed out!

Are they more likely to be sick? Well, we know if they are, they're sure more likely to talk about it.

Here's my theory: Medical professionals who ask patients if they've had stress lately always get a "yes."

Who wants to be the person who says "No. My life is great and easy."?

That makes you seem soft.

Even if things are going well, there's a certain cultural pressure to claim that there's stress in our lives. In a strange way that justifies our existence. Does anyone want to admit their job is easy? Does anyone say their life has been a breeze?

(Except me. My job is a piece of cake and my life is a permanent vacation.)

It's the same way that new parents are constantly told how much worse it will get when their kids get older by parents of older kids. That's the older parents' way of making themselves feel worthwhile.

They're stressed out (and likely getting sick)!

Although lamenting stress really came into its own in the 20th and 21st centuries, it's unlikely that we have any more stress than people of previous centuries.

Does my smartphone dying too quickly create more stress than a 17th-century farmer worrying about his crops? Is it more stressful when our car needs to go to the shop than it was for people in the 12th century, when 50 percent of children died before they were 5?

The next time you hear a study that mentions stress as a leading factor in some disease, remember this: Every person in the world would say that they have some element of stress in their lives, because it's true. Just living brings stress.

On the other hand, all the people in history who endured stress are now . . . dead!

Just thinking about that made me feel some tension. And my eye twitch just got worse.

Brad Stanhope is a former Daily Republic editor. Reach him at bradstanhope@hotmail.com.

Presidential candidates and local connections

It's a presidential election year and the choices are almost too varied for a rational human being.

Should you support Trump? Clinton? Cruz? Sanders? Rubio? Christie? Jingleheimer-Schmidt?

Who are these people? And why do they have my name, too? (Side note: It's ridiculous that people always shout whenever we go out.)

Admit it: We all need help to pick a candidate. That's why I will provide an additional bit of information to help you in the following paragraphs, revealing local connections for each candidate. Because, as Tip O'Neill once said, "all politics is local" (That was right before he said, "With this nickname, I'm forced to give 20 or 25 percent of the bill to all my waiters!")

Yes, you read that right: Tip O'Neill was a big tipper. And every major candidate for president has a connection to Solano County. Intrigued? Interested? Me, too. So read on for a brief description and their local connection – and then you can make your decision.

The local connection for each of the 11 major candidates for president, in alphabetical order.

Jeb Bush. The former Florida governor was the early Republican front-runner. Local connection: Jarrett Bush played football at Will C. Wood High in Vacaville and spent nine years in the NFL. He is J. Bush. So is the candidate. Boom! Local connection!

Ben Carson. The famed neurosurgeon moved his way up the Republican ranks during the fall before questions about his biography started a slide. Local connection: There are many doctors in Solano County. Like Carson.

Hillary Clinton. The former first lady, senator and secretary of state is the Democratic front-runner. Local connection: I once described the terrain of Suisun Hill at Rush Ranch thusly to a friend: "It's pretty hillary out there."

Chris Christie. The governor of New Jersey has struggled to gain traction in the Republican race, but still maintains a high profile. Local connection: He loves donuts. And there are a lot of local donut shops. Or doughnut shops. Whatever.

Ted Cruz. The Texas senator has moved into the second Republican spot in national polls behind Donald Trump. His local connection: For years, one of the favorite activities for Fairfield-Suisun City teens was a cruise. On West Texas Street and North Texas Street. A cruise. On Texas. Texas. Cruz. Get it?

Carly Fiorina. The Republican businesswoman gains respect during the debates, then falls in polls. Local connection: She was the CEO of Hewlett-Packard in the early 2000s. Many Solano County residents own H-P products.

John Kasich. The former Ohio governor is a mainstream Republican candidate who is a foreign policy expert, but hasn't gained much support. Local connection: There is an Ohio Street in Fairfield and undoubtedly someone named John lives there. That guy might call himself the governor of Ohio (Street), right?

Rand Paul. The Republican senator from Kentucky is moving up in the polls, partly because of his libertarian stances. Local connection: Rick Jensen is a former Daily Republic sports editor. Paul Farmer is the current sports editor. Put them together, it's "R and Paul." Rand Paul.

Marco Rubio. The Florida Republican senator is a mainstream choice because of his youth and speaking skills. Local connection: Every summer, local swimming pools are filled with children playing a game that sounds like "Marco Rubio."

Bernie Sanders. The socialist-leaning Democrat senator from Vermont has been a popular alternative to Clinton, although he hasn't caught her. Local connection: Bernie Sanders could conceivably be related to Col. Sanders, the icon for several local KFC franchises.

Donald Trump. The real estate mogul has led the Republican race for months and has an opinion on nearly everything. Local connection: He owns a bunch of hotels. There are many hotels in the county.

There you go. Eleven candidates, 11 local connections.

Be sure to vote your conscience. Because the terrain might get a little hillary.

Brad Stanhope is a former Daily Republic editor. Reach him at bradstanhope@hotmail.com.

Plan gives new meaning to 'changing seasons'

Let's face it: Our calendar is broken. It makes no sense. It needs to be fixed.

We just passed New Year's Day, which doesn't seem like the start of a year, but just as a continuation of winter. Other than Big Calendar, the industry that makes its money by selling 12-month wall posters at Christmas, who thinks a new year should start a week after Christmas? That's wrong.

Similarly, we all consider the first two weeks of June "summer": Kids are getting out of school, Memorial Day is behind us, it's closing on 100 degrees.

It's still spring, technically.

The whole calendar is a mess and I have a plan to fix it.

Sure, it requires moving around what we consider "seasons" and it ignores the ideas of solstices and equinoxes (both of which I believe are only observed by witches), but it reflects what's actually already there. The Stanhope Calendar Plan reflects the real way we consider seasons.

Unless you're a member of the Flat Earth Society, you have to realize that it's time for change. Open your mind and get ready to be convinced.

In my plan:

Winter is Nov. 1 through the end of February. Sure, it's four months, but so what? It's winter! We consider it winter once we get past Halloween and by the time March rolls around, baseball teams are in spring training. It's not winter training, it's spring training. Winter ends March 1! My plan recognizes that the coldest weather (in the northern hemisphere ) occurs in the winter.

Spring is March 1 until the Thursday before Memorial Day. That's when we have crazy weather, it gets warmer and it's the time that we make the transition from winter to summer. Spring starts when March starts. And Memorial Day weekend goes from "the unofficial start of summer" to the official start of summer.

Summer is Memorial Day weekend through Labor Day weekend. Summer is the season when the weather is warm, kids are out of school and people take "summer vacations." Does it still feel like summer in mid-September? No. Because it isn't summer anymore. It's fall (see next entry). I would also require schools to be on vacation during this period. No school in summer.

Fall is the day after Labor Day through the end of October. It's the shortest season (and I'd be willing to negotiate and let fall extend until after Thanksgiving if required in the agreement with Big Calendar), but that's fall. School's back in. Football starts. Leaves fall. New shows start on network TV.

One more change is that New Year's Day moves from Jan. 1 to March 1.

Isn't that a more logical start of the year? It's the start of spring, when things are getting green, people are moving outside and optimism returns after the long (four-month) winter. As a bonus, it moves the holiday away from Christmas and gives workers a day off when we could use it more. The last day of February (the 29th, this year) becomes New Year's Eve. We start a new year and a new season at the same time.

My conclusion: The Byrds had it right when they quoted the Bible five decades ago: To everything there is a season. And our calendar has the seasons all messed up.

Under the Stanhope Calendar Plan, we get accurate seasons and a New Year's Day that reflects reality.

Now back to an actual four-month winter of discontent with the current calendar system.

Brad Stanhope is a former Daily Republic editor. Reach him at bradstanhope@hotmail.com.