What should we think of sports celebrations?

Many of us love sports, but there are few things as divisive (and generational) as the celebrations that come from said sports.

Watch a modern athlete celebrate a good play and you'll get one of two reactions: Excitement or disgust.

It comes up every time an NBA player dunks over an opponent and flexes his muscles. Or a football player scores a touchdown and dances. Or a baseball player hits a home run and flips his bat, then runs around the bases slowly. A hockey player . . . oh, heck, I don't watch hockey. I don't know what they do to celebrate.

Oh! Soccer players score a goal and run around like they're an airplane. (Do they still do that?)

You get the point. The problem is defining what's really at stake.

Is it that a young generation has gotten carried away with its importance and doesn't respect the game?

Is it that the older generation has forgotten that we play games and that they're supposed to be fun?

Should athletes act like they've been there before? Or should they remember that sports are entertainment?

It's all in how you view it. Is an athlete celebrating an example of what makes sports great or why it's gotten awful?

Professional sports leagues have, of course, weighed in on this important issue by legislating it. In the NFL, there are rules on what is a penalty (one guy spontaneously celebrating? OK. Three guys doing a choreographed dance? Not OK. Spiking the football? OK. Spinning the football? Not OK.).

In baseball, it's nuanced and left to the players to enforce. A pitcher who over-celebrates (according to the grumpy old teammates) a strikeout or a hitter who enjoys a home run is apt to cause a bench-emptying brawl. At the least, he'll be told he's out of line. Local example: Madison Bumgarner of the Giants, who is 26, acts like Wilford Brimley on the mound – lecturing opponents on how to act, so they don't break the 120-year-old unwritten rules.

It's really kind of silly, but draws lines among fans. Mrs. Brad usually won't watch celebrations, while I run toward the TV to see them (the same reactions we have to a serious injury).

Is there a middle ground? Or is this the sports version of Coke vs. Pepsi, rap vs. rock or sock-sock-shoe-shoe vs. sock-shoe-sock-shoe?

I say there's a middle ground: Celebrations are good. Taunting is bad.

Most of us who aren't sociopaths (which is one way to eliminate disagreement with your opinion) are fine with an athlete showing joy. Think of Magic Johnson. Or Steph Curry when things were going well. Or Brett Favre running around like a little kid.

Joy is fine.

Taunting isn't. Shoving a ball in an opponents' face is a recipe to start a fight. Standing over someone who you just sacked or over whom you dunked is bad form. Mocking someone is negative.

Here's the easiest solution for all major sports. Quit making new rules. End efforts to legislate whether something is spontaneous or rehearsed. Don't tell players what they can't do.

Let athletes show joy, whether it's rehearsed or spontaneous. Let them dance, jump and celebrate. Let them have fun.

But penalize taunting. Enforce your rules against unsportsmanlike conduct that every sport always has. Whether it's a 15-yard penalty, a technical foul or an ejection, officials can stop taunting.

How can you tell the difference? It's like Supreme Court Justice Potter Stewart said of obscenity: I can't define it, but I know it when I see it.

So should the refs.

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

Solid advice from Dad on Father's Day

Editor's note: In honor of Father's Day, the normal Brad Stanhope column is written by local resident Stan Landers, the long-lost brother of iconic advice columnist Ann Landers. He will take questions from readers and answer them as only a father can.

Dear Stan: My husband loves me, but he just doesn't say it much. When I suggest something, he always says, "that sounds like a solid idea," and when we go out to dinner, he seems more interested in his 1968 Mustang than he is in me. I've told him I'd like to be more romantic, but he just grunts and says he'll try. What should I do? – Ellen, Suisun City.

Dear Ellen: That 1968 Mustang is a solid car. I love the floor-mounted shifter and the 302 V8, especially on the Fastback. The best thing about those classic cars is that they had room under the hood to work. You could fit a wrench in there and do your own work. I think the reason they make the new cars' engines so small isn't to avoid taking up space, I think it's to make you take your car to the dealer to have anything done – even changing the oil. My first car was a 1970 Nova and now I wish I'd kept it.

Dear Stan: My daughter lives in Alameda with my granddaughter, who is 18. I see the both frequently, but am not sure about the best way to entertain my granddaughter, since I don't understand this younger generation with their mobile phones and such. How can I interact with her in a way that works for both of us? – Roy, Fairfield.

Dear Roy: I remember going to Alameda when I was probably 19 or 20 – it was several years before the naval air station there closed down. They had a great taco place called Edgardo's or Eduardo's or something like that – it was a Latino guy's name and the guy it was named after worked there. The best thing was that if you asked for "the special," which wasn't on the menu, you got double sour cream, double guacamole. And this was before everyone loved guacamole. A lot of servicemen worked there, too.

Dear Stan: Two months ago, my niece and her husband moved into a home my wife and I own in Dixon. It seemed like a perfect fit until they stopped paying rent. Now I'm stuck trying to evict them while they fight it – and a family reunion is coming up this summer. Is there any way I can move them out and keep the peace in the family? I'd really rather not get on the wrong side of her mother, who is my sister. – Vern, Vacaville.

Dear Vern: Remember those great commercials with the guy who said "Know what I mean, Vern?" Those were hilarious. His name was Jim Farney or Jim Varney or something. I think the commercials were for John L. Sullivan Chevrolet or whatever cars he was selling then. I bet you hear that a lot, right? Didn't that same guy from the commercials do the movies about "Ernest," like "Ernest Saves Christmas?" Know what I mean, Vern? Ha ha.

Dear Stan: Is it all right if I use the car? Mine is low on gas. – Stan Landers Jr., Suisun City.

Dear Stan Jr.: Ask your mother. I'm busy.

Brad Stanhope is the father of two and a former Daily Republic editor. Reach him at bradstanhope@hotmail.com.

Ask yourself: What would cheeses do?

There is a little-known glut that could really clog up the American economy: Cheese.

The American cheese market is saturated. There are billions of pounds of cheese waiting to be put on a cracker or be made into a sandwich. Here's how bad it is: According to an article in The Wall Street Journal, the average American would have to eat an extra three pounds of cheese this year – in addition to the average of 36 pounds per year – to wipe out the cheese imbalance.

This glut is based on several issues, including a record for cheese production in the U.S. But most important was a decision to blockade (more like cheese block-ade, am I right?) Russia a couple of years ago after its incursion into Ukraine. That led to more and more cheese being backed up (not the first time "back up" and "cheese" have been used in the same sentence).

Ultimately, we have a situation where "American cheese" is more than a type. It's a description of the location of the world's cheese supply.

Again, this came after the European Union decided to punish Russia, so here's some irony: The cheese surplus happened because of a military move. Who do we look to as a neutral party in such situations? The same answer as to whom we look as a provider of great cheese: The Swiss, am I right?

Is that ironic or conspiratorial? Or a desperate attempt to get a cheese pun in a column?

American commercial freezers at the end of March (the most recent month for which statistics are available, since it takes cheese a long time to work through the system, am I right?) had nearly 1.2 billion pounds of cheese.

That's a lot of cheese, Jack. (Keep track of my cheese puns. There are more to come.)

For dairy farmers, it's a mixed blessing. Their product is moving (always nice for cheese), but demand can't keep up with record supplies, so prices dropped – they are off nearly 40 percent over the past two years.

You may think it's nacho (!) problem, but it is.

As we play out the string (!), it's obvious that there are ultimately some significant problems: We can't let cheese bind up our (economic and food) system. We need to keep things moving or else they'll get all stopped up – which is never good.

This has shredded (brilliant!) the industry, which is not gouda (OK. I'll stop).

But at least there is some good news: In the past decade, we've seen the housing bubble burst and experienced the worst recession since the Great Depression. Contrasted with that, the great cheese glut of 2016 is manageable.

Finally, a crisis in America that doesn't require us to tighten our belts – in fact, we're asked to do the opposite. It's time to eat an extra three pounds of cheese over the next year.

Easy enough, right? And a year from now, after we've wiped out the cheese glut, let's get together and have a picture taken.

We can look at the camera and say . . . .

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

Nature, funding both unfair to ugly mammals

As if the world wasn't already unfair to the ugly, some animals are in danger of extinction because they lack  beauty.

It's not evolution. It's prejudice.

At least that's the conclusion of a study published in Mammal Review Journal (which could really be the name for People magazine, right?).

The study was focused on Australia, hopefully by scientists with big knives strapped to their hips while they called each other "mate" and ate vegemite sandwiches. It broke native Aussie mammals into three groups: "Good" (such as kangaroos and koalas), "bad" (invasive species) and "ugly" (animals that look like Don Knotts). Researchers found that the ugly animals made up about 45 percent of the mammals, but got a small percentage of academic research.

In other words, the animal versions of David and Victoria Beckham got a lot more attention than the animal versions of Clint Howard and his wife (I don't know what his wife looks like. This is based purely on Clint Howard).

The professor who led the study said that scientists who research ugly animals do little more than document their existence. Meanwhile, animals that attract tourists and inspire cuddly animated characters get plenty of funding for studies.

This doesn't seem right. Ugly animals are stuck in a perpetual middle school and high school, where physical appearance is overvalued and the ability to know sports statistics, song lyrics and 1970s sitcom characters is undervalued (the previous sentence may be influenced by personal experience).

The concern among Aussie scientists is that the less-attractive animals may go extinct in the same way as Aussie musical groups Little River Band and Air Supply. If we spend all of our time making the lives of the beautiful animals better while ignoring the ugly animals, are we headed toward a world that looks less like a healthy biosphere and more like an episode of "The Bachelor?"

Well, there's some good news. There's an advocacy group: The Ugly Animal Preservation Society.

Seriously.

While their approach is to use comedy (frequently used by those of us not favored by nature), the goal is, "to raise the profile of some of Mother Nature's more aesthetically challenged children."

Some of the animals promoted by the group include the lesser horseshoe bat, the griffon vulture, the public louse, the humphead wrasse and the tonkin snub-nosed monkey.

Back to the Mammal Review Journal, where this started. The article about the study featured a photo of two Aussie scientists holding cuddly koalas while apparently discussing ways to make the cute koala's life even better. But it also included a photo of an ugly animal: the blobfish, which was once voted the world's ugliest animal.

I didn't think it looked so bad. It was really a fish version of Jimmy Durante, who wasn't considered ugly because he was talented.

Which brings this: Is it possible that one solution to the ugly-animal problem is one that humans figured out long ago? Perhaps instead of funding studies and trying to change perceptions, we should just teach the griffon vulture how to sing "You must remember this," and to do a soft-shoe dance.

Nature isn't kind. Neither is research.

But we must do our best to save the humphead wrasse and tonkin snub-nosed monkey. And Clint Howard.

Maybe the soft-shoe is nature's best gift.

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