A column of final Thanksgiving leftovers

It's a month until Christmas, which means that it's only 10 months until advertising starts for Christmas 2017!

Emptying my notebook, here's a plate full of post-Thanksgiving leftovers, one bite at a time:

• There's nothing more frustrating than trying to get true customer service from a major mobile phone company. They're great at signing you up for service, terrible if you have a question or problem.

• Yes, I may have recently switched providers and tried to get an explanation on my final bill from my former provider.

• Power rankings: The top five remotes at my house, in order of importance.

5. Fireplace. We have a fake fireplace and it has a ridiculous remote control. Who needs that? I haven't even attempted it.

4. DVD. Different from my TV remote, although sometimes used in an unsuccessful attempt to control the TV.

3. Ceiling fan. Yes, we have one. And yes, our remote control changes the speed, beautifully.

2. TV. Could be the top seed, but I could survive without it. Like I could (theoretically) survive without coffee.

1. Garage door. Remember when we didn't have these remotes? We used to have to get out of the car and open the garage, then get in, drive in, then close the door behind us. The caveman days.

• So here are my thoughts on the recent presidential election: Aw, never mind. You don't care. And I don't blame you.

• One confession: Jack Kemp remains my all-time favorite politician. His politics were on both sides of the contemporary left-right split and he was liked by his opponents. Plus, Kemp was a really good quarterback in the American Football league and his son Jeff was Joe Montana's backup on the 49ers. So there's that.

• Speaking of sports, it's remarkable that the Bay Area has one of the best-run franchises in major league baseball (the Giants) and the NBA (the Warriors), while having the worst-run franchise in the NFL (the 49ers).

Bad news for 49ers fans: The best predictor of success is the front office.

Worse news for 49ers fans: There is virtually no chance of an ownership change in the next three decades.

• Remember when we watched network TV? Now, probably 95 percent of the non-sports shows Mrs. Brad and I watch are either on Netflix or Amazon.

• Current hot picks: "Good Girls Revolt" and "Goliath" on Amazon, of course "Stranger Things" and "Bloodline" on Netflix.

• When I occasionally read comments on articles on websites (including the Daily Republic), I wonder if people are actually that mean in person or if they channel all their anger online. And I'm not sure which would be a better outcome: Hypocrisy or constant anger?

• Was that last note an effort to discourage people from bashing this column? Maybe.

• And finally, congratulations to Dungeons & Dragons, Fisher Price's Little People and the swing for earning spots this year in the Toy Hall of Fame in Rochester, N.Y. In this case, the swing vote was literally the swing vote.

Still on the outside, shockingly: The Nerf ball. Maybe next year.

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

Despite my efforts, I'm blinded by science

Details of science are a mystery to me. I'm closer to Wayne Newton than Issac Newton. Heck, I'm closer to Cam Newton than Issac Newton.

That was obvious on two recent treks. In both cases, I was interested in the subject and tried to pay attention. But the details sounded suspiciously like adults in the "Peanuts" cartoons.

Wah-wah, wah-wah-wah, wah wah.

Baffling.

The first journey was a camping trip with church friends, including my smart, scientific friend Myron. One night, Myron stared at the stars and tried to educate me.

Myron was interesting. He not only explained what the stars were called, he pointed out planets. He explained solar systems and groups of stars and how ancient sailors used them to navigate.

It was interesting. It made sense. I asked questions and Myron answered them clearly and understandably.

Because not long afterward, I forgot it all.

Wah-wah, wah-wah-wah, wah wah.

Fast-forward a couple of weeks and Mrs. Brad and I were in Hawaii, on an organized hike through the rain forest, led by a guy who liked plants. Really liked plants. Everyone else did, too.

"What is this called?" he would ask, pointing to a plant.

"A rose? A tree?" I would think. Then I'd run out of plant names. Someone would answer ("ginger") and I'd think of the character on "Gilligan's Island."

The guide told stories about the plants. He explained what was poisonous and what was healthy and why. It was interesting.

Here's what I remembered: Wah-wah, wah-wah-wah, wah wah.

Mrs. Brad, smarter than me, was engaged. I tried to be – then he'd ask for the identity of another plant.

A rose? A tree?

Scientific things – like the names of plants, planets, stars and animals – don't stick in my brain. Other stuff does: When Mrs. Brad told me she had an appointment Dec. 6, I immediately said "that's a Tuesday," then impersonated President Franklin D. Roosevelt's famous Pearl Harbor Day speech about Dec. 7.

If she asked me to identify anything in the sky other than "sun" or "moon," I would be lost.

If she asked me to identify either of the trees in our backyard – both of which I planted – I would say a rose? A tree?

I regret my inability to retain information of a scientific nature. I wish I could look at the sky and tell you where the north star is. I lament that I can't remember the appearance of poison oak or poison ivy. I wish I knew what makes something a reptile.

Maybe it's because my brain doesn't connect the "why" part of science, so the logic of naming stars, plants or animals doesn't make sense.

Maybe I don't care enough – perhaps if you promised me $1 million, I would be able to identify hundreds of plants.

Maybe my brain is overflowing with sports stats, song lyrics and the names of characters from situation comedies I watched as a kid.

All I know is that when I go into nature, even with people as interesting as my friend Myron or the rain forest guide, I can't recall what things are called and I can't identify the names of plants.

A rose? A tree?

Here's what I know: Pete Rose had 4,256 career hits and Tree Rollins bit Danny Ainge's finger during a fight during the 1983 NBA playoffs.

But everything scientific?

Wah-wah, wah-wah-wah, wah wah.

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

Science reveals maximum of 'really old'

Go ahead and throw away that invitation to my 116th birthday party, because it looks increasingly unlikely.

Not because of any recent medical news. For me, at least.

It's because of recent medical news for all humanity: Three scientists from Albert Einstein College of Medicine published a report that claims that 115 years is likely the outer limits of aging for humans. That's the finish line.

“From now on, this is it. Humans will never get older than 115,” said the lead scientist, Dr. Jan Vijg, ignoring the fact that previous generations of scientists vowed that humans would never fly, never run a mile faster than four minutes and never be able to track Japanese cartoon characters with mobile phones.

Vijg was serious in his opinion, although he refused to answer a question about why he has a last name with the letters j and g appearing consecutively.

Vijg and graduate students Xiao Dong and Brandon Milholland (known as "The Big Three" at Albert Einstein College of Medicine) published their report in the journal Nature, which I receive a day after my copy of the Saturday Evening Post arrives.

For many of us, the first impulse is to disagree. After all, Jeanne Calment died in France in 1997 at age 122, the world record for oldest person. Her item appeared in the Guinness Book of World Records, just a few pages after that photo of the fattest twins riding their tiny motorcycles and a few pages before that creepy guy with the really long fingernails.

Anyhow, the study by Dr. Vijg and his partners break with some recent theories – but their conclusion is based (as expected) on solid science. And any argument with other scientists ends when Vijg says "At what college do you work? It better be good, because I work at Albert Einstein College of Medicine. Albert Einstein!"

The Vijg study showed that while the average life span has increased over time, the extreme end – the oldest person in a given decade, for instance – has remained steady.

About 115 years.

Of course, there are the exceptions such as the 122-year-old Calment, who died in France while laughing at the genius of Jerry Lewis. Sacre bleu!

As expected, the Vijg study was a hot topic in the wacky medical community.

“This paper is a good dose of medicine, if you’ll pardon the expression, for those who would say there is no limit to human life span,” said Dr. Leonard P. Guarente, a professor of biology at MIT.

Guarente then stopped talking because he was laughing so hard at his reference to “dose of medicine.” He doubled over for a good five minutes and when he recovered, he attempted to describe the study by saying “The Vijg is up,” but started laughing again and had to leave the room.

Scientists. They're hilarious!

Back to the study, which is not all bad news. Vijg stressed that our quality of life can be improved and that good health is beneficial.

But still, he insists, our DNA limits our life span.

“There’s a good chance to improve health span – that’s the most important thing,” he said. “(But) at some point everything goes wrong and you collapse.”

So there's that, I guess.

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

5 election items on which we can agree

We're near the finish line of the longest presidential race since Chester Arthur and Rutherford B. Hayes ran 850 miles from Dodge City, Kansas, to Tombstone, Arizona, as part of the 1876 Centennial celebration.

This year's election is between the owner of the United States Football League's New Jersey Generals and the first lady of Arkansas (based on 1985, the last time I paid attention), but once we finish, it's time to turn our attention to real problems.

That's a great thing about democracy. We can vote on such things as whether we should pay taxes on soda, who should win "American Idol" and who should start in the NBA All-Star Game. Additionally, the number of rights we have has been expanded by such freedom fighters as the Beastie Boys (the right to party, 1986) and KFC (the right to chicken done right, 1988), who showed that we can always improve our lives.

With that in mind, and with the election season ending, I hereby present five proposals on which we should vote next election season – all of which would make our lives better.

Merge directional states: Do we really need two Dakotas? Seriously? What about the Virginias? And the Carolinas? Under this proposal, multidirectional states would be required to merge into single entities, temporarily dropping to 47 the number of the United States. (I suggest adding Puerto Rico as a state, which would allow us to break out all the 48-star flags we put away in 1959.) And if you feel bad for the Dakotas, consider this: Even with this new plan, the state of Dakota (population 1.6 million) would have as many United States senators as California (population 38.8 million). That's still unfair, but I'll wait to introduce my plan to merge Dakota with Montana and Wyoming (creating Wykotana, population 3.1 million).

Speed up baseball: I love the sport, but do we really need more relief pitchers and pitching changes? The World Series was great, but slow. Change the rules to require relief pitchers to face at least three batters. Limit catcher visits to the mound to twice per inning. And install a trap door on the mound (with alligators underneath) that opens when a pitcher works too slowly. Bring back some speed! (And create jobs for alligator trainers.)

Coffee ordering simplicity: Allow only three sizes: Large, medium and small. Limit choices to just a few options: Lattes, mochas, regular coffee. Add a requirement that a cup of coffee can't cost more than a gallon of gas. And impose a limit on the number of fluffy pastries near the checkout counter.

Cable TV unbundling: Everyone agrees: We should be able to pick what channels we want on our cable TV (or satellite dish). Give us an a la carte menu of TV channels, with specific prices. If I only want the Lifetime Movie Network, FX, The Food Network and ESPN Classic, I should be able to create my own package. Actually, you can keep the bundles if you also offer the a la carte menu.

Whatnot prevention: Make use of the word "whatnot" punishable by not less than five years in a federal penitentiary, since it's a lazy word that makes you sound like a rube . . . and whatnot.

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