Memorial Day ranks atop list of best minor US holidays

We're in the middle of the first three-day weekend of the summer, although summer is still a few weeks away.

Monday is an elite day: Memorial Day weekend holds a special place in America, signaling the unofficial beginning of the summer – a time for barbecues, campouts, the Indy 500 and the real purpose of the day: Commemorating those who lost their lives in defense of our nation.

While many lament the loss of focus on that part of the holiday, there still are many who visit cemeteries – military and otherwise – to honor those who made the ultimate sacrifice. So it's not totally forgotten.

Memorial Day is the best of the minor American holidays – those less flashy than Christmas, New Year's Day, Easter and Thanksgiving in our national consciousness.

Don't believe me? Check out my official rankings of the seven minor holidays (like the Seven Dwarfs and the Seven Deadly Sins. And the Magnificent Seven). These are the holidays which are holidays for some and exclude such days as Arbor Day and national cupcake day.

7. Columbus Day. The mid-October holiday lost cachet over the years as Christopher Columbus moved from "the bold pioneer who discovered America" to "the imperialist who brought smallpox and ravaged the natives." But . . . my birthday is on the traditional date of Columbus Day (or "Indigenous Peoples Day"), so I still have a soft spot for it.

6. Presidents Day. Formerly Washington's Birthday (the federal government still calls it that, although most states don't), this is commemorated on the third Monday of February. Washington's birthday is Feb. 22, while Abraham Lincoln's birthday – which used to be a holiday – is Feb. 12. Since it's Presidents Day, I am working my way through the list and am up to Chester Arthur (in 2019), then Grover Cleveland (both 2020 and 2022, since he was elected twice with Benjamin Harrison between his two terms). Presidents Day weekend is most notable for providing the best long snow weekend of the winter.

5. Veteran's Day. This originally commemorated the end of World War I (11-11 at 11:11 a.m., because those nutty Allied negotiators wanted to be clever) is more important in Fairfield than most other places, because of the annual parade and the city's proximity to Travis Air Force Base. The holiday gets extra credit because the purpose remains clear: To honor military veterans.

4. Labor Day. The flip side of Memorial Day, it's the unofficial end of summer. Labor Day is allegedly a celebration of the U.S. labor movement, but I've never lived in a town where that was celebrated. The holiday had more significance when it also preceded the first day of school.

3. Martin Luther King Jr. Day. Now entrenched as a holiday on the third Monday in January (King was born Jan. 15), this was the result of years of effort before it became a federal holiday in 1983. The holiday is new enough that there are still plenty of events to commemorate King's legacy and the Civil Rights movement.

2. Independence Day. No holiday has a more universal celebration – we all use some version of fireworks – and a clearer purpose: It's the date when the Declaration of Independence was announced. The downside is that it's celebrated on July 4, which means it's often not on a weekend (it's a Wednesday this year). That means a tough July 5 if you live somewhere (hello, Fairfield and Suisun City!) where people set off fireworks all night.

1. Memorial Day. As stated earlier, the unofficial start of summer, a day to honor those who lost their lives for our nation and a recognition of the end of the school year.

Enjoy celebrating the best of the minor holidays.

Reach Brad Stanhope at bradstanhope@hotmail.com.

Time to induct first class in writers hall of fame

Breaking news: There's no such thing as a Writers Hall of Fame.

I'm flummoxed because there are halls of fame for nearly everything: Rock and roll, every sport, even many states.

There are even weird ones: A robot hall of fame in Pittsburgh, a burlesque hall of fame and a pinball hall of fame in Las Vegas (of course), a barber hall of fame in Ohio, a stickball hall of fame in New York, a mascot hall of fame in Indiana.

And I write every year about the toy hall of fame in Rochester, New York.

But there's no national or global hall of fame for writers (there are state writer halls of fame in Missouri, Georgia, Kentucky and more). There should be and I'm starting it.

Partly because it's a good idea. Partly because I want people to see my name when they search for "writer hall of fame."

Since it's my idea and my hall of fame, I will use my criteria: Inductees are people whose writing I enjoy and who made a big difference in the writing world.

According to me.

What follows is my introductory class of 10 writers in no particular order. They will be honored by having their names listed on a Post-It note in my office cubicle, near my keyboard. Where I write sometimes.

John Steinbeck. The greatest American writer, his novels hold up nearly a century after he began writing.

Steve Rushin. The Sports Illustrated writer uses the language more cleverly than anyone in history. Daily Republic Sports Editor Paul Farmer and I are both members of the Steve Rushin admiration society, so he's in.

J.K. Rowling. She weaved the entire "Harry Potter" series together without making a significant mistake in those crazy, winding plots. To write seven books in a series and have them all be great is unprecedented.

William Shakespeare. The John Grisham of the 16th and 17th century, he wrote for the masses.

John Grisham. The William Shakespeare of the 20th and 21st century, he consistently writes interesting novels.

Charles Dickens. His books remain readable, even though he's been dead nearly 150 years. I sneakily admire him for the fact that he wrote to make a living, not just as art.

The Apostle Paul. Wrote much of the New Testament, so you can consider him the best-selling author of the past two millennia.

Woodward and Bernstein. I am a journalist. Of course I love them.

Dr. Seuss. Despite the confusing plots of his books, his marvelous use of language is magical.

Tony Wade. My favorite Daily Republic columnist, based on his weekly column ("The Other Side"), which has educated and enlightened for years. Wait. That's Kelvin? OK. Now it makes sense. Kelvin Wade, not Tony.

Reach Brad Stanhope at bradstanhope@hotmail.com.

Excuse me, sir! Newspapers were Google before Google

There was a time before Google. It was before we could ask any question into a phone (what was the name of the movie about the White House butler? What are the biggest cities in New Mexico? How tall is Ben Simmons? What are the uninhabited Hawaiian Islands?) and immediately get an answer.

There was no internet, but we could still ask questions and find answers. From newspapers.

Newspapers were the definitive source of information about everything and it wasn't just what they published.

When I started working in newspapers in the mid-1980s, we routinely received calls from the public, asking us to settle disputes. This wasn't part of the job description, but it happened all the time.

I worked in sports, so many of our calls came from local watering holes, where someone talked the bartender into letting him use the phone to settle a bet with his friend.

"Hey, I've got a question for you," the man (it was always a man) would shout into the phone, so he could be heard over the crowd. Then he'd ask a very specific question: "Who did the Jets beat when they won the Super Bowl?" Or, "How many homers did Willie Mays hit?" We would listen and then supply the answer, since most of the questions were the type that any sports writer would know.

The bar guy would shout for joy, then demand that we repeat our answer as he handed the phone to his friend, who accepted our answer.

Because we were authoritative. We were Google before Google.

For years, the Daily Republic sports staff regularly received calls from a man who spoke clipped English with very specific requests, always prefaced the same way. "Excuse me, sir! Could you please tell the result of tonight's major league baseball game in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, between the San Francisco Giants and the Philadelphia Phillies?" He would always say "Excuse me, sir" and would always say the full name of the city, the entire team names and the official name of the sport.

We answered, because we were Google before Google.

Another frequent question was the date of the next Super Bowl. Calls would begin in about March and continue at random intervals. We always presumed it was someone planning a Super Bowl party or trying to avoid a conflict with the Super Bowl, but we just answered, because we were Google before Google.

On election night, the newsroom (even sports writers) would receive constant calls, seeking local results. Other times, people would call to ask how to find Channel 5 on their TV ("Get your remote and click the numeral five."). Others would ask about the weather forecast for the weekend or how much it cost to tour Jelly Belly.

And then the "Excuse me, sir!" guy would call for the score of that night's "National Basketball Association game in Boston, Massachusetts, between the Los Angeles Lakers and Boston Celtics."

Times changed. The internet surpassed newspapers as the primary source for instant information. I presume most reporters could tell a caller who was president before Bill Clinton or when the Super Bowl is played (3:30 p.m. the first Sunday in February), but it's quicker to ask Google.

In a way, it's sad. But like a lot of things we reminisce about, I suspect we see it as a misty water-colored memory.

I remember plenty of nights when deadline was approaching, articles were still being written, coaches were calling in results and I would get the phone call: "Excuse me, sir! Do you have the score of the National Hockey League game tonight in Detroit, Michigan, involving the San Jose Sharks and the Detroit Red Wings?"

I would stop and look it up. At that moment, I would have been grateful for Google.

Reach Brad Stanhope at bradstanhope@hotmail.com.

Circuit Court makes landmark ruling about monkey business

Cheetahs never prosper. Nor do monkeys, at least in court.

Get it?

Last month, the U.S. Circuit Court of Appeals for the 9th Circuit made its latest high-profile ruling, after such decisions as (I'm guessing) Plessy v. Ferguson, Dick York v. Dick Sargent and Joe v. Volcano. This time, it was Naruto et al v. David Slater.

The appeals court ruled against Naruto. Kind of.

If you've been living in a tree (that joke will make sense before the end of this paragraph), here's the synopsis: Naruto is a macaque monkey from Sulawesi, Indonesia, who picked up an unattended camera in 2011 and started taking selfies.

Fine, right? Fantastic, actually. The photos turned out beautifully, better than 90 percent of selfies posted on social media.

Well, wildlife photographer David Slater, whose camera Naruto used, liked them, too. He published the photos in a book, claiming copyright.

Yes.

David Slater used the photos taken by a monkey and claimed that they were legally his.

That's like me taking the work done by 1 million monkeys to create this column and claiming copyright. It is wrong, therefore I won't do so. This belongs to the monkeys, so send them your cranky emails.

Fortunately, we have an organization like the People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals (PETA), the protector of the animal world. PETA filed suit as a "next friend" to Naruto, and the case went through the courts. Would Naruto win? Did a human steal money from him? It was unclear.

Then, last fall, PETA and Slater settled. They reached an agreement requiring Slater to donate 25 percent of his earnings from the book to charities that help Naruto's homeland.

Makes sense, right? It's all over, right?

Well, the court decided to weigh in anyway. And it addressed the 800-pound gorilla in the room – the question of whether the 35-pound macaque was fairly represented.

The court sided against PETA, but with Naruto – which took a little bit of work, since PETA represented Naruto.

First of all, the court threw out the case, saying that until Congress rules that animals can sue, they are forbidden to do so.

But the court slapped PETA, saying the settlement the organization reached with Slater didn't "directly benefit" Naruto, but served the best interests of PETA. The decision called out PETA for using Naruto as an "unwitting pawn in its ideological goals."

We call that monkey business, right?

So Naruto lost the case and PETA lost its settlement.

For PETA, it was a slap on the wrist, but some good news. The organization pointed out that the 9th Circuit recognized that animals aren't banned by the Constitution from bringing a claim in federal court. Congress just needs to pass legislation allowing them to do so.

Theoretically, animals will be able to someday sue – which might be bad news if you forget to feed your dog or cat.

Meanwhile, Naruto becomes a footnote: The loser in a landmark lawsuit that attempted to force a human photographer to compensate the monkey who took great photos.

It's bananas, right?

Reach Brad Stanhope at bradstanhope@hotmail.com.