American vehicles changing the meaning of 'old car'

If you're an average American, you drive a 2010 model car.

Well, that's not absolutely true. The average American car is 12.2 years old (meaning it's a 2009.8  model), but if you're in an average American family, you probably have two cars – one that was produced before 2010, one after. They average 12.2 years old.

That's the rather stunning data from S&P Global Mobility. American cars are an average of 12.2 years old!

This is the fifth straight year that American cars reached a new record for average age. Cars are two months older than they were a year ago (and who wouldn't want to be only two months older than they were a year ago?).

This is the continuation of a long-term trend. Back in the 1970s (the furthest back I could find reliable data for the average age of cars), our cars then were much, much, much newer. The average automobile in 1970 was 5.6 years old. By 1980, the average was 6.6,  by 1990, it was 7.6 and by 2000 it was 9.0 years old.

Now the average is 12.2.

Really, the trend makes sense. Because despite what typical car guys say, the average car in 2022 is much more durable than one from 1970. Or 1980.

Our cars last longer because they're designed to last longer.

The Stanhopes are, in this respect, at least, typical Americans. Mrs. Brad and I each have a vehicle. They're the same make and model, although different eras of the cars.

I drive a 2005 Toyota Prius with more than 200,000 miles on it. It's old. There are new rattles. I suspect the mysterious parts that make it a "hybrid" will start falling off soon. The radio only picks up episodes of "The Lone Ranger" and the back seat is filled with "I Like Ike" posters. It has a rumble seat (whatever that is).

Mrs. Brad drives the newer car, which still seems space-age to me. It has dozens of gauges and buttons and knobs (really very few knobs, but I needed a third thing). It has a backup camera! It has cruise control that can measure how far the vehicle is behind other cars!

Her car is  10 years old, so none of those things are really new to a normal person. But to someone who drives a car with a rumble seat (whatever that is), it's miraculous.

So our cars are made better and last longer than they were 10, 20, 30, 40 or 50 years ago.

When we think of the glory days of American cars (I'll pick 1970, although I suspect most car guys would set that date a few years earlier), we think that old cars were better built for less money. Well, the average new car in 1970 cost about $3,500 and lasted 5.6 years. Adjusted for inflation, that's $26,300 in 2022 dollars. According to the Kelly Blue Book people, the average new car in 2022 cost about $46,000 (yikes!).

So modern cars last twice as long (or more), but cost twice as much. In terms of per-year expense, it's stayed pretty stable.

Kind of like the rumble seat (whatever that is) in my Prius.

Reach Brad Stanhope at bradstanhope@outlook.com.

 

 

Coffee is a miraculous life extender, even if you use sweetener

Coffee makes you live forever!

That was a (semi-) logical reaction to a study out of England, published in the Annals of Internal Medicine (slogan: Don't forget the second "n" in the first word of our title!) that concluded that moderate consumption of coffee — either with or without sugar — was associated with decreased mortality.

Put simply: People who drink coffee live longer than those (losers) who don't.

Great news, right?

Well, maybe. Because I don't drink coffee black and I don't drink coffee with sugar.

I drink coffee with artificial sweetener and that wasn't determined to be life-extending.

The study determined that of the slightly more than 170,000 people followed for over a decade, those who consumed moderate amounts of coffee (for my purposes, I'll define "moderate" as two or three cups a day. Maybe four. Or five in a bad day. But rarely six, although maybe sometimes. But hardly ever seven.) died at a lower rate of common causes when the data was adjusted for lifestyle, sociodemographic and clinical factors.

Yes. Coffee is the anti-cigarette.

While anyone who smokes is more likely to die of virtually every cause (including catching your body on fire while trying to light a cigarette while weaving in and out of traffic), the study indicates that moderate consumption of coffee with or without sugar makes you less likely to die of everything (including the aforementioned body-on-fire scenario, since you'd likely have coffee with you to put out the inferno).

However, as mentioned earlier, it isn't so clear for those of us who use artificial sweeteners. According to the study's authors, "the association between artificially sweetened coffee and mortality was less consistent." Their conclusion was that it was difficult to know whether artificially sweetened coffee corresponded with longer life.

Come on, man!

Many of us who drink coffee with artificial sweeteners have no other choice. I'm a Type 1 diabetic (something I've bored long-time readers with over the decades), so my choice for coffee is to drink it black (or only with cream) or with sweetener. Since the only people I know who drink black coffee are cops on TV shows and people born before 1930, it's really a choice between drinking coffee with sweetener or not drinking coffee.

Is that really a choice? Again, come on, man!

I'm going to go ahead and take it on faith that it's likely that coffee makes you live longer even if it includes artificial sweeteners.

I say that because that would be good news for me because if I had to stop drinking coffee (and believe me, if I had to drink it black, I would quit), I would likely die sooner.

If for no other reason, because I might take up smoking. And how long would it be before I'd catch my body on fire while trying to light a cigarette while weaving in and out of traffic, without a coffee to douse the flame? Not very long.

Here's the bottom line: Drinking coffee extends your life, because even in the worst-case scenario, it can work as a fire retardant.

Coffee: The wonder drug.

Reach Brad Stanhope at bradstanhope@outlook.com.

When a dumb joke in a column prompted a picket line against me

My best journalism story is of a picket line.

Nearly 30 years ago, dozens of members of the Fairfield High School Scarlett Brigade Marching Band protested me outside the Daily Republic building. With signs.

It was 1993, weeks before my second (and final) child was born. I learned there was a potential problem when I got call before heading into the newsroom to start my evening shift. I was told that I might want to come in a back way. The editor had heard from the Vallejo Times-Herald that the high school band was going to picket against me. It could be ugly.

What. Had. I. Done?

That's was my first thought: Me? Really?

A day or so earlier, it had been brought to my attention that some people in the band were mad at me because of a satirical column I'd written in the "Best of Solano" special section put out by the paper. The annual publication celebrated things and places that Daily Republic readers voted as their favorites. Best hamburger. Best park. Best winery. Best local sports team. Best shoe store.

Best local band.

My column was an attempt to add some levity by mocking some of the strange votes. For instance, The Liquor Barn got votes as best winery. A convenience store got votes for best sushi. And for best local band? Well, I stepped in it, unthinkingly.

I don't remember who won, but I'm forever scarred by the fact that I chose to make fun of two recipients of votes – thinking of how different they were: "The Scarlett Brigade Marching Band and Crotch Rot tied for third as best band," I wrote. "Shouldn't their votes be combined? Isn't Crotch Rot the nickname of the Scarlett Brigade brass section?"

Hah hah hah.

Ooops.

I wrote the column in February and probably published two dozen sports columns between then and when the column was published. The students in the band were livid, inspired by the band director. Someone made a copy of that paragraph and passed it around, fanning the flames.

Anyway, I arrived at work on the day in question and things were fine. Nothing going on.

At around 4:30 p.m., chattering started. Then others from the newspaper building came into the newsroom, giggling. "They're out there. They're protesting."

Sigh.

I got up from DOING MY JOB and walked over to the window. A few dozen kids with signs were marching. Signs that said I was evil. At least one said "Stanhope = Crotch Rot." (Which was reasonably clever, to be fair.)

Something had to be done.

However . . . I wasn't ready to go face what I perceived as an angry mob. Didn't they know I wrote it as a joke? That I had forgotten writing it? Didn't they recognize that there were a bunch of silly one-liners in the column?

Nope.

Eventually, a group of kids came in. I tried to explain satire. They said it wasn't funny. Neither of us would give in.

Eventually, they finished up and left. The newspaper printed one of those semi-apologies where you say you're sorry someone was offended. The hard feelings from some of the kids undoubtedly persisted. I moved on and largely forgot about it, except for occasionally telling it as a great newspaper war stories to new friends and colleagues.

Recently, a friend's son–now in his late 40s–told me about being part of the band. He was uncomfortable and may have expected me to be upset at him or to have negative memories.

I didn't. I told him the truth:

"That's a great story. It makes me seem way more important than I ever was."

Reach Brad Stanhope at bradstanhope@outlook.com.

Is the government hiding ET information? Survey says yes

Photo by Stephen Leonardi on Unsplash

The truth (as they said in "The X Files") is out there.

A caveat to that saying: According to about half of Americans, "out there" means "hidden in government files."

A recent survey by Morning Consult and Politico revealed that 62% of American voters believe there is extraterrestrial life. Yes, ETs. To emphasize, that's not 62% of all people, it's 62% of those who cast votes for elective office. In other words, 62% of people who not only qualify to vote, but have voted recently. 

That percentage isn't the end of the facts. Of those who believe, nearly four out of five (79%) think the government has concealed the existence of UFOs from the public. In other words, almost half of all voters (my math says 79% of 62% is 49%. If I'm wrong, don't tell me, tell my calculator) believe the government knows about extraterrestrial life and conceals it from us.

That belief is consistent across political parties, ages and gender, with one mild outlier: The older and more conservative you are, the less likely you are to believe in ETs, but by not much a lower level than the general public. (In related news, the older and more conservative you are, the more likely you are to believe that old cars were better, the NFL was better when players didn't complain about concussions and that it was better when you could go to the movies for 50 cents.)

The survey was released as Congress prepared for a late-May hearing on unidentified flying objects – a naming convention that exposes Congress as a place filled with older people. Who says UFOs anymore? UFOs were a big deal in my childhood. We now say ETs, although I'd never heard the term extraterrestrial until the movie "ET" arrived in theaters.

Back to the point. Around half of voters believe not only that extraterrestrials exist, but that the government knows about it and keeps it secret.

To be fair to the majority who believe the government is covering up proof of extraterrestrial life, they have plenty of ammunition: Decades of rumors. Area 51 in Nevada. Dozens of sci-fi movies. All those hill people who claimed to have been captured by UFOs (do ETs have a catch-and-release program?).

Meanwhile, the government hasn't exactly extinguished rumors. In 2007, the Department of Defense launched an ET-seeking initiative called the Advanced Aviation Threat Identification Program (AATIP), which is a poorly chosen acronym. The government could have gone with something like Mass Arial Research Tracking Interstellar Aerial Navigation (MARTIAN).

But anyway, the feds launched AATIP in 2007 and didn't acknowledge it until 2017. That's suspicious, too, right?

Perhaps the point of the survey has nothing to do with whether extraterrestrial life exists or whether the federal government knows something and is concealing it from us. Perhaps it shows how much skepticism we have about our leaders.

If they're actually humans and not ETs wearing human skin.

Reach Brad Stanhope at bradstanhope@outlook.com.

Is America coming apart at the seams? History gives a clue

As we approach our nation's 246th birthday, the United States feels like a difficult member of your immediate family: You know you love them, but you wish they would behave better. And you're not sure how long they'll make it.

It sometimes feels like things are coming apart. If it's not the unparalleled political hostility, it's a worldwide pandemic. If it's not arguments over a virus that killed 1 million Americans, it's a series of Supreme Court decisions that feel designed to increase the tension in the nation. Every day it's something new.

At the midpoint of 2022, are the best years of the great experiment of democracy are behind i? Are we starting a slow (or rapid) descent into strife and division? Are really the Divided States of America? Is the American dream a nightmare?

Maybe not.

Perhaps I'm overly optimistic, but if you think this is the end, realize that we can sometimes be a prisoner of the moment. We forget that things often feel like they're coming apart – until they come back together. To illustrate, think about the history of our nation, going back one generation at a time. Or at least the past few generations. Thirty years is as good a definition of "a generation" as any, so look back 30 year to 1992 and compare it to life today. Seems like things are worse now, right?

Consider the events between 1992 and 2022 that rocked our national confidence:

The Rodney King riots were in 1992. Nine years later, terrorists flew airplanes into the Twin Towers, the Pentagon and a Pennsylvania field in the worst terrorist attack in American history. Seven years later, we began the worst recession since the Great Depression, as the economy tanked and millions of Americans lost their homes. That was followed by the election of Donald Trump, the COVID-19 pandemic and the Jan. 6 Capitol attack. Along the way, there were countless mass shootings. To many of us, each of those events felt like the end may be near.

We survived. So far.

We always seem to survive.

Go back another generation, to 1962. John F. Kennedy was in the White House and it was the era of Camelot.

Then we had the Cuban Missile Crisis, the assassination of Kennedy, the assassinations of Malcolm X, Martin Luther King Jr. and Bobby Kennedy. We had 1967 and 1968, when American cities burned and antiwar protests turned ugly. We had the Vietnam War and Watergate and the inflation/stagflation of the late 1970s. Then we had the AIDs epidemic and Chernobyl and Iran-Contra.

They all felt traumatizing. But we survived. Life was better in 1992 than it was in 1962.

Go back another generation, to 1932. A simpler time, when (if we believe the movies), families were closer and values were shared.

Except it was the height of the Great Depression and unemployment was 24.9%. Over the next three decades America endured the attack on Pearl Harbor and World War II. The Korean War followed seven years later. The Red Scare made Americans distrust anyone who was different. The fight for Civil Rights amped up because we treated people of color atrociously and many political leaders in the South were their worst selves. Kids practiced hiding under their desks in case of nuclear war.

We survived. Life was better in 1962 than in 1932.

Are we coming apart at the seams? It sure feels like it at times. But maybe a healthy perspective is that this is American life. We fight – with one side usually seeming absurd within a generation. We suffer from economic problems or viruses or social distrust.

We survive.

If history is a guide, things in 2052 will feel like they're coming apart. We will suffer through some issues that are unimaginable now. Hopefully, we survive.

Happy birthday, America. You could do a lot better, but I am still (somewhat) hopeful for the future.

Reach Brad Stanhope at bradstanhope@outlook.com.