We were born into a world of Susans; now it's a world of Mavericks

Kindergarten in 2027 will be dramatically different than it was for me.

Technology will be different. Students won't take naps on towels brought from home nor eating graham crackers. The academic standards will surely be higher than in Mrs. Sherman's class at South Bay Elementary School.

But the biggest difference? No Susans. No Karens. No Donnas or Todds or Carls.

The names that crowded my childhood classroom lists – and likely crowded yours – are no longer in use. There aren't any 5-year-olds named Cindy or Glenn.

The list of the most popular baby names in 2022, published by the Social Security Administration, provided plenty of fodder for those of us who like to make fun of modern names: Asher is the 19th-most popular boys name? Maverick is 40th? Luna is 10th and Mila 19th among girls?

We scoff because we know no one with those names. And it's true, because the names of our childhood – the Donalds and Rogers and Pamelas and Brendas – have disappeared. Almost literally, because the SSA also publishes the most popular names by decade.

In the 1960s – the decade in which Michael Jordan, Tom Cruise, Barak Obama, Jennifer Lopez and I were born–the top girls name was Lisa.

By 2022, Lisa had fallen to No. 933 on the list of the top 1,000 girls names. That was better than the aforementioned Susan, Karen and Donna – all top-10 names in the 1960s that didn't even make the top 1,000 in 2022. Other top 100 girls names of the 1960s that fell entirely out of the top 1,000 by 2022 are Pamela, Lori, Brenda, Diane, Carol, Cindy, Janet, Carolyn, Connie, Judy, Beverly and Darlene.

Boys names similarly dropped, but not to the dramatic extent (I only count Todd, Carl and Glenn in the top 100 of the 1960s that weren't in the top 1,000 in 2022). Still, these names were top-100 in the 1960s and ranked below No. 500 in 2022: Donald, Gary, Keith, Larry, Dennis, Roger, Wayne and Harold.

What does it mean, other than that times changes and various things influence naming patterns? Karen is now shorthand for a complaining baby boomer; Donald was the name of a not-so-beloved president; Roger sounds like a 60-year-old guy.

Here's the takeaway: Modern names are pretty cool (my granddaughters' names ranked eighth, 137th and 235th in 2022, so I like them) and reflect modern tastes. In six decades, we'll have a bunch of senior citizens named Maverick and Grayson and Kai and Aria, Nova (including my great-niece!) and Willow. Alas, I won't be here to marvel at that fact.

But here's a tip if you're expecting a child or will have a child in the next decade. If you want to be "different," don't name your child Liam or Olivia (the top names in 2022).

Go back to the old-school favorite that will come back over time. Consider naming your child Nancy (26th in the 1960s, 997th in 2022), Linda (seventh in the 1960s, 807th in 2022), Larry (35th in the 1960s, 889th in 2022) or even Bradley (72nd in the 1960s, 349th in 2022).

If you want a classic name for your child, try Wayne or Brenda. If you pick Luna or Asher, your child will be just another in a series of kids with that name.

Reach Brad Stanhope at bradstanhope@outlook.com.

End of Leap Seconds Will Give Us Back Some Time

When, in 2035 we ask, "Where did the time go?" we'll have an answer: the International Bureau of Weights and Measures took it.

One second at a time.

Brace yourself, because this is big news: Time is being taken from us by BIPM (which is somehow the acronym for the International Bureau of Weights and Measures in another language). Or time is being taken until 2035.

Because by 2035, the BIPM will stop adding leap seconds to our time as part of their efforts to help us keep pace with the Earth's rotation.

You weren't aware they would stop? Wait, you didn't know that they've been adding leap seconds since the Nixon administration? Neither did I.

Now you know why the past 51 years have felt longer than 51 years. It's been 51 years and 27 seconds.

That's how many times the BIPM has added a leap second to keep our time pieces (watches, clocks, smart phones, sundials, hourglasses) in sync with the Earth. It was seen as a necessary adjustment, because our clocks assume a year is exactly a year, to the second. But like most of us, the Earth occasionally slows down.

As a result, our timepieces get a little ahead of the actual rotation, so we need a "leap second" to allow the Earth to catch up.

It wasn't always that way. In fact, it's a relatively new phenomenon.

In 1972, BIPM began adding a "leap second" occasionally. It was necessary due to the arrival of atomic time pieces, which are so exact that they're the standard for world time. If they're not in sync with the world's rotation, who knows what happens?

If you were paying attention in 1973, you would have realized it. One of the biggest songs of that year was "Midnight Train to Georgia," by Gladys Knight and the Pips. When the song was written (a year earlier), the title was "11:59:59 Train to Georgia." Then a leap second was added and a Grammy Award-winning song was recorded.

The 1972 decision created  a conspiracy theory: That employers convinced the BIPM to add the seconds only during workdays, meaning that since 1972, you've given your employer 27 free seconds. Rounding up, that means if your average salary over that time was $20 (probably unlikely if you started working in 1972, but work with me here), you are owed an extra 15 cents. 

For practical purposes, this only matters in a few places. You might not notice a leap second. Other than Gladys Knight, few others would. But for systems that require an exact, constant, uninterrupted flow of timekeeping, adding a leap second can cause a problem: Satellite navigation. Space travel. Telecommunication. Gladys Knight songs.

Ultimately, after hearing Gladys Knight sing, "12:00:27 a.m. Train to Georgia," earlier this year, the bigwigs at BIPM decided to stop adding leap seconds.

So starting no later than 2035, they won't. Our clocks will slowly get out of sync with the Earth. Every few years, we'll get off by another second.

The expectation is that there will be another way to adjust our timepieces in the future. Maybe we'll wait until it's a full minute. Maybe we'll find a way to otherwise adjust how we track time.

All we know is that a time phenomenon that most of us didn't know existed will stop in the next 12 years.

While it may be a change, there's something to be said about atomic clocks and the BIPM: We're going back to find a simpler place and time (and when he takes that ride, guess who's gonna sit right by his side).

Reach Brad Stanhope at bradstanhope@outlook.com

Simple math shows why Fairfield is in the top 1% of American cities

More popular means better.

That's true of restaurants (McDonald's, which serves 69 million people daily is better than The French Laundry in Yountville, which serves a few dozen). It's true of music ("White Christmas" is the greatest song ever, followed by "Candle in the Wind 1997" by Elton John, because they're the top sellers. No. 3 "In the Summertime" by Mungo Jerry  is better than anything by the Beatles or Mozart or Elvis). It's also true of movies (Sadly, "Avatar" is the greatest movie of all time, but "Jurassic World" is a top-10 all-time movie).

It's also true of cities, which is why Fairfield is so much better than many smaller cities.

Duh.

"Popular" and "population" come from the same word: Pop, which means "better." (Don't check this. Trust me.)

According to 2022 Census data, Fairfield has 119,705 people. Fairfield is the 239th largest city in the United States and the 52nd largest in California.

That means Fairfield is the 239th best city in the United States and the 52nd-best city in California.

Don't blame me, blame math.

While that may not seem great, realize there are more than 100,000 cities in the United States and nearly 500 in California. So Fairfield is in the top half of the top 1% of cities in the United States and in the top 10% of California cities (no surprise: California is the most populated state in the nation, so it's the best.).

Understanding Fairfield is an elite city, based on popularity (the only fair way to rank cities) is fine. But consider some "famous" cities that Fairfield is better than, based on popularity. This is not an exhaustive list, but it's good for context. Four American and one Canadian city that aren't as good as Fairfield because they're not as populated (disagree with me? Blame math!):

Carmel, California. Wow, Carmel has missions! Oh, it's so close to Pebble Beach! Oh, Clint Eastwood was mayor! Well, here's the facts: Carmel has 3,200 people. Measured by population, Fairfield is 37 times better than Carmel.

Woodstock, New York. Home of the famous 1969 music festival (and infamous 1999 attempt to duplicate it), Woodstock has less than 6,000 people. Is it fair that more people know about Woodstock than know about Travis Air Force Base? Not in my America. Fairfield is better than Woodstock.

Gettysburg, Pennsylvania. Site of the famous Civil War battle and Lincoln's speech, Gettysburg is pretty great. But if it was really that great, wouldn't more than 7,000 people live there? Fairfield rules. It's about four score and seven times better than Gettysburg (In this case, don't do the math. Trust me.).

Lake Placid, New York. The site of two Winter Olympics is famous, but big deal! Fairfield hosted the Fairfield Classic bike race in the early 2000s, is the home of the Fairfield Expos baseball team and four high schools that play sports. There are about 2,200 residents in Lake Placid. Sad!

Banff, Alberta. The Canadian city is famous because it's inside Banff National Park. But there are less than 10,000 people, so how great can it be? Banff is inside a national park, Fairfield includes Allan Witt Park. Which is better? Fairfield has 10 times more people. It's better.

For historical context, Babylon was the biggest city in the world in 1200 BC. It's population was 80,000 . . . meaning modern-day Fairfield is nearly 50% better than ancient Babylon.

Fairfielders, be proud! You live in a city that's among the top half of the top 1% in the United States and is better than ancient Babylon.

Reach Brad Stanhope at bradstanhope@outlook.com.

Like I Was Sayin': New leader for 'greatest athlete in Bay Area history' list

For the first time since 1990, there's a new king of Bay Area pro sports history.

Of course, that's not an official title, but any history of who is considered the greatest athlete in Bay Area major sports history would conclude that the greatest was Willie Mays from 1958 (when the Giants moved here) until 1990, when Joe Montana won his third title as the 49ers quarterback. Montana held that crown until this year, when . . . well, read on. With no further introduction, the top 10 athletes (on Bay Area major pro teams) in history:

10. Charles Woodson, Raiders. The Hall of Famer played the first eight and final three years of his NFL career with the Raiders. It wasn't in the Bay Area, but he's also the coolest Heisman Trophy winner in history.

9. Buster Posey, Giants. Upset Giants fans? Well, read the rest of the list and realize No. 9 is pretty good. Posey was the Rookie of the Year, Most Valuable Player and the best offensive player on three World Series champions. What's more, he was the public face of the Giants as they had their greatest period in team history.

8. Ronnie Lott, 49ers. Even critics of the "finesse" 1980s 49ers dynasty acknowledged Lott was intimidating. A brilliant rookie cornerback for the first Super Bowl winners, he became the NFL's most feared safety.

7. Rick Barry, Warrior. When he retired, Barry was one of the 15 greatest NBA players in history. His stature has reduced, but he was a spectacular player who led Golden State to its first championship. Not beloved, but great.

6. Jerry Rice, 49ers. It says something about this region's history that the guy many consider the greatest NFL player doesn't even make the top five. The margin between Rice and the next-best receiver in the NFL was always massive and his prime lasted twice as long as most NFL players.

5. Barry Bonds, Giants. Greatest hitter since at least Ted Williams (maybe ever), he hit for power, average and had arguably the best eye in baseball history. Of course, he got "help" later in his career and a huge cloud hovers over his legacy. But Bonds from 2000 to 2004? Unmatched.

4. Rickey Henderson, A's. Yes, I have him above Bonds. Rickey played 11 seasons in Oakland over two stints. He's the greatest leadoff hitter and greatest base stealer in baseball history. Plus, he's from Oakland.

3. Willie Mays, Giants. Baseball's greatest player would be the Bay Area's greatest, except he played his first six seasons (and won his only title) in New York. A brilliant hitter, fielder, showman and teammate, he sadly lost his only World Series in San Francisco.

2. Joe Montana, 49ers. Unless you were in the Bay Area in the 1980s, it's hard to understand how popular the 49ers were. If the 49ers were the Beatles, Montana was a combination of Lennon and McCartney – the guy who led them to their first championship and seemingly came through in the clutch every time. Still revered.

1. Stephen Curry, Warriors. Warriors fans are seeing something they won't see again in their life – from the team (including Klay Thompson and Draymond Green and Kevon Looney) and especially from Curry. Steph's shooting changed the modern NBA and he's been the centerpiece of four NBA champions (even the Kevin Durant teams rotated around Curry). Curry has played 14 seasons in the Bay (Mays played 15, Montana played 13) and is the greatest face-of-the-franchise player in American team sports history.

Reach Brad Stanhope at bradstanhope@outlook.com.

If mosquitoes love you, it's because you're very human

One of life's mysteries is solved.

I've experienced it and you likely have too: A period when someone (maybe you, maybe another person) is attacked by bugs and others aren't. The person under attack is swatting them away while others think there isn't much of a bug problem.

For decades, Mrs. Brad and I have faced this. Bugs love her (just like dogs and cats love her, but are suspicious of me until I prove myself). They swarm her, while generally ignoring me. Mosquitoes find her irresistible. Gnats are attracted to her. (Insert your joke about me here.)

There is clearly a difference in how they swarm her and largely ignore me.

Turns out, she's not alone. Turns out, there's science behind what's happening – at least with mosquitoes. Turns out, if you're someone mosquitoes regularly attack, you probably can attribute it to your smell.

Yes.

Your smell. You smell good to a mosquito!

According to a study published last fall in the journal Cell (a scientific magazine, not to be confused with the prison newspaper I launched during my brief incarceration on Alcatraz in 1952), certain body odors are the reason mosquitos love people.

Scientific American, another magazine, described the study's conclusion thusly: "Every person has a unique scent profile made up of different chemical compounds, and the researchers found that mosquitoes were most drawn to people whose skin produces high levels of carboxylic acids. Additionally, the researchers found that peoples’ attractiveness to mosquitoes remained steady over time, regardless of changes in diet or grooming habits."

So accept it: If mosquitoes love you, they really love you and you can't do anything about it. It's like your mother (or a particularly terrible stalker).

Scientists have wondered about this for a while. One previous theory was that mosquitos were drawn to people with certain blood types, but that didn't really stand up.

In this study, scientists discovered that carboxylic acids are the determining factor. Carboxylic acids are acids produced in the oily layer that coats our skin, the amount of which varies for different people. The study couldn't determine whether there's anything that causes more carboxylic acids to be produced, but it concluded that our skin is fairly consistent in its levels of the acid over time.

That's what mosquitoes like and there may be a solid reason.

Researchers suggest that mosquitoes possibly love carboxylic acid because it's far more prominent on humans than other animals. Where you find humans, you find water. Mosquitoes, as anyone who lives near the Suisun Slough knows, love water. So they love humans and they love carboxylic acid.

So if you're a mosquito-attracting person, is there anything you can do? Probably not, although there is hope that this information might lead to some bright researcher finding a way to disguise or mitigate the carboxylic acid on your skin. Another possibility is that we force mosquitoes to consume large volumes of cocaine, which might damage their ability to smell. Or that we find tiny clothespins to put on mosquitoes' noses to make it harder for them to smell.

Ultimately, I guess, those who are attractive to mosquitoes can take solace in this: They're attractive to the bugs because they're extremely human.

Personally, I'll accept being less human-smelling if it avoids the mosquitoes.

Reach Brad Stanhope at bradstanhope@outlook.com.

The surprising miracle hack (get it?) behind how cough syrup works

I got a bad cough about two months ago.

It wasn't COVID-19 and I'm pretty sure it wasn't the respiratory syncytial virus (RSV) virus (although maybe it was). But after a week, a dry cough persisted — making it impossible to sleep lying down. I had to sit up all night, which is far from preferable.

I saw my doctor and she prescribed two inhalers and suggested cough drops and cough syrup.

I followed her instructions: Slowly, the cough got better. A little better, but not much better. Was the inhaler working? Seemed like it.

Then Mrs. Brad and I went on vacation, thinking the cough was behind me. It flared up again. I had a bad cough on vacation! It had been more than three weeks and I kept coughing. I had to buy more cough drops. More cough syrup (which is expensive). Even more cough drops.

Eventually, I checked online for various ways to combat a persistent dry cough. Maybe my doctor missed something. Maybe there was a trick.

The medical websites said to drink plenty of water (I did,). They said to use cough drops or other hard candies (I did).

Cough syrup? Most posts honed in on the same idea: Cough syrup doesn't make your lungs or your throat better. It's a trick. It fools your brain into stopping the cough reflex, so it's not that special. Cough syrup is kind of a scam.

That's what they said, but here's what I thought: SERIOUSLY? COUGH SYRUP FIXES MY BRAIN? THAT'S AMAZING!

Apparently, cough syrup skeptics want readers to know that cough syrup doesn't fix your lungs. So what? It fixes our brains!

Coughing apparently happens because we have a cough reflex!

One post said there is very little evidence that cough works better than a placebo. Another said, "Cough suppressants work in the brain stem to stop the cough reflex. Basically, they trick your brain into thinking that it doesn't need to cough, but the icky stuff in your lungs that's causing the cough remains the same."

First of all, the use of the word "icky" made me question whether a scientist wrote it. But secondly, if syrup stops me from coughing, isn't that good? Do the cough syrup deniers think I want to keep coughing?

The question isn't whether I should use a medication that works in the brain stem to stop the cough reflex. Of course I should! The real question is why this technology hasn't gone further.

If we can stop the cough reflex, could we also have something that stops the sneeze reflex? What about the laugh-at-inappropriate-time reflex? What about the worrying-about-dumb-stuff-while-trying-to-go-to-sleep reflex? What about The Reflex reflex, where you automatically start dancing to the 1990 song by Duran Duran?

A persistent cough is no joke and cough syrup only slows, doesn't stop your coughing. I acknowledge that the principal benefit of many cough syrups is they make you sleepy, giving you much-needed rest..

But I learned something, which is still important to me as I continue to recover from my coughing: Cough syrup magically tells my brain stem to quit making me cough.

For my money, that's better than anything it could do to help my lungs, even as I inexplicably dance to The Reflex.

Reach Brad Stanhope at bradstanhope@outlook.com.

Rest stop-type 'superstores' are America's secret paradise

You can have your Walmarts and Targets and Sam's Clubs and Costcos.

But if I have a set amount of money (say $40) and a set amount of time (30 minutes?), there's one place I'd go to spend my money and get the best combination of value and selection: A rest-stop-type store along an interstate highway.

For bonus points, one with plenty of room for truckers to park. Those are usually called "truck stops," but the stores often are for all kinds of travelers.

You can get plenty of whatever you want at a big warehouse store, but that's not what I want. I don't need four pounds of peanut butter or 264 rolls of toilet paper or 12 gallons of water in 16-ounce plastic bottles. Those are fine, but here's what I want:

• Coffee,
• Beef jerky,
• A hat that has the slogan of a nearby small town,
• A regional newspaper,
• Chicken strips,
• A small box of Ritz crackers,
• A Hawaiian shirt.

I suspect with $40 and a half-hour, I could get those (I might need more money, depending on the quality of the hat and shirt) at a store alongside an interstate. In addition, I would enjoy rubbing elbows with the other denizens of the store, none of whom likely live within 200 miles of the location and all of whom are just grateful to be off the road for a little bit.

Roadside "superstores" are an American treasure. Take a trip east on Interstate 80 or head either north or south on Interstate 5 and you'll pass several of them. And ultimately, you'll need gas and a restroom and you'll stop and enjoy the magnificence of these creations of the combination of America's travel (and trucking) industry and marketing.

You can get almost anything at those places (including some things that I'd rather not know about). The beauty is that in the store-for-the-traveler world, building size doesn't matter that much. Of course, I started by writing about the superstores that populate our interstates, but even the smaller versions – those rest-stop-type stores that have maybe eight gas pumps and 1,000 square feet of store space – the same idea is at play.

A little bit of everything: Snacks, drinks, some fruit, coffee, magazines, a weird assortment of clothing, emergency medical supplies, "hot" food (perhaps days old) and more. Everything a traveler needs to get to the next stop.

It's time we recognize the beauty of those places. Due to their location (almost always "in the middle of nowhere," on a flat area surrounded by freeways and offramps), they seem like a necessary evil, something needed to keep our vehicle filled with fuel and a place where we can go to the bathroom and get a snack. But isn't that perfect?

One definition of perfection is "to achieve the purpose for which something is created." Under that definition, roadside stores are perfect.

And they're a great place to find new flavors of beef jerky and to get a 24-ounce cup of hours-old coffee. What could be more perfect than that?

Reach Brad Stanhope at bradstanhope at bradstanhope@outlook.com.

Moons over Jupiter -- the 'Gas Giant' moves past Saturn into first place

There's a new leader in the clubhouse: Jupiter, with 92 moons.

The Gas Giant (a real nickname!) took the solar system lead last year, when an additional 12 moons were added to its list. That moved Jupiter past Saturn for the all-important spot as the solar system's most-rotated planet.

We haven't seen this heavy a rotation since all the songs from "Saturday Night Fever" were popular at the same time!

Saturn still has 83 moons, consigned to the runner-up spot in the moon race behind Jupiter's 92.

The International Astronomical Union's Minor Planet Center added the moons to its list. (By the way, the International Astronomical Union is one of America's strongest unions. Their strike in 1948 resulted in Pluto being added to the solar system, a move that was disallowed only when Ronald Reagan was elected president and a backlash against unions led to the deregulation of planetary designation. Pluto, lacking an effective lobbying group, lost out.) The "new" moons were discovered in 2021 and 2022 by telescopes in Chile and Hawaii and range in size from a little over a half-mile to 2 miles wide.

Astronomers say it's possible that the more distant planets (Uranus and Neptune) could have more moons that we've seen, but it's hard to tell because of the distance. Astronomers also say Uranus is the best planet name, then burst out laughing like 13-year-old boys in a science class.

Mercury and Venus, closer to the sun than us, have no moons. Mars has two and of course, Earth has one.

That ties Earth on the list of items with the most moons with the Who (drummer Keith Moon), the Houston Oilers of 1984-1993 (Warren Moon), the Los Angeles Dodgers of 1959-1965 (Wally Moon) and the San Francisco Giants of 1975-1987 (Greg "Moon Man" Minton).

That's not bad. I mean you could do worse than to tie with the Who and with the Giants (although Minton's era was probably the darkest era in team history).

For Jupiter, this is a major milestone. Until now, Jupiter was mostly known as the biggest planet in the solar system (kind of like being the largest member of the Jackson 5 or the heaviest man ever to be president) and for being in the opening lyrics to "Ages of Aquarius/Let the Sunshine In," by the Fifth Dimension. ("When the moon is in the seventh house and Jupiter aligns with Mars . . ." which is apparently gibberish. According to my source (Wikipedia), the moon is in the seventh house twice every day and Jupiter aligns with Mars twice a year. So it's not that unusual. However, we all agree that we should let the sunshine in.)

But back to the basic point. Jupiter is now No. 1 in our solar system for moons, leading all other planets, a famous rock band and at least three sports franchises. Saturn is now second and must be content with being the only planet that is also a car model I drove. And Uranus is still the dream planet name for all 13-year-old boys and well . . . me, too.

Congratulations, Jupiter.

Reach Brad Stanhope at bradstanhope@outlook.com.

A Solano County dream being fulfilled elsewhere by a flying car

Is a promise of our childhood about to arrive? Is it possible that a few decades after we thought the first flying cars would be produced in Solano County (Seriously. In Dixon. More on that in a few paragraphs), we're about to see it really happen? 

Local governments in Virginia are beginning to plan regulations for flying cars. That's not an outrageous planning move, it's prudent: After all, the first Jetson One – a flying car whose inventor says it can take off and land in a driveway – is expected to be delivered to a Virginia resident this year. This year! A flying car! Yes, Virginia, there is a flying car!

The Jetson One is a one-person flying machine. The manufacturers of the $92,000 vehicle require all people who buy it to attend a class before taking off, but according to some reviews, it's intuitive and easy to fly. It also only has a 20-minute flying radius with a maximum speed of 63 mph – meaning you could fly about 21 miles before presumably charging it up for the flight home. Not bad if you live in Fairfield and work in Vallejo or Vacaville.

A flying car! And it's (allegedly) coming to Virginia this year and probably to other places in the United States. The Jetson One people say they've presold 500 vehicles around the world, so it's hard to believe there won't be multiple sales in the United States.

As mentioned earlier, this almost happened in Dixon. Moller International was a company founded by Paul Moller, who spent 50 years trying to create a flying car, first in Davis (where he taught at U.C. Davis), then in Dixon.  In the 1980s, one prototype repeatedly hovered at 50 feet during a demonstration for investors. Early in the 21st century, another of Moller's vehicles achieved "tethered hovering capabilities," which sounds more like a helium balloon and less like a flying car. Moller spent hundreds of thousands of dollars on the M400, a four-passenger vehicle that achieved the aforementioned hovering.

The company was the focus of various Daily Republic articles from the 1980s through the 2000s. I read them all.

In 2019, a fire destroyed the first two prototypes Moller built in the 1960s. By then, his company had been dormant for years (its website looks like it hasn't been updated since 2017) and reportedly reached an agreement with a Chinese company to continue production. It's unclear if the Moeller M400 – or any prototypes – are still being pursued, although in an interview last summer, Moller insisted he was still pursuing a flying car and his company was private.

We'll see what happens. Never doubt a dreamer. (Also, never fall in love with a dreamer, as Kim Carnes and Kenny Rodgers sang.)

But . . . but . . . but . . . the Jetson One people created the Jetson One (arguably the greatest name for a vehicle since Volkswagen created "The Thing" for a couple of years in the 1970s, a fact I know because my dad bought one that I wrecked twice in two weeks during my senior year of high school). The Jetson One is in production and someone in Virginia bought one for delivery this year and because of that, the government agencies in that state are making plans.

I'm not sure how they'll govern it. Will you have to pass on the left? Who has the right of way? Is it illegal to buzz your former workplace? Can you use it to drop water balloons on unsuspecting tennis players from hundreds of feet above?

It's all up in the air (pun intended). But here's what we know: A dream that was pursued in Solano County for four decades might be fulfilled this year.

Reach Brad Stanhope at bradstanhope@outlook.com.

'The Bachelor,' Shakespeare and Homer: Why poems must rhyme

Start with an embarrassing premise: Mrs. Brad and I were watching "The Bachelor" recently (OK, get your laughs out of the way. Ha ha ha) and the  guy who all the women were pursuing wrote a poem to a woman named Kaity and then read it.

I don't remember what it said, but I remembered what it didn't do: Rhyme.

It was a poem without rhymes, which I immediately told Mrs. Brad was wrong. I even freestyled for her a poem he could have written: "Hello Kaity. We're on a date-y. I won't keep you out late-y  to determine whether you will be my matey. I promise not to do anything shady."

It was freestyle! It was great! It rhymed!

Mrs. Brad, who has a degree in English, shot back with the same ridiculous answer I've heard my entire life: Poems don't have to rhyme.

Which is patently ridiculous.

Poems don't have to rhyme? Then what makes something a poem? Is this sentence a poem? Is the Declaration of Independence a poem? Is a note from a parent to a teacher a poem?

To augment my argument, I did what I've been doing since I was in elementary school and needed to lengthen an assignment: I looked it up in Webster's Dictionary.

According to Webster's (which is how you always phrase these things), a poem is "a metrical writing," (a definition I ignored because we don't use the metric system) or the production of a poet.

What? I bet the definition of "poet" is "one who writes poems." It's a circular argument.

There was a second definition: "writing that formulates a concentrated imaginative awareness of experience in language chosen and arranged to create a specific emotional response through meaning, sound, and rhythm." Yeah, whatever. Here's what I think that means: Something that rhymes.

All the English teachers reading this are pulling out their hair, screaming into the void that poems don't need to rhyme. On that, I'll give them partial credit because, for instance, we all learned that haikus needn't rhyme.

But here's a memorable haiku:

What is a poem?

Is it words that just go on?

No. There must be rhymes.

Isn't that proof enough? Isn't it clear that when a haiku – the only exception to Stanhope's Poems Must Rhyme Rule – says that poems must rhyme? That's as good as Webster's Dictionary.

So we can agree, right? It's fine to write flowery prose. It's fine to write beautiful odes to nature or love or the hit-and-run play or finding a parking spot at the Post Office. But those are not poems. Those are nice, pretty things to write.

Poems have to rhyme. They had to rhyme when Homer wrote "The Odyssey" (first line: This is the story of Achilles/Who could have played outfield for the Phillies / He went out the door / And went off to war / And got an injury that gives me the willies."). Poems also rhymed when Shakespeare was writing them (highlight from "Hamlet": "To be or not to be, that is the question; when you eat hot dogs you get indigestion.")

Finally, poems absolutely should rhyme when they're on "The Bachelor," which is the modern equivalent of Homer and Shakespeare's productions. By the way, Kaity "won," if that's how you define winning on that show.

Brad Stanhope is a poet. Reach him at bradstanhope@outlook.com.