Universe, Brimley both younger than you thought

The universe just pulled a Wilfred Brimley on us.

You read that right.

According to a recent NBC news article, several recent studies were conducted in an attempt to confirm that the universe is 13.8 billion years old, an estimate made after astronomers analyzed the European Planck space telescope's measurements of cosmic radiation.

The studies didn't confirm the age. Instead, many found that the universe is only about 12.5 billion years old.

It's younger than expected! That's (hoping his math is correct) a 1.3-billion-year difference. By percentages, it's the difference between being 45 and 50.

Those are important, because 50 is how old Brimley was when he starred in "Cocoon." Yes, 50. For context, Tom Cruise is now seven years older than Brimley was when he appeared in that film.

Like the universe, Wilfred Brimley was younger than we thought.

The universe age discrepancy led to the biggest space-time argument since the famous 1968 "Kirk vs. Spock" brawl that shut down the National Association of Astronomers meeting in Denver because, as you'll see below, not everyone agrees.

This dispute comes from how scientists interpret the data – with a side argument on the necessity of the "c" in "Planck" in the name of the telescope (most of us believe the c isn't needed).

This dispute goes back to 1929, when astronomer Edwin Hubble discovered the universe was expanding. That meant universe had a definite age – its birth was the time it began expanding.

Hubble's discovery led to the theory of the Big Bang, which led to the idea that we could figure out the age of the universe by figuring out when the Big Bang happened, which presumably led to the name of the 1984 Hall and Oates album "Big Bam Boom," which included "Out of Touch" and "Method of Modern Love."

Back on track: astronomers believe the universe has an age that we can discover. Decades after Hubble, the Planck space telescope came into play and made the age calculation possible by figuring out how fast the universe is expanding.

Astronomers concluded the age was 13.8 billion years. Until recent studies reveal the universe is growing at a faster rate than Planck predicted, which means the universe is younger than expected.

The NBC news article on the issue included this line: "given the stakes, everyone involved is checking and rechecking their results," which seems weird. I mean, the stakes don't seem that big, right? Does it really matter whether the universe is 12.5 billion years old or 13.8 billion years old? Both were before I was born.

Apparently it matters. The NBC story was headlined, "The universe may be a billion years younger than we thought. Scientists are scrambling to figure out why" and three weeks later, an article on Forbes' website was  headlined "No, The Universe Cannot Be A Billion Years Younger Than We Think."

Reading both made me feel like I was caught in an argument between an old married couple, but it's ultimately a science argument. This is what decided it for me: The Forbes article contained too many mathematical formulas and capitalized the word "universe" on every reference. I side with the NBC people.

But let's review what we know: The universe is only 12.5 billion years old.  Wilfred Brimley was 50 when he filmed "Cocoon." Bim Bam Boom was a solid album. Planck doesn't need the "c."

Who says science can't be fun?

Reach Brad Stanhope at bradstanhope@hotmail.com.

Email service reveals my age; a fitness craze suggestion

We're at the midpoint of summer, which means it's time to empty the metaphorical columnist's notebook, with information on email platforms, a new fitness craze, sports and more.

And of course "and more" is what we use to include everything unworthy of mention.

On to the topics du jour . . .

• • •

There are plenty of signs that I'm getting old: Gray hair, wrinkles, an affinity for 40-year-old music, early bedtimes. But nothing makes my geriatric condition more obvious than the fact that my primary email account is Hotmail.

Ha ha ha, grandpa. Nice job with the Hotmail account.

Well, first of all, I am now officially a grandpa, so thank you. Also, slow down a little. (Speaking of speeding, the speed limit on the freeway is that – the maximum limit. It's the maximum speed. I prefer to drive 45 mph in the slow lane, thank you very much. In my day, we weren't in such a reach. Oh, you can reach me at bradstanhope@hotmail.com.)

Yes, I use Hotmail.

I'm old enough to remember reading advice to job seekers to be careful about using a Hotmail account because it sounded too racy. Like maybe it involved sex.

Now a Hotmail email address is like having a Netscape email address watching an old tube television. My millennial co-workers are all on gmail–if anything (darned kids!).

Of course, I won't change. If Hotmail was good enough for Franklin Roosevelt, it's good enough for me.

• • •

A free idea: If you're a farmer, why not add to your income stream and reduce your work by calling your farm a "fitness camp?"

Cross fit is popular, why not this?

Farmers could have people pay to spend a few weeks in the summer "working out" in the fields, hauling hay around and doing whatever people do on farms (my understanding is largely based on watching movies).

Call it "Hayfit," make money and save expenses. Everybody wins.

Solano County farmers, you're welcome.

• • •

Quick sports observation: This year's NBA offseason the wildest such period for any sport in history, with several huge stars switching teams and a tremendous shift in the balance of power.

However, Bay Area fans should be optimistic after the Golden State Warriors avoided catastrophe. The Dubs lost Kevin Durant, but managed to add a young All-Star (D'Angelo Russell) and retain many of the key players around Stephen Curry. The Warriors will enter next season as one of the top 10 teams in the league, which seemed impossible after they lost in the NBA Finals.

Now back to non-sports coverage . . .

• • •

In a few years, we'll be telling young people how life was before television streaming services: "So you only had 250 channels and had to watch what was on when they scheduled them."

They won't believe it and neither will we, because it already seems ridiculous to watch regular TV without Netflix, Amazon or another streaming service.

It's like think of life before mobile phones.

• • •

I'd write more, but I'm running late for my Hayfit class. It's just $100 a week!

Reach Brad Stanhope at bradstanhope@hotmail.com (Yes! Hotmail!)

A statue's view of me: I squirm like a 7-year-old boy

So I'm kind of twitchy. Not in the little-kid-who-can't-sit-still way, but . . . well, maybe I am twitchy in that way.

But I didn't fully realize it until recently.

First what I already knew: I itch a lot. I squirm a lot. It's hard for me to sit still for a long time. If I ever have to get an MRI, I will go crazy because suddenly I will begin to get itchy everywhere I can't move.

That's not too unusual, I suspect.

I suspect.

But sometimes it's different. For instance, a few years ago Mrs. Brad and I were in Hawaii and took part in one of those do-three-things outings, where we hiked through a forest, rode mountain bikes and went snorkeling in the ocean (not simultaneously). The bike ride was the part where it became obvious.

We rode down a long, winding hill – obviously this wasn't an outing to see how tough  you were, but one to give you all the fun of without the work of pedaling up hills. Anyway, I told Mrs. Brad I'd follow her down the hill and did, for about five or 10 minutes. Just into the ride, I realized I was scratching and adjusting my seat and moving around.

Mrs. Brad looked like a statue. She didn't move.

I kept moving, adjusting myself. My arm itched. My leg itched. My face itched. I needed to move in the seat. I wanted to stand up.

I told her about it and we laughed. Ha ha ha. Yeah, I'm twitchy. I squirm.

Fast-forward to a couple of weeks ago. We were at a stoplight in our Prius, which goes silent in such circumstances. Mrs. Brad sat silently. She could hear me moving around, shifting, scratching. Looking out the side window, moving again.

She never moved.

We laughed about it. Ha ha ha. I'm a twitcher, she's a statue.

Then we had lunch with a friend from work. The story came up and we laughed. Then she spoke.

"You should see Brad during our meetings," she said. "He constantly moves around and taps his pen on the table. He's always moving."

What?

Apparently this is something about me that's known by people beyond Mrs. Brad. Apparently I'm the wiggly 7-year-old who can't sit still (in fact, we recently went to a Giants game with my nephew, his wife and their charming 7-year-old son. Mrs. Brad asked me what it was like to sit next to myself).

Apparently, the fact that I get up from my desk and walk around frequently is seen as restlessness, not being social.

This is a thing. (And, in fact, I've adjusted my seat several times while writing this and looked at the window while scratching my face.)

It's a little late in life, but I'm willing to accept it. While I would like to think of myself as normal and maybe consider my frequent movement as "having energy," others see it as me being a restless twitcher.

Mrs. Brad has known it for a long time, but I guess co-workers and friends do, too.

I'll do something about it after I'm done squirming, then walking around.

Reach Brad Stanhope at bradstanhope@hotmail.com.

Data on Americans and stress makes me anxious

I knew something was different. We're super stressed.

According to an annual Gallup survey released this spring, Americans feel stress, anger and worry at the highest level in a decade.

Americans are among the most stressed people in the world, a fact that makes me uptight.

Here are the basics of the poll: Gallup asked more than 1,000 adults whether they had experienced a series of feelings – positive and negative – during the previous day.

According to Gallup, 55 percent of American adults said they felt stress "a lot of the day," compared to 35 percent of people around the world.

About 45 percent of American surveyed said they felt "a lot" of worry (compared to 39 percent globally) and 22 percent said they felt "a lot" of anger (same as those around the world).

So we're more stressed, more worried and equally angry as the rest of the world.

Gallup found that negative experiences were most prevalent in those younger than 50, those earning a low income and those who dislike President Trump.

That makes me uptight (if "uptight" is still a word).

Most other nations with a lot of negativity were in Africa or the Middle East, while Latin American countries rated highest in positive.

Americans stressed, angry and worried, despite being one of the wealthiest nations in the world (No. 10 last year, according to one study), so money clearly doesn't buy happiness. What if achievement does? In other words, is it possible that we could turn this around by simply valuing different things?

Here's my plan to make America great again.

There are six nations that are more stressed than us: Greece, Philippines, Tanzania, Albania, Iran and Sri Lanka.

It's time to practice something I learned as a child: When you're losing, just change the scoring system. Insist you won because your checkers were eliminated first. Claim the lowest score wins in basketball. Say the goal in arm-wrestling is to have your arm pinned to the table.

Sooo . . . what if traveled to those stressed countries and gave residents money, paid for massages and played peaceful music the day before Gallup does this survey next year? The people relax, we get stressed and with a little work, the United States is the most-stressed nation in the world!

We could be No. 1! We spin it that being stressed is a positive!

The last time we were the undisputed No. 1 in something this important was Jan. 15, 2009, when Chesley Sullenberger landed an Airbus A320 on the Hudson River near Midtown Manhattan in the "Miracle on the Hudson." We were kings of the world! We were coming out of the Great Recession, we had a genuine hero and things were looking great!

The next day, a computer worm called "conflicker" infected more than 8 million Windows-based computers, really killing the vibe.

Since then, we've been like the Houston Rockets or the Los Angeles Dodgers: Good, but not quite good enough.

And stressed.

Under my plan, we can become become the kings and queens of stress. All it takes is a change in perspective and a trip to Iran and Sri Lanka to help the people relax.

Although I'm anxious about whether this will work, which is either good news or bad news.

Reach Brad Stanhope at bradstanhope@hotmail.com.

We have bigger homes, but we're still unsatisfied

Warning: A bigger home won't necessarily make you happier, unless you get a cartoonishly large house. And even then, you might be unhappy after your neighbor does an addition.

You already know that, but science backs it up.

I'm a baby boomer. I was raised in a ranch-style from the 1960s, spent most of my adult life in a tract home from the 1970s and now live in a condo from the 1960s (back to the future!)

You could say I'm old and cheap. I prefer the term "old-school."

But information in a recent report lets me know I'm on the right track. The McMansions of the 1980s, 1990s and 2000s held a hidden danger: They had the potential to make the homeowners unhappy.

That finding is from a paper by a guy named Clement Bellet. It also back up what you've heard from your grandmother, who told you that comparison is a thief of joy.

Grandma was right.

Bellet's paper reports that what he calls "house satisfaction" remains steady in America, despite the fact that the median size of newly built homes grew from 1,500 square feet in 1973 to 2,500 square feet in 2015. That's not shocking because another report says that the amount of space per resident has nearly doubled in the past 40 years. Homes are bigger now.

What's mildly surprising is that we aren't any happier with our homes. A four-bedroom, three-bathroom house with a large kitchen and a family room should bring more satisfaction than a 1,000-square-foot three-bedroom, one-bathroom tract house, right?

Not necessarily.

Bellet said the reason for the plateauing of satisfaction is simple. It's all about comparison.

He said (and brace yourself, there's some math coming) that if the largest 10 percent of homes in neighborhoods become 10 percent bigger,  neighbors become less happy with their homes unless their also grew 10 percent. In non-math terms, when the biggest house in the neighborhood gets bigger, neighbors become less satisfied unless their house, too, gets bigger.

Bellet points out that the people whose satisfaction is harmed the most are those with the second-largest homes. So if you see yourself as the No. 2-ranked home in your neighborhood, you are miserable if the gap between you and No. 1 grows. People who own large homes become unhappy when larger homes are built.

The result? Large houses are growing faster than small houses in an arms race to be the biggest, happiest homeowner in the neighborhood, even though it's a race you can't win.

All I know is that this report – and a lifetime of experience – shows that your house doesn't make you happy. And that people who live in glass houses shouldn't throw stones. And that there's no place like (a slightly larger) home.

To recap, here's what we learned

• McMansions don't make us happy, unless they're the only one in the neighborhood.
• When it comes to home size, the old saying is true: Second place is the first loser.
• Comparison is a thief of joy.

Reach Brad Stanhope at bradstanhope@hotmail.com.

FBI's says 'Bigfoot hair' came from a deer – as expected

The FBI says tests performed 42 years ago on hair purported to be from Bigfoot came instead from something in the deer family.

Of course it did. Because what else would the FBI say?

This is the same agency that claims Lee Harvey Oswald acted alone in killing John F. Kennedy, that insists the NBA didn't fix the 1985 draft lottery to give the New York Knicks the first pick and contends that Bill Paxton and Bill Pullman aren't one guy pretending to be two different actors.

So of course it denies that Bigfoot is real.

I was raised in Bigfoot country: Humboldt County. I've seen the Bigfoot statue in the small town of Willow Creek. I've played at the Bigfoot Golf and Country Club.  I've driven past the Bigfoot Motel.

Those are all real, although the FBI probably denies their existence. Just like it denies the obvious truth that the Titanic never sunk and that the moon landing was staged.

In case you've been living in a cave for the past 100 years (in which case, say hi to Elvis, Amelia Earhart and John F. Kennedy, who likely lived there with you), here's the basics on Bigfoot: He is a large, hairy beast that walks upright and leaves footprints around the Northwest. No, not a defensive lineman for the Seattle Seahawks, silly!

Many people claimed Bigfoot lives in Washington or British Columbia, but smart people connect Bigfoot to Humboldt County, where otherwise-struggling communities where I grew up can make money off the connection.

Bigfoot is said to be nearly 7 feet tall, but notoriously shy. Or reclusive. Or nonexistent, if you believe the FBI.

Bigfoot is shrouded in mystery, like the Loch Ness Monster, Abominable Snowman, werewolves and Yeti (Wait. Was the Abominable Snowman just a representative of Yeti, portrayed in "Rudolph, the Red-Nosed Reindeer?" if so, my apologies). If you're like me, the more that the official organizations downplay their existence, the more I'm convinced they are real.

Like when the FBI denied that "fluoride" in our drinking water is really just a sneaky way to dispose of industrial waste. If that's not true, why does my breath smell so bad?

Anyway, Bigfoot.

The FBI's Bigfoot report came in response to a Freedom of Information request to see the 1975 correspondence between the FBI and the Bigfoot Information Center, an Oregon-based organization that was dedicated to finding Bigfoot and Patty Hearst, while promoting the use of 8-track players.

After explaining that the FBI didn't do routine investigation into matters not connected with law enforcement (a cop-out, right?), the agency acknowledged testing a sample of hair that was submitted to it and said the hair came from the deer family.

So here's where we stand: After decades of research, there's no proof of the existence of Bigfoot. However, there remains a great Bigfoot statue in Willow Creek, the Bigfoot Golf and Country Club still exists, a reporter from the Trinity Journal newspaper in Weaverville was still seeking eyewitnesses of Bigfoot a little over a year ago and a Google search for "Bigfoot" turns up more than 46 million pages.

In other words, there's plenty of smoke, so there probably is a fire.

Here's all I know. The FBI may say the hair comes from a deer, but it doesn't account for two possibilities:

1. That Bigfoot is part of the deer family,
2. That Bigfoot owns the Bigfoot Golf and Country Club in Willow Creek.

That's enough for me, because I know the 1985 NBA draft lottery was fixed.

Reach Brad Stanhope at bradstanhope@hotmail.com.

Dad again dishes advice on Father's Day

It's Father's Day, the 31st-most-important holiday on the calendar (just behind Siblings Day and just ahead of International Sushi Day – which is Tuesday). That means as always, a special treat for readers: Advice from a father.

In the spirit of Annie's Mailbox, Ann Landers, Miss Manners and Tim Jones (one of those things is not like the other!), what follows are pretend letters from imaginary readers with imitation problems that can only be answered by a father.

It's time for Dear Dad.

Dear Dad: I live in Vacaville with my daughter and son-in-law. While I am grateful for their hospitality, my son-in-law clearly resents my presence in the home. Sometimes while we're eating dinner, he will speak to everyone but me. He planned a vacation for the rest of the family, ignoring me. My question isn't about whether his behavior is right or wrong, but whether I should say anything. Should I speak up, or keep my thoughts to myself? – Uncomfortable in Vacaville

Dear Uncomfortable: The one thing you didn't include is where your son-in-law wants to vacation. I've found that the best vacations last between one and two weeks. It reminds me of the time when I was about 10 or 11 and my parents took us to Yellowstone Park for two weeks, but it seemed like it lasted forever, mostly because of how much we drove. This was before everyone had gaming systems or even iPods, so my sister and I sat in the backseat of the car. At one point we started fighting and the old man leaned back and took a swipe at us to make us stop. He missed and my sister and I started laughing, which just made him more mad. Those were the days. If that happened today, the kid would be staring at a screen while wearing ear buds.

Dear Dad: We have lived in the same home in Suisun City for 31 years and love our neighborhood, but recently our neighbors moved. The people who moved in have about six cars and they park them in front of our house sometimes – they even blocked the driveway recently. Do I have a right to the parking spots in front of my house? Can I call the cops? What should I do? – Frustrated Suisunite

Dear Frustrated: You know what frustrates me? Seeing kids try to parallel park a car. When I learned how to drive, that was part of the driving test – you had to be able to parallel park on a street. I remember one friend, Ronnie Franklin, who dented up his mom's car during the test. We called him "Crash" Franklin for the rest of high school. Hilarious.

Dear Dad: "Jane" and I have been dating for several months and I think I'm in love. The problem is that "Jane" constantly talks about her former boyfriend, who she says was the greatest guy ever. How can I get past this? – Lovestruck in Fairfield

Dear Lovestruck: Comparisons are tough. If you don't think so, ask LeBron James. No matter what he does, people compare him to Michael Jordan or even Kobe Bryant. But if you ask me, Kareem Abdul-Jabbar was the greatest basketball player ever. He won six championships, six MVP awards and had that sky hook that was the most unstoppable shot in the history of basketball. I had a pretty good hook shot back when I played, but nobody does it anymore. Not sure why.

Reach Brad Stanhope at bradstanhope@hotmail.com.

When questionable surveys give you lemons, make lemonade

This is bananas! (You know, that yellow fruit with the non-edible peel.)

A survey by Hitchcock Farms, a California produce grower and shipper that produced legendary films "Psycho," "Vertigo" and "North By Northwest," revealed that only 22.8 percent of Californians could identify "everyday fruits and vegetables."

How do you like them apples? (The fruit that grows on trees and is a primary ingredient in apple pie.)

Per usual, the mainstream media made this out to be a "Californians are stupid" issue, like when we all got  sunburned that day that we forgot to wear sunscreen. Or when we spent 30 minutes looking for our glasses while they were on our face.

The mainstream media is so unfair!

But the issue isn't that Californians are stupid. It's that Kentuckians are stupid, because only 20.9 percent of them were able to identify everyday fruits and vegetables. We got 22.8 percent! Hah!

California and Kentucky being so far apart geographically, culturally and politically means that we're really comparing apples (see above) and oranges (the citrus fruit with a peel that again, you don't eat). Who knows why both states did badly?

Here's one potential reason: The report said the survey was done by showing people images of everyday fruits and vegetables, "such as an artichoke," and asking what it was.

Well, there's a problem.

An artichoke is an "everyday vegetable?" Anyone who likes artichokes knows that there is about a three-week period in the spring when artichokes are good. The rest of the time they are expensive and bad–like a Kardashian sister (more ammunition for the "Californians are stupid" crowd).

It seemed to me that citing artichokes as an example of "everyday vegetables" shows that the survey people cherry-picked the data. (Cherries are a red fruit that grows on trees and has a pit.)

Kentucky and California may be two peas in a pod (it's a green vegetable, grows on the ground), but the state with the highest recognition of "everyday fruits and vegetables" was none other than Utah.

Which makes sense, I guess, if you put salt on every vegetable (because of course, there is the Great Salt Lake and Salt Lake City in Utah. Get it?).

What's the takeaway? I suspect that somebody had the plum job (plums are the purplish fruit that grows on trees and are related to peaches and cherries) of creating the images and correct answers for this survey. It was clearly biased, which is what we always say when a survey reflects badly on us. In fact, claiming bias is the No. 1 industry in Mississippi, which routinely ranks 50th state rankings.

Anyway, the numbers were ridiculous. Heck, I took on online version of the test and I got seven of 10 right – which is well above 22.8 percent but also proves they aren't "everyday fruits and vegetables," because I would know them, right?

It seems that the idea of what constitutes "everyday fruits and vegetables" is open to interpretation. What one person thinks is obvious is not an "everyday fruit or vegetable" to someone else.

In other words, You say tomato (the  fruit that seems like a vegetable and grows best in warm weather), I say to-mah-toh. You say potato (the tuberous vegetable that's a staple food in much of the world) , I say po-tah-toh.

Reach Brad Stanhope at bradstanhope@hotmail.com.

Ranking the Bay Area's best pro sports decades

We're approaching the final six months of the best decade in Bay Area sports history.

The 2010s have been that good. Championships. Star players. Memorable events. So I already took away the suspense: You don't have to go to the bottom of this column. You now know what is No. 1.

But in the spirit that has led me to rank the greatest generations, decades, days of the week, minor holidays and even punctuation marks, let's look at the best decades in Bay Area sports history.

This is about the 10-year spans with the most winning, the best memories, the biggest stars. The list focuses on major league professional sports, so sorry to Johnny Miller or Kristi Yamaguchi or Andre Ward, whose accomplishments don't count here. The list begins with the 1950s, the first full decade with major professional teams.

From worst to first:

7. 2000s: This was the first title-free decade in the Bay Area since the 1960s and it added some terrible memories. The Giants lost a heartbreaking World Series in 2002 and the Raiders lost the Super Bowl to former and future coach Jon Gruden a few months later. Other franchises had bright spots (the A's had a 20-game winning streak in 2002 and inspired the book and movie "Moneyball," the Warriors had the "We Believe" season in 2007), but for Bay Area sports fans, the Great Recession refers to sports from 2000 through 2009.

6. 1950s: For most of the decade, it was just the 49ers – and they weren't that good. The Giants moved to San Francisco in 1958, giving Willie Mays only two years of this decade in San Francisco.

5. 1990s: Other than the 49ers (Super Bowl wins in 1990 and 1994), this was a lean 10 years. The Warriors descended toward the bottom of the NBA; the Giants signed Barry Bonds, then struggled to make the postseason; the Raiders returned to Oakland from Los Angeles in 1995, then failed to win a playoff game. At least the San Jose Sharks were born in 1991, bringing the NHL back to the Bay Area after 15 years.

4. 1960s: The Raiders were born in 1960, the Warriors moved here in 1962 and the A's moved here in 1968 – so by the end of the this decade, most of the Bay Area sports scene was set, including the California Golden Seals, an NHL team that played in the Bay Area from 1967 through 1976. These were the glory days of Mays, Brodie, the mad-bomber Raiders, Rick Barry . . . but no championships, unless you count the Raiders 1967 AFL title (they lost in the Super Bowl).

3. 1970s: This was Oakland's greatest sports decade, as the A's won three championships and the Warriors and Raiders each won one. However, the Warriors and A's won in relative obscurity (the A's never averaged more than 13,000 fans per game during their three-year run as champions, the Warriors averaged fewer than 9,000 fans per game during their title season). The 49ers (other than a run at the beginning of the decade) and Giants were largely dreadful.

2. 1980s: The most popular franchise in the region had its greatest run of success as the 49ers won three titles (with the fourth coming in early 1990) so many fans will automatically pick this as the greatest decade. That the A's won a World Series (over the Giants, nonetheless) adds gravitas to that theory. But consider the whole decade: The A's and Giants were largely bad, the Warriors were mediocre and the Raiders (who won the Super Bowl in 1980) left for Los Angeles in 1982. Great decade, but not the best.

1. 2010s: If the Warriors win the NBA title this year, they surpass the 1980s 49ers as the greatest Bay Area sports dynasty –  in the same decade in which the Giants won an unimaginable three World Series. Add a 49ers trip to the Super Bowl, a 2016 Sharks trip to the Stanley Cup finals and four A's trips to the postseason (so far) and you are back where we started: With the greatest decade in Bay Area sports history. And we still have half a year to go.

Reach Brad Stanhope at bradstanhope@hotmail.com.

Is eating the same meal daily boring or smart?

Does eating the same meal every day make you boring or savvy?

This argument matters, because I like variety: Every decade or so, I switch my lunch.

I ate peanut-butter-and-jelly sandwiches every day in my 20s. Ramen in my 30s and early 40s. Salads since then. Variety!

Back to the question: Does choosing the same food every day – for breakfast, lunch or dinner – make you boring? Or just low-maintenance?

Your answer depends on your need for variety. Food variety, like politics, is a dividing line for humanity. Some of us can eat the same meal, day after day. Year after year. Decade after decade. The same meal is comforting. It's predictable. It's good enough.

Others find it appalling. We don't want the same lunch twice in the same week, let alone every day for a month, year, decade, century. Give us something different!

A reporter for The Atlantic recently dived into the topic of what drives people who eat the same meal every day. He cited one study that showed that 17 percent of British people had eaten the same lunch daily for two years and another that reported that one-third of British people ate the same lunch daily.

Apparently, British researchers are more interested in this topic than Americans, who are more interested in choosing our favorite Kardashian.

Those British statistics reveal that a lot more people eat the same meal every day than you think. It's not just the obsessive-compulsive among us. It's not only motivational speakers or college football coaches who sleep in their offices or middle-aged former newspaper editors who are too lazy to change.

It's often regular people.

The big question: What drives some of us to forego adventure and eat the same meal over and over and over?

The article in The Atlantic cited predictability and simplified decision-making. Maybe we have to make too many other decisions. Maybe we hate grocery shopping or choosing which restaurant to visit. Maybe we need to avoid certain types of food.

Maybe we're boring. Maybe we're predictable.

One of the people interviewed volunteered that she has a "work uniform" she devised to simplify that decision, something with which I might identify (or maybe not. Only Mrs. Brad and my co-workers know).

This much we know: In an era where people identify themselves as "foodies" and have opinion on spices and menus and types of food that others didn't know existed, an article on people who eat the same thing day after day makes most readers feel better about themselves. They either learn they aren't weird or they feel superior to the control freaks who eat the same meal every day.

Not so fast if you're in the second group. The author of The Atlantic article pointed out the obvious: Most people around the world who eat the same meal every day do so out of necessity, rather than choice. They don't have the option to go to several fast-food restaurants or to have whatever meal they want. They eat what they grow. Or catch. Or beg.

For this salad-for-every-lunch practitioner, the most important observation came from a food-studies scholar at New York University. “Newness or difference from the norm (in eating meals) is a very urban, almost postmodern, quest," he said. "It is recent. It is class-based.”

So there.

Your desire for different foods is a class-based, upper-crust entitlement. My daily salad – joked about by co-workers, amusing to Mrs. Brad, profitable for my grocery store – is really a hat-tip to tradition.

Or I'm boring. Both may be true.

Reach Brad Stanhope at bradstanhope@hotmail.com.