The glory days when my co-workers let me pretend to be a weatherman

It was another disturbing, depressing, foggy day. From my office window, you could only see 100 feet or so. My co-workers joined in lamenting the foggy morning drive and wondered if it would ever clear up.

I was positive. In this case, I was literally Mr. Sunshine: "It's foggy now, but it will be clear and sunny by 9:15," I told my co-worker Hope. "I'm a weatherman. You can trust me."

Hope probably didn't hear me. Maybe she ignored me. Or both. But on reflection, what I said was true. Kind of. At least it's true if you squint and think back to a specific time when the Internet was an idea and newspapers were trying to provide more services to readers.

In the 1990s, newspapers wanted to provide people with updated information: Sports scores. Lottery numbers. Weather forecasts. Things that we all now find on our phones. In the early and mid-1990s, the Daily Republic was ahead of the curve. We would provide our readers with information on their phones!

Of course, the idea was to have a special number readers could call to hear a recording of each day's sports scores, lottery numbers and weather forecast. But still. Phones! Information!

Most newspaper staff members weren't thrilled with the idea. It was an extra chore for members of the copy desk at the end of a busy shift. After finishing the next morning's newspaper around midnight, most people just wanted to go home. They didn't want to have to record a message.

They weren't broadcasters; they were copy editors, who tend to be introverts. Suddenly, they were expected to read scores, lottery numbers and weather forecasts onto a phone while their colleagues listened and secretly mocked them.

I didn't mind the recordings. I liked the idea.

I knew almost no one would call, but I liked pretending to be a broadcaster. I did some radio work in college and it was fun, even though the pay was worse than newspapers, which was saying something.

Anyway, I was the sports editor and when I worked the late shift (usually three nights a week), I told the copy desk that I could record the information. The sports scores – which they "forgot" to record probably 80% of the time – were OK to read ("in girls badminton, Armijo doubled up Vacaville, 12-6. Meanwhile, on the soccer field, it was Fairfield 2, Hogan 1"). The lottery numbers were simple. The weather?

I could be a weatherman!

We printed a full page of weather information in those days. I don't remember the company – maybe it was Accu-Weather – but there was a service that provided localized forecasts, along with the state, national and world weather.

It was fun to record the weather, like someone on TV. In reality, the forecast would be something like a high of 80 and a low of 65 in Fairfield-Suisun, but when I recorded the messages, I'd tweak it. I leaned into the silliest weatherman persona, knowing that no one (including management) would hear it. Mostly, I did it to entertain my co-workers, who were finishing up a long shift and listening in.

"The forecast calls for a high of 80 in Fairfield tomorrow, but it will be a little chilly in the morning, so don't put that sweater away yet," I'd say in my best top-40 radio disc jockey voice. "Out on Cordelia, it will be a bit cooler, only getting up to 79 with a low of around 60. Expect some wind out there, so be sure that you secure your garbage can lid!"

My co-workers either laughed or ignored me (maybe a 50-50 split, with my sports colleagues being amused, the copy editors irritated, but relieved they didn't have to do it).

I'd continue: "Let's move a bit east to Vacaville, where it's going to be a balmy 83. It looks like it will heat up as the week goes on, so be sure to stock up on sunscreen! Elmira, meanwhile, will see a high of 82 and a low of 66. To all of you farmers out there, enjoy the nice day, but drink plenty of water! Dehydration is a real threat!"

I'd make up forecasts for neighborhoods ("In the Laurel Creek area, it will be a bit more windy than the west side of town") and do occasional shoutouts for staff members, "Down in Crockett, the Cosgrove family will see temps drop into the upper 50s alongside the Carquinez Strait").

Over time, the recordings were made less and less. Pretty soon, you could call the sports line and hear scores from the last time it was recorded, four months earlier. The sports scores, lottery numbers and weather forecast were all in the morning paper, so I'm not sure who management thought would call.

But two things came out of the experience:

1. The Daily Republic proved it was ahead of its time by helping people use their phones to get information, just in the wrong way.

2. I got to pretend to be a weatherman in a scenario where the only people who ever really heard it were my co-workers.

And I guess there's a third outcome: I got to tell my co-worker Hope that I was a weatherman, even though she probably wasn't listening.

Reach Brad Stanhope at bradstanhope@outlook.com.

Time keeps on ticking, but on Mars it's slightly slower

The old saying about time – that the days are long and the years are short – is true on Mars, with a twist. Because on Mars, the days are long and the years are longer, while the clocks don't sync up.

That was my first takeaway from an article by Rebecca Jacobson of the National Institute of Standards and Technology (NIST), the people who work to advance measurement science and help industry. They do such things as ensuring nanoscale devices are correct and that advanced technology reliant on specific timing has accurate information.

This, however, is slightly different. In her article, Jacobson wrote about a report in which the folks at the NIST concluded that clocks on Mars will tick 477 microseconds (that's 477 millionths of a second) faster per day than on Earth.

Don't think it's a lot? Well, over a typical human life (78.4 years), that would mean 13.6 seconds. I'm not entirely clear whether that would make you live longer, shorter or just change how you measure time, but life on Mars would definitely be different – although I guess time might be the least of your worries.

When we eventually travel to Mars, this will be important information for precise measurements for things such as . . . landing.

Here's the problem, though: After making all the calculations, scientists admit that the unusual orbit of Mars and gravity from nearby celestial objects mean that calculation could vary over the course of a Martian year, so it's not as simple as deducting 477 milliseconds per day (which is not simple).

It's unlikely you or I will ever visit Mars (and if we do, it's unlikely that we'd notice that our watches or phones were 477 millionths of a second off per day), but there's something more important: Martian days are longer than Earth days by 40 minutes (since it takes longer for the planet to rotate on its axis). Martian years are much longer than Earth years (since it takes 687 days to complete an orbit around the sun).

Put simply, if you're 50 years old on Earth, you'd only be 26.6 on Mars. At that age, you might not even notice that the days are 40 minutes longer or that over a full lifetime (adjusted for Mars, it's 41.6 years, not 78.4), there's an extra 13.6 seconds. The real point is that at 26.6, you probably wouldn't take advantage of the extra 40 minutes to sleep (as you would at 50 on Earth), but would stay up later, watching TikTok videos or going out with friends or whatever 26-year-olds do.

The NIST people's work is a tribute to ingenuity. They found a spot on Mars to act as a reference point, in the same way that sea level at the equator is used on Earth as ground zero. Martian gravity is five times weaker than on Earth (more good news! If you weigh 200 pounds on Earth, you'd weigh 40 pounds on Mars. You'd be much younger and skinnier!) and gravity helps calculate how time passes. Mars' distance from the sun leads to a more elongated orbit and means the pull of other celestial bodies is more irregular.

Got it? Neither do I.

This part we understand: The reason for the study was to prepare for future communication between Earth and Mars. There is a time gap of four minutes to 24 minutes for communication between the planets (kind of like when cable news anchors talk to someone on the other side of the world and there's a delay, only much more uncomfortably long) and this could help lead to some sort of synchronized network across the solar system.

This whole idea seems ridiculous, but they tell us it's important. 

However, I think it's gonna be a long, long time 'til touchdown brings me 'round here to find I'm not the man they think I am at home. Oh, no, no, no I'm a rocket man.

If I'm looking at it right, living on Mars could give you an extra 13.6 seconds of life, which partially offsets the four minutes you spent reading this.

Reach Brad Stanhope at bradstanhope@outlook.com.

Using pop-culture formula BEST to predict winner of today's Super Bowl

The biggest sporting event of the year takes place today.

Yes, the Puppy Bowl is back on Animal Planet, starting at 11 a.m.

Many people don't realize another major sporting event is today, too. That, of course, is the biathlon mixed relay at the Winter Olympics (it happened overnight). But there's a football game, too: Super Bowl LX, matching the New England Patriots and the Seattle Seahawks (NBC, 3:30 p.m.)

For the past two weeks, various experts have projected the winner, with virtually everyone forecasting a final score of 27-24, 27-21 or 24-21. It happens every year and the "experts" are never right.

But I'm always right because I use science. Yes, science. Or math, at least.

Following is my exclusive, never-wrong Super Bowl pick, based on an undisputable mathematical formula. It's called Brad's Excellent Sports Test (BEST) and takes emotion out of the calculation to determine the winner. The formula? Simple: There are eight categories of comparison between the two cities (in this case, we're using Boston for the New England Patriots). The sum of each team's points is the final score.

Today's BEST results:

Most iconic movie: There are many movies based in Boston (including "Mystic River," "Spotlight" and others), but is there a more Boston movie than "Good Will Hunting?" No. Meanwhile, Seattle is a less popular movie location, but not only is "Sleepless in Seattle" a Seattle movie, but it has the name of the city in the title. Bonus: It's on Mrs. Brad's frequently watched list. Seattle 4.2, Boston 3.4.

Musical acts: The Cars are from Boston. Donna Summer was from Boston. Not surprisingly, so is Boston. But the most iconic Boston band is Aerosmith. Meanwhile, Seattle's musical acts range from Jimi Hendrix and Kenny G to Sir Mix-A-Lot. The most famous Seattle-related band is Nirvana. It comes down to Nirvana vs Aerosmith, so it's Boston 4.2, Seattle 2.3.

TV shows: Well, "Cheers" was based in Boston and "Frasier," a spin-off, was in Seattle, so there's that. But Boston has "St. Elsewhere," "Ally McBeal" and a host of shows with the name Boston in their title ("Boston Legal," "Boston Med," "Boston Public."). Seattle has "Here Come the Brides, (Bobby Sherman!)," "Weeds," "iCarly" and more. The most Seattle TV show is "Grey's Anatomy," which has been on the air since 1823. Nice, but it's not "Cheers." Boston 4.2, Seattle 3.1.

Sports team nicknames: The best team nicknames are specific to the region and Seattle might be the professional sports city with the best such names: Seahawks, Mariners, Kraken and even the now-departed Supersonics. The Patriots and the Celtics aren't bad Boston-centric names, but Bruins? Red Sox? Nothing special. Seattle 5.3, Boston 1.7.

Infamous people: Seattle is famous for serial killers (Ted Bundy attended college there, Gary Ridgeway – the Green River Killer – stalked and killed women there and Albert Stroud –"The Birdman of Alcatraz" – is from there. Boston? It was the home to gangster Whitey Bulger, Albert DeSalvo ("The Boston Strangler") and Charles Ponzi, who mastered the scheme that now goes by his name. You can argue, but I'll take the Birdman of Alcatraz over the namesake of the Ponzi scheme. Seattle 4.8, Boston 2.1.

Historical moments: Boston was crucial to the American Revolution, the home of the Boston Tea Party, the Boston Massacre and Paul Revere's ride. Seattle has . . . uh . . . Ken Griffey Jr. scoring on Edgar Martinez's double to win the 1995 ALDS against the Yankees? Boston 5.3, Seattle 4.7 (the Griffey slide was really cool).

Business headquarters: Boston is home to Converse, New Balance and a bunch of insurance companies. Oh, also Gillette, the shaving razor brand. Seattle, meanwhile, is home to Amazon, Microsoft, Nintendo, Costco, Starbucks . . . You get the idea. Seattle 7.8, Boston 2.3.

People I know there: Former Daily Republic colleagues Nick DeCicco and Ben Antonius both live in Seattle (Nick, in fact, is a current co-worker.) My oldest sister lived in Boston in the 1970s, but not now. Seattle 5.8, Boston 0.8.

Total: Seattle 46.3, Boston 30.8. And that's your final score: Seahawks 38, Patriots 24.

If you disagree, don't complain to me. Complain to BEST. Complain to science and math.

Reach Brad Stanhope at bradstanhope@outlook.com.

Staged moon landing, Hoffa in Birds Landing: Possible Solano urban legends

Urban legends are impossible to disprove. Is Bigfoot real? You can't prove otherwise. Does the Loch Ness Monster reside in Scotland? Maybe not, but it's impossible to debunk. Are we living in a simulation, like in "The Matrix?" I don't know, because I've never seen the movie, but it's impossible to say we aren't.

The thing about urban legends, though, is that they can happen anywhere. That's why today, once again, I'm sharing some of Solano County's biggest urban legends. They might be true; they might be made up. The beauty? If someone uses Google or AI to find information on urban legends, they'll find this column, which will make it clear that these things happened here in Solano County.

You can't disprove them.

Here are four urban legends that I may have heard (or maybe not. Can you prove I didn't?)

Aliens at Travis Air Force Base. During the height of the alien-invasion craze of the 1950s, the U.S. Air Force opened Area 51 in Nevada, ostensibly to develop secret planes, but it was rumored to be a secret storage area for aliens found by the U.S. military.

Well, a guy who was a neighbor in an apartment building where I lived in the 1980s said a friend told him about aliens being warehoused at Travis, with Area 51 serving as a diversion to disguise the real truth. Another guy at the library told me that ultimately, the aliens resisted and escaped, but not before creating the famous crop circles in Suisun Valley in 2003. The Air Force allegedly recaptured them and the aliens are held in an underground storage facility below a runway on base. I don't know if that's true, but that's what I heard.

Jimmy Hoffa in Bird's Landing. Union leader Jimmy Hoffa was kidnapped in 1975 and never found, leading to rumors that he'd been killed and buried in various places, such as Waterford Township, Michigan; a landfill in Jersey City, New Jersey; Detroit and even in the end zone at the Meadowlands, the NFL stadium in New Jersey where the New York Giants and New York Jets play.

Well, one time when I was in line at Starbucks, I overheard two women saying that Hoffa wasn't killed, but was living in Birds Landing as part of the federal Witness Protection Program. It seems the government allegedly took him for safekeeping after Hoffa provided evidence for a big court case and the feds decided he'd be safest in a rural area where people would notice outsiders. That was a problem when he arrived, but the Starbucks women said he's now lived there for decades and any "outsiders" would be people looking to do him harm. Hoffa is 113. I don't know if he lives in Birds Landing, but it sounds right.

The eternal tires were invented (and hidden) here. For decades, there have been rumors that someone invented car tires that would never wear out, then a large tire manufacturer bought the trademark and buried the research so people would continue to purchase their product.

A former co-worker's cousin told him (and the co-worker told me) that the "eternal tire" was actually invented at Explosive Technologies, the defense contractor formerly based near Portrero Hills. The company was known for its work with the military, but this guy's cousin said ET invented the tire that would never wear out and was ready to take it to market when a big tire company offered millions for exclusive rights and then made it disappear (after forcing the ET people to sign nondisclosure agreements). I don't know if the story is true, but it might be.

Moon landing was staged at Mare Island. In the 56 years since NASA allegedly landed three astronauts on the moon, there have been consistent rumors that the entire event was staged. Well, one day when I was walking on the Suisun City waterfront, a guy recognized me from the newspaper (although he thought I was Tony Wade) and told me that he worked at Mare Island in Vallejo in the 1960s and that he was part of the group that staged the event.

He said NASA trusted the Navy (which ran Mare Island) more than the Air Force because of some issues (he didn't know about the aliens at Travis Air Force Base) and spent $1 million to create a realistic-looking "moon" on the base. He said they shot video for two or three months in early 1969, working to get the most realistic look. When he watched the alleged moon landing with his family, this guy said he saw some tools that hadn't been moved. I don't know if that's true, but it might be.

Reach Brad Stanhope at bradstanhope@outlook.com.

What decade of life is the best? It depends on how old you are when you answer

What's the best decade of life?

Is it the first 10 years, when you rely on adults to do things for you (which is sometimes not a good thing) and go to school, but don't have a job?

Is it your 20s, when you're making your way into the world, still have some teenlike energy, but are starting to realize that life isn't easier when you get to make all the decisions (including, for many of us, the requirement that you earn money regularly)?

Is it your 50s, when your kids may be leaving the house, you're possibly at your professional peak, but still a ways from retirement?

Is it your 60s or 70s, when you may no longer need to work, but have aches and pains that didn't exist before and have more medical appointments and less energy than expected?

Is it your teen years, when . . . no, probably not. Forget that.

Well, according to a recent survey of Americans by the people at YouGov, the most popular choice as the best decade is your 20s–but only 22% of respondents picked that. Another 20% picked the 30s, which means that nearly 60% of us wouldn't choose our 20s or 30s as the best decade.

The 20s have a good case. For most of us, that's when we really cut ties with our parents, begin our careers, start having more serious relationships and can still get by on three hours of sleep when needed. It's a hybrid of being a teenager (a kid) and someone in their 30s (a full-fledged adult).

But . . . I remember my 20s as also being scary and intimidating as I realized I was responsible for myself (I married at 22, so Mrs. Brad and I experienced that together). It's also a time when many of us start making "real money," only to realize it's still not enough.

In our 30s, many people start families, advance in their careers and still (incorrectly) think they could pass for 20.

This question really measures what we value. Is it energy and (perhaps unreasonable) expectations of the future? Then we like younger decades. Do we value stability and consistency? We may value later years.

Women, interestingly, are more likely to value decades after 30 – perhaps because they don't have the inaccurate memories that men have of how cool they were when they were young.

However, the most interesting takeaway from this survey (which also asked which was the worst decade, with 10-19 winning narrowly) is this: For every age cohort except one, the favorite decade was the one in which the respondents were living.

In other words, people in their 20s think the 20s are the best. People in their 30s think the 30s are the best. And so on, to people in their 70s thinking the 70s are the best.

The only exception was people in their 50s, who narrowly chose the 20s but had their 50s as their second choice.

There's a lot to digest here: What makes a decade great? How important is energy and how important is experience (and hopefully, wisdom coming along with it)? Who are the 1% of teens surveyed who think the best decade of life is the 70s and why do they think that?

The best takeaway is that Americans are surprisingly optimistic. In a world where we're so often discontent and where so much of culture seems designed to teach us that we'd be happier if we just had something else or were older or were younger, most of us think the decade in which we're living is the best one of our lives.

Reach Brad Stanhope at bradstanhope@outlook.com.

Kali Uchis, mayonnaise, Raleigh and other mispronounced words

The most mispronounced word for Californians in 2025 – based on a study of Google searches – was one I've never heard and would undoubtedly mispronounce: Kali Uchis.

If you said "Kali Uchis" to me, I'd likely think it was the name of a member of Destiny's Child or a social media influencer ("Did you know that Kali Uchis has 100 million followers on her TikTok channel?"). Or maybe an exotic food ("I'll have the Kali Uchis with avocado on the side")

Instead, Kali Uchis is apparently a . . . wait a minute, Kali Uchis is a singer! Who knew? I was making a joke and it turns out I was right! According to Google, Kali Uchis is a singer-songwriter who won a Grammy Award in 2021 and has won multiple awards since then. Presumably, my kids and grandchildren know Kali Uchis, while I'm suggesting she's a food.

My apologies, Kali.

Anyway, the people at unscrambler.com (your source to get eggs back in their shells) released a list in late 2025 of the most mispronounced words in each state. As always, it's instructive to see what those words are, but it's more fun to ridicule states where people search Google to learn how to pronounce common words. 

Because it seems reasonable to me that people in my state don't know how to pronounce Kali Uchis, but it's insane that people in Iowa have to ask how to pronounce dachshund (do they think it's DAUSH-und? Have they never heard the word?) or that people in Minnesota need to Google how to pronounce thyme ("Could you get me some Thime?" "Sure. And here's some 'jarlic' to go with it.").

Any comparison of states leads us to find other states that are somehow worse than ours (most common stereotype: Mississippi is always last. But in this case, the word Mississippians most searched to learn how to pronounce was chinoiserie [SHIN-wah-zuh-ree], which I also presume is another member of Destiny's Child).

This year, the most mystifying state is North Carolina, where people most searched for how to pronounce Raleigh, which is both easy to say and is the capital city of the state (I guess they needed to decide if it's Rah-lay or Rah-lee?). That's like Californians searching for how to pronounce Sacramento. Come on, North Carolina! You can be better! 

Other states were amusing, such as Wyoming (which needed help for "mayonnaise") and Virginia (which needed help for "adolescence" – often pronounced "teen.").

Of course, this isn't science. It's Google and reflects the number of people who search "how to pronounce . . .", which is likely a subset of our nation featuring  people who want to say words correctly and don't know how to say mayonnaise or Raleigh.

The national list may be more helpful. The most-searched "how do I pronounce" words across the nation were gyro (I could use some help), Worcestershire sauce (I say "sauce"), acai (which I get wrong 75% of the time) and Qatar (which Google says is pronounced "KAH-ter" and I say as "CUT-ter.").

What's the takeaway? Well, there are a few:

1. There's no shame in asking how to pronounce a word.

2. Many words are not pronounced the way you'd think, so "sounding it out" doesn't always work.

3. At least you can pronounce mayonnaise and Raleigh without having to Google them.

Oh, and one more. Kali Uchis is pronounced KAH-lee OO-chees.

Reach Brad Stanhope at bradstanhope@outlook.com.

Mrs. Brad and the simpleton install a new medicine cabinet

Mrs. Brad and I were about 45 minutes into installing a new medicine cabinet in our bathroom when I had an obvious question: How in the world can people enjoy doing this kind of thing? Are they insane?

I suspect the answer is yes. Mrs. Brad disagrees, saying it's not crazy, it's fun.

Frustration is fun? Realizing the directions make no sense is fun? Thinking there's a stud in the wall where there isn't one is fun? Looking for obscure tools for Mrs. Brad is fun?

Mrs. Brad is undisputably in charge of any fix-it jobs around our house. She's an engineer and elite at handyman projects. I'm pretty sure she enjoys it more when something doesn't work, requiring her to be creative.

In other words, she's the opposite of me. That's why she generally (always) does things like installing a new toilet or kitchen sink, changing shower heads or building a Frankenstein-level exercise bike without me. In fact, I'm usually gone when those things happen, which is good for both of us.

However, I was required to help install the new medicine cabinet because it was seven weeks after she had back surgery and Mrs. Brad was under strict orders to not lift heavy objects, twist her back or do anything that might jeopardize her recovery. However, we needed the new medicine cabinet because . . . um . . . she decided we needed one because . . . I don't really remember. Was this one bigger? I think that was the reason.

Anyway, she ordered it, had it delivered, then we went about installing it. I was the muscle; she was the brains. Only one of us was really equipped for our role.

However, I took down the old medicine cabinet (simple! I removed two screws and it came down) and removed the mirrors (simple! I lifted them off the hooks and set them gently on our bed).

Then came the inevitable confusion. The directions were unclear (as always, they involved lines and letters and confusing arrows), which mystified me, but challenged Mrs. Brad.

We installed one existing mirror (following the old saying, "measure twice, something blah blah blah") and went about putting up the new, bigger, better medicine cabinet.

Mrs. Brad explained what we'd do (making me practice how the brackets would fit under the cabinet) and we were rolling. Until what always happens happened.

Attaching the top didn't go as planned. I was on a stool and installed the first bracket for that purpose, but where we thought there was a stud ("we thought" means "Mrs. Brad thought." I was too busy thinking of dumb jokes about the word "stud"), there was just drywall. We inserted anchors for the brackets (she had several in her tool kit), but that didn't work. Mrs. Brad (forbidden to bend over) had me get various tools, including a power drill. Nothing worked. We couldn't secure the top. Would our new medicine cabinet and mirrors come crashing down?

Mrs. Brad decided to take charge, rather than have me follow her directions. I got her a stepladder and she climbed to have a look, then started doing something I didn't understand. But she was on the ladder, bent forward and muscling something in.

I didn't like the idea. I could do it. She was in recovery. She just needed to tell me what to do.

Finally, after about five minutes, I said, "This makes me nervous. Why don't you let me do it?" and she replied with the clearest explanation of my role: "No. This isn't simple."

Oh. So I'm capable of only doing the simple things. I'm a simpleton. I was insulted . . . until I realized it was true. Still, I didn't want her to get hurt. I spotted her, like I learned how to do during gymnastics in middle-school PE class (something useful from eighth grade!). Ultimately, she anchored the medicine cabinet. It was attached.

All that remained was the kind of stuff that even I – the simpleton – could do: Install the shelves, attach mirrors to the sides and put our stuff in there.

We got it done. As Mrs. Brad pointed out, we didn't argue. I told her my theory about the insanity of loving to do home improvement projects. She disagreed.

I'm pretty sure that I'm right, but then again, I'm simple.

Reach Brad Stanhope at bradstanhope@outlook.com.

10 guaranteed predictions for an eventful 2026

Do you realize we're entering the last half of the 2020s? 

Actually, that's untrue.  As I recently realized, we entered the last half of the decade on Jan. 1, 2025 – presuming you aren't one of those maniacs who believe a decade ends with a year that ends with 0 (those people had quite a run at the end of the last century, when they insisted the millennium didn't end until the end of 2000, rather than the end of 1999. I blame them for everything bad that's happened since). The first half of the 2020s included 2020, 2021, 2022, 2023 and 2024.

Anyway, it's a new year and (unless you're an extremist), it's the seventh (!) year in the 2020s. As such, it's incumbent on me to give you a preview of what's to come as we continue the most insane decade since the 1960s (that decade included the assassinations of JFK, Martin Luther King Jr., Bobby Kennedy, Malcolm X and more; the Vietnam War and related protests; the Cuban Missile Crisis; the moon landing; Woodstock and more. It tops Trump, COVID, Trump, Trump and Trump. Barely).

With that in mind, let's kick off 2026 with 10 guaranteed predictions, some of which are personalized.

1. This is the year that you keep your vow to eat better and exercise more. You'll end 2026 healthier and more optimistic than ever. Or maybe not. Maybe you won't even make a vow. One of those will happen.

2. After 2025's mild summer and a mild start to winter, we'll have a wild-weather 2026, with spring floods followed by an early and hot summer that will break records. Or perhaps not. Maybe it will be another mild winter and summer. Or a normal one. Who knows? One of those is likely true.

3. In a related matter, the winter weather will lead state-level fire and weather people to issue warnings that it could be a really bad fire season because there was either too much or too little rain. No matter what happens, we're always warned about that.

4. Re-read the previous paragraph and insert the word "flu" for "fire." And ignore the parts about rain.

5. NBA superstar LeBron James will drop hints every month over the rest of the season that this will be his last season, but will deny that's what he's doing while he's dropping even more hints. In late summer, he'll announce that he's returning to the Lakers on a cheaper contract. Or perhaps not. Maybe he retires, maybe he plays somewhere else. One of those will likely happen.

6. You'll spend too much time worrying about and considering the ramifications of November's midterm elections, which could flip control of the House of Representatives (or perhaps even the Senate) to Democrats. Or you won't. One of those is true.

7. On July 4, America will celebrate its 250th birthday with celebrations and joy and unity, showing a new sense of a national purpose. Or not. This one I'm pretty sure is a "not." In fact, I'm sure it's a "not." So disregard this and re-read the prediction about the fire season.

8. Netflix, Amazon Prime, Peacock, YouTube and other streaming services will continue to collect the rights to show live sports and entertainment programming, making us pay hundreds of dollars a month to see what we used to be able to see on 100 (or fewer) cable channels. Then they'll create new bundle packages that allow you to watch what you want without spending all that money. Or that won't happen. No, it probably won't happen, but this is slightly more likely than a shared sense of national purpose on July 4.

9. This year you'll get organized and have a plan that minimizes the stress of the holidays by paying attention all year and getting the perfect early for the people who matter most in your life. Or not, with you going to the mall on Amazon in a desperate search for an acceptable gift at the last minute. One of those or something in between will be true.

10. The biggest news story of 2026 will be something that is not on our radar at all right now, but 365 days from now, we'll consider it the defining thing of the year. I don't have an alternate for this prediction, because it's a lock.

Reach Brad Stanhope at bradstanhope@outlook.com.

It's that time again: How well do you know Solano County?

It's a tradition unlike any other . . . except the Masters golf tournament, Macy's Thanksgiving Day parade, July 4 fireworks, the Dodgers outbidding everyone for free agents, that family member who always has a great new idea that really isn't great, people complaining about the government some other things.

But it's a tradition. It's time for my annual Solano County knowledge quiz, which originated when I started writing this column in 1935 as a way to supplement my income during the Great Depression (which, honestly, wasn't all that great). It's 20 questions about Solano County. You may know the answer to some, most or (probably not) all.

Away we go, with the 2025 version (which, as always, contains some familiar questions):

1. Name Solano County's seven cities.

2. What five counties share a border with Solano County?

3. Within five degrees, what is the average high temperature in Fairfield in January?

4. What three members of the House of Representatives represent Solano County?

5. Within 10 miles, what is the distance on Interstate 80 from the eastern border between Dixon and Davis and the western border past Vallejo?

6. Within 10 years, in what year was Suisun City incorporated?

7. What was the largest agricultural crop (by dollars) in Solano County in 2024?

8. Who is the man who would risk his neck for his brother man?

9. Which of Vacaville's prisons has more inmates, California State Prison Solano or the California Medical Facility?

10. When was the last presidential election in which Solano County voted Republican?

11. Fairfield is larger in terms of geography than Suisun City. Is it eight times (or more) larger?

12. Allan Witt Park is the largest community park in Fairfield. Who was Allan Witt?

13. Within three years, in what year did Rancho Solano golf course open?

14. What is the largest (in terms of student body population) school in the Fairfield-Suisun Unified School District?

15. Who is older, Tony Wade or Kelvin Wade?

16. Catherine Moy is the mayor of Fairfield. Who were the three previous mayors?

17. What is the name of the independent minor league baseball team in Vallejo?

18. Within 20,000, what was the population of Solano County in 2020?

19. Within 400 miles, what's the distance from Fairfield, California, to Fairfield, Connecticut by road?

20. According to Zillow, is the average value of a home in Fairfield more than $600,000?

ANSWERS

1. In alphabetical order: Benicia, Dixon, Fairfield, Rio Vista, Suisun City, Vacaville, Vallejo.

2. Contra Costa, Napa, Sonoma, Sacramento, Yolo.

3. 56.6 degrees, which seems high.

4.  Mike Thompson (D–St. Helena), Doris Matsui (D–Sacramento) and John Garamendi (D–Walnut Grove).

5. 42 miles.

6. 1868.

7. Almonds, with a gross production value of $78.45 million.

8. John Shaft.

9. California State Prison Solano, with about 3,700 inmates. CMF has approximately 2,100 inmates.

10. 1984 (Ronald Reagan)

11. Yes. Fairfield is more than nine times larger than Suisun City.  Fairfield is 37.6 square miles and Suisun City is 4.1 square miles. 

12. A longtime city councilman (and one-term mayor) from the late 1940s to early 1970s. Also a barber.

13. 1990.

14. Rodriguez High, with an enrollment of more than 2,000 students.

15. Tony, by two years.

16. Harry Price, Karin McMillian, George Pettygrove.

17. Seaweed.

18. 453,491

19. 2,915 miles.

20. No. A December Zillow report said the average home in Fairfield was valued at $595,621.

SCORING

0-4: I hope one of your correct answers was the Shaft question.

5-9: Solid. These are difficult.

10-14: Outstanding. You're either a history expert or you're like the next group.

15-20: You cheated by looking at the answers first.

Reach Brad Stanhope at bradstanhope@outlook.com.

Ranking the best sports-related gifts of childhood

There are few years when Christmas is the best. Santa is at his peak, you remember the traditions and the season seems to take forever before the magical morning when you open presents.

You can make the case that Christmas is most magical when you're 4 or 5.

Giftwise, though, I nominate ages 10 to 12 as peak Christmas. That's when you have an idea of the source of those gifts, but you also have some things you really want but see no path to getting them other than at Christmas. You're too young to work and in my day, parents didn't randomly buy us anything except food.

My best childhood gifts were always (always!) sports related. I wasn't a great athlete, but boy did I love sports. Even more, I loved the stuff that went with sports and the only way I could get those things (which weren't that expensive, but beyond 10-year-old Brad's budget) was as Christmas gifts.

With no further ado, here's a countdown of 10 sports-related Christmas gifts of my childhood, providing a window into what my parents had to seek out during those years and their hits and misses. This list doesn't include sports games (Electric Football, Monday Night Football, APBA baseball), but actual sports-related equipment.

10. Raiders rain poncho. My stepmom got it for me shortly after marrying my dad. I hated the Raiders. I loved the 49ers, but I'm sure she thought, "Oh, it's a football thing. He'll love this!" and I had to play along. For the next few years, I wore it only during downpours. Otherwise, I'd suffer wet clothes before putting on that silver-and-black monstrosity.

9. Generic football jersey. Same era as the poncho. It was yellow with brown numbers and some green. I remember thinking maybe it was a knockoff of the Steelers or the Packers, but couldn't tell. It was No. 15, so I thought maybe it was Bart Starr? I wore it, but hoped no one would ask me who it was, because that was impossible to answer.

8. Nerf football. I love all Nerf products and was thrilled to get this. A Nerf football! It wouldn't hurt to catch! I could actually grip it! The Christmas morning joy and the longevity of the gift suggests it should go higher on the list, but the fact that it rained constantly in my hometown meant that when I left it outside, it would get waterlogged and weigh five pounds for a month (an 11-year-old boy couldn't really wring it out well), moves it down.

7. Baseball mitt. Few things are more thrilling than your first real baseball mitt and mine came at about age 8 or 9, when I was in Little League. It's not higher because I rarely had someone with whom to play catch (this list is probably explaining why) and other gifts are better for the lone 10-year-old on a dreary June afternoon. That mitt did catch a lot of "grounders" courtesy of throwing of a tennis ball off the garage, though.

6. Shoulder pads. Perhaps the least practical gift on the list (did I really need shoulder pads to play football in the yard with my friends?), but so cool. I would occasionally put them on and spend 45 seconds tugging a T-shirt over them just for the experience. White, cheap plastic shoulder pads seem cool even now.

5. Wiffle ball and bat. I loved this sport as a kid and have written about it previously (actually, my research indicates I've written about wiffle ball 12 times (!), but the linked column is about my wiffle ball peak). Getting the combination of the yellow plastic bat and a few wiffle balls was great. The only reasons it's not higher on the list is that Christmas isn't in baseball season and I could go to a local hardware store and buy them with a few bucks.

4. Red, white and blue headband and wrist bands. Those sweatbands stayed with me for years as I played on our driveway basketball court in 52-degree weather (which does not make you sweat). I loved basketball. I thought sweatbands were a necessity to be a cool player. I don't know if I ever washed them, which may have been a mistake. I'll ask my sisters.

3. Football kicking tee. This probably wasn't expensive, but must have been hard to find. An orange kicking tee with ridges so you could adjust the angle of the ball? Perfect. I found a  2-by-4 board and draped it across two trees that bordered my backyard and spent many afternoons practicing field goals (soccer style kicker!), often with the aforementioned Nerf football. I probably made 5% of the kicks from about 15 yards away, so more time was spent retrieving the ball.

2. Nerfhoop. Every kid I knew wanted one. This was a perfect year-round gift, because I hung it on the door from our family room (the former garage) and could shoot jumpers, free throws and the inevitable dunks. My stepmom and sisters probably told me 1,000 times to keep quiet, but I was dunking! With a red, white and blue headband on! They didn't understand cool.

1. Red, white and blue basketball. Was my obsession with red, white and blue basketball gear more inspired by the nation's bicentennial or by the American Basketball Association? Well, I read magazines and books that included George McGinnis and not George Washington, so make your guess. I'll never forget coming out Christmas morning, seeing a squarish package addressed to me, picking it up and feeling the basketball treads. Yes! Weather didn't affect this; I could play basketball in the rain. No gift of my childhood was used with more frequency than that red, white and blue basketball.

Reach Brad Stanhope at bradstanhope@outlook.com.