Should we be concerned that pizza-like Mercury is shrinking?

Our smallest neighbor continues to shrink, like your great-uncle who was 5-foot-4 and 125 pounds the last time you saw him.

No offense to your uncle. There's nothing wrong with being 5-4, 125. But if you used to be 5-8, 175, that's a fair amount of shrinkage. If you disagree, ask Mercury.

The innermost planet in our solar system is not only shrinking (shrinking!), it's shriveling at a faster rate than previously thought. It's like Mercury took GLP-3 drugs and is now back to the same size it was when it was a high school sophomore.

Scientists working at the German Aerospace Center's Institute of Space Research (which those of us in the space game called GACISR, pronounced "Gack-us-sir) – last month said that Mercury was shrinking at as much as a 30% faster rate than previously thought and that it had lost up to 14 miles in diameter. That's the greatest loss in diameter since Adele or John Goodman dropped weight, depending on which offends you less.

Part of the planet's size loss is due to constant bombardment by debris, similar to the plight of bad performers during Vaudeville (a 100-year-old pop culture reference!). But the bigger impact of that bombardment is that it hid the loss of size, kind of like wearing a Mumu after you've dropped 20 pounds on a starvation diet.

Very few spacecraft have visited Mercury, mostly due to the planet's high temperature and concern over getting Mercury poisoning (get it?). To be fair, part of the reason for our lack of visitation is also due to Mercury's terrible tourism advertisements, which proclaim "come to Mercury and see if you can survive 0.000001 seconds in our toxic atmosphere!"

Mercury has been shrinking since its formation, 4.5 billion years ago. That's because it has an incredibly hot core (Mercury's core is the same temperature as pizza sauce fresh out of the oven). The heat isn't what makes it shrink; it's the cooling, which is only due to the heat, so never mind.

As the hot core has cooled over the millennia and megaanna (a new word! It means millions of years), the mantle and crust (another similarity to pizza sauce: Mercury's core touches a crust!) keep tightening, making the planet like someone wearing Spandex pants that are two sizes too small.

The concern is that Mercury could either get so tight that it explodes or shrink so much that it needs help to reach the top shelf to get a Mars bar (planet joke! The first-ever planet column I've written without a "Uranus" joke!)

On the other hand, Mercury is only about 3,000 miles across, so the14-mile shrinkage is the equivalent of a 200-pound person losing nearly a pound. Maybe it's not a big concern.

But scientists seem excited and fascinated. They haven't been this engaged since they kicked Pluto out of the solar system for gambling (I can't remember if that's the cause, but I think so).

An article on Mercury's shrinkage, published by NBC, quoted Japanese scientist Gaku Nishiyama, who is part of a team researching Mercury. “We are quite excited,” Nishiyama was quoted as saying, adding that “we are approaching the reality of Mercury’s evolution.”

Here's the reality of Mercury's evolution: Like most things that get really old, it is shrinking. Unless I'm badly mistaken, I suspect Mercury also is having a harder time hearing conversations in busy restaurants, has to get up in the middle of the night to go to the bathroom and often wonders what caused various aches and pains.

I hope Mercury doesn't merely waste away to nothing, but it's had a 4.5-million-year run, which is pretty good. And when you think about it, if you have to lose a planet, would you rather use Mercury or Uranus?

I was so close to breaking the Uranus joke streak!

Reach Brad Stanhope at bradstanhope@outlook.com.

El Niño will be terrible. Or not. The story of a 'weather event'

 

As you have heard, we're entering a Super El Niño season, with equatorial Pacific Ocean water temperatures 4 to 6 degrees warmer than usual.

That might cause a significantly wetter winter than usual for the West Coast, based on the history of El Niño events (this is the biggest El Niño since at least 1950!). Unless it results in a regular winter. It could also mean less rain than usual. It's hard to tell, but we know one thing: SUPER EL NIÑO IS COMING.

I'm not here to make fun of scientists (they don't need anyone to make fun of them. Scientists already wear pocket protectors and safety goggles, even when writing an incredibly complex math equation on an old-school green chalkboard, if the cartoons are any indication). Scientists are important. They find cures for diseases and explain how the universe works.

And climatologists – academics who study the weather, as well as those on TV who remind us, "don't forget your umbrella! There might be a few sprinkles during the morning commute!" – have made dramatic improvements in our understanding of and preparation for hurricanes, floods, blizzards, heat waves and tornadoes.

But while doing that, they apparently gather every few years to invent new phrases to describe routine events.

To be clear, El Niño isn't a "routine event," although it's possible that "Super El Niño" is a fake phrase.

If so, it would join myriad wonky weather phrases invented in the past 20 years. For instance, I mentioned to Mrs. Brad during the October heat wave that people were probably wondering when the heat dome would break. She looked at me like I was making up words. She'd never heard "heat dome."

How is that possible? Every time there's a heat wave, journalists and climatologists talk about a heat dome, which apparently means the same thing as a "heat wave," but refers to . . . I don't know, maybe a hot football stadium? Is the Heat Dome the name of the NFL stadium in Phoenix? I definitely hear or read that phrase every time there's a heat wave.

Heat dome isn't alone. Remember when we used to have rainy days? Now we have "atmospheric rivers," which sounds more dramatic. And means the same thing.

More broadly, every time there's a windstorm, rainstorm or heat wave, it's called a "weather event," which means the same thing as "weather." (In this case, "event" is similar to "process," which former Daily Republic ace reporter Ryan McCarthy held in disdain. Ryan insisted "process" was rarely if ever needed. It wasn't "interview process," it was "interviews." It wasn't "budgetary process," it was "budgeting.")

"Weather events" are just weather. And the thing about weather is that it changes. While I appreciate that those who use science to predict the weather have gotten better at warning us of potential dangers (heck, for the coming Super El Niño, I'll probably . . . uh . . . buy an umbrella), the constant invention of more dramatic words to describe things for which there are already descriptors is amusing.

Maybe we should just lean into it. Why stop with "weather event" and "atmospheric river" and "heat dome?" For years, I advocated calling those warm easterly winds we get in the autumn (which are called "Santa Ana winds" in Southern California) "Rio Vista winds." Alas, no one followed my lead.

But as we prepare for the Super El Niño, maybe we should add some other weather phrases. Here are my suggestions and how they would be used:

Windy: "As the high pressure recedes, expect a Zypher wall, with winds up to 30 mph in Fairfield-Suisun."

Sunny: "Look for a significant solar event, with our closest dwarf star shining in all its glory."

Morning frost: "We expect plenty of  ground crystallization in the early morning hours, which should give way as we get another solar event."

High humidity: "Expect a sticky wicket Tuesday, as a weather system moves through with remnants of an atmospheric river in the Pacific."

Low humidity: "We face aridity syndrome this weekend, with the possibility of a Super Dry event."

Like it or not, the Super El Niño weather event is coming and atmospheric rivers are possible this winter. Or maybe not. Or perhaps we'll get enough rain to know it's winter, but not enough to determine whether the Super El Niño played a role.

Just wait until next year, though. We may have a La Niña, which means . . . well, it will certainly cause a weather event and likely some new phrases.

Reach Brad Stanhope at bradstanhope@outlook.com.

If you're slightly speeding, you're normal(ish)

Congratulations, you're normal.

When you drive 75 mph on Interstate 80 in one of the two "slow" lanes, you're regular.

When you go 65 mph on Highway 12 to Napa or to Rio Vista, you're typical.

Speeding (in certain situations) is normal!

According to a survey from the AAA Foundation for Traffic Safety (AAAFTS, since apparently every organization needs an acronym), most drivers agree that posted speed limits are appropriate, but they also consider anything within 10 mph of that limit to be OK. (Didn't you think that was the rule, that you wouldn't get a ticket unless you were doing more than 10 mph over the speed limit? I did until about the third time I got a ticket for 10 mph over the limit.)

Furthermore, about half of drivers surveyed think keeping pace with traffic is safer than obeying the posted speed limit. Those people probably yell at someone for driving 60 mph on I-80 as we swerve to get around them. (Did I say "we" in the second half of the sentence? Oops!)

An article about the speeding survey appeared in the Insurance Journal (I have a group subscription to Ladies Home Journal, the Wall Street Journal, Insurance Journal and the official magazine of the Federal Association of Plumbers, the Urinal Journal. Hahahaha. Hilarious!)

The Insurance Journal, of course, was concerned about the fact that most of us consider a 65 mph speed zone to really mean "about 75 mph." And that we want to move with the flow of traffic, rather than slow everyone down.

Insurance people don't like normal people.

However, there was some good news for those concerned about speed: Most drivers are fine with more police presence in areas with a history of speed-related crashes, including the often-maligned traffic cameras. They also like those in-vehicle warnings that alert drivers when they exceed the speed limit.

But staying with the flow of traffic or going up to 10 mph over the limit is OK.

Personally, I wish I had this data when I was in my 20s and 30s, an era in which I received 10 speeding tickets. Yes, 10.

I wasn't a speed demon. Really. I was mostly inattentive in a way that led to me not realizing police were watching me go 35 mph in a 25 mph zone or 65 mph in a 55 mph zone.

Nine of my 10 tickets were for going 10 mph over the speed limit (the exception: I got caught going 40 mph on the 25-mph "Armijo curve" of Texas Street). I was once ticketed while driving on Interstate 40 from by a California Highway Patrol officer who told me he'd been following me for 10 miles and wouldn't have stopped me if I slowed down. I told him I never saw him (likely because I was listening to music or talking with Mrs. Brad, who wasn't amused).

Had this survey been around back in the day, I would have used it in one of the several times I challenged my tickets. "Your Honor, I am just like most people. Everyone goes 65 mph in 55 mph zones, according to a survey. I ask for dismissal."

Alas, that opportunity never came. I lost every appeal (including one where I was ticketed after a plane indicated to an officer on the ground in Mendocino County that I was speeding. What I actually was doing was trying to get around a fully packed VW bus that was consistently crossing the line between the two southbound lanes, making it unsafe for me to slowly pass. Unfortunately, I made my appeal by letter and was turned down.).

I'm not saying speeding is right. It's dangerous and you shouldn't do it. However, the evidence suggests that most of us think it's OK if we're not racing past everyone.

Also, sometimes, the police aren't monsters. They sometimes let you go despite an infraction.

It rarely happened to me, but the last time I was pulled over – about 15 years ago in Suisun City – it did. I  pulled from Marina Boulevard onto Highway 12, heading to work, when there were suddenly flashing lights in my rearview mirror.

The officer came to the window, asked for my license and registration and then asked what they always ask: "Do you know why I pulled you over?"

I was ready this time. "Yeah, I was on my phone. Sorry. I shouldn't have done that."

"Oh, you were on your phone? I didn't know that. I pulled you over because you rolled through the stoplight."

Oops.

Amazingly, he let me go with a warning. Perhaps he'd talked to friends who told them about all the times they wrote me up for going 10 mph over the limit Or maybe he knew the results of this survey 15 years early.

Reach Brad Stanhope at bradstanhope@outlook.com.

How we survived Hawai'i's Labor Day Storm of 2026

Hawai'i is supposed to be a paradise. It's not supposed to be more blustery than the windiest day in Fairfield and Suisun City.

Well, there we were, Mrs. Brad and I on a trip to Oahu in early September. That's when Hurricane Lowell skated across the Pacific Ocean, narrowly missing Kaua'i, but causing extensive damage to that island.

We weren't on Kaua'i, but we were close enough that we experienced what was then classified as Tropical Storm Lowell – a wild weather event with huge winds over Labor Day night. Spoiler alert: It wasn't paradise.

First, a disclaimer: We aren't victims. We were in Hawai'i, after all – not everyone can do that. Also, we didn't get hurt and have no financial responsibility to repair damage caused by the winds. We were just two Californians who wondered how long the power would be out and whether the windows of our Airbnb home would withstand the winds.

Having lived in Suisun City for three decades, I'm familiar with wind. I'm also familiar with windstorms, which seem worse in Solano County than most places. I have laid in bed many nights, wondering whether my fence would be standing in the morning. We had fences blown down. We had our basketball standard crash forward.

My most compelling major storm memory is of hurricane-force winds in December 1988, a massive storm that roared and shook windows. During the height of the storm, several storefront windows in downtown Fairfield blew out, as did windows at the Solano Mall. The Solano Drive-In's screen was destroyed (and never replaced, unless you consider the Raleys that stands on that site on North Texas Street a "replacement").

Most important to the then-sports editor, the games at the Ed Hopkins Classic basketball tournament at Armijo High were postponed. Trees fell across the roads. A shed near my house in Suisun City was blown into a tree.

It was a whopper of a storm.

Perhaps the Oahu Labor Day Storm of 2026 (as I call it) wasn't that bad, but it felt like it.

Mrs. Brad and I knew problems were looming, as residents warned us to store water and have food available in case of a power outage or water shutoff. The latter never happened, but the power went out at about 8:30 p.m. Monday night.

During a major power outage, you realize how much you depend on electricity. It was dark at 8:30 p.m., but we weren't ready for bed. So we stayed up and watched. The winds were slamming our window and getting worse as the night went along. A neighbor's carport roof was screeching as the winds tried to pull it off. Every 20 minutes or so, there would be a loud slam as a large branch (or tree) fell.

Enduring a storm at your own house makes you worry about damage that you have to repair. Enduring a storm at an unfamiliar house makes you worry that a huge branch could come crashing through a window at any time because you didn't pay enough attention to identify nearby trees

Also: A night with a wind storm is a long, long night. On the night of the Labor Day Storm of 2026, neither of us slept well. The following morning, as the winds died down, we groggily walked around the neighborhood and saw the damage. Mostly, it was huge branches that fell, so not bad.

But the power remained out. I worried about the ability to charge my smartphone, which controls my insulin pump (the plan: Use backup batteries to charge it. Use my laptop to charge it. Drive to somewhere with power to charge it.). Fortunately, power came back on about noon, ending the anxiety.

The following days were excessively humid, due to the storm's remnants. But (in Hawai'i, at a rental house, swimming every day in the Pacific ocean while on a vacation), we survived.

Folks in Kaua'i and its tiny neighboring island of Ni'hau weren't so lucky. The saw extensive damage and days without power. Tourists were advised to avoid Kaua'i for the foreseeable future, undoubtedly damaging the island's economy.

Back on Oahu, we endured humidity, had to move some branches and then resumed going to the beach.

What a nightmare!

The Labor Day Storm of 2026 was frightening, but it didn't ruin our vacation.

Now, I guess, I feel like a jerk for overreacting.

Reach Brad Stanhope at bradstanhope@outlook.com.

Solving an important issue: What is the correct distance to wave at someone?

As they told you in elementary school, it's nice to be important, but it's important to be nice.

That's true. Within reason. In a way that doesn't make it awkward.

In my neighborhood, a lot of people walk, which means I routinely cross paths with familiar faces and say hello. Not to talk, generally. Just to acknowledge that someone familiar is walking the other way.

Therein lies the problem – one familiar to anyone who sees someone they (kind of) know on a street or in the grocery store or anywhere while walking: How far away should you be from someone when you acknowledge them?

If you think the answer is simple (maybe "as soon as you see them!"), you're either lucky or unaware of the awkwardness that happens if you greet someone too soon.

The scene: You're walking down the street and see someone you casually know about a block away. If you wave immediately, then you're left with a good 30 seconds or more of walking toward each other after the wave, a time that becomes increasingly uncomfortable for both of you. (Should you wave again? Do you need to talk? What if you're in a hurry? What if you don't want to talk?).

The flip side is when you decide to wait until you're right next to each other. That means pretending you didn't see the person as you get closer, closer, closer, closer . . . and then you wave. Did they think you were pretending not to see them? Did you startle them by greeting them at the last minute? Do they even know who you are (in which case, you come across like an overenthusiastic goober who waves at everyone)?

Switch the same situation to a workplace or the grocery store. You're in Aisle 5 and at the other end of the aisle you see a neighbor you don't know well or the parent of one of your kids' friends or someone you know vaguely from work. You have to acknowledge them or you look like a jerk. But if you wave from one end of the aisle, they might not see you. Or worse, what if they see you and then you gradually, slowly move toward each other? Now, do you need to talk, since you waved so eagerly?

Alternatively, if you wait, it seems like you're jumping up to startle them: "Hey! It's me! Brad! Your neighbor!" Then they feel assaulted.

Am I overthinking this? If not, is there a solution? And what is it?

First of all, ignoring others is not the solution. Don't be the person who knows me, sees me and ignores me. Then I think that you think you're too cool for me.

However, being overly aggressive isn't the solution either. There's no requirement that you greet everyone who you think you might know. "Hey, it's me. I saw you at the intersection the other day in your car while I was in my car!" is not sane.

But for the people you know enough that you should greet them? The answer, like most of life, is a math problem. (Example to prove that point: What is the best dessert? Well, would you look at that! It's pi!)

The solution: First of all, the correct time between when you wave and when you pass someone is three to five seconds. Longer than that is awkward, shorter is likely to startle the other person.

If you and the other person both walk at a normal speed (2 mph to 4 mph) and you're coming down a regular city block, my calculations (using an AI tool) is that you should wave when you're about 35 feet apart for there to be a four-second gap.

How do you figure 35 feet? Well, a normal human is between 5 feet and 6 feet (yeah, I said it. People who are taller than 6 feet are abnormal!), so 35 feet is about the length of six people, end to end. When a person is that far away, wave.

Grocery stores are a different matter. We walk slower and often stop. Based on the normal length of a grocery store aisle, it's appropriate to acknowledge the person coming the other way when you're slightly less than a half-aisle apart. That can be four seconds if you don't stop and spend five minutes trying to find the right kind of soup. (Correct answer: Minestrone. Because it kind of has "minus" in it. Again: Math!)

If you really want to get specific, I'd suggest this: Next time you're walking, clock someone coming the other direction. Guess when you're four seconds (the sweet spot) apart and then count. Then make adjustments for your speed. Problem solved.

Next time you wave at someone,  you'll thank me. And if you see me walking, you can tell me that. At the appropriate time, of course.

Reach Brad Stanhope at bradstanhope@outlook.com.

The unofficial rules for jumping on another team's bandwagon

We're entering the greatest part of the annual sports schedule. The NFL and college football seasons are under way. The baseball playoffs are almost here. Next month, the NBA and NHL start their seasons.

It's a great time to be a fan, but it's also a great time to decide what to do if your team isn't good.

As noted Raiders fan Scar sang in "The Lion King:" "Be prepared!"

If you're a baseball team whose team won't make the playoffs, do it now. If you're a Las Vegas Raiders fan, know that it's coming soon. If you're a Golden State Warriors, Sacramento Kings or San Jose Sharks fan, it's never too early to think about what team should you pick in several months when the playoffs finally arrive.

It's confusing, right? Can you jump on the bandwagon of the San Antonio Spurs, who will be good for a while? Can you be a fan of the Milwaukee Brewers or the Colorado Avalanche or the Dallas Cowboys?

Well, I'm here to help with a series of rules. When you consider a team, answer these questions. If the team you picked passes a series of tests, you can choose them.

There are eight steps to the Stanhope Sports Fan Bandwagon Rules©. When it's time to pick a team to follow (hey Giants and A's fans: It's time now!), follow this path by asking the following questions.

1. Is the team from Los Angeles? If yes, stop now. You cannot be a fan of this team. Not the Rams, not the Lakers, not the Dodgers, not even the Kings, Stars or Clippers. No Los Angeles teams. If the team is not from Los Angeles, they're still alive, but otherwise, start over.

2. Is the team the Dallas Cowboys? No. You can't be a fan. Pick another team (not from Los Angeles) and start over.

3. Is this team a rival of my favorite team or a local team? If yes, you cannot be a fan. If you're a Raiders fan, you can't jump on the Chiefs or Broncos bandwagons. If you're a Giants fan, see question No. 1. If you're a 49ers fan, see questions No. 1, No. 2 and exclude the Seattle Seahawks. If you're a Warriors fan . . . uh, the NBA doesn't have many bitter rivals over the years, so you're probably OK if your bandwagon team fits the other qualifications.

4. Is this team the Raiders? If yes, God bless you. That's not a bandwagon; that's a dump truck. Please seek counseling.

5. Is this team a long-time powerhouse in the sport or does it already have a national following? If you want to jump on the bandwagon of the Yankees or Celtics or Cowboys or Steelers, the answer is no, you cannot be a fan of this team. Start again. Those teams already have plenty of front-running, glory-hogging fans (no offense). Pick another team.

6. Has this team broken your team's heart at some time in the past? You cannot become a fan of a team that ripped out your heart at any time. If you're a Giants fan, for instance, this rules out the Anaheim Angels, who beat them in the 2002 World Series. It also rules out the Colorado Rockies, who couldn't beat the Atlanta Braves in 13 tries in 1993, allowing the Braves to edge the Giants by one stinking game! If you're a Raiders fan, it rules out the New England Patriots (Tuck Rule Game) and Pittsburgh Steelers (Immaculate Reception Game). If your bandwagon team broke your real team's heart, start over.

7. Does this team have a shameful past that it hasn't addressed properly? Consider the Houston Astros with their cheating scandal; the New England Patriots having Tom Brady all that time; the Indianapolis Colts moving from Baltimore in the middle of the night. You cannot be a fan of those teams, so pick another one and start over.

8. Is this team from your geographic area? A surprise twist! This is the reverse of the others, because if the answer is yes, you can absolutely become their fan. I'd even waive the first and second rules for residents of Southern California and the greater Dallas metro area. In fact, the best bandwagon to join is the "local" team that is doing well.

So maybe the approach is to consider No. 8 first and pick a local team. If not, you're free to pick a team that isn't from Los Angeles, isn't the Cowboys, isn't a rival of your favorite team, isn't a longtime powerhouse, hasn't broken your team's heart and doesn't have a shameful past.

Good luck. There aren't many out there, but feel free to jump on a bandwagon. Last year, my Seattle Mariners almost made it to the World Series and my New York Knicks won the NBA championship.

It's fun to be on the bandwagon if you follow the rules.

Reach Brad Stanhope at bradstanhope@outlook.com.

Nostalgia for past includes missing record players and more

They just don't make nostalgia like they used to.

Remember when old people talked about listening to "The Lone Ranger" on the radio? Or recalling when they paid 10 cents to go to the movies on Saturdays? How about when they romanticized played kick the can or stickball?

Ah, the good old days.

They're still here. If you talk to enough older people, you'll hear about playing outside until the street lights came on (not possible where I lived, since there were no streetlights. As far as I can tell, my fellow neighborhood kids are still out there playing, now in their 60s). You'll hear about black-and-white TVs and three TV networks. You'll hear about cars with manual transmissions and people smoking in movie theaters.

Those were the days, my friend.

But listen to people who aren't quite old (a generation younger than me) and you'll likely hear laments about bygone technologies, some of which they're fighting to bring back. Nostalgia now is for how the world operated around 1980 or 1990.

Example No. 1: People miss record players or stereo systems that play vinyl records (spelling challenge for me: I know there's a "y" in vinyl, but often try to put it after the "v." It might be vynil? Vynyl?). According to a recent survey by the YouGov folks, 42% of Americans miss vinyl records and want to use them again and another 27% miss them, but don't necessarily want to do them again. That's 69% of respondents!

Vinyl records are missed. However, they're still available for sale – not just at garage sales and used record stores (arguably the greatest stores of the 1980s). Many artists release new records on vinyl, too – hoping to catch the part of the market that thinks they sound better that way (do they? I have no idea. What I do know is that you can't leave a vinyl record in your car on a hot day without it warping. That's a lesson I learned after ruining three or four albums that cost $7.99 or $9.99 each).

Technology moves very fast: We went from vinyl records to cassettes to CDs to streaming back to vinyl in about 30 years. Other technologies (smartphones, cars) advance even faster. Nostalgia now comes quicker than it did for the kick-the-can generation (who would also tell you about carhops and ration books and World War II).

Life in the 21st century, as Ferris Bueller said 40 years ago (!), moves pretty fast.

Want more insight? YouGov's survey asked what we miss and what we don't. For simplicity sake, I'll combine the figures of the "I miss it and want to use it again" and "I miss it but don't want to use it again" into a catchall category I cleverly call . . . "I miss it."

Using that metric, 59% of us miss CD players (still available at second-hand stores!), 58% of us miss digital cameras, 57% of us miss DVD players and 57% of us miss film cameras.

They all seem great if you don't remember CD and DVD players skipping or when half of your photos were out of focus (in film cameras) or the extra work (carrying around a digital camera).

Some other technologies are missed by more than half of us. At least 50% of the population misses iPods/portable mp3 players (53%), handheld video game consoles (51%) and cassette tape players (51%).

The point isn't that all technology used to be better. It wasn't. Technology almost always advances because we find something better. That's true even if years or decades later, we consider the original better than the replacement.

However, there are some technologies that people are happy to leave behind. It's unsurprising that dial-up internet service, floppy disks and pagers are technologies we're most happy to be rid of, with 81% of us glad to be done with dial-up, 68% of us happy to not have to insert floppy disks or and the same number happy to see a number on a pager, have to find a pay phone and call the person to whom we're selling drugs (I'm guessing here. The only time we used a pager was to know when our first son's birthmother went into labor.).

At least half the population is also happy to be done with fax machines, rotary-dial telephones, non-smartphone cellphones and payphones – a category I call "dumbphones." We love the advance of the smartphone, which is also arguably an improvement over vinyl albums and record players for music. Modern smartphones also address the lack of CD players, DVD players, handheld video game consoles, cassette players, digital cameras and nearly everything else on this list.

I get the nostalgia. Record albums (and used record stores!) felt more real than a streaming device. Digital cameras felt like they gave us more control over our photos.

But when it comes down to it, I'll take my smartphone. To the others? As John Waite sang on a vinyl record that I had and ultimately used a special device to transform into an mp3 for my iPod, "I ain't missing you at all."

Then I left the record in my car and it got warped.

Reach Brad Stanhope at bradstanhope@outlook.com.

We're on the brink of the world's most popular holiday

Labor Day is called a lot of things. The unofficial end of summer. The least patriotic of our three major summer holidays. An overlooked holiday and perhaps the most expendable of the "most people get a day off" holidays.

Here's what most people don't say about Labor Day: It's the most popular holiday in the world.

That's based on the number of people living in countries where variations of Labor Day are a federal holiday. In other words, the first Monday in September isn't the most popular holiday, Labor Day is.

Labor Day topping the widest-celebrated holiday list may come as a surprise in a world where Christmas dominates an entire month and Thanksgiving ushers in what we call "the holiday season." But Thanksgiving and Christmas aren't the most popular holidays in the world. That becomes obvious when you recognize the purpose of each of them.

Thanksgiving is a strange attempt to celebrate thankfulness (a noble cause) by pretending to imitate a meal eaten over a long weekend 405 years ago that was nothing like what we do now. I'm not sure what exactly happened on that first Thanksgiving, but I'm certain the Detroit Lions and Dallas Cowboys didn't have home games that day.

Christmas isn't the most popular holiday because so much of the world isn't culturally Christian. China isn't. Most Arab countries aren't. Just take China (population 1.4 billion) out and you eliminate 17% of the world's population. (Side note: Did you realize that India surpassed China as the world's most populous country? It has 1.5 billion people and moved into the top spot in 2023.)

Anyway, when considering the most popular holiday it's Labor Day. Which is Monday. Except . . .

Well, for most of the world, Labor Day isn't the first Monday in September. For most the world, Labor Day (or Labour Day in places where they spell things wrong) is May 1. May Day.

May Day is a holiday for 5.8 billion people across the globe, edging out Christmas, which is a holiday for 5.5 million people. Add our Labor Day to the May Day total and you're past 6 billion celebrants.

So Labor Day is the biggest holiday in the world. Here in the United States and in Canada, it's celebrated in September, while England doesn't celebrate it at all, apparently still in the clutches of the pre-conversion Ebeneezer Scrooge's business plan.

In case you're wondering, New Year's Day (4.3 billion people) is third and no other holiday is celebrated by more than 4 billion people. Not even Pi Day (March 14) and May the 4th (be with you!), which are celebrated by English-speaking nerds.

Another thing I learned in an article about holidays: Most countries have 12 to 14 public holidays and the United States has 11. We're in the middle.

Two nations – Somalia and Uruguay – have less than five and a few (including Japan) have 25 or more. The biggest holiday-granting government? Nepal, where I had several jokes available before the late-August floods. Trust me, they were funny, but not appropriate now. Suffice it to say, Nepal has 31 national days off.

So how will you mark the most popular holiday in the world? A barbecue? A picnic? 

Personally, I think the best way to celebrate the world's most popular holiday is to do what people in the rest of the world do.

Dance around a May pole. Crown a May queen. Hold a massive military parade to commemorate the power of the Soviet Army. We may celebrate Labor Day on the wrong day, but there's no reason we should ignore the traditions that make the holiday so popular.

I bet people in Nepal get a week off for Labor Day and workers in Uruguay and Somalia probably have to work double shifts.

We live in 11-holiday America, so be grateful for our final holiday of summer, even if we celebrate it four months late. And enjoy your May pole dance.

Reach Brad Stanhope at bradstanhope@outlook.com.

 

Counting down the greatest mascots, including Crazy Crab and Mr. Met

Earlier this summer, Jimothy became an internet star. He is a short-bodied, hunchbacked raccoon filmed in a Seattle neighborhood by a woman whose video generated millions of views.

She named him Jimothy because "he looks like a Jimothy," which is as good a reason for a name as any.

Jimothy was a big thing, but I wasn't aware of him until the Seattle Mariners added "Jimothy" to the "salmon race" they hold at every home game and several of their players began wearing "Jimothy" T-shirts emblazoned with his image.

I thought Jimothy was a new mascot, but it turns out he isn't. However, he got me to thinking . . . even without Jimothy, what are the greatest mascots in sports history?

A local angle: When the Solano Steelheads minor league baseball team played in Vacaville, "Sammy the Steelhead" was a good mascot. Daily Republic writer Jess Sullivan donned the costume for reasons I don't remember (was it for an article? Probably, but knowing what newspaper reporters earned, it could have been a side gig). After the Steelheads folded, the Solano Thunderbirds collegiate team came to town and their mascot (Travis the Thunderbird? Something like that) was a step down – particularly because the kid in the uniform would walk around with the mascot head thrown back so he could breathe, leaving Travis looking like he'd been decapitated. I suspect there were children who were traumatized by Travis (if that was indeed his name).

However, this rabbit trail led me to this point: What are the greatest mascots in major league sports history? Here are my top eight:

8. The Coyote. Ever since I heard someone say that the San Antonio Spurs mascot looks like a guy who is paranoid because he's high on drugs, I've been amused by this mascot. His bug-eyed look draws you in and keeps you watching him, despite the action on the court.

7. King Cake Baby. The New Orleans Pelicans mascot is the stuff of nightmares, a baby that looks like it comes from a horror movie. He's based on the plastic "babies" found in king cakes during Mardi Gras. In a world filled with puppet-looking mascots, King Cake Baby looks more like an old-school baby doll: One that would threaten to kill you right after your parents went to sleep.

6. Gritty. The Philadelphia Flyers mascot looks like a crazed Muppet, one that might pull out a switchblade and stab, then mock you. Something about Philadelphia makes for great mascots and Gritty – who debuted in 2018 – is the best recent addition to the mascot world..

5. Crazy Crab. The anti-mascot, created for the San Francisco Giants, with the idea of him being terrible. It worked. Crazy Crab would come on the field in the mid-1980s and fans would boo and throw things at him. Kudos to the Giants for opting against mimicking what the Padres and Phillies had done (see below) and choosing a road less traveled. The Giants now have Lou Seal, who is a pretty good mascot, but a pretty average mascot.

4. Mr. Met. An original member of the organization, created shortly after the Mets joined the National League in 1962. Mr. Met is a large baseball with a cap on his head. The name is brilliant, as is the fact that there is also a Mrs. Met. Earlier this year, Mr. Met won my heart by doing goofy moves behind a sportscaster who was sharing somber news that the team fired manager Carlos Mendoza.

3. San Diego Chicken. The O.G. modern mascot. The chicken originally worked for San Diego radio station KGW, but soon was present at nearly every pro sports event in San Diego. The man in the suit (Ted Giannoulas) was fired by the radio station, lawsuits followed and the character (performed by Giannoulas) was reborn as "The Famous Chicken," appearing at games and on TV shows. The chicken was a master of physical humor and was the precursor for modern mascots.

2. Phillie Phanatic. He was San Diego Chicken 2.0, arriving two years after the chicken broke through. The difference? The Phanatic is still here, 50 years later. He's funny and likable and absurd. Also, it's not clear what he is. Well, maybe it is clear: He's a phanatic.

1. The Tree. Leave it to Stanford University to have the most nonsensical mascot of all – a tree. However, its googly eyes and the fact that it was involved in the greatest mascot brawl in history (in 1995, with Oski the Bear, the mascot for the University of California) gives it street cred. Stanford's team are called the Cardinal (after the color, not the bird) and the mascot is a tree. Of course it doesn't make sense.

Reach Brad Stanhope at bradstanhope@outlook.com.

The secret way to bring joy to your job – at least for me

The old saying, "find a job you love and you'll never work a day in your life," was likely spoken by someone who never worked. However, if you can find a part of your job you love, that makes it seem less like work.

At least that's my philosophy. I've been fortunate enough to have jobs I've like since I landed my first newspaper job at age 21 – and really, I liked most of my jobs before that. But newspapers and writing (even for a non-newspaper) are fun to me.

But you know what's more fun? And you know what I've been doing since I landed my first newspaper job?

Pasting heads of people on other people's bodies in photos. Over and over and over.

If my LinkedIn profile was accurate, the first listed skill would be, "pasting co-workers or friends' heads on the bodies of people in photos." I'd have 40 years' experience, using scissors and tape; Photoshop; the Microsoft Paint app; Copilot and whatever else is needed.

Few things make me laugh more than a ridiculous image where a co-worker's head is pasted on the body of a 3-year-old blowing out candles to celebrate a birthday. Or pasting a friend's head on a body in the background of a crowd celebrating Richard Nixon's election. Or pasting a photo of my head as a child on the body of Black Panther Party member protesting in the late 1960s.

I was a sports writer for 20 years. I was a news writer for an additional six years. I've been a business writer for nearly 12 years. I've been a columnist for 40 years.

But ask people who work with me what I do and one of the first things they'll tell you is that I make ridiculous images by placing the heads of people I know on bodies in photos.

Find a job you love and you'll never work a day in your life.

I got my start doing this as a boy sports writer, with Ted and Mike – my first two professional co-workers and mentors, who were amused by the over-enthusiastic guy who added their heads to black-and-white photos that came off the printer from The Associated Press.

It continued at the Daily Republic. In the sports department, I hung a huge poster of the cover of The National, the short-lived national sports newspaper, with my head pasted over that of legendary auto racer A.J. Foyt. The reason? The headline said, "The toughest SOB in sports." It remains in my possession.

When my son Chad (who is now 35) was a baby, I'd routinely add his head to bodies of politicians – Jerry Brown, Bill Clinton and other 1990s figures. Lil' Chad would be speaking to Congress or shaking hands with the Senate Majority Leader.

I have no idea why this so amuses me. I know it also amuses my co-workers, but they get nowhere near the joy out of my shenanigans as I do. I suspect it sometimes irritates them.

But . . . man, it's funny to put someone's head on a body that doesn't belong to them. AI makes it simpler, which somehow makes it less satisfying. Still, I've created images of co-workers that way (my favorites include one of a friend wearing a superhero cape and another with former Daily Republic writer and current co-worker Nick DeCicco hugging the American flag like Donald Trump did several years ago.)

For someone who is fortunate enough to spend more than 40 years doing something he likes and being paid, it's curious that pasting heads on bodies brings me so much joy. It wouldn't be enough to make an untenable job fun – something I know from experience – but in my 60s, I'm as amused by my own stupidity as I was in my 20s.

It just goes to show you: Things tangential to our jobs – relationships, problem-solving, moments of unexpected fun, organized non-work activities (early in my days as the DR sports editor, we would have nightly, wild chair races around the building after deadline, something that surely violated OSHA rules but hopefully is beyond the statute of limitations), pasting photos of people's heads on other photos – are often what we remember the most.

As we always say, find a job that lets you do something that regularly amuses you and you'll still work a lot, but you'll have more fun.

Reach Brad Stanhope at bradstanhope@outlook.com.