When I gambled on a Reno treadmill and lost

Fitness machines are wonders.

You can turn on a treadmill and walk in place. You climb a hill on an elliptical machine and never leave the gym. You can ride a bike, break a sweat and stay in front of your TV.

Those machines are great if you know how to use them.

If you don't? Well . . .

In the late 1980s, Mrs. Brad and I took a weekend getaway to Reno. I'd had some health scares and there was a fair level of stress in our lives. We needed to get away and Reno was an affordable destination.

We drove up, checked into a nice hotel, wandered around and enjoyed the spectacle of people chain-smoking while they gambled away their retirement on slot machines. We ate at the buffet. We checked out the amenities and found that the hotel had an exercise room.

A fitness room! They are in every roadside hotel now, but in the 1980s, the idea seemed luxurious. A fitness room in a hotel!

We had to check it out, so we went in through separate entrances (since this fitness room had dressing rooms for women and men. Amazing!). It was something that rich people would use.

There was a set of weights. A treadmill. Exercise mats. A guy was in there, working out in shorts and a T-shirt. He was muscular. Familiar with the machines.

I was no slouch myself, so I got on the treadmill and checked it out. Nice.

I'd seen executives in movies using treadmills and I'd seen Steve Austin run on one in "The Six Million Dollar Man." I hadn't been on one, but how complicated could it be?

"Try it out," Mrs. Brad said. She was being nice. Or mean. I'm still not sure which.

I found a button and pushed it, holding the rails.

IT WENT FULL SPEED.

SUDDENLY, MY LEGS WERE PARALLEL TO THE GROUND.

THEN THEY HIT THE TREADMILL AND BOUNCED BACK UP.

The treadmill was going faster than I could sprint! My legs hit the treadmill and bounced back up. Over and over. It was a disaster!

I couldn't take my hands off the railing to turn the machine off because I'd fall. But if I kept going, it would throw me into the wall – or through the wall.

I panicked.

My legs were bouncing off the treadmill like it was a trampoline. They bounced maybe two or three times, but felt like 50.

I don't know if Carl Lewis, Ben Johnson or Flo-Jo had used it last (a very time-specific reference) or if I had somehow hit the full-speed button, but I swear it was set at 80 mph.

Finally, I managed to slap the off switch and the treadmill stopped. Disaster averted, narrowly.

Mrs. Brad was doubled over, laughing. Seriously.

I regained my dignity . . . kind of . . . and stepped off.

"Let's go," I told Mrs. Brad, who was still laughing into her hands. We went out opposite doors, as the guy – presumably disgusted with the dork who couldn't even work a treadmill – shook his head.

I learned my lesson. Always start slow.

Always be in control.

If you don't know how something works, ask.

Don't be the subject of a story by Mrs. Brad. She brought a man to Reno, just to watch him fly.

Reach Brad Stanhope at bradstanhope@outlook.com.

When it comes to reader questions, father knows best

It's Father's Day, a logical time to turn this space over to a dad, who can dispense invaluable advice.

Or, perhaps unvaluable advice. Depends on your perspective. Let's get to the mailbag, which has been piling up since last year.

Dear Dad: My boyfriend and I broke up about six months ago after three years. After our breakup, he started dating my younger sister and now they're in love. Here's the issue: Every July 4, my family gets together to watch the fireworks in Suisun City and I know my sister and my ex-boyfriend will be there this year, even though I guess there won't be fireworks this year. I don't want to go, but I also know this is an important event for my parents. What should I do? Go and get my feelings hurt or stay away and hurt my parents' feelings? — Broken-hearted in Fairfield

Dear Broken: That's a tough decision, especially in other years because that fireworks show is so great. Years ago, we used to drive down there and spend the entire day at the waterfront. But that meant it took an hour or more to get home, because there was so much traffic. I finally came up with a solution: Now we drive to Marina Boulevard and park near where it intersects with Highway 12. It's a little bit of a walk to downtown, but when the fireworks end, we head to our car and we're on our way. You can just shoot up Marina, turn right on Railroad and turn left on Sunset. You're right back near our home. I hope that helps.

Dear Dad: Since the pandemic started, I've worked at home, but now my company wants me to return to the office. My office is in Oakland, which means an hour-plus commute, even if I take BART. I love my job, but now that I've experienced working from home, I realize I like that freedom, too. What should I do? Look for a new job, go back to the office or something else? — I Love My Home Office in Suisun City

Dear Homey: People like jobs for different reasons. Some love the work, some love the people and sometimes it's a mix. Take, for instance, the people who worked at the bar in "Cheers." They got on each other's nerves, but it seemed like they had fun working. I mean Cliff, Norm and Frazier weren't employees, but Woody, Sam, Diane and Rebecca all were. They bugged each other, but they seemed like they liked working in that bar. That was a great show. I'll take that over any sitcom since, even including "The Office" and "Friends." It had that great theme song, too, right? "Cheers" was great. I hope that helps.

Dear Dad: I haven't gotten my Covid shot for a variety of reasons. The question is whether I should tell others that. I guess they might be more at risk around me, but I'm not sure. And is it any of their business? Please advise. — Unvaccinated in Vacaville

Dear Unvaccinated: Too bad you didn't go to a vaccine clinic, because they were amazing. They were organized and professional. It was very different than the physicals we used to have when I was in middle school and high school when you needed one to play sports. I remember we had one doctor who charged $10 for an exam. You'd walk in and he'd say your name. If you answered, he'd say your hearing was good. He'd ask you if you felt all right and if you said you did, he'd pass you. Then he'd measure you and weigh you. Those physicals were crazy. I hope that helps.

Reach Brad Stanhope at bradstanhope@outlook.com.

Time to start embracing germs again to help our health

The anti-germ zealots may kill us all.

That's because despite recent events, germs are our friends.

This is not a popular time to express that opinion – after all, we're emerging from a 15-month battle with a virus that killed more than a half-million Americans, a virus we fought by washing our hands, wearing masks and wiping down surfaces. Those practices made sense from March 2020 until now.

They may be bad for us in the long run.

Don't just listen to me, someone born in the mid-20th century. I have long been baffled by the number of people afraid to touch doors in bathrooms.

Instead, listen to epidemiologists: Obsessive cleanliness can kill things that keep you healthy.

“We’re starting to realize that there’s collateral damage when we get rid of good microbes, and that has major consequences for our health,” B. Brett Finlay told The New York Times.

Finlay is a professor in the department of microbiology and immunology at the University of British Columbia and an author of a paper published in the Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences. His paper elaborated on the need for microbes and how our response to the pandemic could harm that.

The point? There are trillions of bacteria in our bodies. Those bacteria keep us healthy. They're the essential workers of the human body and they're like any community: A small minority of them are bad, the vast majority are good.

Sanitizing everything kills them all, the germ version of using a nuclear bomb to kill a few bad people in a major metropolitan area.

In practical purposes? Sanitizing countertops constantly may hurt you in the long term. Washing your hands frequently might be unhealthy. Wearing a mask without good reason could be harmful.

Because we need microbes.

The New York Times article on the subject described it thusly: “The ‘hygiene hypothesis,’ introduced in 1989 by the epidemiologist David Strachan, first made the case that bodies deprived of contact with microbes could be at risk for health problems. The hygiene hypothesis has evolved over time, and experts continue to debate many of its finer points. But it’s now clear that exposure to ‘good’ bacteria is necessary for a person’s health, and that living in too-sterile environments may threaten us in ways scientists are only just beginning to grasp.”

We already know this. We know that an overreliance on antibiotics isn’t good – not just because antibiotics weaken over time, but because antibiotics kill things that help us. For example: during the pandemic, many patients who received antibiotics got even sicker several months later. Because their good germs got killed, too.

This is a tightrope. We still need to be proactive for our health. We now know that wearing a mask and frequently washing our hands can protect us from not only Covid-19, but also from the flu or random viruses. But we also need to realize that sterilizing everything and avoiding all germs has a long-term negative effect.

This won’t be popular. People who fear germs – a significant population before the pandemic – have gained steam. Wiping down every counter and overwashing your hands will gain you friends.

But germs are good for us, believe it or not.

It’s time to get back to being unafraid of most germs. Time to consider washing our hands only when they’re dirty.

We should apply one of the lessons of the pandemic: Essential workers (in this case, ‘good’ germs) must be allowed to do their jobs.

Reach Brad Stanhope at bradstanhope@outlook.com.

A 'slow burn' secret sauce for Netflix crime series

 

Aspiring screenwriter Brad Stanhope walks into Netflix headquarters in Hollywood in 2015. After being screened by a secretary, he sits at a large table in a conference room, across from two executives from the Netflix Original Series team.

Brad: Thanks for taking the time to listen to my idea. I think this could be a big hit.

Executive 1: Tell us your idea.

Brad: It's a series. An eight-part series. Set in a rural town. Maybe West Virginia or Louisiana or Ohio. Oh, maybe Poland.

Executive 1: Poland?

Brad: Yeah. Rural Poland. Or Belgium. Somewhere like that, in case you need a foreign series. It's exotic. Wait. Is Poland exotic?

Executive 2: I guess so. It's in Europe.

Brad: So here's the plot: A law enforcement officer returns to his hometown after being away for years.

Executive 1: I like it. Go on.

Brad: The cop has a dark secret. We hint at it in the first episode. Something he's running from, but it has to do with his hometown.

Executive 2: Dark secret. Got it. This is magic! Keep going!

Brad: We gradually realize that the town has a dark secret, too. Maybe the same as the cop's secret, maybe not. People don't talk about it, but it's there.

Executive 1: Can we get some more coffee in here. Keep going, Stan.

Brad: It's Brad. Stanhope is my last name.

Executive 1: Right. Go on.

Brad: At the end of the first episode, there's a murder. We don't know how, but it echoes whatever happened years ago.

Executive 2: A slow burn. That's what we call that: A slow burn!

Brad: Yes! Meanwhile, we reveal that the cop is recovering from a tragic end to a relationship. We don't know what happened, but he sits alone and drinks a lot in a run-down house. Or his car. This crime, though, brings flashbacks to when he was younger. He was somehow involved in whatever happened the first time.

Executive 1: I love it!

Brad: He still has a good friend in town after all these years. Maybe it's another cop, maybe just an old friend who is still in town. As the series unfolds, viewers think that the friend committed the crime. There's something weird about their friendship.

Executive 1: Slow burn! SLOW BURN!

Brad: We gradually realize the mysterious old crime cursed the town for decades. No one has forgotten it. Also, no one has moved away, other than the main character. And he returned.

Executive 2: This is fantastic.

Brad: At the end, we learn what we suspected all along: the crimes are connected. And the killer was introduced as a minor character in the first episode but ignored by viewers. By the fifth episode, viewers think that character is a good guy. Only as the final episode starts do they realize who did it. And this is the second time he's done it. The crimes are connected. When the main character – the cop – has to arrest the person, it breaks his heart. It causes him to drink in his run-down house. Or car. Definitely he's drinking.

Executive 1: Brilliant! In fact, this should be the plot of every series crime series we broadcast! Even from Poland!

Brad: And season 2 is even better. One of the characters from the first season is being stalked by someone. It has flashbacks to 25 years ago, too. It slowly unfolds.

Executive 2: A slow burn! I love it!

Stanhope walks out of the meeting, having set the tone for all Netflix crime series for the next decade.

Reach Brad Stanhope at bradstanhope@outlook.com.