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.