Should we worry about Elon Musk's AI warnings?

Elon Musk is a smart man. He's the brains behind Tesla, SpaceX, Neuralink and Musk fragrance (maybe not the last one). He's just 46 and already an iconic figure in American business.

(I wonder if Musk changed his name to seem cooler, like when Laurence Turead became Mr. T. Apparently not, according to Wikipedia. However, Wikipedia once briefly listed me as a famous graduate of the college I attended and a frequent contributor to the Gary Radnich show on KNBR, back in the days when it was easy to change things.)

Anyway, I reached two conclusions: Elon Musk is the Thomas Edison of the 21st century, and Elon Musk makes me afraid.

Not because of what he does, but because of what he thinks.

Recently, he warned us about the dangers of artificial intelligence.

He commented on Twitter that AI (what we call artificial intelligence, although I habitually think of former NBA star Allen Iverson when I hear "AI") is more dangerous than North Korea. That might come as good news to South Korea, but is bad news for the rest of us.

Musk's tweet came after a product from his OpenAI company appeared at a $24 million video game tournament, beating some of the world's best players. (Frankly, the fact that I just typed a sentence that includes the phrase "a $24 million video game tournament" frightens me more than artificial intelligence.)

Musk warned that AI should be regulated. This echoed his statements a year earlier, when he said if IA is not regulated, humans could devolve into the equivalent of "house cats," compared to computers. (One plus: House cats wouldn't hold a $24 million video game tournament.)

Musk's campaign isn't just about video games and house cats, although that would frighten most right-thinking Americans, who don't like either. Musk joined other CEOs in signing an open letter to the United Nations, calling for a ban of the use of AI in weapons. The letter said, "lethal autonomous weapons threaten to become the third revolution in warfare," following the gunpowder revolution and Prince and the Revolution, if my grasp of history is correct.

This wasn't the first time. Musk joined a bunch of other smart people who wrote a similar letter in 2015.

So what should we do? From my perspective, here's what's important: The source. This warning about artificial intelligence posing a threat to humanity isn't coming from someone who watched too many science-fiction movies or one of the nabobs on an internet message board. It's not from someone who wears aluminum foil hats. It's not from your crazy brother-in-law who thinks 9/11 was an inside job.

This is from Elon Musk, a successful, forward-thinking entrepreneur.

This is from the guy who is possibly changing the energy game with solar-powered batteries. This is from the guy who suggested a "hyperloop" from Northern California to Southern California and no one laughed, because he had a plan.

That's the guy who warns about artificial intelligence taking over the world and turning us into house cats.

So what to do?

Don't go to all the websites recommended by your computer. Don't let the navigation app on your smartphone dictate where you drive. Don't . . . ahh, what am I saying? I will continue to do all those things.

Anyway, who is Elon Musk, anyway? Did you see the hyperloop thing he proposed? What a nabob.

I read on an internet message board that this isn't real and I shouldn't worry. Of course, the phrasing seemed slightly less than human, so . . .

I'm sure it's nothing.

And you can count on me. I used to be a famous graduate of my college.

Reach Brad Stanhope at bradstanhope@hotmail.com.

America has fallen for pumpkin spice ruse

Let's get this much clear: Pumpkin spice is fake news. It's like calling a vanilla milkshake (milk, ice cream, vanilla extract and sugar) "chocolate spice." Because, of course, there is rarely any pumpkin in pumpkin spice.

Pumpkin spice is usually some combination of cinnamon, ginger, nutmeg, allspice and the eye of newt. Calling it pumpkin spice is like calling the NBA team in Utah the "Jazz."

Nonsensical.

Yet we've fallen for it, in the biggest triumph of American marketing since we thought "Happy Days" was funny. Watch "Happy Days" sometime. It's not funny. Never was, but we were told it was funny. We obliged.

We're now told pumpkin spice flavoring is great and is what autumn tastes like. We oblige.

The pumpkin spice ruse started with Starbucks in 2003. It's the same company that told us that "venti" is a size, frappuccino is a word, that it's a "mistake" when they foul up writing our names on the cups (and we share on social media, giving Starbucks free advertising) and that there was a controversy over their holiday coffee cups, requiring us to buy their coffee to prove we're open-minded.

Starbucks told us in 2003 that pumpkin spice latte was how to celebrate autumn.

People like it, which is fine – no different from Starbucks selling eggnog lattes in December and McDonald's selling Shamrock Shakes around St. Patrick's Day. It was a seemingly harmless diversion.

Then it spread. Pretty soon, you couldn't walk down the street without seeing advertisement for a pumpkin spice product.

Pumpkin spice tea. Pumpkin spice pancakes (well . . . sure!). Pumpkin spice gelato. Pumpkin spice peanut butter.

It continued.

Pumpkin spice cough drops (cough drops!). Pumpkin spice pretzels. Pumpkin spice butter. Pumpkin spice Pringles chips. Pumpkin spice Cheerios. Pumpkin spice Oreos. (OK. The last three have plenty of flavor varieties, so it's OK. Even though pumpkin spice, again, isn't really a spice and rarely contains pumpkin.)

It's over the top. It's marketing. Starbucks launched a campaign that has us craving something that didn't exist in 2002. It created the illusion that their product is linked to the arrival of autumn and Halloween and the holiday season and cool, crisp nights.

Fine for coffee, maybe. But butter? Cough drops? Gelato?

There's no end in sight and it's getting worse.

The idea went fully off the rails earlier this year when San Francisco-based, all-natural deodorant maker Native, which previously offered such scents as coconut and vanilla, apricot and white peach, and cypress and cedar, launched a new line.

Pumpkin spice latte deodorant.

Seriously.

Not only does it smell like pumpkin spice (again, not really a spice. And pumpkin is rarely included), it allegedly smells like a pumpkin spice latte.

Your armpit can smell like the most popular drink of autumn.

This is no knock on companies that are using pumpkin spice flavors and scents – they're just chasing the market.

This is a cry for the America consumer to see clearly. We're being exploited. We're being played. We're being molded into what Big Coffee and Big Cookie and Big Butter and Big Deodorant want us to be, so we'll buy their products.

Stop the madness. Buy a pumpkin spice latte if you need it, but stop there.

Take back fall. Take back pumpkins. We can do better than this.

And when we win, remember that the revolution was started by me, the official pumpkin spice columnist of autumn.

Reach Brad "Pumpkin Spice" Stanhope at bradstanhope@hotmail.com.

Ranking Solano's seasons, worst to first

Mrs. Brad and I were in the Sierra Nevada on the first day of fall. It snowed.

Meanwhile, in our hometown of Suisun City, it was in the mid-70s and sunny, which goes to show you at least one thing: Your perception of a season largely depends on where you spend it. Winter in Wisconsin is not winter in Hawaii. Summer in Alabama is not summer in Alaska. Falling in a sand pit is not the same as falling into a wood chipper, although that's a different issue.

Since I live in Solano County and I like to rank things (I've previously ranked generations, decades, punctuation marks and holidays, for instance), it's natural to rank the four seasons in our region (summer, fall, winter, spring. Not Frankie Valli's singing group nor the 1981 Carol Burnett-Alan Alda film), based on a scientific compilation of selective facts, feelings and personal history.

Starting from the bottom:

4. Winter: The best thing about winter here: It's better than elsewhere. It's not as cold, our rain isn't as plentiful, our fog isn't as bad.

Still, that's like saying that Hot Pockets aren't as bad as hot dogs . . . a dubious honor. When you support something by saying it's not as bad as it could be, you make a losing argument. Winter is dark, wet, cold and dreary. It includes all of January and February, our worst months. The best day of the season is Christmas, which comes four days into winter and is followed by three months of dreariness.

3. Fall: Few things are more predictable than the insistence of women in their 30s and 40s that they love fall. The only problem? They're wrong (just like they're wrong about pumpkin spice flavors, Ryan Gosling's acting talent and "The Bachelor").

However . . . fall in Solano County is a time of glorious weather (usually in the 70s and 80s until early November), overshadowed by two negatives: Days get shorter and fall actually lasts until Dec. 21, which is dreary, cold and dark. The good things? High school football returns (we can hear the Armijo High public address announcer and the cheering crowds from our house), heat waves are largely gone and the best holiday (Thanksgiving) takes place.

Fall in Solano County is better than spring and summer in many other places. But not here.

2. Summer: I grew up in a town where summer meant fog and 60-degree days, so when Mrs. Brad and I moved here, it was glorious. One-hundred degree days? Bring 'em on!

Decades of living here changed my view. Somewhat.

I still love warm weather, but don't enjoy heat waves. And when we get heat waves (arguably the worst weather events in Solano County, which is saying something), they're in the summer. But here's what else is in the summer: Outdoor community activities, camping, plenty of 85-degree days, late nights of sunshine.

For my money, summer is a winner. Just not the winner.

1. Spring: Just the name seems great: Spring! The weather gets warmer and the days get longer. It means the start of baseball, the NBA playoffs, the end of the school year and the start of outdoor activities. We're never more optimistic than springtime.

Warm weather, vacations, more sunlight? Spring is the best season here.

And in just more than five months, it will return!

Reach Brad Stanhope at bradstanhope@hotmail.com.

Another tough year for most-popular baby names

I always defend millennials. But really?

Babies named Kylo? Zayn? Zyaire? Royalty? Itzayna? Poppy?

All of those were among the names that increased the most in popularity from 2015 to 2016, according to the Social Security Administration.

To be fair, none are in the top 100, but still . . . how is it possible that Royalty is a more popular girls name than Brittany and Anne? How is it that Grey is a more popular boys name than Bobby or Willie? Has there been a great San Francisco Giants outfielder named Grey? I thought not.

The annual list always causes intrigue. For instance, the 2016 rankings bring a question about whether the transformation of Bruce Jenner to Caitlyn Jenner affects things so much that the four girls' names that decreased the most in 2016 were Caitlin, Caitlyn, Katelynn and Kaitlynn?

Hmm. I would have thought the reaction would be the opposite.

It's time to admit the obvious: People don't know what they're doing when they're naming their children.

Of course when the "most popular baby names" list comes out every year, the focus is on the top. It's Noah, Liam and William for the boys, Emma, Olivia and Ava for the girls.

All fine. But I'm more concerned about the others, bubbling beneath the surface.

For instance, did you know that Valentino and Talon were both in the top 1,000 boys names? I mean, that's a good law firm (who would want to go to court against Valentino and Talon?), but would you trust your 5-year-old daughter in a class with a kid named Valentino? (Of course, the only people who understand that reference are dead).

On the girls' side, it's more of the same. Wren, Myah and Lennox. All top-1,000 names. Also potential names of kitchen appliance companies.

Of course, there's some good news for people who want it to be 1945 again. James, Daniel, David, John, Jack, Charles and Leo are all in the top 100. They sound like my father's friends. Evelyn, Grace, Penelope, Lillian, Eleanor and Lucy (all of whom could have been my grandmother's sisters) are top-60 names.

Names are obviously a personal choice. With my oldest son and his bride expecting their first child, I'll be quiet when they make their choice, even if it's Royalty. Similarly, I'm not criticizing you for giving your child one of the names I mocked. I was talking about other people.

However . . . when it comes to girls names, there's this: Charleigh is No. 500. That begs the question of why not Bradleigh? It's not in the top 1,000. Maybe in 2017?

My personal pet peeve is that Aileen is listed at No. 599. That's the name of my sister and lifelong nemesis. Although I'll remind her that Bradley has only been out of the top 200 once in my lifetime, and that was 2008 when it was 201st. That's the year the U.S. economy crashed.

Solid names are always good, something we need to remember in 2056 when people named Kingston, Jax, Daleyza and Dahlia are presidential candidates.

They'll be fine and seem normal, but I stand by this: Never trust someone named Royalty to be president.

Reach Brad Stanhope at bradstanhope@hotmail.com.

There's a reason clowns have an image problem

The scariest clown movie in a generation was released last week when Stephen King's "It" hit theaters. Public response was strong. The response from the clown community wasn't funny.

The president of the World Clown Association (seriously!) said the movie, in which a monster takes a variety of forms (including a clown) and hunts down children, hurts the image of clowns. He blames the movie for the clown industry downturn.

The WCA, in fact, issued a statement that the character should be understood as a fantasy character, not "a true clown" and said "various horror clown portrayals work against our goal."

I'm sympathetic with the clown community, but they're wrong. The movie isn't what makes clowns scary. Clown makeup does that.

For me, at least.

My understanding of the horrors of clowns goes back to a time when I was about 20 and the future Mrs. Brad (then known as Brad's Girlfriend) and I were co-activity directors for a weeklong kids' camp for our church. We were at a remote campground with maybe 75 elementary-school-age kids and their counselors, directing relay races, water balloon volleyball, skits and singing.

And a clown makeup session.

Neither of us were advocates, but an influential adult loved clowns and figured the kids would love it, too. So on about the third day of camp, we got all the kids in the picnic bench area, had them pair up and paint each other's faces. It would be a hoot!

Problem 1: Kids don't know how to paint faces.

Problem 2: I don't know how to paint faces.

Problem 3: I paired up with Brad's Girlfriend, who did know how to paint faces. Or at least better than me.

As the 30-minute painting session progressed, you could feel energy being sucked out of the camp. It's nearly impossible to kill the spirit of 75 excited elementary school kids, but clown makeup did. I could almost hear the funeral dirge as the kids sat patiently (and impatiently), while friends painted their faces.

We weren't playing tag or Frisbee golf or capture the flag. We were painting each other's faces.

When Brad's Girlfriend and I finished, I didn't know how I looked, but I could see her. It was horrific. It was funny. Someone just arriving might have commended her for allowing a young, non-artistic, blind child to paint her face.

She wasn't happy. She was mad because I was laughing. And because I committed a makeup atrocity.

The kids were no different. The mood went from anticipation of another fun day to feeling like they'd been told the family dog died. We lined up for a group picture (the clown-loving adult thought it was great!) that undoubtedly revealed 75 pairs of slumped shoulders and pouting lips. Including Brad's Girlfriend.

It took a day to recover the energy. Even the campfire that night was somber. An event designed to make everyone happy created a heartbreaking experience for a group of kids – and a tortuous experience for Brad's Girlfriend, who had to wait an hour or so to remove the mess I painted on her face.

Some people love clowns. The World Clown Association says it wants to bring joy. The wider clown community seems nice.

But this much is clear: The image problem for clowns predates the current movie.

One good thing: For at least one day, decades ago, Mrs. Brad was legitimately the "It Girl."

Reach Brad Stanhope at bradstanhope@hotmail.com.

New elements spread scientific knowledge, fear

I'm no scientist, although I played one in the 1966 horror movie "Mothra's Excellent Adventure." In fact, my science knowledge stops at the freezing temperature for water (cold) and what's in table salt (salt).

But news that scientists added have items to the periodic chart was an eye-opener for me.

The International Union of Pure and Applied Chemistry (IUPAC) last winter approved the name and symbols of four elements – elements 113, 115, 117 and 118. They are called, in order, Nihonium, Moscovium, Tennessine and Oganesson.

According to an announcement by IUPAC, the newly discovered elements were named after a location or a scientist, following the early naming convention that honored Frank Oxygen and Harriet Nitrogen, both whom lived in the Hydrogen neighborhood of Baltimore.

I wouldn't give a nickel for that gag. Get it? Nickel is an element!

I just hope that the person who came up with Oganesson, which is abbreviated as Og, now calls himself "the Wizard of Og." Seriously.

But let's commemorate the use of the word Tennessine, which I have always used as the past tense for the word Tennessee. Now I know differently.

The periodic chart is interesting, although I missed most of the instruction about it during high school science due to the fact that I was surreptitiously listening to the Giants on a transistor radio. But I was apparently misinformed: I thought that like the number of planets in the solar system (eight after Pluto's unfair demotion), faces on Mount Rushmore (four), members of the pop group Hanson (three) and turtle doves (two), the number of elements on the periodic table was settled.

Apparently not. It never was.

Sneaky scientists have been adding to the chart since it was introduced in 1869 – bringing criticism that they're just doing it to force amateur chemists to keep buying new charts, like those pesky college textbook authors.

The four new elements last winter were the first to be added to the table since Flevorium and Livermorium were accepted in June 2011.

Livermorium! It's from Livermore . . . and it also gives cachet to my plan to buy a crematorium in Livermore and name it "The Livermorium." Cool, right?

That the periodic table of the elements continues to expand should be seen as good news. Knowledge keeps expanding. People keep discovering new things. The borders of science keep growing.

Except . . .

The first 94 elements exist naturally and the subsequent 24 have been synthesized in labs or nuclear reactors.

There's no reason to fear.

I'm sure scientists creating new elements in a lab or a nuclear reactor is purely harmless. The fact that every time that's happened in a movie has led to disaster shouldn't make us fear. Right?

Right?

I guess we'll just have to trust the scientists. And hope that nothing goes wrong with the new, synthesized elements.

If it goes bad, I guess we should have Tennessine it coming, right?

Dumb puns are a key element in jokes. Get it? Element?

Reach Brad Stanhope at bradstanhope@hotmail.com.

America's shaky love affair with the NFL

America's love affair with her dangerous boyfriend begins again soon.

The NFL season starts Thursday.

For decades, our relationship with the nation's most popular sport (listed as the favorite sport by twice as many people as any other sport in 2015) was simple. The NFL was a weekly battle of wholesome, all-American athletes. It was the perfect television sport: framed in a tight space, with enough time for replays and commercials. We gambled on games, played fantasy football and held tailgate parties even when we weren't at the game.

The Super Bowl is an American holiday and we turned Monday Night Football (then Sunday Night Football, then Thursday Night Football) into a weekly ritual. If you didn't love the NFL, you kept quiet about it.

And then . . .

NFL players kept getting into legal trouble. You couldn't go a week without hearing about an NFL player being arrested. Drunken driving. Domestic abuse. Assault. Was it an epidemic or just that we were finally hearing the truth? The league needed to do something.

The tide turned. A little. But we kept watching.

And then . . .

Retired players started coming forward with tales of brain problems. They couldn't remember their phone numbers. They couldn't endure light. Headaches. Premature deaths. And some of the men were in their 40s and 50s.

Soon it became a stampede. Brain injury after brain injury. A movie starring Will Smith. Studies about the prevalence of chronic traumatic encephalopathy (CTE) among NFL players.

The love affair with the NFL got a little shakier.

The news got worse. Just last month, a study showed that of 111 brains of former NFL players that were studied, 110 showed signs of CTE. Sure, they were men whose families suspected something was wrong. Sure, that's not a representative sample. But as observers pointed out, even if the next 1,200 brains of former NFL players tested negative – which is next to impossible – NFL players would be vastly above the normal expected level of CTE.

A fact: Playing football, particularly at its highest level, significantly increases your chances at brain injuries.

We keep watching, but we're less comfortable.

It's still the NFL. It's still America's Sunday celebration. It's still the Cowboys and Patriots. It's still Tom Brady and Ben Roethlisberger.

The NFL has survived challenges from four other professional football leagues. It overcame the embarrassment of ignoring a culture of off-field violence. It survived – even thrived – while franchises moved, ticket prices skyrocketed and entertainment competition increased.

But . . .

This is a league that causes brain injuries.

Many of the players we're cheering for on Sundays will suffer brain trauma that will make their retirement years a nightmare.

Maybe the NFL is the new cigarettes.

For years, Americans suspected they were bad for our health but ignored the warnings. Then the surgeon general declared that cigarettes cause cancer and the tide slowly turned. Tobacco products kept selling, but decreased. Smoking became less acceptable. It was banned in some, then most places.

Smoking hasn't gone away, but it's not what it was. Society recognizes that it's dangerous and spurns it, even though some people still smoke.

Will the NFL follow suit? In a few decades, will children be amazed that we celebrated a game that inflicted brain damage on its participants?

Former Atlanta Falcons coach Jerry Glanville was once caught on film, arguing with an official. "This is the NFL," Glanville said. "That means not for long when you make them (bleeping) calls."

A reasonable question: Does the cascade of medical evidence about the adverse health effects of playing pro football mean the NFL's future as the No. 1 sport is not for long?

Reach Brad Stanhope at bradstanhope@hotmail.com.

No reason to fear bubonic plague, except . . .

Relax. Breathe deeply. There's no reason to panic.

Everybody knows that the bubonic plague wiped out roughly one-third of the population of Europe in the Middle Ages, but that was hundreds of years ago.

Right? Right?

So there's no reason to panic after we heard recently that fleas tested positive for the bubonic plague in Arizona because . . .

Wait.

What?

The bubonic plague in Arizona?

THE BUBONIC PLAGUE WAS FOUND IN ARIZONA!

OK. Calm down.

There's no real reason to panic, they say. People rarely die from bubonic plague, they say.

But further investigation into this news reveals how officials discovered the disease: Prairie dogs began dropping dead.

Prairie dogs! Dead! Immediately! The cute little prairie dogs keeled over, dead.

From the bubonic plague.

In Arizona!

But it was OK. Officials reacted swiftly: Residents were warned to "take precautions to reduce the risk of exposure to serious disease, which can be present in fleas, rodents, rabbits and predators that feed upon these animals," according to a statement from the Navajo County Health Department.

Seems simple enough. Just don't allow fleas, rodents or anything that comes into contact with them to get near you.

In other words, live in a bubble, like the character John Travolta played in that awesome 1970s TV movie.

Common sense suggests it's likely that the bubonic plague won't affect people . . . except three people in New Mexico tested positive for the disease in June.

In June!

In case you're worried, here are the symptoms: A sudden onset of fever, headache, chills, weakness and tender lymph nodes.

I would write more, but I got the chills and a slight headache while writing that last sentence.

Oh. Em. Gee.

There is no reason to panic.

According to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, about seven cases of the plague are reported each year in the United States, an "average" belied by the fact that there were four cases in 2012, four in 2013, 10 in 2014 and 16 in 2015 . . . which means the bubonic plague is on pace to wipe us all out by about 2100. Or faster.

The World Health Organization says there are roughly 300 cases a year on Earth, which is what that organization would have said in 1346 had it existed. Ditto my ancestor Percival Stanhope, one of the leading fishmongers in his village. Just a few years later, 75 million people were dead from the black death, including most of Percival's clients.

That 1347 outbreak resulted in not only mass death, but a breakdown in social order. It was seen as God's judgment against a sinful world. Jews and other minorities became scapegoats and thousands were burned alive in retaliation.

A major health disaster that leads to the basic breakdown of society? That seems dangerously close, even without a "black death" event.

But there's no reason to panic. My research revealed that the last urban outbreak was in 1924 in Los Angeles and most human infections occur "in the southwest and near California, southern Oregon and western Nevada," which is nice because . . . wait . . .

If you drew lines from western Nevada and southern Oregon, they would intersect right about . . . HERE.

WHAT?

I just got a headache and weakness.

What's in a (book's) name? Everything!

People who say there are no shortcuts are always late to meetings, right?

They're also wrong.

Of course there are shortcuts. Otherwise, why are there back roads to avoid the traffic on Interstate 80? Why is there a 10-items-or-less line at the supermarket?

Shortcuts are awesome and I found one.

It's almost like a license to print money: Piggy-back on the success of others.

That's the secret. That's the shortcut.

Today, I announce the launch of my new series of novels, which will actually be the same novel I published a few years ago (look me up on Amazon!), but under different titles. Rather than trying to write something new, I'm going to use the success of others to reach readers who might not otherwise read the brilliantly titled "Not Quite Camelot."

I may adjust the plot slightly so that the new title makes sense. Maybe.

Seem silly? You won't think so when you see "Hairy Potter: Book 8" at the top of The New York Times' best-seller list! It will have a minor character who is covered with body hair and makes ceramic pots. See? He's a hairy potter and he would fit in "Not Quite Camelot."

If you think people won't fall for it, you're mistaken. Because people watched both "Diff'rent Strokes" and "Webster." They watched both "The Addams Family" and "The Munsters."

The original can be copied and improved. My idea isn't to "steal" other people's ideas, because it's my idea. My novel. The titles will just be like others.

Notice that I put the word steal in quotation marks in the previous sentence, which means that if this ever goes to trial, I'll deny everything. It was in quotation marks!

My plan doesn't stop at "Hairy Potter." I have several other titles under which I plan to release NQC (we authors often refer to our books by their initials, except for something like "Case Review: Andrew Peterson," for obvious reasons).

I will release a book called "The Da Vinci Core," because I'll add a scene where the protagonist finds an apple core that's shaped like Leonardo Da Vinci. It's the Da Vinci core.

For readers who love the classics, there will be a version called "A Tale of Three Cities," which people may misconstrue as a sequel to the Charles Dickens classic. That's not my fault. The fact that the main character in my novel lives in three cities during the course of the plot seems like a great reason for that title.

Some readers may be intrigued by the version of the novel called "Loleta," which perhaps brings to mind the novel "Lolita" by Vladimir Nabokov. Again, not my fault. My novel will include a brief passage where the characters are in the small farming city of Loleta in Humboldt County. An honest mistake . . . by the reader who buys my novel!

Of course, the end game is to move into territory owned by the best-selling, most-owned book in history.

One version will be called "Brad's Interesting Book, Literary Excellence."

The fact that it will be called "BIBLE" on the front isn't my fault. Maybe the reader should have looked inside before spending hard-earned money!

Don't blame the author. Celebrate the author! He wrote the BIBLE!

Reach Brad Stanhope at bradstanhope@hotmail.com.

Solano County's secret tomato history

The 26th annual Fairfield Tomato Festival kicks off this week, a celebration of Solano County's No. 4 cash crop (in 2016, but No. 1 for the previous two years). It's also our favorite salad item and the main ingredient in our best-selling hotdog condiment.

Yes: Tomatoes!

While all those facts are reason to celebrate the tomato, there is another, less obvious explanation: Tomatoes played a key role in nearly every major event in Solano County history.

Yes, Solano County has a SECRET TOMATO HISTORY, partly the subject of urban legends, partly the cause of our greatest problems, partly the secret ingredient to what makes this place so special.

Let's take a look inside Solano's SECRET TOMATO HISTORY:

Ancient history: Archaeologists dates settlement in Solano County back thousands of years – artifacts have been found in Green Valley that date back to 2000 B.C. (they're early golf clubs, which suggests that Green Valley has long been a center of upper-crust economics). What's most interesting for tomatophiles? Rockville Hills Park reportedly has cave drawings that portray early man using ketchup on Solano buffalo, suggesting that 4,000 years ago, tomatoes were already thriving here. Buffaloes, too.

Modern settlement: In 1835, the government of Mexico commissioned Gen. Mariano Guadalupe Vallejo to colonize the areas north of the San Francisco Bay as a buffer against the Russians (Russians! Or was it 19th century fake news?) and to protect settlers from "hostile Indian attacks."

That government lasted until 1846, when the California Republic was briefly established before California became part of the United States. Historians say the key moment may have come when Vallejo tried to raise the Mexican flag above his compound and the flag was pelted by residents who threw tomatoes at it. Solano County tomatoes led to California joining the United States!

Founding Fairfield: In 1903, Fairfield became the final of seven towns in the county incorporated into cities, becoming the county seat. There was talk of adding an additional city – including discussions about Green Valley, Birds Landing and Elmira. That discussion ended when a descendant of Fairfield founder Capt. Robert Waterman stood up at a town meeting and shouted, "I don't think there should be eight!"

The speaker was drinking a tomato-based concoction and some residents mistakenly thought he said "V8." In an act of rebellion, they lobbied the Campbell's Soup Company to begin making the No. 1 vegetable juice in America: V8, with a main ingredient of tomatoes.

Travis Air Force Base: During World War II, the U.S. Army established the Fairfield-Suisun Army Air Base east of town, beginning the history of the most important organization in city history. In 1951, it was renamed Travis Air Force Base, after the death in a plane crash of Gen. Robert Travis.

Throughout the Cold War, Travis Air Force Base was a stronghold, anchoring missions all over the world. Unbeknownst to most people, Travis personnel had a secret motto during those dark hours: Travis Overpowers Multiple Attack Terror Options.

Yes, TOMATO.

There's more: The real secret to the Nut Tree, the event that brought us Lake Berryessa, the property on which the Solano mall is built and more.

But that's for another time, since this is about the Solano County's SECRET TOMATO HISTORY and to tell everything would give away the secret.

So next weekend, enjoy your time at the Tomato Festival. Listen to the music, buy some food, go into the tents. But more than anything, remember this: The tomato isn't just one of our leading agricultural products.

The Solanum lycopersicum (seriously! It almost has "Solano" in its name!) is our history.

And our destiny.

Reach Brad Stanhope at bradstanhope@hotmail.com.