An expert shares how to become a viral hit

What's it like to be a viral sensation? Well . . . it's surprising.

I realized that I was a viral sensation recently when poking around on the admin side of the Daily Republic website. I found a way to calculate what articles are the most-viewed in the history of the site and learned that one of my columns ranked sixth, with more than 79,000 views.

(For clarity, my ranking includes only articles that appeared on the website. Among the most-viewed pages are such things as the home page, the classified ads page, the list of comments made, etc. For further clarity, my definition of "viral sensation" is anything that receives more than 78,000 views.)

Of course, Tony Wade is also the list.  His 2013 "Back in the Day" column about "The medieval history of Fairfield, California" checked in at No. 38, with 23,000 views.

Isn't that cute? Keep trying, Tony.

Anyway, I'd like to take this opportunity to share some tips on becoming a viral sensation. First, though, here's a list of the articles on the website that have more views than mine.

The most-viewed article is Ted Puntillo's column from 2013 on who qualifies as a veteran. Puntillo's post is a runaway winner, with more than double the number of views of any other article. Second is a Tim Jones column from 2014 asking whether a renter has to cooperate if their landlord wants to sell a house. Third is a syndicated column from 2017 on the "10 Worst Things Trump Has Done" (For my money, I hope "ruined the United States Football League" made the list). Fourth is an article by Todd Hansen about the massive October 2017 fire in Solano County and fifth is an Annie's Mailbox column about there being a huge difference between a "father" and a "dad."

Sixth is mine: Ranking the greatest (and worst) generations.

From 2015.

With 79,000 views.

It's an ongoing thing, too. On Wednesday, I checked to see where my article ranked in the past 30 days. It was the 17th-most viewed article during that period. Four years after it was posted!

So you're asking: How do you become a viral hit like that? How do you connect with people in such a way that four years later, they're still clicking on the Daily Republic site to see your article?

Frankly, the answer is simple.

Ready?

The secret: Be the only person to write about something. And put that unique thing in the headline (Again, the headline was "Ranking the greatest (and worst) generations.")

That's it. I believe I am the only person in the world who written a column ranking the generations.

If someone types in the phrase "ranking generations" into Google, what comes up first? Generally, that Daily Republic column from 2015 (Google results may vary for different users, but the principal is the same).

You want to be viral? Whether it's on social media, in a blog or some other way, there are options:

• You can post an amazing video of a cat juggling chainsaws.

• You can write a touching post that says something in a way that strikes people ("Sadness is just happiness waiting to bloom.").

• Or you can write a column or blog post on something no one else has addressed.

Me? I'm hoping to knock Puntillo off the top spot with my next column: "How ranking generations determine who qualifies as a vet and whether that person has to help their landlord sell a house."

Reach Brad Stanhope at bradstanhope@hotmail.com.

Speaking up for peanut butter and jelly sandwiches

Peanut butter and jelly deserves better.

In a recent poll, Americans were asked their opinions about a variety of sandwiches, which were then ranked based on the responses. The peanut butter and jelly sandwich, the George Washington/Babe Ruth/Jimmy Stewart of sandwiches, came in . . . ninth.

Ninth! Behind even the club sandwich, for crying out loud. Who eats club sandwiches? Clubs taste terrible between two slices of bread!

Anyhow, a quick review of the survey reveals that the secret to being a favorite among Americans is to be bland.

Just ask a grilled cheese sandwich.

Yes, the grilled cheese sandwich, which ranks as the favorite sandwich in America, based on the survey by data company YouGov.

Grilled cheese. More beloved than a ham sandwich or a tuna sandwich (not "tuna fish" sandwich, since we don't say we're having a "ham pig" sandwich). Eight spots ahead of peanut butter and jelly.

Grilled cheese.

I have no gripe with grilled cheese sandwiches. They're good. Acceptable. Grilled cheese is a nice emergency dinner when needed. But America's favorite sandwich? Please.

This is like when "Little House on the Prairie" was voted the favorite dramatic TV program and Burt Reynolds was chosen the favorite all-around male entertainer at the 1979 People's Choice Awards. I mean they're fine, but really?

(That was the first reference to the 1979 People's Choice Awards since March 8, 1979, the the day after the show aired.)

First, some details. The YouGov people gave a sandwich credit for the list based on the percentage of people who said they "really like" or "somewhat like" the food. In order, the top five were grilled cheese (79 percent), grilled chicken (75 percent), turkey (75 percent) roast beef (71 percent), ham (69 percent).

For clarity, if you ranked sandwiches by how many people said they "really liked" them, the list would be slightly different: Grilled cheese still would rank first, but BLT would leap all the way from No. 6 to No. 2. Very few people "somewhat like" BLT sandwiches.

The eighth-ranked sandwich–just ahead of PB&J–was a bacon sandwich. Bacon sandwich? Really? How about pizza sandwich? Or chocolate-pie sandwich? A bacon sandwich sounds delicious, but it's not a real thing.

A closer look at the results reveals that those who love PB&J sandwiches tend to be members of Generation X and older (about 35 and older), less-educated and live in rural areas. You know, the salt of the earth people, not those city slickers who like fancy sandwiches.

I have no objection to grilled cheese sandwiches or turkey sandwiches or grilled chicken sandwiches. But peanut butter and jelly sandwiches contain a lot of protein and a lot of fruit (allegedly). Peanut butter and jelly sandwiches are easy to make: all you need is bread and two ingredients that come in jars. You can make them in the morning and they're still good in the afternoon.

They were good when you were 3. They are good when you're a teenager. They're good when you're an adult.

The fact that peanut butter and jelly sandwiches ranked ninth among Americans just shows that most people who took the survey are full of bologna.

The survey, however, wasn't. Because bologna sandwiches didn't make the list.

Reach Brad Stanhope at bradstanhope@hotmail.com.

Did you know tomatoes are really fruit? Of course you did

We're almost to the point of the year when people consistently say a thing that everyone knows, but the person saying it acts as if they're the keeper of the truth: "Well, September and October are the nicest months of the year here."

I think the same thing every time: Of course they are. Because September and October are the nicest month everywhere in the northern hemisphere.

Does hearing something I already know irritate me? No. It amuses me because it's one of several things that people frequently say as if they are the only ones who know it when in fact, everyone knows these things.

Want examples? Good, because I've got them.

With the acknowledgement that I may be leaving some out, here are eight more things that people say, ignoring the fact that everybody already knows them.

• "We only use 10 percent of our brain." We've all heard this and we all believe it, even though it's not true. According to scientists, the amount of our brain that we use varies. It's obviously not 100 percent, but who thinks we use 100 percent? We all think we use 10 percent, although we apparently think others don't use their 10 percent to "know" this.

• "Jesus wasn't born on Dec. 25." This is often an attempt to blow the minds of the faithful and convince them that Christianity is untrue. However, I don't know any Christians for whom Dec. 25 being Jesus' actual birth date is a deal-breaker.  Most know that Dec. 25 was a pagan holiday that Christians co-opted and most believe the actual date of Jesus' birth doesn't matter.

• "There's no Bible verse that says, 'God helps those who help themselves.'" Unlike the previous "fact," this is sometimes said by people of faith. If you've read the Bible you know this isn't in there. "God helps those who help themselves" was apparently first said by English political theorist Algernon Sidney (thanks, Google). There is no book of Algernon in the Bible.

• "The San Francisco earthquake killed fewer people than the fire after it." I knew this in third grade. Of course, the earthquake was the cause of the fire, but still . . . this gets said as if the person is breaking the Watergate story. We all already know this. If you didn't know this, you're using less than 10 percent of your brain.

• "Tomatoes are actually fruit." Really? Who knew this, other than everyone. Of course, I dispute this "fact" (my definition of "fruit" is "something that can go on a fruit salad"), but to act like it's new knowledge is funny.

• "Abraham Lincoln was actually a Republican." This not-so-mind-blowing fact is usually said to convince the listeners that the Republican Party hasn't embraced racism as a way to divide the country and win elections for the past 50 years. Maybe I should add the word "allegedly" to the previous sentence.

• "You know, the real nutrients in potatoes are in the skin." This was said to me so often during my childhood that I embraced it. I don't know that it's true, but I know that everyone in my generation thinks it's true and thinks they're the only ones who know it.

• "Muscle weighs more than fat." This one, like the brain statistic, is also untrue because a pound of muscle and a pound of fat both weigh exactly 1 pound. What people mean when they say this is that a weight increase is due to them adding muscle, not fat. Which, based on my history of observing people who say this, often seems untrue.

I could go on, but it's almost September. And around here, September and October are the nicest months of the year. If you don't believe me, ask Abraham Lincoln. He was a Republican, who ate tomatoes . . . a fruit!

Reach Brad Stanhope at bradstanhope@hotmail.com.

Rules for sports fans on amnesty, favorite teams, more

Free agency is a staple of modern professional sports: Star players finish their contract and switch teams. Someone is on our favorite team and suddenly they're gone, off in pursuit of greener pastures.

Since players switch teams all the time, can fans do the same?

Good question. Fortunately, there are rules.

Do fan "rules" have legal power? No, but they should, because like other social contracts (don't talk with your mouth full, don't make eye contact in elevators, drive at least 70 mph in the fast lane), we rely on rules to keep things straight. If you violate fan rules, you're like the person driving 50 mph in the fast lane and you don't want that.

We'll address the issue using the Socratic method, in which we engage in a friendly back-and-forth, asking and answering questions. This style was made famous by Socrates, who used just one name, like Pele, LeBron, O.J. and Charo.

Here are the rules on picking a favorite team, "fan amnesty" and more.

Q: Are there rules about picking a favorite team?

No. Pick whatever team you want, although geography is a major consideration (pick a local team!). Still, picking any team is fine, if you acknowledge that choosing a team based on the fact that it was successful in your childhood (hello, Lakers and Cowboys fans of my age!), you are a front-runner.

Q: Is it acceptable to have a "second team"?

No. People who have "second teams" aren't committed to their first team, in the same way that you can't have a second spouse while you're married. If you are an Oakland A's fan, they're your team. No sneaking around on them. No cheating. You're committed. Just. One. Team. Per. Sport.

Q: Is it ever OK to change favorite teams? Do you believe in the concept of "fan amnesty?"

Fan amnesty (when you can freely switch allegiances) is acceptable, but only in extreme circumstances (this is beginning to read like a 1930s view of divorce). Here is a short list of when it's OK to abandon your favorite team: 1. When you relocate and were a fan of the local team but didn't care that deeply about it. 2. When your team has gone a minimum of 15 years without a serious championship run and management is terrible. 3. When your team is moving to Las Vegas after previously moving to Los Angeles, then returning to Oakland.

Those aren't reasons you have to change, they're just reasons you can. Warning: You are not allowed to return. In marriage terms,  you can't remarry the team you divorced.

Q: If I really admire someone on another team, can I cheer for their team?

You can pick that admired player in a fantasy league, you can buy their jersey (although you shouldn't), you can follow them on Twitter or Instagram. But they're on another team, so you can't cheer for their team.

Q: If my team has terrible management, coaching or reprehensible players, can I switch to another team?

Only if  they haven't contended for a title in at least 15 years, as mentioned earlier.

Q: Who do I support if my team misses the playoffs?

This is the easiest and most obvious decision. If (or when, if you are a Sacramento Kings fan) your team misses the playoffs,  you root against your rival. In other words, when the Giants miss the baseball playoffs, Giants fans become fans of whomever the Dodgers play. Raiders fans root against the Chiefs, Chargers, Broncos, Steelers, Patriots or any other team.

Q: Did you really cite Charo as one-name star earlier?

Yes. I picked her as my favorite flamenco guitarist as a child, because I was a front-runner. But I'm loyal.

Reach Brad Stanhope at bradstanhope@hotmail.com.

Reality TV's next big thing is a combination of the hits

Three things are true about television programming.

1. Game shows and reality shows are profitable because there are no actors nor writers to pay.
2. Success breeds imitation.
3. The late-1970s is an embarrassment.

There's nothing we can do about the third point (other than time traveling and kidnapping the entire casts of "Happy Days," "Laverne and Shirley" and "Three's Company"), but the first two are the inspiration for my proposal to help save network television.

Well, maybe not save it. But I can create a sure-fire hit television show, which in the era of Netflix, Hulu, Spandex, Sling and Philo (one of those isn't a streaming service, the other four incredibly are!), TV networks desperately need.

TV network executives are like Milli Vanilli in 1990: Desperate for success, so people will quit questioning them (another reasonable simile: they're like Brad Stanhope in 2019, desperate for a cultural reference from the past 25 years).

So my idea is to (drum roll, please!) . . . combine popular reality shows into one big hybrid show!

You may laugh at that idea, in the same way people laughed at me in 2005, when I pitched a show that ended up being "Breaking Bad" (my proposed show was called "Baking Brad" and was focused on making cookies, but still).

I got the idea while watching "The Bachelorette," with Mrs. Brad. Even if you haven't seen the long-running ABC program, you probably know the premise: One woman dates a bunch of men (25 or 30) and gradually eliminates them until there's one left. He then proposes to her (spoiler alert: It didn't work this season!).

"The Bachelor" is the same premise in reverse.

In other words, the franchise is a dating show that is entirely unrealistic, involves only attractive and seemingly successful young adults and creates ridiculous drama. Kind of like the NBA playoffs, but without Kevin Durant (meaning there's less drama).

Anyway, while watching this season, I kept thinking of how the show could be more interesting. What if the contestants, for instance, faced harsh conditions like contestants on "Survivor"? In this case, the men would be forced to catch fish and forage for food between dates. The woman would arrive in an evening gown and a sweaty, stinky guy in shorts and a bandanna would take her out for dinner.

Would you watch? I would.

Further, what about if you added a talent competition, like on "American Idol" and "America's Got Talent"?

The men (hungry, cranky and stinky) would have to perform and gain approval from the viewing audience to remain in the game. You're telling me I might see a famished, staggering man singing "I will always love you" into the camera?

I'd watch.

Finally, what if we added an element of "Cops," where contestants who made morally questionable decisions (on a date with the bachelorette, by stealing food, with a bad song choice) get tackled, handcuffed and hauled away? And it would be photographed with hand-held cameras?

Would you watch it? I would.

Sometimes, the best idea isn't to come up with a new thing, it's to combine a series of old things. Just ask the Stars on 45, who put together a bunch of 1960s songs to create a No. 1 hit in 1981 (again: I'm desperate for current pop culture references).

If TV networks want the next big thing, they should turn to me: "The Bachelorette's Survivors Got Talent Until the Cops Come."

If the networks don't scoop it up, it will be available for streaming this fall on Spandex.

Reach Brad Stanhope at bradstanhope@hotmail.com.

Universe, Brimley both younger than you thought

The universe just pulled a Wilfred Brimley on us.

You read that right.

According to a recent NBC news article, several recent studies were conducted in an attempt to confirm that the universe is 13.8 billion years old, an estimate made after astronomers analyzed the European Planck space telescope's measurements of cosmic radiation.

The studies didn't confirm the age. Instead, many found that the universe is only about 12.5 billion years old.

It's younger than expected! That's (hoping his math is correct) a 1.3-billion-year difference. By percentages, it's the difference between being 45 and 50.

Those are important, because 50 is how old Brimley was when he starred in "Cocoon." Yes, 50. For context, Tom Cruise is now seven years older than Brimley was when he appeared in that film.

Like the universe, Wilfred Brimley was younger than we thought.

The universe age discrepancy led to the biggest space-time argument since the famous 1968 "Kirk vs. Spock" brawl that shut down the National Association of Astronomers meeting in Denver because, as you'll see below, not everyone agrees.

This dispute comes from how scientists interpret the data – with a side argument on the necessity of the "c" in "Planck" in the name of the telescope (most of us believe the c isn't needed).

This dispute goes back to 1929, when astronomer Edwin Hubble discovered the universe was expanding. That meant universe had a definite age – its birth was the time it began expanding.

Hubble's discovery led to the theory of the Big Bang, which led to the idea that we could figure out the age of the universe by figuring out when the Big Bang happened, which presumably led to the name of the 1984 Hall and Oates album "Big Bam Boom," which included "Out of Touch" and "Method of Modern Love."

Back on track: astronomers believe the universe has an age that we can discover. Decades after Hubble, the Planck space telescope came into play and made the age calculation possible by figuring out how fast the universe is expanding.

Astronomers concluded the age was 13.8 billion years. Until recent studies reveal the universe is growing at a faster rate than Planck predicted, which means the universe is younger than expected.

The NBC news article on the issue included this line: "given the stakes, everyone involved is checking and rechecking their results," which seems weird. I mean, the stakes don't seem that big, right? Does it really matter whether the universe is 12.5 billion years old or 13.8 billion years old? Both were before I was born.

Apparently it matters. The NBC story was headlined, "The universe may be a billion years younger than we thought. Scientists are scrambling to figure out why" and three weeks later, an article on Forbes' website was  headlined "No, The Universe Cannot Be A Billion Years Younger Than We Think."

Reading both made me feel like I was caught in an argument between an old married couple, but it's ultimately a science argument. This is what decided it for me: The Forbes article contained too many mathematical formulas and capitalized the word "universe" on every reference. I side with the NBC people.

But let's review what we know: The universe is only 12.5 billion years old.  Wilfred Brimley was 50 when he filmed "Cocoon." Bim Bam Boom was a solid album. Planck doesn't need the "c."

Who says science can't be fun?

Reach Brad Stanhope at bradstanhope@hotmail.com.

Email service reveals my age; a fitness craze suggestion

We're at the midpoint of summer, which means it's time to empty the metaphorical columnist's notebook, with information on email platforms, a new fitness craze, sports and more.

And of course "and more" is what we use to include everything unworthy of mention.

On to the topics du jour . . .

• • •

There are plenty of signs that I'm getting old: Gray hair, wrinkles, an affinity for 40-year-old music, early bedtimes. But nothing makes my geriatric condition more obvious than the fact that my primary email account is Hotmail.

Ha ha ha, grandpa. Nice job with the Hotmail account.

Well, first of all, I am now officially a grandpa, so thank you. Also, slow down a little. (Speaking of speeding, the speed limit on the freeway is that – the maximum limit. It's the maximum speed. I prefer to drive 45 mph in the slow lane, thank you very much. In my day, we weren't in such a reach. Oh, you can reach me at bradstanhope@hotmail.com.)

Yes, I use Hotmail.

I'm old enough to remember reading advice to job seekers to be careful about using a Hotmail account because it sounded too racy. Like maybe it involved sex.

Now a Hotmail email address is like having a Netscape email address watching an old tube television. My millennial co-workers are all on gmail–if anything (darned kids!).

Of course, I won't change. If Hotmail was good enough for Franklin Roosevelt, it's good enough for me.

• • •

A free idea: If you're a farmer, why not add to your income stream and reduce your work by calling your farm a "fitness camp?"

Cross fit is popular, why not this?

Farmers could have people pay to spend a few weeks in the summer "working out" in the fields, hauling hay around and doing whatever people do on farms (my understanding is largely based on watching movies).

Call it "Hayfit," make money and save expenses. Everybody wins.

Solano County farmers, you're welcome.

• • •

Quick sports observation: This year's NBA offseason the wildest such period for any sport in history, with several huge stars switching teams and a tremendous shift in the balance of power.

However, Bay Area fans should be optimistic after the Golden State Warriors avoided catastrophe. The Dubs lost Kevin Durant, but managed to add a young All-Star (D'Angelo Russell) and retain many of the key players around Stephen Curry. The Warriors will enter next season as one of the top 10 teams in the league, which seemed impossible after they lost in the NBA Finals.

Now back to non-sports coverage . . .

• • •

In a few years, we'll be telling young people how life was before television streaming services: "So you only had 250 channels and had to watch what was on when they scheduled them."

They won't believe it and neither will we, because it already seems ridiculous to watch regular TV without Netflix, Amazon or another streaming service.

It's like think of life before mobile phones.

• • •

I'd write more, but I'm running late for my Hayfit class. It's just $100 a week!

Reach Brad Stanhope at bradstanhope@hotmail.com (Yes! Hotmail!)

A statue's view of me: I squirm like a 7-year-old boy

So I'm kind of twitchy. Not in the little-kid-who-can't-sit-still way, but . . . well, maybe I am twitchy in that way.

But I didn't fully realize it until recently.

First what I already knew: I itch a lot. I squirm a lot. It's hard for me to sit still for a long time. If I ever have to get an MRI, I will go crazy because suddenly I will begin to get itchy everywhere I can't move.

That's not too unusual, I suspect.

I suspect.

But sometimes it's different. For instance, a few years ago Mrs. Brad and I were in Hawaii and took part in one of those do-three-things outings, where we hiked through a forest, rode mountain bikes and went snorkeling in the ocean (not simultaneously). The bike ride was the part where it became obvious.

We rode down a long, winding hill – obviously this wasn't an outing to see how tough  you were, but one to give you all the fun of without the work of pedaling up hills. Anyway, I told Mrs. Brad I'd follow her down the hill and did, for about five or 10 minutes. Just into the ride, I realized I was scratching and adjusting my seat and moving around.

Mrs. Brad looked like a statue. She didn't move.

I kept moving, adjusting myself. My arm itched. My leg itched. My face itched. I needed to move in the seat. I wanted to stand up.

I told her about it and we laughed. Ha ha ha. Yeah, I'm twitchy. I squirm.

Fast-forward to a couple of weeks ago. We were at a stoplight in our Prius, which goes silent in such circumstances. Mrs. Brad sat silently. She could hear me moving around, shifting, scratching. Looking out the side window, moving again.

She never moved.

We laughed about it. Ha ha ha. I'm a twitcher, she's a statue.

Then we had lunch with a friend from work. The story came up and we laughed. Then she spoke.

"You should see Brad during our meetings," she said. "He constantly moves around and taps his pen on the table. He's always moving."

What?

Apparently this is something about me that's known by people beyond Mrs. Brad. Apparently I'm the wiggly 7-year-old who can't sit still (in fact, we recently went to a Giants game with my nephew, his wife and their charming 7-year-old son. Mrs. Brad asked me what it was like to sit next to myself).

Apparently, the fact that I get up from my desk and walk around frequently is seen as restlessness, not being social.

This is a thing. (And, in fact, I've adjusted my seat several times while writing this and looked at the window while scratching my face.)

It's a little late in life, but I'm willing to accept it. While I would like to think of myself as normal and maybe consider my frequent movement as "having energy," others see it as me being a restless twitcher.

Mrs. Brad has known it for a long time, but I guess co-workers and friends do, too.

I'll do something about it after I'm done squirming, then walking around.

Reach Brad Stanhope at bradstanhope@hotmail.com.

Data on Americans and stress makes me anxious

I knew something was different. We're super stressed.

According to an annual Gallup survey released this spring, Americans feel stress, anger and worry at the highest level in a decade.

Americans are among the most stressed people in the world, a fact that makes me uptight.

Here are the basics of the poll: Gallup asked more than 1,000 adults whether they had experienced a series of feelings – positive and negative – during the previous day.

According to Gallup, 55 percent of American adults said they felt stress "a lot of the day," compared to 35 percent of people around the world.

About 45 percent of American surveyed said they felt "a lot" of worry (compared to 39 percent globally) and 22 percent said they felt "a lot" of anger (same as those around the world).

So we're more stressed, more worried and equally angry as the rest of the world.

Gallup found that negative experiences were most prevalent in those younger than 50, those earning a low income and those who dislike President Trump.

That makes me uptight (if "uptight" is still a word).

Most other nations with a lot of negativity were in Africa or the Middle East, while Latin American countries rated highest in positive.

Americans stressed, angry and worried, despite being one of the wealthiest nations in the world (No. 10 last year, according to one study), so money clearly doesn't buy happiness. What if achievement does? In other words, is it possible that we could turn this around by simply valuing different things?

Here's my plan to make America great again.

There are six nations that are more stressed than us: Greece, Philippines, Tanzania, Albania, Iran and Sri Lanka.

It's time to practice something I learned as a child: When you're losing, just change the scoring system. Insist you won because your checkers were eliminated first. Claim the lowest score wins in basketball. Say the goal in arm-wrestling is to have your arm pinned to the table.

Sooo . . . what if traveled to those stressed countries and gave residents money, paid for massages and played peaceful music the day before Gallup does this survey next year? The people relax, we get stressed and with a little work, the United States is the most-stressed nation in the world!

We could be No. 1! We spin it that being stressed is a positive!

The last time we were the undisputed No. 1 in something this important was Jan. 15, 2009, when Chesley Sullenberger landed an Airbus A320 on the Hudson River near Midtown Manhattan in the "Miracle on the Hudson." We were kings of the world! We were coming out of the Great Recession, we had a genuine hero and things were looking great!

The next day, a computer worm called "conflicker" infected more than 8 million Windows-based computers, really killing the vibe.

Since then, we've been like the Houston Rockets or the Los Angeles Dodgers: Good, but not quite good enough.

And stressed.

Under my plan, we can become become the kings and queens of stress. All it takes is a change in perspective and a trip to Iran and Sri Lanka to help the people relax.

Although I'm anxious about whether this will work, which is either good news or bad news.

Reach Brad Stanhope at bradstanhope@hotmail.com.

We have bigger homes, but we're still unsatisfied

Warning: A bigger home won't necessarily make you happier, unless you get a cartoonishly large house. And even then, you might be unhappy after your neighbor does an addition.

You already know that, but science backs it up.

I'm a baby boomer. I was raised in a ranch-style from the 1960s, spent most of my adult life in a tract home from the 1970s and now live in a condo from the 1960s (back to the future!)

You could say I'm old and cheap. I prefer the term "old-school."

But information in a recent report lets me know I'm on the right track. The McMansions of the 1980s, 1990s and 2000s held a hidden danger: They had the potential to make the homeowners unhappy.

That finding is from a paper by a guy named Clement Bellet. It also back up what you've heard from your grandmother, who told you that comparison is a thief of joy.

Grandma was right.

Bellet's paper reports that what he calls "house satisfaction" remains steady in America, despite the fact that the median size of newly built homes grew from 1,500 square feet in 1973 to 2,500 square feet in 2015. That's not shocking because another report says that the amount of space per resident has nearly doubled in the past 40 years. Homes are bigger now.

What's mildly surprising is that we aren't any happier with our homes. A four-bedroom, three-bathroom house with a large kitchen and a family room should bring more satisfaction than a 1,000-square-foot three-bedroom, one-bathroom tract house, right?

Not necessarily.

Bellet said the reason for the plateauing of satisfaction is simple. It's all about comparison.

He said (and brace yourself, there's some math coming) that if the largest 10 percent of homes in neighborhoods become 10 percent bigger,  neighbors become less happy with their homes unless their also grew 10 percent. In non-math terms, when the biggest house in the neighborhood gets bigger, neighbors become less satisfied unless their house, too, gets bigger.

Bellet points out that the people whose satisfaction is harmed the most are those with the second-largest homes. So if you see yourself as the No. 2-ranked home in your neighborhood, you are miserable if the gap between you and No. 1 grows. People who own large homes become unhappy when larger homes are built.

The result? Large houses are growing faster than small houses in an arms race to be the biggest, happiest homeowner in the neighborhood, even though it's a race you can't win.

All I know is that this report – and a lifetime of experience – shows that your house doesn't make you happy. And that people who live in glass houses shouldn't throw stones. And that there's no place like (a slightly larger) home.

To recap, here's what we learned

• McMansions don't make us happy, unless they're the only one in the neighborhood.
• When it comes to home size, the old saying is true: Second place is the first loser.
• Comparison is a thief of joy.

Reach Brad Stanhope at bradstanhope@hotmail.com.