A 3-year-old is evidence that Barbie dolls are still popular

Barbie is back!

If seeing how my 3-year-old granddaughter loves her myriad Barbie-type dolls wasn't enough, Mattel Inc. recently said that during the pandemic year of 2020, Barbie had its best sales growth in 20 years. Barbie – previously considered an outdated doll that gave girls an unhealthy view of their bodies – is now one of the hottest toys in America.

The reasons are a revamp of Barbie's look, partnerships with movie studies and work with social media influencers.

And my 3-year-old granddaughter and presumably, her 1-year-old sister.

The dolls are different now. Barbie dolls come in 22 skin tones and 94 hair colors. There are five body types. There are Barbie dolls with wheelchairs.

(Side note: I can't track the dolls' names. I know some are named Barbie, but some have other names. It's mystifying. They have names like Skipper and . . . well, all I know are Skipper and Barbie. I think one of my sisters had a doll named Midge, who may have been produced by Mattel.)

While Mrs. Brad kept her Barbie dolls from her childhood (which may have been the "gateway drug" for our granddaughter to love the dolls), I have never been connected to them. I had three older sisters and they had some sort of Barbie-like dolls, but I don't have clear memories of them.

I remember trolls. I remember paper dolls. I remember some sort of dollhouse.

I also remember finding a G.I. Joe with a missing arm and playing with him with my friend Troy, who had the cool, bearded G.I. Joe. We would throw them back and forth over the house, pretending they were falling out of airplanes, which is a very boy thing to do.

But man, our 3-year-old granddaughter loves those dolls. We have variations at our house for when she and her sister (and their parents) visit, including a cool smaller one with a wraparound skirt. The first time we shared her, we mentioned the skirt and our granddaughter has since called the doll "Kurt," which is sweet.

This is all new to me. It's also new to my son and daughter-in-law. They purposefully avoided giving her "girl" toys and doing such things as painting her room pink or reading her princess stories (this is my interpretation. I've never asked). They wanted her to be herself.

At 3, what she wants to be is a princess who plays with Barbie dolls.

That may be part of the attraction of Barbie: The doll taps into something that little girls (and little boys) like.

But it's not just luck. Give the Mattel people credit for figuring out a way to transform one of their flagship properties to a world that is entirely different than when Barbie first appeared in 1959.

Next up is a Barbie movie from Warner Bros. Who knows what that will do to the brand.

Here's what we know: Barbie bounced back during the pandemic and Barbie is still big after 62 years. She may become even bigger in the next few years.

We also know that old-school G.I. Joes can survive "falls from airplanes."

That knowledge might terrorize my 3-year-old granddaughter, so I'll keep it to myself.

Reach Brad Stanhope at bradstanhope@outlook.com.

When asked how to improve things, we always want to add

We say simpler is better, yet we almost always opt for complexity.

The world is a complicated place, as anyone knows if they have experienced updates to smartphones, computer systems, television streaming services or menus at a restaurant. Part of the reason is how we're wired: We make things more complicated.

The human tendency to complicate (or at least add) things is backed by research.

A group of researchers at the University of Virginia published a study in Nature and found that when asked to improve something, people regularly added features, rather than eliminating them. In other words, our default to "fix" things is to add features, not reduce them. (By the way, the University of Virginia is the only one of its type. We have 10 campuses in the University of California system, an example of our desire to add features.)

Researchers examined this tendency in various ways.

For example, when a university president asked for suggestions for improvement, virtually all recommendations were to add things, not eliminate them. When people were given colored squares and asked to make a pattern, most everyone opted to go big. When asked to improve a travel itinerary, people added stops. When asked to make a Lego structure more stable, folks added bricks, rather than removing some. Presumably, if they asked for help to improve a restaurant order, recommendations would be to order more food.

Researchers found this tendency widespread across multiple fields. They found it even in areas where simplicity is urged: including my field, writing, where it’s almost universally recommended to keep things simple and clear. Don’t write 1,200 words to describe something you can handle in 600 words. Don’t write a 15-word sentence that can be written in eight words. Keep it simple.

Since the researchers are human, they of course added something to their research, missing the irony. They experimented to see if adding a reminder that simplification is an option changed things. When participants were reminded of that possibility, they were more likely to consider simplifying. So we’re not dumb, just forgetful.

There are practical implications for all of us. Maybe the best way to improve the interior design of our home is to eliminate, rather than add, items. The best way to improve our diet is to eliminate, not add, foodstuffs. The best way to improve an organization is to reduce layers, not increase them.

This isn’t easy. We want new things. We want more channels. We want additional options. Even though we all say more isn’t better, we make things “better” by adding to them.

Perhaps we should be mindful and look to reduce options. As Leonardo da Vinci once said, “Simplicity is the ultimate sophistication.”

I can’t confirm he actually said that, but I searched Google for “simplicity quotes,” found that and added it, because I felt the need to add one more thing to make this column better.

Reach Brad Stanhope at bradstanhope@outlook.com.

The Charlie Sheen, Michael Vick of fruits: Ranking the top 10

We're heading into the most fruitful fruit season of the year: Late spring and summer. But what fruits are best?

Good question, because it leads into this week's column: the top 10 fruits. This is an important subject, intended to help you make your selection as the produce section fills up with options.

In addition to taste, the rankings take three other issues into consideration:

• How easy is it to get the fruit? Fruits available year-round have an advantage.
• How portable is the fruit? Those that you can take with you have an edge.
• How hard is it to eat? If it requires napkins, it ranks below something you can eat with ease.

Away we go:

10. Oranges. The Charlie Sheen of fruit: When they're good, they're very, very good. When they're bad they're a mess. Also, the amount of work they require is usually not commensurate with the payoff.

9. Pears. The underachieving cousin of the apple, pears are 80% water and create a mess. On the plus side, they're generally in season and for a bag lunch, they're behind only apples and bananas.

8. Blueberries. A "superfood," although I'm not sure what that means. Blueberries lack a strong flavor, but they're a great addition to other foods. If salt and pepper were fruits, they'd be blueberries.

7. Peaches. Peaches are like high NBA draft picks–unpredictable, but potentially incredible. A perfectly ripe peach is amazing, but maybe 10% of peaches are perfectly ripe.

6. Cherries. The Michael Vick of fruit: Elite at their best, but with a short shelf life and significant problems. The biggest issues are stems and pits. If the scientists who created seedless grapes could work on cherries, they could create a near-perfect fruit.

5. Strawberries. Arguably the best fruit to pick and eat, they have a unique sweet flavor. Unfortunately, the strawberry season is short and it's also not easy to take strawberries along for a picnic or work lunch. No. 1 berry.

4. Pluots. The hybrid of plums and apricots is like mobile phones – a recent addition that changed everything. I'll take them over either of their parents (plums, apricots) because pluots got the best of both sides of the family.

3. Apples. The blue-collar fruit, apples just show up every day, ready to provide. There are multiple variations, all pretty good. If you ask people to rank their favorite fruits, no one would list apples first, but virtually everyone would have them in the top three. By the way, apples got a bad deal with the Garden of Eden knock. The Bible says Eve picked a fruit, not an apple.

2. Grapes. They're No. 1 when in season and seedless grapes are a modern miracle. (The three greatest achievements of science in the past 150 years are the discovery of penicillin, the advent of space travel and the creation of seedless grape.) Grapes are ranked second only because they are not in season year-round, a handicap that is almost offset by the fact that grapes become raisins, another interesting fruit.

1. Bananas. The GOAT of fruit. Available 365 days a year at your grocery store and they always taste good. They're portable and easy to peel – and even the peel (which is discarded) is great because of the slipping-on-a-banana-peel gag. Everyone likes bananas, the Michael Jordan of fruit.

Reach Brad Stanhope at bradstanhope@outlook.com.

New words in online dictionary an assault on the language

We surrendered.

We found a white flag, waved it and let the barbarians through the gates. We admitted defeat – we embraced defeat. Or at least those who are supposed to protect us from the barbarians surrendered.

Last month, Dictionary.com – presumably the leading online dictionary, based on its name – added new words. Some were important words. Some reflected a change in the language.

But then there was this: One of the new words is "supposably."

Yes. Supposably. The word that people mistakenly say when they mean supposedly.

We joked about it for years. We used it to illustrate someone saying a word wrong. We even smirked when someone used it.

(Wait. As I read that sentence, I realize that "we" are kind of jerks. Language bullies. Sorry. "We" will work on that. Supposably.)

When the website announced the new words in March, it came after a year of pandemic and racial unrest. The new words reflected that.

COVID-19 was added as a word, as was the phrase hybrid learning. BIPOC (Black, Indigenous, people of color) was added, as were the phrases universal basic income and critical race theory.

Our language is always changing and those additions are reasonable. New words are fine.

But to add a word that's wrong is just . . . wrong.

Supposably is not a real word. No one who says "supposably" really means it. They mean supposedly.

Yet Dictionary.com now says they're fine.

It reminded me of an experience early in my journalism career, when a co-worker wrote an article in which he described an ugly building as an isor.

He meant eyesore. He just hadn't ever seen the word in print, so he spelled it isor.

The editors didn't react by adding isor to the list of words we could use. They edited. They changed the spelling to the correct word.

What's next? Are we going to start drinking expresso? Worrying about nucular war? Going to the libarry? Calling something a mute point?

I say no. I say we need to keep the barbarians at the gate!

English isn't easy. And I'm not proposing that we require everyone to speak perfectly. I'm not even saying you should be ridiculed if you say supposably instead of supposedly.

I have my own issues with speaking and writing. I get affect and effect wrong virtually every time I use them. I sometimes mix up it's and its. Compliment and complement. I have no idea when to use lay and when to use lie, so I avoid them both.

But here's the thing: In those situations, the responsibility is on me to (finally) learn how to use words correctly, or at least look them up in a dictionary.

Because I count on dictionaries to be reliable. They tell me how to correctly spell a word.

It's not the job of a dictionary to tell us anything is OK. It's the dictionary's job to indicate what is correct.

I'm not a language prude, but I stand with the truth: A dictionary embracing an improper word will affect all of us and the effect will be negative.

See? I got it right after I used a reputable dictionary.

Reach Brad Stanhope at bradstanhope@outlook.com.

Two types of sports news I don't want to read

I love watching sports and reading about sports. I think a lot about sports. Heck, for most of my newspaper career, I was a sports writer.

Sports and journalism. But there are two sports journalism trends that I dislike.

They're apparently important, but I don't care about them. And what better way to spout my dislike than here? In a column that's not on a sports page!

The first is the business side of sports, which is to sports journalism what vegetables are to meals: Important, but not enjoyable.

Sports business matters. It's important. I should care, in the same way I should want to eat asparagus and broccoli and spinach. Sometimes I like hearing about the business side of sports (in the same way that I occasionally enjoy spinach). But most of the time? I'd rather have the meat and bread and skip to the dessert.

I don't want to read or hear much about sports TV ratings. Or salary caps. Don't expect me to read about negotiations between players unions and ownership groups. I don't care about what cities are awarded future Super Bowls or Final Fours or World Cups. I'm not interested when college leagues merge or break apart.

I don't care.

TV ratings don't matter to me, as long as the games I want to watch are available. Union negotiations don't matter to me until there's a lockout. Super Bowl sites and college leagues merging don't matter to me at all, because I watch games from my couch and can't keep track of what schools are in which leagues.

Sports business is important, but it's boring. Tell me about the games.

Another type of sports reporting is also boring, but it's much more problematic: gambling.

Turn on a sports event now and it's almost impossible to avoid advertising from the big sports gambling sites. They have daily fantasy leagues. They sponsor games. They have contracts with leagues. You can't avoid them.

Turn on sports-talk radio and it's more of the same. Point spreads. Over-under numbers. Who covered. Sports-talk radio is a bastion for long-form commercials for gambling businesses that pretend to be talk shows.

I don't care about the point spreads. I don't even care about the inevitable two or three times a year that something weird happens at the end of a game and a big Nevada casino suffers a big loss or win. Sometimes a team scores on the wrong basket at the buzzer in basketball. Sometimes an NFL team gives up a safety late in a game, so it doesn't cover the spread. Stuff like that.

Do I care that a casino lost $200,000 or $2 million or $20 million? No. That's their business. It doesn't matter to me.

Do I care if an NBA team covered the spread? No. I care who won the game.

Look, I'm not trying to tell people not to cover sports business or gambling stories. Go ahead and cover it (although realize that the full embrace of gambling is probably making it easier for some people to experience financial ruin).

But as much as I like sports, don't expect me to read articles on labor negotiations or TV ratings or point spreads or casino losses.

Tell me about the games and the athletes and the fun. Tell me about sports.

Reach Brad Stanhope at bradstanhope@outlook.com.

Mrs. Brad drives faster than me, but it's (allegedly) not her fault

I've had issues with speeding.

I received 10 speeding tickets by the time I was in my early 30s, a rate of about one every 18 months. I was once pulled over by a highway patrolman in Arizona who told me he wouldn't have ticketed me had I slowed down during any of the 10 minutes he was following me. My young sons once debated in the backseat whether the Fairfield police officer who pulled me over was the same one "who did last time," while Mrs. Brad fumed and fidgeted in the front seat. I took pride in the fact that until about my eighth speeding ticket, I'd never been ticketed twice in the same jurisdiction.

I've had issues with speeding.

But that's in the past and I rarely (if ever) speed anymore, thanks mostly to cruise control. It helped me reset my view of appropriate speed after I used it to force me to drive the speed limit consistently for a few years, whether around town or on the freeway.

This an ironic column, because Mrs. Brad drives faster than me, likely because of cruise control.

A report by Insurance Institute for Highway Safety found that adaptive cruise control makes drivers 24% more likely to speed. Mrs. Brad's vehicle has adaptive cruise control – a system that uses radar to adjust your speed and keep you a safe difference from the car in front of you. You can set adaptive cruise control on the freeway and it keeps you in the flow of traffic, sounding an alarm if you're approaching anything too fast.

It's kind of magical. And it makes you drive faster.

First the magic. My 16-year-old Prius has standard cruise control, which is handy, but still requires the driver to be 100% engaged (well, maybe 95% engaged, depending on what you're listening to while driving). Mrs. Brad's 9-year-old Prius has the adaptive cruise control, which allows you to relax and steer while it keeps your spacing correct. For example: We once drove from Portland to the Interstate 505 turnoff (which takes you to Vacaville) on Interstate 5. It was nine hours of steering, which was so much easier than braking and accelerating constantly.

However . . .

Over the past decade or so, I realized that Mrs. Brad drives faster than me, which is opposite our personalities: She's much more relaxed and quiet while I'm always in a hurry. Something led to this divergence and I prefer to think it's not that I'm an old man who drives 45 mph on the freeway.

Now I think I know why.

Adaptive cruise control.

To be clear: The Insurance Institute for Highway Safety study found that 77% of drivers without adaptive cruise control were guilty of speeding, while 95% of those with adaptive cruise control were speeders. So it's not like it turns people who drive below the speed limit into Mario Andretti (Hey! A 50-year-old pop culture reference!). It's more like adding sprinkles to ice cream: It exaggerates what's already there. Hello, Mrs. Brad!

I now feel better. After having to explain myriad speeding tickets ("they caught me on the speed trap on the Texas Street corner by Armijo," "an airplane used radar to track me on Highway 101," "the cop asked me why I was trying to illegally pass and I told him I was actually falling asleep"), I feel superior. She drives faster. She speeds more.

That it's not her fault is no more a defense than the fact that I was caught by an airplane on Highway 101 made it not my fault.

Trust me. I went to court and lost that one.

Reach Brad Stanhope at bradstanhope@outlook.com.

The crazy, tragic tale of Tiger, the Brady Bunch family dog

 

Dogs get little respect on TV, but this isn't about disrespect. This is about an outrage.

Dogs aren't people, so they're largely taken for granted on the big or small screen. Even Lassie, the biggest canine star in TV history, was played by a series of dogs without any official announcements of changes.

Compare that to the attention each new James Bond receives.

Anyway, I was recently discussing Brady Bunch power rankings with a co-worker, something that I presume happens in offices across our great nation. My rankings don't have Cindy in the top 12. She ranks behind her sisters, brothers, parents, Cousin Oliver, Sam, Alice, Buddy Hinton (who mocked Cindy before being punched by Peter) and even Tiger, the Brady's dog.

What happened next brought the outrage: I Googled "Tiger" to make sure that was indeed the dog's name and found that . . .

Tiger appeared in four episodes, then was hit by a car and died.

What?

WHAT?

It turns out that Tiger was the James Dean of dogs – a brilliant actor struck down at the dawn of a legendary career. But nobody knows it.

At least I didn't, because the people who ran the Brady Bunch empire kept it under wraps. In fact, after the fatality, they replaced Tiger (that was the dog's real name. Tiger played a character named Tiger. Maybe Tiger is the Tony Danza of dogs.) with a lookalike dog that wasn't as good an actor. Tiger No. 2 was fired by the show during the second season and disappeared from the storyline.

Tiger Brady appeared in 10 episodes (four featuring the original Tiger, six with the replacement Tiger), then went away. The family conveniently ignored that they had a dog, in the Mike and Carol  ignored the existence of their first spouses. The Brady family was very good at pretending bad things didn't happen.

But. But . . .

How is the fate of Tiger Brady not one of the biggest scandals in TV history? Tiger died in a car wreck, then the producers found an imitation Tiger, whom they fired.

This ranks with the weird departure of Chuck, Richie's older brother on "Happy Days." (A theory: Chuck was a Soviet spy. The Cunninghams lived in Wisconsin, the home state of red-baiting Sen. Joseph McCarthy. Chuck's parents found out about his work for the USSR and he "disappeared." To give Richie and Joanie a chance in life, they pretended Chuck didn't exist. Prove me wrong!)

But people talk and joke about Chuck Cunningham. No one mentions Tiger Brady.

Tiger was on pace to be one of the greatest canine characters in TV history. His performance in the pilot episode, when he chased Fluffy, the girls' cat (who also disappeared from the series) was worthy of an Emmy. Then Tiger died and his replacement ruined the role. Tragedy? Scandal?

Maybe both, but don't ignore the fact that for the rest of the series, the Brady family kept Tiger's doghouse in the backyard.

Did they think he'd return? Did Mike and Carol tell the kids Tiger "went to a farm" and the kids were waiting for his return? Was the doghouse a message to the Brady kids that they'd never escape the clutches of Mike and Carol and they could get hit by a car, too?

I don't know. All I know is that the James Dean of TV dogs never got proper respect because the producers tried to cover up his death.

Tiger deserved better.

Reach Brad Stanhope at bradstanhope@outlook.com.

 

 

 

Eight facts to explain why daylight saving time is glorious

Sunday was one of the best days of the year: Daylight saving time started.

Long-time readers of this column are familiar with my views on this issue: Daylight saving time is better than the badly misnamed standard time.

From Sunday through Nov. 7 – 34 weeks – our clocks will be correct. The sun will rise a little later in the day, but the evening hours will be brighter. Then we'll go back to standard time – which constitutes 35% of the year.

It's absurd. But enough about math.

Allow me to take the opportunity to educate you about daylight saving time. Here are eight important daylight saving time facts:

• The term is "daylight saving time." Not "daylights." Not "savings." And letters are capitalized only at the start of a sentence. It's daylight saving time.
• We don't actually save time when we "spring forward." What happens is we stop wasting daylight, which is what happens from the first Sunday in November through the second Sunday in March. Smart people know that if we insist on continuing to split the year this way, the time from November through early March should be called "daylight wasting time" and the rest should be called "the glorious sunshine-honoring period of joy."
• The Uniform Time Act of 1966 normalized the way we keep time in America, making federal what was previously was a local decision. The 1966 legislation set DST at six months, then it was extended in 1986 and 2005 to its current eight months.
• Inexplicably, states can opt-out of DST, but must observe standard time. Several states – including California – have expressed a desire to go to DST permanently, but the federal government doesn't allow it. Big Brother, indeed.
• Georgia recently passed a bill to opt-out of DST. Related note: Georgia also has a law against keeping a donkey in a bathtub. The people who oppose DST also like unbathed donkeys.
• During the energy crisis of the mid-1970s, the U.S. went to year-round DST from January 1974 through April 1975. During that time, Richard Nixon peacefully left the presidency, "Sweet Home Alabama" was released, Mel Brooks released both "Blazing Saddles" and "Young Frankenstein," Hank Aaron broke Babe Ruth's career home run record and the Oakland A's won their third straight World Series. Also, Leonardo DiCaprio, Amy Adams, Joaquin Phoenix, Olivia Colman, Bradley Cooper,  Derek Jeter and Steve Nash were born. Are you telling me that's a coincidence? That might be the most productive 16-month period in American history.
• According to a 2019 survey, 40% of Americans favored dropping DST, 30% favored permanent DST and 30% like things the way they are. My research shows that the 40% of the population that wants permanent standard time also can't figure out how to change the clock setting on their microwave ovens or in their cars.
• Canada was the first country that allowed cities to adjust to daylight saving time. Canada also is responsible for more good comedians per capita than any country in the world. Coincidence?

The sun set at 7:15 p.m. Sunday, adding a glorious additional hour of sunlight late in the day. While the sunrise moves back an hour, too, it will be rising before 6 a.m. by mid-April.

Join me in celebrating one of the great days of the year. And let the unbathed-donkey-loving, microwave-clock-stumped people grumble and complain.

Reach Brad Stanhope at bradstanhope@outlook.com

 

 

If only there were a real-life version of the check-engine light

Someone recently stole the catalytic converter from my 2005 Toyota Prius, an act of thievery that caused me to pay more than the Kelley Blue Book value of the car for a new part.

The first sign that I had been victimized was when my check-engine light came on. The second was when the Prius engine sounded like a dragster.

In this case, I didn't really need the check-engine light, but that light is pretty handy. For most of us, at least – even though it causes anxiety.

Sometimes the anxiety is the "I need to make sure my gas cap is on tight" way. Other times it's the "I need to get my car to the shop before it breaks down on Interstate 80 during a rainstorm" way. Other times it confirms that you're not paranoid, your car is running weird.

Anyway, the check-engine light generally helps. And while the I-work-on-my-own-car guys complain about it, that light is helpful to those of us who aren't handy with the wrench (in my case, "not handy" means "I don't know which end to hold.")

Which got me thinking . . . wouldn't it be useful if there was a check-life light? A light that goes on (maybe in our brain, where only we can see it  to remind us to check ourselves. Our attitude or words or decision-making. A check-life light.

For instance, wouldn't it be handy if you were sharing a frank opinion about a co-worker and your check-life light came on to inform you that the person was standing behind you or that you were talking with their best friend?

That would be helpful.

Wouldn't it be handy to have a check-life light that would alert you that the two-day-old fish you were heating in the microwave had gone bad?

That would be helpful.

How about a check-life light that reminded you to stop and consider the repercussions before you answer when your girlfriend or wife (or husband or boyfriend) asks you how the dinner tastes or how the new outfit looks?

That would be helpful.

How about a check-life light to remind you that it's been 20 years since you last bungee-jumped and this one might not turn out so well?

That would be helpful.

Or a check-life light to remind you that the police had been watching for speeders the past few times you drove through a neighborhood.

It would also be handy to have a check-life light to give you a heads up that you're choosing the wrong time to demand a raise . . . or that it's a mistake to accept something less than you deserve. A check-life light to assist in negotiations for a job or a car or a home, letting you know when you overstep your bounds or fail to recognize that the person with whom you're negotiating is willing to keep talking.

That would be helpful.

Here's a really good one: It would be cool to have a check-life light to let me know that I could spend a few hundred dollars for a shield over the catalytic converter on my car, making it difficult for thieves to steal a part that costs thousands to replace.

That would be helpful. A check-life light like that would eliminate one incident that required a check-engine light.

Reach Brad Stanhope at bradstanhope@outlook.com.

 

 

When writing a correction was anything but simple

 

(Editor's note: Two of the rarest skills in journalism are writing a good editor's note and write a good correction. In light of that, the Daily Republic is not responsible for the events discussed in this column.)

When I was a young sports editor in the late 1980s, a local baseball fan who was also a pretty good writer made a proposal before he went to baseball spring training: If I got him press credentials, he would write a series of articles for the Daily Republic about his experience. He would write an outsider's view of being a sports writer.

It was a great idea.

(Editor's note: Brad should have consulted newspaper management over liability issues for this decision.)

Things went well. The guy went to Arizona, came back, filed a series of articles about his experiences and we published them over several days. Everything went as planned.

Until about two months later.

That's when the man who covered the Giants for the San Francisco Examiner newspaper called and complained. According to our reporter's article, the reporter had arrived at spring training and was greeted by a kiss on the cheek from Giants manager Roger Craig.

Ummm . . . that didn't happen.

What did?

Well, the reporter had a name that could be either a man or a woman (let's call him "Kelly Jones," which is not his real name). What really happened was that female columnist from the Bay Area showed up and Roger Craig kissed her on the cheek – at least according to our man in Arizona. He grabbed a copy of the next day's newspaper, presumed "Kelly Jones" was a woman and presented it as such.

(Editor's note: That incident should have been eliminated in the editing. Who cares?)

"Kelly Jones" called, demanded a correction and had a point. We did a sloppy job reporting. We said the Giants manager kissed "Kelly Jones" upon arrival at spring training, which implied a closer relationship between the manager and reporter than existed. It was a silly mistake, but I needed to write a correction, which as I mentioned earlier, required some skill.

(Editor's note: Brad could have asked for help, but if you've read this far, you realize that was unlikely.)

The problem was that every way I tried to write it, it sounded wrong. I started with "'Kelly Jones' was misidentified as a woman. He is a man." No.

Then, "Roger Craig didn't kiss 'Kelly Jones' during spring training." That created more questions than answers. The first goal of editor's notes and corrections is to get facts correct. The second goal is to not make things worse.

The more I thought about it, the worse it got. Nothing was simple. I second-guessed myself.

Why did we allow that guy to represent us? Why hadn't I realized that "Kelly Jones" wouldn't get a kiss on the cheek from Roger Craig? Maybe more than anything, how did "Kelly Jones" find out about the article, months later? How angry was "Kelly Jones?" Would this mistake ruin any chance I had of ultimately working for the San Francisco Examiner?

(Editor's note: Of course it did.)

Finally, I figured it out. With some help from the managing editor, we simplified it. "'Kelly Jones' was misidentified in an article about baseball spring training in March."

(Editor's note: If he wanted help, he needed an editor.)

The lessons? Be careful who you trust to represent your organization.

Never guess names.

Ask an editor for help when you need it.

And who wanted to work at the San Francisco Examiner, anyway?

Reach Brad Stanhope at bradstanhope@outlook.com.