Being 'known for' something is a mixed, incomplete bag

My friend Nate recently told me about a woman who "flashed" the camera at a major league baseball game. Nate felt bad for her, saying that might be her legacy: A dumb decision in the heat of the moment that led to viral "fame."

I suggested it might be the legacy she wanted, although later in life she'd likely want change it. Right now, she's known for something.

It's a common refrain when a famous person does something scandalous: "That will be in the first sentence of their obituary."

Maybe it's not a common refrain for people who never wrote the occasional obituary for the Daily Republic. Still, when you think of how someone is perceived, it often comes down to one thing that others use to define them.

It might be perception, not reality. Someone can be "known" for being generous when they're just self-promoting. Or for being harsh when they're privately tender. They can be known for being warm when they're cold to those closest to them.

But enough about my family of origin. Ha ha. You don't know whether to laugh or feel pity for me because I might either be making something up or making an inappropriate joke, something I'm somewhat known for doing (just ask the 1991 Fairfield High Scarlett Brigade Band or people offended by my dumb jokes about the Malaysian Airliner that disappeared in 2014. You probably don't remember those things, but I a few people do).

But back to the main point. Events can define people: Consider how the perception of O.J. Simpson changed in 1994. Consider how Donald Trump's public perception changed in 2016. Consider how Bill Cosby's reputation went from loveable everyman to creepy rapist.

But let's make it simpler and more striking: For what are you known?

To many of my co-workers, I'm the former sports writer who was also a pastor for a while. I'm more than that, but those are true.

Are you the woman who is always friendly and willing to help others? Are you the nice neighbor who welcomes people when they move in? Are you the guy who flies off the handle when the pressure increases at work? Are you the boring person who doesn't pick up cues when others don't want to hear a detailed story of your vacation when you were 18?

Most of us object when someone tries to identify us by how we're known by their associates. "Oh, you're Bob's friend who always borrows money," or "Aren't you the woman who cried in the office that one time?" or "That's right, you're the Little League coach." Even if the identity is flattering, we know that we're more than how they just described us. We're not just a worker or a parent or a child or a coach or a neighbor or a bad driver or a sibling of someone.

We're all those things. One thing doesn't define us. If we're a parent, we're also someone's child and probably someone's sibling. If we're an employee or a boss, we're also someone who has hobbies and friends and likes a certain kind of music. If we're quiet, we know that we sometimes are louder or wish someone would ask our opinion.

We know all those things about ourselves. Still, when asked about someone we barely know, we think of them in two-dimensional ways: Oh, he's the guy at work who steals other people's lunches. Or she's the woman at church who remembers my name. Or they're the couple that never mows their lawn.

Then we think others should know us as multi-leveled, multi-tiered people who are many things.

If we only remembered the truth: Most people think of us as two-dimensional figures about 1% of the time. The other 99%? We're nowhere in their thoughts.

So now there's something else I can be known for: I'm the guy who writes rambling columns that end up in a different place than they started. Although the truth is I'm a two-dimensional figure (literally, if you can see my photo with this column) who will leave your thoughts within the next few minutes.

Reach Brad Stanhope at bradstanhope@outlook.com.

If you're terrible at navigating, it's not necessarily your fault

Mrs. Brad and I spent a week in a rented condo in Portland a few years ago.

Each day, we'd walk around, exploring the city. Each day, I'd leave the condo and immediately head out, convinced I was going in the correct direction. Each day – every single day – I was wrong.

What I thought was north was south.

What I thought was east was west.

Every. Single. Time.

That is still true. When someone tells me to "head north," I only know which way to go if I'm within sight of the North Pole (Which I presume is a large pole with the word "North" written on it).

If someone says to go west, I can confidently head that way only if I'm on the West Coast and can see the ocean (which may be part of my problem: I grew up in a town where I could always see the Pacific Ocean, so I always knew "west," which oriented me).

I'm directionally challenged. I can navigate by map, but not by nature. And I'm not alone. 

Researchers know that's common. Many of us just can't get directions right.

An article in Knowable Magazine says that scientists sometimes measure navigational ability by asking someone to point toward an out-of-sight location – or, more challenging, to imagine they are someplace else and point in the direction of a third location – and it’s immediately obvious that some people are much, much better at it than others.

It appears to be partly nature, partly nurture (unless you can see the Pacific Ocean from your childhood front yard). The nurture part makes sense. The more you have to naturally navigate, the better you get. People who live in rural areas are better at naturally navigating than city folk, because they don't have constant street signs and major intersections.

The city residents who are best at navigating tend to live in cities with chaotic street designs – as opposed to a perfect grid, where all streets are parallel or perpendicular. Chaotic cities create better navigation skills.

But there's more to it than that.

Part of the cause may be – and the words "may be" carry a lot of weight in this sentence because researchers aren't settled on the "why" of navigation abilities – the ability to make a mental map of a place, using landmarks. If you're one of those natural navigators, you have a mental picture of where you are and where you're going in relation to other places. Those people (Mrs. Brad is one) have a feel for where things are because they picture them in their head, while the rest of us (like me) just guess, or say things aloud to help us remember ("A couple of blocks from home, there should be that big green building on the left side.")

The point? Like a lot of things, nature and nurture combine to make us good or bad at naturally navigating.

You're not great at it because you're better, you're great at it because of how your mind works and your experiences.

And if you're bad at it, it's not because you're dumb, it's because of nature and the fact that the stupid people who designed Portland put the front door of your rented condo and the streets in a way to confuse you and, by the way, why does your wife make fun of you when you head the wrong way?

It would obviously be easier to navigate if one of two things happened:

• We all could make a mental map of where we are, even without seeing a physical map, or
• There were huge towers with "North," "South," "East" and "West" written on them visible from everywhere.

Reach Brad Stanhope at bradstanhope@outlook.com.

Five ways to enjoy the Olympics as much as during the Cold War

The Olympics aren't what they used to be.

A generation or two ago, the Olympics were our only chance to watch many sports (gymnastics, swimming, volleyball). They were also our only chance to watch great non-American athletes in familiar sports.

Even more, the Olympics were a chance for us to show that the United States was better than any nation on earth because we had faster runners and better boxers. If Americans weren't contenders in a sport, that sport was dumb – except when the rare American did well, in which case it showed how great America was, after all. The Cold War was important. It gave us a passionate rooting interest in international sports!

Don't look for logic. It's not there. But in those days, before we had 1,000 entertainment options, the Olympic Games were a shared cultural event.

The Paris Olympics (which will probably be called the "Games of the 33rd Olympiad" by NBC Sports) run Friday through Aug. 11 (although a few events begin Wednesday). It's unlikely that anything like the Bruce Jenner decathlon win or the Carl Lewis four-gold-medal performance or the U.S. women's soccer team's gold-medal-winning overtime game or the Mary Lou Retton gold medal will happen, because we don't view the sports that way. 

Want to rediscover the passion? Here are five ways to get more enjoyment out of the Paris Olympics.

1. Embrace jingoism.

This is normally a negative (and maybe jingoism is the wrong term. Let's call it "patriotism"), but this is an opportunity to be on the same side as your neighbor who supports a different political candidate. Even better, you can finally root for the same team as that guy at the office who is a fan of the Dodgers, Lakers and Cowboys. Embrace this. Cheer for Americans. Call the team "us," because this time it's appropriate. Chant "U-S-A!" when an American wins an event you don't understand.

2. Root local.

One exception to the jingoistic rule: root local. As detailed by the Daily Republic's Matt Miller, 2017 Armijo High School graduate Luis Grijalva is running the 5,000-meter race for Guatemala. Grijavala enters the Olympics with the sixth-fastest time, which means he's a medal contender after finishing 12th at the last summer Olympics. The trials for the 5,000 are on Peacock Aug. 7 beginning at 2:10 a.m. PT and the finals are on Peacock Aug. 10 at 11 a.m. Both will likely be aired again in NBC's prime time show (and Peacock has an on-demand function). Grijalva is attempting to be the first graduate of a Fairfield high school to medal since Fairfield High grad Keisha Baker won a gold as part of the women's 4x400 relay team in the 2012 Olympics in London.

3. Watch a variety of sports.

If you subscribe to the aforementioned Peacock, you can watch anything from the Olympics. If you don't have Peacock but you have a satellite dish, cable or a streaming system with multiple channels, you can still watch multiple NBC networks. The Olympics will be on NBC, Peacock, USA Network, E, CNBC, Telemundo, Universo and something called Paris Extra. If you told me the Olympics were also on networks called NBC LOL and NBC Xtreme TV, I'd believe you, even though those networks don't exist (yet). If it's too confusing, the nightly prime time show on NBC will have all the main events, although most will be recorded. Take the time this summer to watch table tennis or judo or archery or surfing (and root for the American!). Special tip: Watch breaking (break dancing in the Olympics!) or sports climbing, so you can proclaim you've seen every Olympic gold medalist in the history of that sport. Both are new this year.

4. Complain that the Olympics aren't what they used to be.

If you get more joy out of negativity, ignore the fact that we now get about 1,000 times more live coverage of the events than back in the day. Focus on how much better it was when we cared more because of the Cold War. The good old days, when we could feel good about rooting for the failure of a Soviet runner and about proclaiming that Sugar Ray Leonard's gold medal proved that America is the greatest nation on Earth.

5. Get a cheap laugh.

Here's one that I've been using for decades: Every time someone from Switzerland is shown, their nation in the graphic is shortened to "Sui," providing the chance to yell, "Hey, it's someone from Suisun City!" Mrs. Brad and my sons never tired of that. Trust me. It will enhance your Olympics experience.

Reach Brad Stanhope at bradstanhope@outlook.com.

'Rules' for behavior on video calls vary with your age

Older Americans think it's wrong to wear pajamas for a video meeting. Young people don't.

Those are among the results of a survey on what Americans think is acceptable for video meetings, both personal and business. Some opinions are consistent: In the survey by YouGov, more than 70% of all respondents, regardless of age, considered playing music or a TV in the background of a video call to be unacceptable, along with vaping or smoking and having an alcoholic drink. Those are inappropriate for any type of meeting.

On the flip side, more than half of us think it's OK to leave the room during a call, have a pet sit on our lap or eat a snack during such a meeting – apparently never having sat through a Zoom or Teams meeting where a work colleague is snacking after neglecting to mute their microphone while they chew loudly.

Video calls – particularly professional video meetings – are common, which might have shocked the 2000 version of you. The explosion of such meetings for business purposes during the COVID-19 pandemic never slowed. In many work scenarios, video meetings are the default.

If you're on such a call with colleagues who are 30 or older and you're wearing pajamas, realize that statistically, the majority are irritated by you. If it's a bunch of 18- to 29-year-olds, the YouGov survey says that only 40% of them think it's wrong, likely because they're wearing pajamas while they eat avocado toast into an open microphone while somehow blaming you for their student debt.

Of the 22 behaviors included in the survey, the oldest respondents – those age 65 and older – were the most likely to think every type of questionable behavior was unacceptable, including turning off the camera (if they knew how) or wearing a hat (fedora? Now I'm stereotyping people who are barely older than me!).

Respondents who are 18 to 29 were the least critical of weird video-meeting behavior (the majority think it's OK to eat a meal, leave the room and even wear sunglasses on camera). Of course, young people are more forgiving and less bound by tradition. They grew up in a world where suits and ties were rare. They called adults by their first names when they were children. They've never lived in a world without the internet or cell phones.

Also, they've been making video calls far longer than the rest of us, so they've seen their friends in pajamas and eating meals and they've taken a call while wearing sunglasses indoors and realized it didn't ruin things.

How you handle video calls probably says something about you. If you're concerned about how others see you, you're likely to minimize questionable behavior. If you don't care or if you are under 30, you probably are fine with almost anything.

The takeaway? We all have personal rules for what's appropriate for a video call and many of us have workplace rules. But like everything, how we should behave on video is a moving target.

A moving target like the person who wanders around the room in their pajamas while eating on a video group call.

Reach Brad Stanhope at bradstanhope@outlook.com.

Leftover thoughts on the best meals on Day 2

I'll pass on eating leftover sandwiches. They're almost always bad.

It's not a fear of food poisoning or anything like that. It's more that leftover sandwiches aren't very good, because something about Day 2 bread doesn't work. I guess that "something" is sogginess. Most sandwiches – even great ones, like those from Joe's Buffet in Downtown Fairfield – lose their spunk on the second day because the bread spent 24 hours soaking up the condiments.

Reheat the leftover sandwich? Not good. Eat it cold? Not good. Best plan? Eat your entire sandwich the day you get it. It's a leftover failure.

Sandwiches aren't alone as other foods that don't work as leftovers. Consider with burritos and other wraps.

I guess that tortillas often have the same problem as sandwiches. They're just extremely thin bread, right? (Don't check me. Trust me.) A second-day burrito or taco or wrap doesn't work well.

So what does work? Glad you asked. Because the real purpose of this column is to identify the best leftover foods. These are the seven best foods for Day 2, counting down:

7. Casseroles. I'm not a fan (I grew up with some sort of tuna casserole nearly every week in my 1970s family), but give them this: They're as good on Day 2 as they are Day 1, which gets them on this list. Sometimes being steadily mediocre is enough. If you can consistently hit .260, you can have a long major league baseball career.

6. Turkey. I only know this because of Thanksgiving leftovers, which is the main time I eat turkey. It's good in late November, so it would be presumably good other times, too. 

5. Italian food. This generalization excludes most pasta (see below). It includes lasagna. Ravioli. Arancini (not really. I looked up Italian foods and that was included. I'd never heard the word. What the heck is arancini?). It is possible that the Italians invented leftovers because their food was so good on Day 2. If so, did an Italian also invent the microwave, which makes second-day food so good?

4. Enchiladas. The Mexican version of lasagna, really. Or vice-versa. This is the exception to the rule that tortilla-wrapped food doesn't play well on Day 2 because enchiladas are delicious when reheated.

3. Pasta. I suspect some pasta doesn't hold up well for Day 2, but I can't think of any. A pasta salad may be better on the second day, due to marinating. Spaghetti is at least 90% as good on Day 2 as Day 1 and in some cases, it's better (does it marinate in the spaghetti sauce?). Is macaroni and cheese considered a pasta? If so, it fits, because it's good on the second day, too.

2. Fried chicken. Most meat doesn't play as well on Day 2, partly because of the possibility that microwaving it just further cooks it. But chicken? If turkey is good, chicken is great. Microwave it and it's good. Eat it cold and it's good. If you like fried chicken, you like leftover fried chicken.

1. Pizza. Arguably the greatest food of all time, pizza generally holds up for Day 2. At least pizza parlor pizza does. Frozen pizza and take-and-bake pizzas fall short, but pizza made by a professional pizza maker? It's a 10 out of 10 on Day 1 and a 9.5 out of 10 on Day 2. I could eat pizza for the rest of my life and would be fine if it was always Day 2 pizza.

Reach Brad Stanhope at bradstanhope@outlook.com.

The great sports debate: Are competitive eaters really athletes?

The Fourth of July won't be the same this year.

Sure, there will be fireworks and hot dogs and the downtown Fairfield parade and people wearing red, white and blue.

But when ESPN shows the Nathan's Hot Dog Contest Thursday morning, it will be missing the Michael Jordan of eating contests: Former Vallejo resident Joey Chestnut.

Chestnut, who has won the event eight straight years, was deemed ineligible to compete in the contest because he's now sponsored by a competing brand that offers hot dogs that are (gasp!) plant-based. So Chestnut will set it out and will instead compete against Takeru Kobayashi, the Babe Ruth of eating contests, in a Labor Day competition shown on Netflix.

That will be a spectacle, but it's a shame when two great athletes can't . . . 

Hold on.

Wait a second.

That's as far as this can go because calling someone an "athlete" because they can eat a lot of hot dogs is ridiculous. Of course, they're not athletes, unless we're going to similarly say athletes include jugglers and tap dancers and . .. I don't know, people who eat a 64-ounce steak and thus get it free.

Competitive eaters are not athletes and to take an old-school view, many of the people who now get called "athletes" aren't really. They're performers, not athletes.

Being an athlete means doing a sport. A sport involves athletes competing.

Do you think that's a bad definition? You're right because I don't have a great definition. My definition is similar to that of Supreme Court Justice Potter Stewart, who famously said of obscenity in 1964, "I know it when I see it." Same thing for sports and non-sports.

So here's a cheat sheet for future reference on what is a sport and what isn't.

Is competitive eating a sport? No, it's a sideshow. Is chess a sport? No, it's a board game. Is cheerleading a sport? Yes, when there are judges and scoring, but not when it's on the sidelines encouraging fans to cheer for players in another sport. 

Is poker a sport? Absolutely not, it's a card game. Is auto racing a sport? Yes. Is fishing a sport? Um . . . I guess so. Come back to me later on this, but let's say yes. What about video gaming? Absolutely, completely, 100% not. It's a game. It's not a sport, even if you're doing a video game of a real sport.

Here's the thing: Everyone doesn't have to be an "athlete."

You can be great at video games and be a great gamer. Isn't that enough? Isn't being great at chess enough without acting like you're an athlete? You can be great at poker and probably win money (and then lie and act like you've won more than you actually have. But with a poker face, who can tell?) and isn't that enough?

Joey Chestnut is the greatest competitive eater ever. People know his name. He's wealthy. He has a sponsor. He's part of a streaming event on Netflix.

He's not an athlete. He's an eater.

However, one final tip: Chestnut will beat Kobiyashi on Memorial Day. Because he's from Solano County, home of champions.

Reach Brad Stanhope at bradstanhope@outlook.com.

When was culture at its peak? When we were young

For most of us, the middle school years are difficult. Our hair is crazy, our hormones are at war, we're getting acne, we can't figure out how to fit in a group and we're convinced that everyone is constantly thinking about and judging us.

Are we cool? Are we a dork? Why do we keep getting zits?

Those are tough years. But you know what's great during those years?

The economy. Movies. Television. Music.

That is true regardless of when middle school happened, at least according to an analysis of a YouGov survey by the Washington Post Department of Data, which concluded that we all think that what happened when we were 12 to 15 years old was the peak for those areas.

As someone who thinks "Welcome Back Kotter" and "Afternoon Delight" and the first "Rocky" movie were high points in American culture, and that Gerald Ford might have been right when he pushed people to wear Whip Inflation Now (WIN) buttons, the "middle school was the peak for culture" theory rings true.

For decades I've heard people lament the current state of culture and wonder why it can't be like it was back in the old days. "The old days" were always a specific time in their life that I didn't find particularly compelling (unless they were my age).

Because I was blessed to remember "Happy Days" and "The Waltons" and "Chico and the Man."

The Post survey was fascinating in its specificity. It concluded that the 2,000 surveyed Americans couldn't agree on a specific year that music, fashion, the economy, TV or movies were best. But a deeper look revealed specifics related to the age of the person being questioned.

As mentioned, the Post's crack team found that most of us feel like music was at its best in the years when we were 12-15. That's from seventh grade through the sophomore year in high school. Does that seem right? It doesn't seem like "Jive Talkin'" (one of the great songs of all time that was a hit when I was 13) to me.

But our views go beyond that window.

We think communities were closest in whatever years we were 4 to 7 (when we didn't realize that our parents weren't really friends with our neighbors, they just tolerated them). 

The Post study found that we think families were happiest, morals were best and news reporting was most reliable in whatever years we were 8 to 11.

And we think fashion and sports were best during the years we were 16 to 19. 

This makes a lot of sense once you hear other people's opinions. When you hear someone say that music was at its best in the early 1960s or the late 1980s or 2000, you can do the math and confirm that they were 12 to 15 at that time. When we say we miss the times when neighborhoods were closer and we really took care of each other, you can guess that they're talking about the years when they were a small child and it seemed like their parents really liked the family that lived next door.

And when they lament the latest fashions, you can figure they're comparing them to whatever godawful fashions were hot when they were in their late teens.

So it's debatable when we had the best TV or the best music or the best economy or the best fashion. But it's unquestionable that when we're nostalgic, it's not so much for the music or entertainment of an era, it's for when we were young.

This means that for a generation of young people, the music, TV, economics, fashion and sports of 2024 will be considered the best ever, because they are in the golden years right now.

By the way, "Golden Years" by David Bowie is a great song.

It came out when I was 13.

Reach Brad Stanhope at bradstanhope@outlook.com.

'Dear Dad' gives pears pearls of wisdom on Father's Day

Today is Father's Day, the 15th most important holiday of the year,  just ahead of Tony Orlando's birthday and just behind Arbor Day.

It's a day to honor Dad with a gift of socks or a wallet or a tool. Maybe let him sleep while watching sports (like every weekend) or have his favorite meat for dinner.

But it's also the day of another tradition: The annual "Ask Dad" column in the Daily Republic. Like "Dear Abby," "Miss Manners" and "Dear Prudence," this column provides commonsense answers to "readers" who submit "questions."

Pay no attention to the quotation marks. I'm sure they mean nothing.

Let's get to today's letters.

Dear Dad:

My daughter will soon turn 8 and most of her friends have big birthday events – parties at the trampoline center or a trip to Disneyland or a concert by the grandsons of the New Kids on the Block. My husband thinks doing that is a waste of time and money, but I don't want my daughter to feel left out. What's the best approach?

– Confused in Cordelia

Dear Confused:

She's turning 8? That's the year I started playing baseball in a real league. It wasn't Little League yet – you had to be 9 – but there was a kid in our league who I swear was 12 or 13. He was probably 6 feet tall and had the start of a mustache. Anyway, our pitcher was Mike Dellabalma, a friend of mine. Mike could throw pretty hard for an 8-year-old and he drilled this kid in the ribs. The kid started crying and nobody knew what to do. The next day, Mike strutted around the playground like a king. Good luck on the birthday party.

Dear Dad:

When my wife and I go on a trip, I do most of the driving. However, she constantly criticizes me. She thinks I drive too fast, even though I stay within 10 mph of the speed limit. That's what everyone says is the real limit, that cops won't pull you over if you're within 10 mph of the limit. My wife says that's crazy. Who is right?

– Speedy in Suisun City

Dear Speedy:

Remember when the highways all had 55 mph limits? That was crazy. It reminds me of "I Can't Drive 55," by Sammy Hagar. That had an awesome video. Did you know he's from the Bay Area? Or at least he lived here. Still, I think the David Lee Roth version of Van Halen was better than the Hagar version. Not by a lot, but "Panama" was peak Van Halen. I hope you have a good trip next time you drive.

Dear Dad:

Our adult daughter comes over for dinner every Sunday and recently she began bringing her latest beau. The only problem is that he has terrible table manners. I'm not snooty, but "Ron" eats with his mouth open, belches and sometimes complains about the food. Our daughter should notice, but she seems to ignore it. Should I say something or just let it go (and try to ignore his rudeness)?

– Waiting in Vacaville

Dear Waiting:

When I was in college, I would go to Denny's with my friends at any time. We would get breakfasts (the Grand Slam!) because they were cheap, but we didn't have much money. One time, we talked it over and after dinner, a couple of us got up to go to the bathroom. Then another person said they had to make a phone call and left. Then two other guys said they had to go to the bathroom. Long story short, we all met at the car and left, leaving the last guy – Tony – to pay the entire bill. He was mad when we finally picked him up an hour later, but we gave him enough money to cover it. What a great prank. Maybe I'll get a Grand Slam soon. Enjoy your dinner.

Reach Brad Stanhope at bradstanhope@outlook.com.

New time zone on the moon won't be lunacy. Get it?

What time is it on the moon? The same as New York? Paris? Fairfield? Bejing? (The cities generally considered "The Big Four" on Earth.)

The answer is coming.

Earlier this year, the White House directed NASA to create a time zone for the moon. The idea is to have lunar time set by the end of 2026.

It's actually not a "time zone," because time passes at a different rate on the moon. It's a different time system. Kind of.

The idea was explained in an article in USA Today: "On Earth, Coordinated Universal Time, or UTC, is the standard used to set all time zones around the world. Eastern Time is four hours behind UTC. The new lunar time zone will be known as Coordinated Lunar Time, or LTC. It's not yet determined whether the moon will have one or multiple time zones."

If you're like me, the main thing that jumped out at you is that Coordinated Universal Time is shortened to UTC, which is not in the correct order. Nor is it proper to shorten Coordinated Lunar Time to LTC. How can we expect people who can't get acronyms right to get moon time right?

However, I'll listen. Because it makes sense, sort of. It's not looney.

Get it? Looney? Lunar?

Anyhoo . . . time moves a little faster on the moon than on Earth, due to our favorite satellite having less mass, lighter gravity and fewer hours spent in doctor's waiting rooms when compared to Earth. The moon's day is about 58 microseconds shorter than the Earth's, which means that over five to 10 years, moon time is faster by about the amount of time it takes to blink.

Seems like nothing big to me, but with NASA planning to send astronauts back to the moon in the next few years (where they'll find a big "Neil was here" sign, with a happy-face drawing), it could be the difference between computer synchronization being correct or off.

It could also lead to astronauts tuning in a few microseconds early for the kickoff of an NFL game that they thought started at 1:05 p.m. because they didn't adjust for lunar time. The result? Our astronauts could be forced to watch a few microseconds of an inane pregame show instead of just the game.

That would be lunacy. (Get it? Lunacy?)

Apparently, this is a long play by those involved, who assume that at some point there will be commercial activity on the moon and that countries will mine for resources there (what could possibly go wrong, other than changing the makeup of the moon, leading to disastrous tidal activity on Earth?).

It's unclear whether there will be separate time zones on the moon or if it will all be the same time ("It's zero dark thirty. Like it always is," someone stuck on the dark side of the moon – the actual place, not the Pink Floyd album – will say while snickering and being accused of making to the loss of the 58 microseconds that day even worse with dumb jokes.)

While this seems like a lot of work for something that doesn't really matter, I'll again trust the scientists, with a correct amount of skepticism.

Is it a coincidence that this idea is being floated at the same time space tourism is becoming a bigger thing? Is it possible that someday we'll have scheduled flights to the moon? Is it possible that the companies who plan to do that are playing three-dimensional chess and pressuring the White House to create a separate lunar time zone so that when we complain about our flights to the moon being late, they can say that we're actually on time if we calculate it by lunar time?

Who knows? All I know is that lunar time will be slightly different than Earth's time, giving moon people time to watch old NFL games with that legendary Houston Oilers quarterback.

You know, Warren Moon. Get it? Moon?

Reach Brad Stanhope at bradstanhope@outlook.com.

Commemorate the dates in two iconic songs this week

Happy holiday season to those who observe.

This week commemorates the anniversaries for two legendary story songs of the late 1960s and early 1970s. Monday is June 3, the day the protagonist of Bobbie Gentry's "Ode to Billy Joe" discovered that Billy Joe McAllister jumped off the Tallahatchie Bridge. And Thursday is June 6, the day the truck convoy started that inspired the famed CB-trucker song "Convoy," by C.W. McCall.

What a week!

This week competes with the 18-day period in September from Sept. 3 (the day the father of the protagonist in the Temptations' "Papa Was a Rolling Stone" died) and Sept. 21 (the night that Earth Wind and Fire reminds us to remember).

This week is worth a deeper dive, starting with Billy Joe McAllister's fatal jump off the bridge.

The story takes place on Choctaw Ridge in Mississippi and most historians believe Billy Joe likely jumped June 2, since June 3 was the day the song's protagonist's mother dropped the news of his plunge during the fateful family lunch that included black-eyed peas, biscuits and apple pie.

The song tells a sad and unclear story about the relationship between the girl in the song and Billy Joe, who liked to drop something (most likely flowers) off the bridge into the water. Did she know Billy Joe was contemplating suicide? Did he actually die? The song implies Billy's jump was fatal, but never says it explicitly.

But Monday (and perhaps Sunday), we remember Billy Joe. And the muddy waters off the Tallahatchie Bridge. And the protagonist, whose father soon died of a virus and whose brother married within a year and bought a store in Tupelo, Mississippi.

Three days later comes another major song holiday, the night that a truck driver and C.B. radio operator  "Rubber Duck" started a convoy across the United States, starting just east of Los Angeles ("shaky town") on Interstate 10 with his Kenworth truck, loaded with logs

Their protest was apparently against the newly instituted 55 mph speed limit on freeways and their destination was the New Jersey shore – 3,000 miles away. What starts as three truckers ultimately becomes 1,000. They reach Flagstaff, Arizona, then Tulsa, Oklahoma before they run into trouble. They then head to Chicago, where the Illinois National Guard is called up along with armored cars and other vehicles, including tanks and jeeps. The truckers crash through and keep going to the Jersey Shore, crashing the toll booths at 98 mph.

While celebrating the convoy (and wondering if they drove into the Atlantic Ocean), we should remember something else. There's no way this ended June 6. The convoy started in Los Angeles June 6 and headed east, which means in addition to the time it takes to drive coast-to-coast (Google tells me that with today's speed limits, it would take 41 hours to drive from Los Angeles to the Jersey Shore), they lost an additional three hours due to the time zones. So if they left Los Angeles at 10 p.m. June 6 (it started "by the light of the moon," so it was after dark), they wouldn't arrive at the Jersey Shore until early June 9.

Therefore, we should commemorate Billy Joe McAllister's ill-fated jump June 2-3 and the convoy trucker's cross-country dash June 6-9.

What a week! Be sure to drop some flowers off a bridge into muddy waters, then tell someone to "let them trucker's roll, 10-4!"

Happy holidays.

Reach Brad Stanhope at bradstanhope@outlook.com.