Words of the year for 2020 – or through history – no surprise

You know how the Screen Actors Guild and the Academy Awards and the Golden Globes all pick the best movies of the year? Well, a variety of different organizations also pick the word of the year.

In 2020, the choice was simple. While organizations didn't all pick the same word – more on that in a moment – they all picked words centered around the same theme: COVID-19.

Merriam-Webster, considered the gold standard of dictionaries by those of us old enough to remember owning a dictionary as a book, picked pandemic. That was based on a statistical analysis of words looked up in the company's on-line dictionary.

Dictionary.com, considered the gold standard of dictionaries by those who think only old people would remember owning a print edition of a dictionary, reached the same conclusion: Pandemic was the word of the year. Curiously, Dictionary.com asked readers to vote on the word of the year after announcing that pandemic was chosen. Readers selected unprecedented, which was the first time something like that happened (Does anyone know a term that means "the first time something like that happened?").

Oxford Dictionary, considered the gold standard of dictionaries by those compete in rowing for prestigious British universities, didn't settle on one word, but picked 47. That's right, 47 words of the year. Pandemic and the conspiracy-fueled plandemic both made the list, as did a bunch of other COVID-19-related words, some of which I'd never heard: Blursday, Zoombombing, Workation.

Collins Dictionary, considered the gold standard of dictionaries by people whose last name is Collins, chose lockdown as its word of the year.

The word of the year is often obvious. In 2000, it was chad, (referring either to the "hanging chads" in Florida that clouded the 2000 presidential election results or to my oldest son, who turned 10 that year). In 2016, the word of the year was surreal, because a lot of stuff happened in 2016 (some of which was reversed in 2020).

Remember 1952, when Queen Elizabeth rose to the crown in England? The phrase future Netflix miniseries was that year's choice.

Go back to 1903, when the Wright Brothers were the first to fly an airplane. That year, the phrase of the year was overhead bin.

Remember 1789, the year that the Constitution was ratified by Congress? Unsurprisingly, the phrase of that year was Hamilton tickets, although people didn't know why it was so important.

In 1347, when the Black Plague hit Europe and began and killed 30% to 60% of Europeans? No surprise, plandemic was one of two words of that year, as was misery (to be fair, misery was the word of the year for every year from 700 through 1700).

In 480 BC, when Athens was in what's popularly known as "The Golden Age of Athenian Democracy," the word of the year was Opa! (Strange, because I've always believed that "Grease" is the word.)

Going back to 42,000 BC, the word of the year wasn't printed , but was a cave painting of a stick figure lurking in the background of a painting of a buffalo. Scientists identified the word of the year from that year as cavedrawingbombing.

Let's hope that 2021 brings a more hopeful word of the year. Maybe recovery. Or healthy. Maybe unity.

Heck, I'd be content with Hamilton tickets, Opa! or even overhead bin.

Reach Brad Stanhope at bradstanhope@outlook.com.

Days are definitely getting longer (than 70 million years ago)

What would you do with an extra week every year?

What if to get that extra week, you lost a half-hour every day?

If you want to make that trade, just travel back in time. Seventy million years back, before we had Starbucks or McDonald's. A long time ago.

A study in the American Geophysical Union journal Paleoceanography and Paleoclimatology (for which I don't payleo for a subscription, get it?) reports that the Earth spun faster at the end of the time of the dinosaurs than it does now. It rotated seven more times every year, giving the ancient years 372 days, but shortening the days to 23½ hours.

The information comes from a study of fossil mollusk shells from the late Cretaceous at the end of the Mesozoic Era.

(Admission: I copied and pasted that information, to be sure I spelled the words correctly. Including the word "the.")

Anyway, scientists were able to use the fact that the mollusks have daily growth rings (really. Isn't that amazing?). Scientists used lasers to create slices and then count the growth rings. Long story short, that method reveals the number of days in a year and the length of a day.

There was a bunch of other stuff in the report, including words like "photosynthetic symbionts," "bivalves" and "animal," which led me to think about the drummer on the Sesame Street band,  Dr. Teeth and The Electric Mayhem, which has nothing to do with this column.

But the basics are important: A long time ago, the days were shorter and  years had an extra week. Kind of the opposite of the old saying about raising young kids: The days are long, the years are short.

Also there was this: The study showed that the ocean was much, much, much warmer 70 million years ago. The ocean would exceed 100 degrees in the summer and was often 85 degrees  in the winter. In other words, there was little need for a hot tub in the old (shorter) days.

So travel back 70 million years and here's the problems you'd have to solve:

You'd have to figure out how to navigate a day that's 30 minutes shorter. Would you ask to work less? Sleep less? Skip a shower? This wouldn't be a one-day thing, it would be an everyday thing. Seven days a week. Three-hundred-seventy-two days a year.

That's another problem. You'd have to change some sayings. Instead of 24-7-365, you'd have to tell someone that you're committed to something 23½-7-372. That might take some getting used to.

On the other hand, the year would be a week longer. Do you think employers would add a week of vacation? Me neither. Just more work days, I guess. (A conclusion partly based on watching "The Flintstones," which was set sometime near the era covered. Fred and Barney had to work a lot of days.)

For me, the shocking part of the article came near the end:

"The length of a year has been constant over Earth’s history, because Earth’s orbit around the Sun does not change. But the number of days within a year has been shortening over time because days have been growing longer. The length of a day has been growing steadily longer as friction from ocean tides, caused by the Moon’s gravity, slows Earth’s rotation."

There you have it. If you thought days longer the past year, you were right. Every year, days get longer. Over 70 million years, we've added a half-hour a day. It may be microscopic, but days are longer now than they were when we were young.

That's something you can count on, 23½-7-372.

Reach Brad Stanhope at bradstanhope@outlook.com.

 

 

 

Advertising tips to make the most of 2021's myriad holidays

When it comes to advertising, not everybody can be Nike ("Just Do It") or Budweiser ("The King of Beers"). For many advertisers, the secret sauce isn't coming up with a clever slogan ("Breakfast of Champions," "Finger-Licking Good"), but tying your product to something everyone loves.

Holidays.

I'm talking about advertisements that come out around Halloween that say something like, "Prices at Stanhope Foods are so low, they're scary! They're not a trick, they're a treat for you, the customer!" Or those that come out around Easter: "It's an egg-stravaganza of savings! Hop on down to Stanhope Auto and resurrect your savings."

Maybe not that extreme, but close – and they're great. As a longtime writer and consumer of advertising, I present suggestions to tie products to a variety of holidays, which will help the product and (coincidentally!) bring additional advertising revenue to the newspaper.

These are the pitches for an imaginary business, Stanhope Products. Insert your company's name for a sense of realism, then contact this newspaper's advertising department and wait for the money to start pouring in.

Going through the year:

• Martin Luther King Jr. Day: "At Stanhope Products, we have a dream . . . that we can save you up to 50% on specially marked items!"
• Groundhog Day: "Whether Punxsutawney Phil sees his shadow or not, one thing is certain: There will be at least six more weeks of great deals at Stanhope Products!"
• Valentine's Day: "At Stanhope Products, we're smitten with low prices. You'll love our selection!"
• President's Day: "Whether you drive a Lincoln or a Ford, we won't take you for Grant(ed). One sale of Stanhope Products is worth two in the Bush(es)."
• St. Patrick's Day: "You don't need the 'luck of the Irish' to get a good deal at Stanhope Products. Come down and get half off all of everything, including a full selection of Patty O'Furniture!"
• Cinco de Mayo: "It's a fiesta of savings at Stanhope Products!"
• Mother's Day: "We've got the mother of all great deals at Stanhope Products. Mom will celebrate you for these bargains!"
• Flag Day: "Stars and stripes may be forever, but these great prices can't last! Come and enjoy the (old) glory of huge savings!"
• Independence Day: "On Independence Day, we'll save you a Fourth of the price. That's right, 25% off at Stanhope Products!"
• Labor Day: "We'll do the work if you do the purchasing. Everything you buy at Stanhope Products will be carried to your car on Labor Day!"
• Yom Kippur: "You'll really be in mourning if you miss the best-of-the-year prices at Stanhope Products!"
• Columbus Day: "Time to discover new savings at Stanhope Products and with every $100, we'll throw in a free case of smallpox!"
• End of daylight saving time: "At Stanhope Products, our prices will make you fall back in amazement!"
• Veterans Day: "Thank you for your service. And speaking of service, nobody has better service than Stanhope Products. Come on down and see!"
• Thanksgiving: "Don't be a turkey! Come and take advantage of Stanhope Products' super-low prices by 'stuffing' your cart full of our inventory. You'll be extra thankful this year!"
• Christmas Day: "The three wise men agree: There's nowhere with better service and prices than Stanhope Products. Get your (Santa) claws on our deals!"
• New Year's Eve: "It's a day of 'auld low prices' as we ring out the old year at Stanhope Products!"

Reach Brad Stanhope at bradstanhope@outlook.com.

 

 

The definitive power rankings for office supplies

 

In a couple of months, it will be a year since I last worked at my office. Since March 16, 2020, my office has been the same as my kitchen: A laptop, two screens, a mouse and a few notepads.

At some point, I'll return. I like working from home, but I'm confident that Mrs. Brad will vote for my return to the workplace. I don't blame her. She's worked from home for a while and likes solitude. Being in the house with someone who chats people up a lot is not solitude.

Frankly, I miss the office. Especially the office supplies.

We take them for granted because they're always there. Today, to kick off a new year and prepare for the eventual (perhaps) return to the office for those of us who work in offices and cubicles, I present the definitive ranking of office supplies:

10. Staples/Staplers. I presume they're expensive, but who knows? For more than 30 years, I've relied on my workplace to supply them. Before that, I relied on schools. Do staples cost $1 for a bunch or do they cost $100? I don't know.

9. Thumb tacks. Like staples, they're out of sight, out of mind. When needed, it's great to have a stash in a supply closet.

8. Mouses (mice?) and mouse pads. We take a computer mouse for granted until we need one. Then it's desperate. Most offices have IT people to (reluctantly) help, but it's convenient to have a graveyard of old mice that still work, like we do in the supply room at my office.

7. Printer paper. I don't use a printer much, but when I do, it's nice to not pay for the paper or the ink. But now that I think about it, maybe this choice should be "printer."

6. Highlighters. Want to highlight a document? If you're at home, you'll spend 15 minutes looking for that one, only to find that it is dry. At an office, you can always find a good highlighter.

5. Paper clips. They don't seem important until you need one and you probably don't have many sitting around. The variety of sizes for paper clips is an ongoing fascination for me. Jumbo-sized clips are fantastic.

4. Notebooks. Even though I do most of my work on a computer, I still write down ideas and keep track of processes. By the end of last May, I was looking around our house for partially used notebooks that I could use for work. If only we had a big supply closet!

3. Coffee. Nearly every office supplies coffee, therefore, it's an office supply. Many of us took it for granted until we had to keep making our own coffee every day. Coffee isn't cheap.

2. Post-it Notes. I love these and use them constantly. To write down ideas. To remind me who to contact for important information. To record predictions made by co-workers. My office is filled with Post-in Notes. At home? None. I miss them.

1. Pens. This is my office-supply weakness. Pre-pandemic, I traveled to about a half-dozen conferences per year and the main thing I brought back was a backpack filled with pens. I have a drawer-full at my office, but . . . they're all  at my office. I didn't think the shutdown would last so long, so I didn't grab any. I lament their absence. Pens in my desk are great. Pens in the supply closet are still good. I love pens.

Reach Brad Stanhope at bradstanhope@outlook.com.

Time for the rest of us to create a 'bucket list'

It feels like we're all supposed to have a bucket list, even though very few of us do.

Maybe 2021 is the year we start.

The idea of a "bucket list" has been around for a long time, but it really took hold in 2007, when the Jack Nicholson-Morgan Freeman film with that title was released. Thirteen years after the movie came out, you still see references to bucket lists, usually by people who share things on media.

A bucket list, of course, is a list of things you want to do before you die. Great big things.

We see people share/brag about "bucket-list" items all the time. It's slowed during the pandemic era, but you've seen these.

"Another item checked off my bucket list – a trip to Buckingham Palace," someone will share on Facebook or Twitter or Instagram. "Visited Graceland. Another bucket list item," or "I can't believe I parachuted. Another item off my bucket list."

The rest of us sigh. We've never made a "bucket list" and we aren't that adventurous. Other people's bucket lists just make us feel unaccomplished.

Well, things have changed. We've spent much of the past nine-plus months at home. We're not going to Graceland or Buckingham Palace.

Heck, we're not even going to Buckingham Charter School in Vacaville, am I right? Hello?

So how about if we concocted a bucket list that isn't so crazy? A bucket list of things we can brag about achieving without making ourselves uncomfortable? A COVID-19-era bucket list, even if some of the things were done before the pandemic?

What about a bucket list for the rest of us?

You can come up with your own, but allow me to propose a bucket list of things I can achieve, but are worth telling people that they were on my bucket list.

Here's a working bucket list, with several items already achieved, to make it seem well under way:

• Be good to the Earth by going a month without gassing up my car (accomplished in 2020!).
• Watch an entire sporting event without leaving my chair.
• Go to the dentist twice in one calendar year.
• Meet Tony Wade.
• Clean out my email inbox. (If you include putting things in folders as "cleaning out.")
• Successfully complete a Sudoku puzzle in the newspaper without crossing out numbers and shouting that it requires witchcraft to do so.
• Iron clothes that need it before a second round of laundry is cleaned.
• Spend 45 minutes awake without checking my phone. OK. Twenty-five minutes. OK. Five minutes.
• Sleep through the night without getting up to go to the bathroom (minimum four hours sleep).
• Read multiple novels by the same author.
• Clean the gutters on my house before the first rain. (A goal for 2021!)
• Forget meeting Tony Wade.
• File my taxes before the deadline. Barely.
• Grow my hair for months (accomplished in 2020!).
• Stay at a hotel and remember my room number.
• Lather, rinse and repeat.
• Remember a computer password that I haven't used in a while.
• Refrain from rolling my eyes at someone else's "bucket list" post on social media, after remembering that time I went 45 minutes without checking my phone. OK. Twenty-five minutes. OK. Five minutes.
• Survive a global pandemic.

Bring it on, 2021! We've got some bucket-list items to complete!

Reach Brad Stanhope at bradstanhope@hotmail.com.

Time for annual Solano County knowledge quiz

It's the penultimate Sunday of the year, which means – even in a year of a pandemic – that it's time for the longest-held tradition of this column.

The annual Solano County quiz, a tradition that goes back to the turn of the millennium.

Following are 20 questions about Solano County, followed by the correct answers. Get out your No. 2 pencils and keep track of how well you know the county that is home to two former state capital cities (not one of the questions).

QUESTIONS

1. What are the seven cities in Solano County?

2. What are the only two cities in the county with more male than female residents?

3. In what presidential election did Solano County last vote for the Republican candidate?

4. What two members of the House of Representatives represent Solano County?

5. Within five days, on what day did Solano County first issue a shelter in place order due to COVID-19?

6. Are there more McDonald's or Starbucks in Fairfield-Suisun City?

7. Within five spots, where does Solano County rank among California's 58 counties in population?

8. What was Solano County's largest agricultural product in 2019, determined by earnings?

9. Which city is the county seat of Solano County?

10. Within 1,000, how many active-duty personnel are stationed at Travis Air Force Base?

11. What five counties border Solano County?

12. What is the wettest month of the year in Fairfield?

13. What is the hottest month of the year in Vacaville, Solano County's hottest city?

14. By what other name was Chief Solano known?

15. Name the four interstate highways in Solano County.

16. In what decade did Fairfield experience the greatest population growth by percentage?

17. Which Wade brother am I thinking of right now?

18. Which Solano County city has experienced the greatest percentage growth in population since 2010?

19. Within 10 years, when did the McNaughton family purchase the Daily Republic?

20. What is the closest city of more than 200,000 residents to Fairfield?

ANSWERS

1. Benicia, Dixon, Fairfield, Rio Vista, Suisun City, Vacaville, Vallejo.

2. Vacaville (due to the presence of the two male prisons) and Dixon.

3. 1984, when Ronald Reagan won the county. Richard Nixon (1972) and Reagan (1980, 1984) are the only Republicans to have carried the county in the 23 presidential elections since 1932.

4. Mike Thompson, John Garamendi.

5. March 18 (get credit for March 13-23).

6. Starbucks, with 12 outlets. There are eight McDonalds.

7. Solano ranks 19th, just larger than No. 20 Santa Barbara. So if you guessed 14th through 24th, give yourself a point.

8. Almonds, at $55 million.

9. Fairfield.

10. 7,400.

11. Napa, Contra Costa, Sacramento, Yolo, Sonoma.

12. January, with an average of 4.77 inches. There's still hope!

13. July with an average high of 96, which beats August by one degree.

14. Sem Yeto.

15. I-80, I-680, I-505, I-780.

16. The 1960s saw the biggest percentage growth with a 380% increase. The 1980s and 1990s has the largest numeric growth at 19,112 18,967.

17. Harpo.

18. Rio Vista, by a large margin, having grown 32%. Dixon is second at about 12%.

19. 1960.

20. Oakland is 41 miles away. (Sacramento is 43 miles and San Francisco is 47 miles. San Jose, by the way, is 79 miles.)

SCORING

15-20: Genius level

9-14: Passing grade

4-8: Pay closer attention

0-3: Did you really try?

Reach Brad Stanhope at bradstanhope@outlook.com.

As bad as 2020 seems, there were some remarkable events

By about April, it was fashionable to complain about 2020. By summer, it was a cliché. By now, it's exhausting.

Sure, 2020 has been a difficult year. The worst pandemic of our lifetime. An ugly election season with a surge in meanspirited, partisan politics. A toilet paper shortage. That day we woke up with a eye twitch and were uncomfortable.

It's been year that most of us will be able to complain about for the rest of our lives ("Sure, this is bad, but it's nothing like 2020!").

However, as the leader of the made-up organization Optimists Helping Build On You (OH BOY!), allow me to remind you that 2020 wasn't all terrible. Remember, with months remaining before any sort of "return to normal" life is here, that this is the only chance we get to live these months. While it's been terrible to not see friends and family, to have to wear masks everywhere and to be limited in our opportunities to go anywhere, it's not all bad.

Before we relegate 2020 to the historical scrap heap of worst years ever (along with 536, when a fog plunged much of the Earth into darkness for two years, leading to mass starvation; 1347, when the Black Death erupted, eventually killing about 50% of Europe's population and spreading elsewhere; 1919, when the Spanish flu roared through most of the Earth, killing millions; 1943, when World War II was raging and the Holocaust was in full motion; 1968, when America's cities burned and it appeared we could be on the brink of a revolution), let's appreciate some good things that happened.

Because there were some good things:

• Despite two threats of severe toilet paper shortages, we made it (at least of this writing). It was stressful, but did anyone actually run out?
• Most of us became reasonably comfortable wearing masks in public. Think about how uncomfortable you felt about a mask in March compared to now. Progress!
• We put significantly fewer miles on our cars. I've filled my car up with gas three times since March: In June, September and December. Yes!
• We got more proficient at technology. Many of us hadn't participated in video calls before the pandemic, now we do it routinely. Progress.
• We gained an appreciation for traditions that we took for granted. Will you enjoy the next July 4 more? What about the next big birthday party you attend? How about next Halloween? The answer to each is yes.

But mostly, this:

In a matter of months, with support from the federal government, our best and brightest people created a vaccine for a virus that killed hundreds of thousands of Americans. The death count is heartbreaking, but think of that timeline: Months.

It took centuries to create a smallpox vaccine. It took more than 35 years to develop a typhoid vaccine. There were more than 20 years between the first attempt at a polio vaccine and when Jonas Salk's vaccine was distributed. The plague has killed hundreds of millions of people throughout history and there's still no vaccine.

But the time from when our first quarantine began and the Food and Drug Administration approved the first vaccines was nine months.

Nine months!

We live in the age of miracles. There was plenty of bad stuff in 2020, but this was a year when scientists created a vaccine for a deadly virus in NINE MONTHS.

Let's see 2021 go bigger than that!

Reach Brad Stanhope at bradstanhope@hotmail.com.

When having a smoking area near my desk seemed normal

 

The good news: Only 14 percent of American adults are smokers, down from 43 percent in 1972.

The bad news: The number of smokers increased during the pandemic, even though COVID-19 harms your lungs. Boredom and stress, I guess.

More bad news: The first few years I worked at the Daily Republic, the sports department was the newspaper building's designated smoking area, so I inhaled enough burning tobacco during that time to qualify as a smoker.

Yes, my workspace was the smoking area.

Yes, it seemed like progress. Yes, the entire sports staff at the DR was subjected to hours of carcinogens every day, since any smoker in the entire building – any reporter or editor, any advertising sales representative, any front office employee, anyone who smoked – stood and puffed next to our desks.

The weird thing? It didn't seem weird. It seemed kind of normal.

Granted, this was in the mid-1980s, so everyone on the sports staff (there were five of us in those glory days) likely grew up around smokers. My dad smoked cigarettes, cigars and pipes for years – until he got cancer and quit cold turkey. (Decades later, the smell of cigars still makes me nauseous because I associate it with him smoking cigars on trips while I got carsick. I regale friends with an impersonation of my dad yelling over his shoulder for us to roll up our windows because "that just sucks more smoke back there, dammit!").

Smoking areas were a reasonably new thing when I started at the Daily Republic, baby steps to treat nonsmokers as having rights to avoid cancer-causing chemicals. Restaurants had non-smoking areas (usually a couple of tables surrounded by people who smoked like Don Draper). People occasionally asked if it was OK if they smoked in your house. Heck, it's possible that by the time I was inhaling co-workers' smoke, the cigarette machine at the pizza parlor where I worked in college was being loosely watched to ensure that a 10-year-old didn't buy a pack of Camels.

Maybe.

My first few years at the Daily Republic – until the building was remodeled and had a second story added – were spent with people hanging out and smoking while I worked. For them, it was a nice break and a chance to visit. In the pre-Internet era, they could talk sports with us and ask what happened during the day. The business writer nervously smoked while talking about what he had to finish that day. Several ad representatives talked about the 49ers or Giants or A's with us. Others merely stood there, not acknowledging anyone as they blew their toxic smoke into the room.

And it seemed normal.

In 2020, as we wear masks to avoid being exposed to a dangerous virus – and as smokers are required to huddle a long distance from the rest of us – it seems insane that in the not-too-distant past, it was considered progress to merely expose sportswriters to cigarette smoke. All day. All night.

As the advertisements for Virginia Slims (women's cigarettes!) used to say, "You've come a long way, baby!"

Reach Brad Stanhope at bradstanhope@hotmail.com.

Scientists take big leap in inevitable transition to monkeys ruling the world

I've watched the "Planet of the Apes" movies a lot lately – and not so much for entertainment.

I'm preparing for the future.

I realized the need to review those movies a few weeks ago when I read an article that described how Japanese and German researchers injected a human gene into the dark matter of monkey fetuses. Fine, right? Good for research, right?

Well, the gene they injected is the gene that directs stem cells in the human brain. The result was . . .

(Take a deep breath.)

THE MONKEY BRAINS BECAME MORE HUMAN-LIKE.

Monkey fetus brains doubled in size. The growth was in the areas that control cognition and language–growth, according to a news release from last summer, that happened by the 100th day of gestation.

Scientists fooled around with genes . . . and created super-monkeys who could speak and read!

According to the report, scientists aborted the monkey fetuses due to "unforeseeable consequences."

That's where I stop believing them, because I've watched enough movies to know while research companies may say they have things under control, but there is always a rogue scientist who is making really bad decisions.

Also, I don't think the consequences are "unforeseeable."

The inevitable consequences of this are fourfold:

• Monkeys will gradually realize they are equal to humans.
• Monkeys will gradually realize they are more powerful than humans.
• Monkeys will take over.
• Charlton Heston will wind up in a cage.

We all know it. We all realize that monkeys – all non-human primates – are better suited to be at the top of the food chain. We all realize that given the chance, they will enslave us.

Why would scientists even consider helping them get there? What possible benefit is there to experiments to see whether monkeys can make the evolutionary leap to join us as the world's most powerful species?

Listen, I like monkeys. I've long shared my dream scenario of having a monkey "butler" who wears a tuxedo, greets me with a drink on a platter and sleeps in a hammock in my living room.

As a child, I'd stand in line at my hometown zoo to watch chimpanzees Bill and Ziggy poop in their hands and throw it at us.

I enjoyed the work of Davy Jones, Peter Tork, Mike Nesmith and Micky Dolenz.

But I know that given the chance, monkeys will take over, enslave us and we'll wind up trying to keep our history alive by sharing stories during quiet chats at night in the cages.

This may seem like science fiction, but let me remind you: We now have Dick Tracy-like mobile phones where you can see the person with whom you're talking, we have electric cars, we sent a man to the moon and Betty White has been given some sort of elixir that allows her to live forever.

What seems insane to a previous generation often becomes normal to the next.

So prepare for what's coming.

Watch the "Planet of the Apes" movies with me and have a plan.

And since reading is among the skills that the monkeys kept by the presumed rogue scientists will develop, let me add this (humans can stop reading now): I'm willing to help you monkeys! I can be a useful spy. I know where bananas are kept at the store. Let me know if you need me.

Reach Brad Stanhope at bradstanhope@hotmail.com.

Brand names discussion turns into a Dumpster fire

I told Mrs. Brad I had an idea that stuck to me like Velcro: That she and I should stop using brand names to describe generic products.

We should respect the brands.

"You mean a 'hook and loop fastener?' she asked. "Velcro is a brand name."

"You got me!" I shouted with enthusiasm. "I'll write that down on a Post-In note with a Sharpie so I won't forget."

"You mean 'sticky note' and 'permanent marker,' right?" she asked.

I laughed. She was right. I had a problem saying brand names. "I wish I could use some Wite-Out on things I say," I mumbled.

"It's 'correction fluid,'" she said. "Wite-Out is a brand name,  you nitwit."

Ain't love grand? We have pet names for each other: I call her "Sweetheart," she calls me "nitwit." She doesn't even capitalize nitwit!

However, this was getting ugly. "Don't get mad at me," I said. "I know you can stew on these things like a Crock-Pot!"

"It's a 'slow cooker,'" she said. "Crock-Pot is a brand name."

I laughed again because that's what I do when I don't know what to say.

"Can  you give me a break?" I asked. "I didn't come here for verbal ping-pong."

Mrs. Brad shook her head in frustration. "You mean 'table tennis?'"

That went too far. Mrs. Brad and I rarely argue. It was almost like I was making up the entire argument inside my head. When we started dating decades ago and I was working at a Laundromat, we never argued.

"It's a coin-operated laundry," she said, lending credibility to the idea that despite the fact it was all inside my head, she could read my mind. Is this something that happens when you're married for 35 years? I needed to Google it.

"Google is a specific search engine," she told me, still apparently reading my thoughts.

"You're giving me a headache," I said, this time aloud. "I need to take aspirin."

"Brand name, nitwit," she said. "It's acetylsalicylic acid. Bayer calls their acetylsalicylic acid pill 'aspirin.'"

This had gone off the rails. I came into the house excited to propose a new rule for us and now she was giving me a verbal Powerpoint presentation on what I didn't know.

"It's a 'slide presentation program,'" she said, apparently reading my thoughts again. "Powerpoint is Microsoft's version. There are others."

I'd had enough from this know-it-all.

"Listen, this whole thing was my idea. I know that Sanka is a brand of decaffeinated coffee, for instance," I said.

"Sanka?" she asked. "Are you a time traveler from 1975? Really? Your example is Sanka?"

"This whole conversation is making me nervous," I told her. "It's turning my legs to Jell-o."

"It's 'gelatin dessert,'" she shouted. "Everybody knows that. Kleenex is a brand name for facial tissue. Frisbee is a brand name for a flying disk. Get it right!"

This was the angriest I'd seen her since that time that a guy on "The Bachelor" was really mean. "Woah, back off!" I said. "You've really drunk the brand-name Kool-Aid, haven't you?"

"Kool-Aid is a brand name, Brad," she said. "It's a flavored drink mix. And Band-Aid is an adhesive bandage. Any other questions?"

She was angry. I didn't want to make things worse.

"Sorry I angered you so much," I said, backing away. "I guess this is turned into a real Dumpster fire, didn't it?"

"Large garbage tote."

I walked out, thinking it would be nice if we had a Jacuzzi where we could both relax.

Don't say it!

Reach Brad Stanhope at bradstanhope@hotmail.com.