Making a spectacle: When I fell down and literally hit the 'ooof'

The most distinctive thing was not the rarity or that it hadn't happened in decades.

The most distinctive thing wasn't the public setting or the embarrassment.

The most distinctive thing was the sound.

"Ooof."

I was walking a couple of weeks ago from the parking lot toward my local grocery store. My mind was presumably wandering – my workday was over and I was picking up some food to bring home to Mrs. Brad. Who knows what else I was thinking: about the weather, my workday, the Giants, Paul Anka songs. Who knows?

All of a sudden I was on my hands and knees, sprawled on the sidewalk. I had tripped over the curb and fell down in public for the first time in decades.

What?

I checked to ensure I was OK. Then I looked around to see if I'd made a spectacle. Then I realized the sound I'd made.

I heard myself proclaim "ooof!" as I fell, as if I were a cartoon character.

Ooof.

I immediately jumped up. Only one person seemed to notice – an older man who asked if I was OK.

"Yeah, I'm fine," I told him. "I don't know what happened."

I checked my wrists. Fine. My hands were slightly skinned and my knees were sore, but I was good.

Then I wondered if he heard me say "ooof."

We fall down a lot as kids. At least I did.

Skinned knees were common. As a youngster, I consistently picked gravel out of my hands and occasionally banged my elbows. Perhaps I was a clumsy child, but there was rarely a three-month period in the years before I turned 10 during which I didn't fall down.

I fell down at school. I fell down on the street. I fell down in my yard or while playing sports.

It stopped as an adult. I have fallen a few times, but generally while playing sports. I got knocked down a few other times, or stumbled and caught myself – but it was usually when something unusual happened.

Not this time.

I was walking through a parking lot. The sidewalk was marked. I'd entered the store many times before. I wasn't shuffling my feet.

I was going into the store to buy two or three items at the end of a workday and suddenly I was on the ground.

Having loudly said, "ooof!" Who says that?

The next day, my right knee was skinned, but my hands weren't sore and my wrists were fine. I had no injuries from my mishap, other than my pride.

It was a reminder of my clumsy childhood. One moment, you're walking along, enjoying a fine day. The next moment, you're splayed on the ground, embarrassed and afraid that you're hurt.

You've said "ooof." Someone asked if you're OK. You get up and insist things are OK before you start walking and confirm that you're indeed OK.

The bad news: I fell down in public.

The good news: As far as I can tell, no one noticed.

The likely news: Some people went home that day, telling their friends and family about the guy who fell down at the grocery store and shouted "ooof."

Reach Brad Stanhope at bradstanhope@outlook.com.

The fleeting popularity of women's names (or boring repetition of men's names)

Since I'm old, this isn't a surprise: The five most popular names for girls in the year I was born were Lisa, Mary, Susan, Karen and Linda.

That was how things were in a world where many TV shows were still in black-and-white, but things have changed.

Out of those five names, only Mary (which ranked 124th) was among the top 700 names for baby girls in 2020. Linda (825th)  and Karen (831st) were among the 1,000 most popular names for girls, while Lisa and Susan fell off the list.

I presume that a 20-year-old reader of this column (welcome, young person! Now turn down that music and stop looking at your phone!) would feel the same way about those facts as the 20-year-old version of me would have felt hearing an old person talk about Ethel, Maude and Gertrude being popular names when they were young: Who cares?

But my point isn't just about names becoming less popular. It isn't to make fun of unusual names are now high on the list.

My point is that women's names are much more mercurial than men's names. Way more.

Consider this: The year I was born, the top five boys names were Michael, David, John, James and Robert. In addition to being very vanilla (which, coming from someone named "Brad" is worth noting), those names maintained popularity over the years.

In 2020, they ranked 12th, 28th, 27th, sixth and 80th among boys names.

The top-five boy names from nearly 60 years ago are still among the top 100 (and all but one are among the top 30). The top five girls' names from the same year? One is 124th, two rank in the 800s and two dropped off the top-1,000 list.

In fact, of the top 20 girls' names from my birth year, only Elizabeth ranked among the top 100 in 2000. Eleven of the top 20 boys names remain in the top 100 and all of the top 20 remain in the top 600 names for 2020.

Boys names are stable. Girls names fluctuate dramatically.

Why is that?

By the way, I checked 1880, the first year for which the Social Security Administration provides this information and the boys' names were consistent with 1962 and 2020 to some extent. Among the top 20 girls names were Minnie, Ida, Bertha, Cora and Nellie. The top boys names are largely still popular, 140 years later.

Why did this happen? Why do women's names change so dramatically over the years, while many of the core boys' names remain the same over time?

Here are three theories:

a. Boys are often named after a father, grandfather or uncle, leading to a repeating of the same male names.

b. Girls are much more creative, so parents are more creative in picking girls names.

c. I have no idea.

And of course, I also did what you would do. For the year of my birth, Bradley (my full name) ranked 87th. Last year it ranked 272nd. Still a classic, right? (The first name "Mrs. Brad" didn't make it on either year's lists. Hmmmm.)

Oh, and a final request.

Will the last Lisa, Karen and Susan please turn out the lights when you leave?

If that's your name and you're reading this, you're a classic. But a classic like the dinosaurs, not like a classic car.

Don't get mad at me, Karen!

Reach Brad Stanhope at bradstanhope@outlook.com.

Russian dream to clone Scythian warriors is terrifying, absurd

For those of us who grew up during the Cold War, this is par for the course for the "Evil Empire": A Russian plot to abuse science in an effort to control the world.

Really.

The background: During a recent session of the Russian Geographical Society (which probably doesn't have a cool magazine like our National Geographic Society), Russian Defense Minister Sergei Shoigu suggested using the DNA of 3,000-year-old Scythian warriors to create new people.

Read that again.

Sounds like a James Bond movie, right?

It might just be crazy enough to work. Or at least get a chance to work, since Shoigu is a close ally of Russian President Vladimir Putin and as you know, Russia is a Vlad, Vlad, Vlad, Vlad world.

Can you imagine if this works? Our finest military personnel might have to fight soldiers who were created with the DNA of warriors who lived 1,000 years before the time of Christ.

Seems scary.

It also seems like an insane idea for someone who is the defense minister for one of the world's military powers.

Here's what I know about the DNA donors, based on extensive research (Google): The Scythians were nomads who traveled Europe and Asia for about 700 years, building an empire that lasted for several centuries before fading out. Kind of an national version of the Rolling Stones.

Fast forward to about 20 years ago, when archeologists discovered the remains of Scythian soldiers in a burial mound in Siberia. It's almost always frozen there, so the DNA was preserved, like a popsicle in the back of your freezer.

Here's what Shoigu said to the people at the Russian Geographical Society: "Of course, we would like very much to find the organic matter and I believe you understand what would follow that. It would be possible to make something of it, if not Dolly the Sheep. In general, it will be very interesting.”

What? (First, literally "what?" Did the quote get run through a translating app, which made it seem so stilted? Secondly, figuratively "what?" What he's saying is insane.)

Shoigu is suggesting cloning. He's wants to bring back warriors who lived thousands of years ago, presumably to form an army. To conquer the world, if my childhood cartoons are accurate.

There are, of course, some significant problems with Shoigu's plan.

First of all, would it even work? Scientists cloned Dolly the sheep in 1996 after many attempts. There's probably been subsequent cloning since (can someone confirm?), but cloning a human from preserved DNA is another issue.

Secondly, even if Russian scientists could pull that off, they wouldn't create adult warriors. The cloned Scythians would arrive as babies. They would be raised by modern parents (or perhaps, if movies are any indication, by some evil/kind benefactor). It would take two decades before they could be soldiers, 20 years during which they would probably become fascinated by video games, music, pop culture and fast food.

It's hard to imagine all the potential issues they'd face. Would nature win out? Nurture?

The third big issue is that Shoigu thinks 3,000-year-old warriors would be a huge asset, despite the fact that Scythian military success was based on equestrian skills and crossbows.

OK, I feel better now. The crazy Russians may try to recreate an ancient group of warriors, but I'll take my chances with the American military against a bunch of cloned Russians who ride horses and shoot arrows.

And play video games. Right?

Reach Brad Stanhope at bradstanhope@outlook.com.

Celebrating a uniquely jubilant July 4 . . . and more notes

This is a unique Independence Day. In the 245 years since 1776, we have rarely so appreciated the general feeling of freedom – not just being part of the world's greatest nation, but being free from so much fear, isolation and anxiety that we felt a year ago.

Oh, masks, too. We're generally free from masks.

Take a moment today to appreciate the difference from July 4, 2020. A year ago, we were in our first reopening (although we were really just ensuring the spread of the coronavirus, leading to further shutdowns in the fall). We were in the middle of the most divisive presidential election of our lifetimes. We were trying to navigate nationwide protests.

A year ago, it felt a little bit like the world was coming apart.

We're certainly not in a perfect scenario in 2021. The social and political divisions that made 2020 so nerve-wracking are still there, even if they're a little  under the surface. COVID-19 is in retreat, but not fully defeated. There are still plenty of things about which to be anxious–gas prices, social justice issues, whether the Giants can keep winning, etc.

But July 4, 2021, is so much better than July 4, 2020. And there's reason to think that the next six or nine or 12 months will be better than the previous ones.

Maybe I'm a Pollyanna, but this is the most optimistic July 4 I've experienced in a long time. Maybe in my lifetime.

Sometimes it takes a terrible year – arguably the most anxiety-creating year of our lives – to make us appreciate normalcy.

On to the topics du jour . . .

• • •

Clarification: When I said "Maybe I'm a Pollyanna," I was being rhetorical.

I'm definitely a Pollyanna.

• • •

Last reference to 2020: Remember when we used to complain about a year being terrible because a lot of celebrities died?

Remember 2016, when Prince, David Bowie, Nancy Reagan, Garry Shandling, Merle Haggard, Muhammed Ali, Gene Wilder, Arnold Palmer, Alan Thicke, George Michael, Carrie Fisher and Debbie Reynolds all died? Remember how people consistently said that it was the worst year ever?

Now we have a different perspective.

I'm not glad that celebrities die, but 2020 changed that storyline, right? A famous person dying doesn't make a year bad for those of us who don't know them personally.

More than a half-million of our countrymen dying does that.

• • •

High five: Best songs with "America" in title (apropos to my age, they're all from the same era):

5. "We're an American Band," by Grand Funk Railroad. Includes the timeless lyric, "We're coming to your town, we'll help you party down."

4. "America" by Simon and Garfunkel. Paul Simon's lyrics about a young hitchhiking couple provide a melancholy look at America in the late 1960s.

3. "Young Americans," by David Bowie. This was Bowie's first American hit. Even better? Lyrics reference Barbie dolls, Richard Nixon and quote the Beatles' "A Day in the Life."

2. "Living in America," by James Brown. The anthem from "Rocky IV" was  Brown's last real hit song.

1."American Pie" by Don McLean: Arguably one of the 10 greatest songs of the past 80 years, even though it's overplayed on the radio.

• • •

Parting shot: For the first time in our marriage, Mrs. Brad has latched onto a sport without me.

The Tour de France is on TV for five hours a day, every day and she watches. Of course, I'm not home much of that, but it's kind of remarkable. She started watching bike racing last fall during the pandemic and now is interested in three-week race across Western Europe. Every day she tells me about athletes I don't know.

Now I know how she's felt for 36 years.

Reach Brad Stanhope at bradstanhope@outlook.com.

When I gambled on a Reno treadmill and lost

Fitness machines are wonders.

You can turn on a treadmill and walk in place. You climb a hill on an elliptical machine and never leave the gym. You can ride a bike, break a sweat and stay in front of your TV.

Those machines are great if you know how to use them.

If you don't? Well . . .

In the late 1980s, Mrs. Brad and I took a weekend getaway to Reno. I'd had some health scares and there was a fair level of stress in our lives. We needed to get away and Reno was an affordable destination.

We drove up, checked into a nice hotel, wandered around and enjoyed the spectacle of people chain-smoking while they gambled away their retirement on slot machines. We ate at the buffet. We checked out the amenities and found that the hotel had an exercise room.

A fitness room! They are in every roadside hotel now, but in the 1980s, the idea seemed luxurious. A fitness room in a hotel!

We had to check it out, so we went in through separate entrances (since this fitness room had dressing rooms for women and men. Amazing!). It was something that rich people would use.

There was a set of weights. A treadmill. Exercise mats. A guy was in there, working out in shorts and a T-shirt. He was muscular. Familiar with the machines.

I was no slouch myself, so I got on the treadmill and checked it out. Nice.

I'd seen executives in movies using treadmills and I'd seen Steve Austin run on one in "The Six Million Dollar Man." I hadn't been on one, but how complicated could it be?

"Try it out," Mrs. Brad said. She was being nice. Or mean. I'm still not sure which.

I found a button and pushed it, holding the rails.

IT WENT FULL SPEED.

SUDDENLY, MY LEGS WERE PARALLEL TO THE GROUND.

THEN THEY HIT THE TREADMILL AND BOUNCED BACK UP.

The treadmill was going faster than I could sprint! My legs hit the treadmill and bounced back up. Over and over. It was a disaster!

I couldn't take my hands off the railing to turn the machine off because I'd fall. But if I kept going, it would throw me into the wall – or through the wall.

I panicked.

My legs were bouncing off the treadmill like it was a trampoline. They bounced maybe two or three times, but felt like 50.

I don't know if Carl Lewis, Ben Johnson or Flo-Jo had used it last (a very time-specific reference) or if I had somehow hit the full-speed button, but I swear it was set at 80 mph.

Finally, I managed to slap the off switch and the treadmill stopped. Disaster averted, narrowly.

Mrs. Brad was doubled over, laughing. Seriously.

I regained my dignity . . . kind of . . . and stepped off.

"Let's go," I told Mrs. Brad, who was still laughing into her hands. We went out opposite doors, as the guy – presumably disgusted with the dork who couldn't even work a treadmill – shook his head.

I learned my lesson. Always start slow.

Always be in control.

If you don't know how something works, ask.

Don't be the subject of a story by Mrs. Brad. She brought a man to Reno, just to watch him fly.

Reach Brad Stanhope at bradstanhope@outlook.com.

When it comes to reader questions, father knows best

It's Father's Day, a logical time to turn this space over to a dad, who can dispense invaluable advice.

Or, perhaps unvaluable advice. Depends on your perspective. Let's get to the mailbag, which has been piling up since last year.

Dear Dad: My boyfriend and I broke up about six months ago after three years. After our breakup, he started dating my younger sister and now they're in love. Here's the issue: Every July 4, my family gets together to watch the fireworks in Suisun City and I know my sister and my ex-boyfriend will be there this year, even though I guess there won't be fireworks this year. I don't want to go, but I also know this is an important event for my parents. What should I do? Go and get my feelings hurt or stay away and hurt my parents' feelings? — Broken-hearted in Fairfield

Dear Broken: That's a tough decision, especially in other years because that fireworks show is so great. Years ago, we used to drive down there and spend the entire day at the waterfront. But that meant it took an hour or more to get home, because there was so much traffic. I finally came up with a solution: Now we drive to Marina Boulevard and park near where it intersects with Highway 12. It's a little bit of a walk to downtown, but when the fireworks end, we head to our car and we're on our way. You can just shoot up Marina, turn right on Railroad and turn left on Sunset. You're right back near our home. I hope that helps.

Dear Dad: Since the pandemic started, I've worked at home, but now my company wants me to return to the office. My office is in Oakland, which means an hour-plus commute, even if I take BART. I love my job, but now that I've experienced working from home, I realize I like that freedom, too. What should I do? Look for a new job, go back to the office or something else? — I Love My Home Office in Suisun City

Dear Homey: People like jobs for different reasons. Some love the work, some love the people and sometimes it's a mix. Take, for instance, the people who worked at the bar in "Cheers." They got on each other's nerves, but it seemed like they had fun working. I mean Cliff, Norm and Frazier weren't employees, but Woody, Sam, Diane and Rebecca all were. They bugged each other, but they seemed like they liked working in that bar. That was a great show. I'll take that over any sitcom since, even including "The Office" and "Friends." It had that great theme song, too, right? "Cheers" was great. I hope that helps.

Dear Dad: I haven't gotten my Covid shot for a variety of reasons. The question is whether I should tell others that. I guess they might be more at risk around me, but I'm not sure. And is it any of their business? Please advise. — Unvaccinated in Vacaville

Dear Unvaccinated: Too bad you didn't go to a vaccine clinic, because they were amazing. They were organized and professional. It was very different than the physicals we used to have when I was in middle school and high school when you needed one to play sports. I remember we had one doctor who charged $10 for an exam. You'd walk in and he'd say your name. If you answered, he'd say your hearing was good. He'd ask you if you felt all right and if you said you did, he'd pass you. Then he'd measure you and weigh you. Those physicals were crazy. I hope that helps.

Reach Brad Stanhope at bradstanhope@outlook.com.

Time to start embracing germs again to help our health

The anti-germ zealots may kill us all.

That's because despite recent events, germs are our friends.

This is not a popular time to express that opinion – after all, we're emerging from a 15-month battle with a virus that killed more than a half-million Americans, a virus we fought by washing our hands, wearing masks and wiping down surfaces. Those practices made sense from March 2020 until now.

They may be bad for us in the long run.

Don't just listen to me, someone born in the mid-20th century. I have long been baffled by the number of people afraid to touch doors in bathrooms.

Instead, listen to epidemiologists: Obsessive cleanliness can kill things that keep you healthy.

“We’re starting to realize that there’s collateral damage when we get rid of good microbes, and that has major consequences for our health,” B. Brett Finlay told The New York Times.

Finlay is a professor in the department of microbiology and immunology at the University of British Columbia and an author of a paper published in the Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences. His paper elaborated on the need for microbes and how our response to the pandemic could harm that.

The point? There are trillions of bacteria in our bodies. Those bacteria keep us healthy. They're the essential workers of the human body and they're like any community: A small minority of them are bad, the vast majority are good.

Sanitizing everything kills them all, the germ version of using a nuclear bomb to kill a few bad people in a major metropolitan area.

In practical purposes? Sanitizing countertops constantly may hurt you in the long term. Washing your hands frequently might be unhealthy. Wearing a mask without good reason could be harmful.

Because we need microbes.

The New York Times article on the subject described it thusly: “The ‘hygiene hypothesis,’ introduced in 1989 by the epidemiologist David Strachan, first made the case that bodies deprived of contact with microbes could be at risk for health problems. The hygiene hypothesis has evolved over time, and experts continue to debate many of its finer points. But it’s now clear that exposure to ‘good’ bacteria is necessary for a person’s health, and that living in too-sterile environments may threaten us in ways scientists are only just beginning to grasp.”

We already know this. We know that an overreliance on antibiotics isn’t good – not just because antibiotics weaken over time, but because antibiotics kill things that help us. For example: during the pandemic, many patients who received antibiotics got even sicker several months later. Because their good germs got killed, too.

This is a tightrope. We still need to be proactive for our health. We now know that wearing a mask and frequently washing our hands can protect us from not only Covid-19, but also from the flu or random viruses. But we also need to realize that sterilizing everything and avoiding all germs has a long-term negative effect.

This won’t be popular. People who fear germs – a significant population before the pandemic – have gained steam. Wiping down every counter and overwashing your hands will gain you friends.

But germs are good for us, believe it or not.

It’s time to get back to being unafraid of most germs. Time to consider washing our hands only when they’re dirty.

We should apply one of the lessons of the pandemic: Essential workers (in this case, ‘good’ germs) must be allowed to do their jobs.

Reach Brad Stanhope at bradstanhope@outlook.com.

A 'slow burn' secret sauce for Netflix crime series

 

Aspiring screenwriter Brad Stanhope walks into Netflix headquarters in Hollywood in 2015. After being screened by a secretary, he sits at a large table in a conference room, across from two executives from the Netflix Original Series team.

Brad: Thanks for taking the time to listen to my idea. I think this could be a big hit.

Executive 1: Tell us your idea.

Brad: It's a series. An eight-part series. Set in a rural town. Maybe West Virginia or Louisiana or Ohio. Oh, maybe Poland.

Executive 1: Poland?

Brad: Yeah. Rural Poland. Or Belgium. Somewhere like that, in case you need a foreign series. It's exotic. Wait. Is Poland exotic?

Executive 2: I guess so. It's in Europe.

Brad: So here's the plot: A law enforcement officer returns to his hometown after being away for years.

Executive 1: I like it. Go on.

Brad: The cop has a dark secret. We hint at it in the first episode. Something he's running from, but it has to do with his hometown.

Executive 2: Dark secret. Got it. This is magic! Keep going!

Brad: We gradually realize that the town has a dark secret, too. Maybe the same as the cop's secret, maybe not. People don't talk about it, but it's there.

Executive 1: Can we get some more coffee in here. Keep going, Stan.

Brad: It's Brad. Stanhope is my last name.

Executive 1: Right. Go on.

Brad: At the end of the first episode, there's a murder. We don't know how, but it echoes whatever happened years ago.

Executive 2: A slow burn. That's what we call that: A slow burn!

Brad: Yes! Meanwhile, we reveal that the cop is recovering from a tragic end to a relationship. We don't know what happened, but he sits alone and drinks a lot in a run-down house. Or his car. This crime, though, brings flashbacks to when he was younger. He was somehow involved in whatever happened the first time.

Executive 1: I love it!

Brad: He still has a good friend in town after all these years. Maybe it's another cop, maybe just an old friend who is still in town. As the series unfolds, viewers think that the friend committed the crime. There's something weird about their friendship.

Executive 1: Slow burn! SLOW BURN!

Brad: We gradually realize the mysterious old crime cursed the town for decades. No one has forgotten it. Also, no one has moved away, other than the main character. And he returned.

Executive 2: This is fantastic.

Brad: At the end, we learn what we suspected all along: the crimes are connected. And the killer was introduced as a minor character in the first episode but ignored by viewers. By the fifth episode, viewers think that character is a good guy. Only as the final episode starts do they realize who did it. And this is the second time he's done it. The crimes are connected. When the main character – the cop – has to arrest the person, it breaks his heart. It causes him to drink in his run-down house. Or car. Definitely he's drinking.

Executive 1: Brilliant! In fact, this should be the plot of every series crime series we broadcast! Even from Poland!

Brad: And season 2 is even better. One of the characters from the first season is being stalked by someone. It has flashbacks to 25 years ago, too. It slowly unfolds.

Executive 2: A slow burn! I love it!

Stanhope walks out of the meeting, having set the tone for all Netflix crime series for the next decade.

Reach Brad Stanhope at bradstanhope@outlook.com.

Which is stranger: Rotating cups or having favorite burner?

Pity my poor stove burners. Three of them, at least: The back-left burner and both of them on the right.

Because when I cook on the stove at Casa de Stanhope, I definitely have a favorite burner: the front left.

There's nothing wrong with the other three. They are fine at their job, I'm sure. I gladly use them when I need to cook multiple things.

They can burn hot. They can simmer. In fact, they probably do it as well as the front-left burner. I just prefer the front left burner.

I probably should feel bad for the other burners, though. I know they are not alive. I know they don't have feelings.

But neither do plates, cups and glasses – and I make an effort to treat them fairly.

Let me explain.

Like many Americans, we don't use all of our plates every time we eat. We have eight place settings and I suspect that most times we run the dishwasher, only two or three plates are in there, since it's now just Mrs. Brad and me. When our sons were at home, we often emptied the cupboards for a single meal or day, but no more.

Here's the deal, though: When I empty the dishwasher and put plates back in the cupboard, I rotate them. Otherwise, we'll just keep using the same plates over and over and over, which seems wrong.

I realize they won't wear out (Mrs. Brad and I have had the same plates since we married nearly 36 years ago and they haven't worn down), but it feels unfair to keep using the same dishes. All plates deserve to work, so I rotate them. It's only fair.

The same is true with coffee cups. I have my favorites, of course, but it seems wrong to keep the same cups in the prime positions on our coffee cup tree. Cups also won't wear out, but it's not fair to turn cups into the equivalent of being the backup to Cal Ripken Jr. or Brett Favre. All the cups should be occasionally used. It's only fair.

Same with glasses (although ours are plastic. You know what I mean). I rotate them – not to balance how they wear out, but out of fairness.

I've always valued fairness. I want an inclusive world. I want everybody to be able to play in a game. I don't like exclusive clubs or teams or leagues or groups. Let everyone participate.

Somehow, that translates to how I view dishes, cups and glasses: They're all equally important. They all deserve to be used and washed. None are more important than the others.

It's only fair.

But with a stove? I guess I'm an elitist. The key to being a good burner is the same as the key to real estate: Location, location, location.

If you want to be the most-used burner, be in the lower-left corner.

It's unfair, but that's how it goes.

Reach Brad Stanhope at bradstanhope@outlook.com.

National Asparagus Day? National Tap Dance Day? Too many holidays?

Monday is National Asparagus Day, the holiday on which we eat a specific vegetable for a reason that I can only presume came after an intense lobbying effort by the powerful asparagus lobby.

It's another in the line of special days – days that are now mentioned on news shows, commercials and social media.

If you're on Facebook, you've seen Siblings Day. Cousins Day. Probably a bunch of other made-up days, too.

Think back to your childhood. There was no Siblings Day. There was Mother's Day and Father's Day. There was no Kid's Day because 100% of parents told us every day was kid's day.

Now? It's a parade of holidays.

Want evidence? Here's what else we celebrate Monday: Aviation Maintenance Technician Day, National Brother's Day, National Scavenger Hunt Day and Victoria Day. The latter is a legit day in Canada, the others were presumably invented by aviation maintenance technicians, brothers and people who make money off scavenger hunts.

Other days to be celebrated this week include National Tap Dance Day and National Wine Day (Tuesday); National Blueberry Cheesecake Day and National Paper Airplane Day (Wednesday); National Grape Popsicle Day (Thursday); National Hamburger Day and National Sunscreen Day (Friday); and National Mint Julep Day (May 30).

Seems absurd, right? I mean, I can understand National Brother's Day, National Hamburger Day and National Paper Airplane Day, because I'm a brother who eats hamburgers and can make a paper airplane. But the others? Come on, man!

Wait. National Blueberry Cheesecake Day makes sense, too. Oh, National Tap Dance Day is cool, too, since people who tap dance are cool. I don't drink, so National Wine Day is meaningless to me.

Maybe I'm too much of a traditionalist, but I liked it better when we all agreed on the national days. They were vacation days, or at least days when professional sports leagues changed their schedules.

The problem came when we started acting like virtually every day was worthy of commemorating. Taco Tuesday was OK, although it was obviously pushed by the Americanized Mexican food lobby. National Pancake Day seemed OK because IHOP gave away free pancakes (it was canceled this year) and the same is true for the free Slurpees you can get at 7-Eleven on July 11 (because it's 7-11!).

But June starts with National Barefoot Day and National Milk Day, which are . . . wait, neither of those is a bad idea. I like milk, I'll go barefoot if I can. Well, June 1 is also National Say Something Nice Day and National Heimlich Day, which are . . . wait, those are both good ideas, too. And June 2 is National Leave the Office Early Day . . . so  . . . well . . . .

I guess I've changed my mind.

The national obsession with adding holidays to the calendar doesn't seem like such a bad idea. You can have National Asparagus Day and National Mint Julep Day, but I'll take many of the others.

Is this a good thing or a bad thing? Here's what I know: I have until Dec. 31 to figure it out. That's because, in addition to being New Year's Eve and National Champagne Day, it's one other holiday: It's National Make Up Your Mind Day.

Before that, though, I need to get ready for National Brother's Day. I have three sisters who will celebrate me, after all.

Reach Brad Stanhope at bradstanhope@outlook.com.