A shorter version of this column first appeared on DallasNews.com . You can find more stuff on the Lifestyle/Entertainment section's Whatever blog. -------------- My kids made their way around the roller rink as colored lights blinked overhead and music thumped from the speakers. Having spent many afternoons of my childhood at skating rinks, happily doing loops on a roll to nowhere, this could’ve been a moment when I lived vicariously through my three sons and shared their joy. But how could my three sons find any joy in this? Over and over they plopped to the wood rink in an assortment of falls as comically awkward as the contestants on that celebrity diving show Splash. My kids stumbled back upright like newborn fawns only to fall down again, and I cringed as wheels zoomed by and came perilously close to turning fingers into speed bumps. This trip to Thunderbird Roller Skating Rink in Plano, the idea of my 10-year-old, Ryan, would surely end quickly. Ryan was g...

The Girl Scout cookie displays in front of grocery stores usually have boxes piled on tables, poster board signs screaming with exclamation points and at least one parent with the look of “get me out of here.” But recently I found a neighborhood cookie connection with the added hook of a singing scout. Would you like to buy … Would you like to buy … Would you like to buy some Girl Scout Cookies? My response, which I kept in my head to protect the girl from earning a badge for enduring off-key singing, was this: No, I don’t want … No, I don’t want … No, I don’t want any more of your cookies. I smiled at the girl, gave a friendly “no thanks” wave and walked past. She was showing some real cheerleader spark, so you might think I felt bad as I let the sliding doors close behind me. Well, yes, I did. I’m not heartless. But that won’t stop me from turning down another cookie salesman today. And tomorrow. And for whatever time remains in this year’s nationwide ...

A slightly shorter version of this column first appeared in The Dallas Morning News and on DallasNews.com . You can find more stuff on the Lifestyle/Entertainment section's Whatever blog. -------------- She’s a dog on a mission. That’s what my wife and I used to say about Maggie, our oddly beautiful Corgi mix, when she tried to pull us down the street on walks. I don’t think she was going anywhere in particular, but she wanted to get somewhere fast. She would sprint forward, run out of leash and then lunge forward with bunny hops. It was like the sidewalk was a runway and she was auditioning for a spot on Santa’s reindeer team. It’s amazing how much enthusiasm dogs can have for, well, everything. They chase squirrels with reckless abandon, feverishly bark at passing cars, scarf their food from the dog bowl and squeak the life out of chew toys. They’re like sports cars revving to the red line, trying to get as many miles out of every day as possible. Granny Magg...

A shorter version of this column first appeared in The Dallas Morning News and on DallasNews.com on the Entertainment section's Whatever blog. Because there is no public archive of the humor columns, I post the columns here. --------------   When I was in the early grades of elementary school, I always pulled in lots of cards on Valentine’s Day. My card-storage containers were minimally decorated shoe boxes that lacked   ambitious additions such as puffy stickers or glitter, but each year, nobody in the class got more cards than me. Of course, nobody got less, either. Like most schools, Horizon Elementary required that we give Valentines to all our classmates to protect the kids from the Charlie Brown treatment. You remember how Charlie Brown got shut out each Valentine’s Day, right? All he got from his “Peanuts” pals was a heart that said “Forget it Kid.” When I was a 7-year-old still bubble-wrapped in innocence, that was nearly as disturbing as the mean, close-m...

This column, like many others, first appeared in The Dallas Morning News and on DallasNews.com . Because there is no archive of my humor columns there, I let some time pass before posting the columns here. -------------- You woke up on New Year’s Day, perhaps a little groggy after sleeping on a party hat or a plastic champagne flute, filled with motivation to get it together in 2013. Two weeks later, you’re more organized, hitting the gym, eating healthier and tackling your budget. Or, uh, maybe you’re still “about to get on that.” Or maybe you’re just looking forward to the next holiday: Ditch Your New Year’s Resolutions Day. It arrives every Jan. 17, although not in any official capacity. We’re about as likely to get time off work for other commemorative days this month, such as National Peanut Brittle Day, Bubble Wrap Appreciation Day, or the edifying, unmitigatedly necessitous Thesaurus Day. The ditch-your-resolution day isn’t a reason to celebrate, but there’s...

I remember little from age 5, but I can still see the basketball hoop waiting for me under the Christmas tree. It was a real basketball hoop, with a regulation rim, a shiny white net and a wooden backboard that my grandpa had made. Clearly, Santa had looked past the “X” marks in my column on our family’s Santa Claus Behavior Chart. Sure, I had some gold stars on that poster board, but there were a lot of black marks under “getting along with brother and sister.” I think that was the year I tried to flush my sister’s Winnie the Pooh shirt down the toilet. Accidentally, of course. Right, Santa? Anyway, the image of that basketball hoop stays with me. Strangely, it’s one of the few Christmas gifts I still remember from my Santa years. What I do remember, vividly, is how I felt on Christmas Eve. Lying in bed, my heart raced as I struggled to keep my legs still under the covers. My brother and I shared a room, and in a powerful display of Christmas spirit, we didn’t fight. Well, not...

This column, like many others, first appeared in The Dallas Morning News and on DallasNews.com . I usually let some time pass before posting them here.  -------------- The holidays are here, and you can see the magic in the Christmas lights, the family reunions and the excitement on a child’s face.   You can also feel the magic with a simple act of goodwill, such as helping a stranger, making a charitable contribution or by turning off Madonna’s spirit-crushing rendition of “Santa Baby.” But some of the best examples of holiday magic, I mean really wondrous stuff, arrives in our mailboxes. It’s the magic that turns a 30-year-old living with his parents into a misunderstood genius who is preparing to launch his own company and is – putting your thumb next to your index finger – this close to finding a cure for cancer. That’s right, I’m talking about the holiday brag letter! If you guessed it by the time you read “misunderstood genius” above, then, like me, you p...