There has been an argument raging in our family for a few days now. A few days ago, my in-laws happened to be in town and decided to come by the house and have lunch with my wife and daughter. It wasn't anything formal, just a quick fast-food lunch between appointments.

I guess it's no big secret that money is tight for most everyone right now. With inflation and rapidly rising gas prices, most Americans are doing all they can to stretch a dollar. I, for one, am stretching them so far they are in danger of ripping apart. I suppose that is what we all have to do for a while until things seem to level out.

A young person asked me a while ago about what it was like when I was a teenager. I like to think that my memories are clear and it wasn't that long ago, but it was a long time ago and the memories aren't as sharp as they once were. 

I know a lot of you think I have a pretty good sense of humor. I know a lot of you, especially one of you, don't think I have much of a sense of humor at all. One of you doesn't think I have any sense at all, but you read every one of my columns solely to be able to post obnoxious comments about it and me on Facebook. 

About this time each year, my wife and I start thinking about a vacation. I don't know if we are still mentally programmed for winter and want to escape the cold, but we usually start brainstorming about now.

Within the last few years, I have gotten very conscious of my mortality. I don't think I am going to drop dead any day now, mind you, but it has occurred to me that I more than likely have more time behind me than I do in front of me.

(Note: This column was originally published in 2015 and the author has requested it run every year around Christmastime.)

I’d like to take a small survey of the readers of this column. It’s a simple question. How many of you believe in Santa Claus?

Last week was Halloween. I know it was Halloween because there were a bunch of children of varying ages in costumes lined up outside my front door asking for candy. 

Mac Davis famously sang that it was hard to be humble, when you are perfect in every way. I know for a fact that I am not perfect in every way and I would more than freely admit that I am imperfect in most every way. 

It has been a long time since I was a teenager. For some of you, it has been an even longer time, and for a very few of you that read the column, you still are teenagers.