I procrastinated this week. I was mulling over several topics and, before I realized, it’s 2 p.m. on deadline day and I haven’t started.

Some weeks are like that.

Usually I write this column on Friday ... Sunday night at the latest.

Mom would’ve told me I wasn’t committed to any of those topics. She’d be right. There should be some semblance of passion for what you’re writing; otherwise, it tends to be mushy dribble, little substance, zero effect.

Dad, on the other hand, would have told me to crank out a column right this minute. Do not pass go. Do not collect $200. Get the job done.

And here’...