Column: Dear Jack

When I was in grade school, I would wake up way earlier than I needed to and head upstairs to start my day. I grabbed a huge bowl of cereal, possibly a pop tart, and would read two to three newspapers.

I would read the papers from cover to cover, and by the time I was about 12 I could beat just about every adult I knew at Jeopardy. It was a great use of my time. Rather than just sleeping an extra few minutes, I was actually learning everything from civics to sports. My dad used to call me a walking encyclopedia, and I really should start doing this again because I feel like I getting dumber and dumber with each passing day. I read a lot online, but it's not the same as actually having the physical copy of the paper and I should invest in one or two everyday.

It was during these early morning reading sessions that I really gained a love for newspapers and most likely subconsciously was already setting up the foundation of what I would do for a living.

I've covered just about every type of story at papers both big and small, but there is one thing I used to just love to read that I have never done. Columns like "Dear Abby" would fascinate me. I think a lot it was just how snarky she was and oftentimes had an in your face, yet simple solution to one of life's many problems. As a kid and even into adulthood I thought this would have to be probably the greatest gig one could get at a newspaper, especially if it was a nationally syndicated column that probably comes with a hefty paycheck.

This morning I decided to read a few recent responses from "Dear Abby", which the original writers daughter has carried on.

A question was posed in a recent submission from a parent whose child had asked them to stay away from their band performances because her presence makes him nervous. The mother asked Abby what she should do in this situation. Should she respect his wishes? Should she go because that is what she wants to do?

There was certainly nothing wrong with the response in "Dear Abby", but I'd really like to try a shot at answering this and what better way to do that than in my own column.

"Dear Mother: I'm sorry to hear of the predicament you find yourself in. I'm sure it has caused a lot of unnecessary stress in your household. I feel there is really only one remedy to this situation. You need to tell your son that you brought him into this world and over the past 15 plus years you have provided him food, shelter, clothing and a very expensive instrument he doesn't like to play in front of you. Tell him you are the adult, he is the kid, and if he is so nervous than he's just going to have to put on his big boy pants and deal with it. You can say that I'm not trying to embarrass you, but if he would like, you can wear curlers in my hair and your bathrobe to the next performance. Give him a big hug and say 'sorry I make you so nervous, but you are getting to be an adult and there will be plenty of things that will make you nervous, but you will find you have to go ahead and do them.' There are a lot worse things than a parent taking interest in a child's life. Tell him to practice in front of you in the living room for as long as it takes to shake those nerves."

While I'm sure that was a bit over the top, I really had a lot of fun typing that. I'm sure if she followed my advice the kid would probably just quit the band and hide in his room all day. I see on a daily basis this is a popular thing for the teenager at my house.

I'm sure I'll never get a shot at writing a syndicated advice column, but I sure wanted to give it a try.