Supposedly just 8 percent of Americans who make a New Year’s resolution keep it.

The obvious reason is human beings just aren’t very good at self improvement. But some resolutions are doomed from the start.

Like many of you, I’ve been amassing Christmas presents for months now — stocking up at consignment sales, cruising craigslist for good deals, and slipping irresistible stocking stuffers into the shopping basket when the kids aren’t looking. There’s something slightly exhilarating about shepherding bags of future presents into the house undetected and squirreling them way on the top shelves of cupboards and in corners of the basement.

Last weekend, I sat down with a calendar and began sifting through all the fabulous Christmas-related events happening this month.

As I plotted out which ones we could try to squeeze in — Christmas parades, Christmas concerts, Christmas plays, live nativity scenes, town tree lightings, Santa visits, and nighttime holiday festivities in our downtowns — I had a flashback to last year’s Disney preparations.

Dear Pottery Barn photographers,

Please consider hiring a consultant who actually has kids before you shoot your next product magazine. Otherwise, your catalogs will be reclassified and shelved in the comedy section. 

From, Been-there-done-that-and-it-sure-didn’t-look-like-that.

I don’t buy the theory that texting has fueled an explosion in writing among kids.

The claim is texting is like a “gateway drug.” Kids who normally wouldn’t read or write very much now do so prolifically, albeit in truncated words and cryptic acronyms. But any writing is better than no writing — the notion goes — and once hooked there’s no holding back the inner reader and writer within.

If you can eek out the time for a trip to Asheville, here’s a great excursion for the last lingering weeks of fall sunshine before winter puts a damper on outside activities.

Giant LEGO sculptures have put down roots on the grounds of the N.C. Arboretum. An 8-foot tall hummingbird, a 5-foot tall butterfly, a bison, a dragonfly — 27 sculptures in all, made from 500,000 LEGO pieces.

I’ll admit I’m not the fastest draw in the West when it comes to pop culture fads. I’ve yet to watch an episode of “Glee” — although I’ve concocted a vague idea of what it might be about from overheard snippets between friends. And I still do double-takes when I see someone in skinny jeans, even though this tragic fashion trend has been in our midst for at least a couple of years.

We’re in the Halloween homestretch, but I’d wager at least half of you are still riding the costume rollercoaster, days away from closing in on what your kid wants to be.

Back in the days before Amazon.com — when we actually had to make our own costumes — if you weren’t in the early throes of gathering your wardrobe supplies by this stage in the game, chances were a white sheet with two eye holes was in your forecast.

I always end up with too many pumpkins by Halloween, a trajectory I am headed down once again despite telling myself to abort mission.

As a kid, everything in my house stopped for the Olympics. From the opening to the closing ceremony, any semblance of normal life was put on hold, and we spent day upon day glued to the games — a big treat since our weekly TV time was otherwise limited to the Cosby Show, Family Ties and Knight Rider.