What’s the best gift you ever received? Whatever it was, it surely wasn’t a material item bought in a store.

I don’t blame millennials and Gen Z for mocking baby boomers with the trending “OK boomer” meme. I’ve had my issues with baby boomers, too.

America could use a good food fight this Thanksgiving. Every day in our country, factions grow and battle lines harden. Americans are spending more time with like-minded people, their “tribes,” and less with people holding differing viewpoints, those “Neanderthals hell-bent on destroying the country.”

Everything is offensive now — even Halloween.

I’m on the fence about this, if you want the truth. You see, more school districts are banning childhood games that were staples when I was growing up in the 1970s.

Autumn has arrived. I can’t think of a better time to put priorities back in order.

Tom Hanks is right: We should be allowed to start off our days feeling good. Hanks stars as Fred “Mister” Rogers in the movie “A Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood,” opening Nov. 22.

When my retired professor friend told me about it, my alarm bells went off.

An invasion from outer space might do America some good. And maybe one’s coming?

“Sometimes I worry that if I ever can retire and do get Social Security payments, they’ll be a lot less than what I’ve been promised,” I said to my CPA, Louie the Number Cruncher.

Here’s some great news: The American entrepreneur is flourishing again. From 1980 until 2017, “the number of new startups formed each year ... plummeted by half - from almost 15% of all business 35 years ago to barely 8%,” according to Forbes contributor David Pridham.

“I can’t take it anymore! My social media friends are driving me batty!” “Ah, yes, you speak of a recent Pew Research Center survey that found ‘46% of adult social media users say they feel ‘worn out by political posts and discussions they see on social media’ — a share that ‘has risen 9 percentage points since the summer of 2016, when the Center last asked this question.’”

Twelve years ago, when I first visited the Little Sisters of the Poor (LSP) retirement home in Pittsburgh, I was overcome with peace and calm.

A phone scammer made a mistake when he called my mother. The young male caller pretended to be her grandson. He said he’d been arrested for fishing on an Indian reservation - unaware he was breaking the law - and needed bail money so a judge wouldn’t throw him in jail.

We could use a hearty dose of Robert Fulghum wisdom about now. Our political discourse is at a fever pitch. Our allegedly esteemed elected leaders are carrying on like unruly children – shouting and pouting and becoming increasingly strident with their political opponents.

Despite the accusations, I deny that I carry a man purse. According to the New York Post, the man purse, or “murse,” is the “new must-have accessory taking over designers’ spring 2020 men’s runways.”

Why do I want more Americans to buy homes? Because misery loves company.

Here’s the worst part: He had every opportunity to choose life.

Breaking news: Federal spending is out of control.

America’s declining birthrate has given me pause.

Like most people, I didn’t think much about my Social Security number - until I got a bizarre call from a total stranger.

With your military service complete, you’re eager to return home and get on with life in the private sector.

I hope to be just like my mother one day.

This Thursday is Take Our Daughters and Sons to Work Day, the one day every year when young people can learn — in person — about the work world of their parents or mentor.

Boy, do I feel sorry for Lori Loughlin’s daughters.

Spring has finally arrived in all its glory.

My Uncle Jimmy would’ve hated the late-model SUV I rented for a recent trip to New Jersey. I sure did.

Just as my annual diet has begun showing promise, my greatest obstacle to success is upon me: Girl Scout Cookie season has begun.

We’ll celebrate Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.’s birthday and legacy next week. In these angry and divisive times, we all could benefit by reminding ourselves of his words’ truth, civility and wisdom.

Much like small-town doctors years ago, he isn’t paid by a third-party insurance firm. He’s paid by me, directly, at a reasonable $115 monthly.