Over Christmas, after an episode of “Buffy the Vampire Slayer” that touched on popularity and its pitfalls, my dad said with eloquent disgust: “I was a nobody in high school until they learned I could tackle and shoot a basketball.”

I thought for a moment, choosing my words, and replied, “I didn’t know if I was popular or unpopular or a non-entity in high school, and I didn’t really care.”

Dad nodded twice, firmly.  “That’s good.  That’s good.  Too many people do care and spend all of high school trying to be popular.”

I nodded back silently.  Nothing else needed to be said.