I would never call myself a reality-TV junkie—although I do enjoy a handful of programs in the genre. “Survivor,” 20-plus seasons in, is still a personal favorite, and I occasionally find myself flipping to Food Network or Travel Channel for some mouth-watering culinary delights. But that’s about it.

I have, however, added another reality show to my roster in recent weeks: Travel Channel’s “Hotel Impossible.” The program, which we’ve written about once or twice, features hotelier and host Anthony Melchiorri as he attempts to turn around struggling properties.

One of the first things my brother-in-law did when he moved from Sacramento, California, to a small town in Northwest Ohio was join the local rotary club. Then he volunteered to plan the community’s Labor Day festival. Then he connected with the local young professional association. And the city sports association. And a handful of other clubs and organizations.

It might seem like an odd choice for an attorney at first glance. It certainly did to me. But when I asked him about it, his answer was succinct as it was savvy: It was smart business.

I was 7 years old the first time I bet on the Kentucky Derby. I wasn’t the only first grader who had the gambling itch. As one of 20 odd students in Ms. Beelik’s class at St. Paschal Baylon elementary school, I picked my favorite steed for a chance to win an edible white chocolate cross.

Looking back, there were so many things wrong with that scenario—gambling … at a catholic school … at a catholic elementary school … vying for a mildly sacrilegious prize.

I don’t consider myself much of a TV snob, but I do take pride in the fact that I watched the very first airing of AMC’s “Mad Men.” Mind you, this is before the drama earned critical acclaim, countless Emmys and emerged as a pop culture lightning rod.

For those of you who haven’t seen it, “Mad Men” details the trials and tribulations of 1960s-era advertising executives on Madison Avenue. And it does so exceptionally, I might add. Everything about the series is top-notch—the acting, writing, production values. I urge you to go out and rent the DVDs. It’s like watching a 60-minute feature film every week from the comfort of your own living room.

Almost 12 years ago, I was a portly high-school freshman known by most of my classmates simply as “that fat kid who wore an orange shirt to orientation.”

Please don’t pity me; I assure you the description was warranted. For one thing, I probably looked like the Great Pumpkin rolling through the halls with that ghastly orange T-shirt. For another, I didn’t make much of an effort to interact and change anyone’s perception. (I was rather introverted back then, more comfortable with a bag of Oreos than a group of peers.)

I’m glad I didn’t send the email. While my finger came dangerously close to clicking “submit,” I was granted a moment of clarity amid chaos and remembered the sage advice of my peer: “Never send an email when you’re angry. Go ahead and write it, but always get up, walk around, and give yourself a moment to cool down before sending. Odds are you’ll reconsider.”

I did, in the end (thank goodness). I don’t consider myself hot-headed, but this particularly brash correspondence was bred of weeks of slow and steady gnawing and gnashing that had me at wit’s end. Here’s how it played out …