The squirrel is a curious creature that is one-third rat, one-half furniture duster, and four-fifths dog toy. I have always enjoyed the antics of squirrels although I have also rained curses upon them as they raided my bird feeders. As thieves, they are relentless and clever as you may surmise from the many squirrel-proof feeder designs on the market. The squirrel can climb anything you hang a feeder from. If you install some sort of baffle to deter climbing, the squirrel will leap down from above. A few fancier feeders are designed to seal shut under the squirrel’s weight. Some squirrels, though, will eventually figure out how to distribute their weight so that they can feast. Relentless.

You are no doubt aware of the series of megahit movies that started with The Matrix in 1999. Here is a brief overview for those who — due to a lengthy coma or prison sentence — remain somehow ignorant of the premise of the original movie: Sometime in the future, humanity has been linked en masse to a simulated reality called, you guessed it, “the matrix,” which is run by artificial intelligence. (As I wrote that sentence, I swear I heard Alexa giggle.

The sunk cost fallacy assumes that because something warranted a significant financial investment in the past, it is too valuable to do away with no matter the evidence.

Similarly, what I call the sunk virtue fallacy assumes that because a significant investment of effort in the past was effective, it is too valuable to do away with, no matter the evidence. Clinging to sunk virtue can be like clinging to a half-wrecked boat. You are lucky to keep your head above water.

Pam was a senior manager with ambitions. She had climbed higher in her organization than she had ever before imagined, but now, heady with that success, she could easily imagine climbing higher still. What got her to this level was tenacity and focus, never being satisfied with anything less than perfection. She always got the job done at any cost, and she made damn sure others saw her that way.

Do you know what a bootstrap is? It’s that little loop or tab at the top of a boot. It may in the back, or there may be one on each side. It’s there to help you pull the boot onto your foot.

Do you have a pair of boots like that? I want you to try something with them. Go ahead and get them. I’ll wait.

It is a bit hard for me to admit it, but I believe in ghosts. It’s particularly hard for me because I am a highly rational person. As a baseball fan, I scoff at the foolish superstitions that riddle the game. During a potential no-hitter, I will openly talk in the stands about the hit count, which freaks everyone out.

My dad has always been a natty dresser. Even now in assisted living, he insists that the color of his pants and shirt be compatible. He never appears for meals two days in a row wearing the same thing, and is appalled at the prospect.

Coming up, I got to see my father wearing all sorts of weird but fashionable (then) items. If you don’t know what a dickey turtleneck is, look it up and be prepared to guffaw. Ah, the seventies.

Please refrain from using imperatives and the imperative mood. It is annoying, so just stop it.If you are not sure what an imperative is, look it up.Reflect on the deluge of the imperative that washes over our everyday existence, and be sure to observe how much you contribute to this imperative abuse. Face the fact that you are likely a major offender as well as a victim. Now, let’s review all the examples of the imperative you see around you.

The world seems to be too full of advice about what leaders are. Frankly, as a leadership coach, mentor, and all around expounder, I too am too full of advice about what great leaders are. For instance, check out my piece on my leadership maxim: “Leaders Relate.”

This time, though, I am going to declaim on what leaders are not, particularly when they have the title of boss.

Way back in the 1900s, when I was but a tyke, I used to marvel that a head of broccoli looked like a little tree. Then I noticed that each stalk of that head was like the whole head in miniature and that each floret at the end of a stalk was like the stalk itself. From there I imagined each bud that composed the floret was itself like the floret that was like the stalk that was like the bunch that was like a tree. I wondered then if each bud would have its own stalks, florets, and buds. About this time my revery would be broken by my parents.

“Jimmy! Stop picking at your food.”

I must confess that I had similarly incisive commentary to offer on cauliflower.