While I trudged though the crossword the other day in a class I won’t mention, I looked around at the other students. Bold, I know — I barely escaped making eye contact with my teacher. I was pleasantly surprised to see that many of the other students had The Collegian.

“Awesome,” I thought, “maybe they’re reading one of my articles.”

No, they were all focused on the crossword, same as me. Why is that? Don’t think about it, I’ll do that for you. I know why.

I discovered the cause when I returned home after a long day of school where I again failed at the crossword. I was surfing the internet news, as I usually do after school. Scrolling down, down, down some more. Past Giuliani, Clinton and Obama. Past Myanmar and steroids and Bush.

Then I stopped myself. It might have been because the page ended but I don’t remember.

Why did I pass those articles? I’m interested in them. Well, most of them.

Our next president is important to me.

I’m a San Francisco Giants fan and I rooted for Barry Bonds, which means I know all about steroids.

Whoops, I mean flaxseed oil and arthritic balm.

Fortunately, the Internet has refresh. I hit F5, which refreshes the page for you PC users. I propped my hand on my desk so that I could rest my head on it. My brain was quite weary after failing to figure out what Tom Cruise’s movie with 13 letters across was. The answer was “Risky Business,” by the way. Then I saw it. The headline screamed out at me.

“Boy, 6, tries to drive to Applebee’s.”

I had to read it.

Awesome. I knew this driving kid article was going to make me laugh. It didn’t. The writer blew it. Whoever wrote the article must have not realized they were dealing with a comedic situation.

I felt like I was reading about a trial. And not one of those celebrity ones.

There was bland vocabulary and there were useless quotes. Believe me, they teach us against that in journalism class.

The only reason I was even moderately entertained by the story was because I could imagine myself trying to drive my mom’s Volvo as a kid.

She caught me collecting phonebooks.

They teach us a lot about why readers skip over articles in the journalism program. It’s not relevant, it’s not interesting, they teach us. They’re right but I’ll tell you this: humor is what draws people. Going beyond interesting draws me. Catchy headlines are good, but the lure of a humorous article is too tempting, even for the most proper of businessmen.

There are some articles that don’t need humor. Politics, world news and business usually don’t require humor. There’s nothing funny about what’s going on in Myanmar or U.S. defense budget issues. But that doesn’t mean that humor should be actively avoided when there’s something that could be comical.

When there’s a chance for some humor, journalists should take it. The story of the kid who tried to drive to Applebee’s could have been gold. The writer could have interviewed the boy. That would have been a great read. I want to know what was so good at Applebee’s that the kid tried to drive there.

If they couldn’t interview the kid, they could have interviewed the boy’s grandmother. It was her car after all. I also want to know why that grandmother didn’t notice the kid rummaging through her purse. Was “Days of Our Lives” on or something?

I would have read the whole story, not just the first half, if the kid told me that he just wanted some Honey BBQ Baby Backs.

There’s a reason that Jon Stewart and Stephen Colbert keep their viewers. I’d much rather turn that on than watch CNN break more headline news about another toy recall.

Kids might eat them? No way!

Newspapers are a dying medium. I know, television is killing them, so is the Internet. But there is a way for newspapers to fight back.

I know what to do to get you to read something other than the clue for 56-across.

Creating interest isn’t always enough. If I want comedy, I can pick up a magazine, or a book or watch Jim Gaffigan on Comedy Central.

I read all the articles, all the ones in this publication and the ones on Obama and steroids. They’re good stuff. They let me learn.

But if I smile and learn, then I’m going to read another one.

You might read one too.