2006 was going to be the year. From the beginning of December I indulged myself with cake and beer. I stopped going to the gym and left work early. All of this because I knew come January 1st I had four New Year’s resolutions that were going to change the way I looked, felt and lived. So I guiltlessly ate what I wanted and spent my time laying around.
The only form of exercise I engaged in was rising from the couch and moving to the refrigerator, but by mid-December I had the kids providing this service for me. (They would steal a car for 50 cents and a cookie). I rarely had to move. It was a glorious month. Unfortunately, December ended.
In retrospect, perhaps I aimed too high. I read somewhere that a good resolution is one that is realistic. So I suppose Number 1 — Giving up beer — was doomed from day one, which in this case was New Years Day, which coincidentally is the day I broke Resolution Number 1, repeatedly.
But, being full of beer, I became more passionate about my other resolutions. Nothing was going to stop me. I was a man of fortitude. Then dessert was served and with it was Resolution Number 2 -– no more cake. I ate Resolution Number 2 with a scoop of ice cream and sprinkle of fortitude.
I still had two more resolutions to fall back on. I knew these promises I made to myself, these commitments to improve, these covenants of the spirit would survive the day because neither resolution involved ingesting solids or liquids and both my office and my gym were close for the holiday.
And so, Number 3 -– Go to the gym. Technically, I’ve kept this all year, since I was skillfully non-specific when I authored it and I have gone to the gym. I just haven’t gone inside. There is no parking close by and well, to walk all that way in the cold doesn’t seem right. Much like number 3, Number 4 -– Work more — failed to provide any detail. I have worked more on some things, like Sony Playstation 2 and I have searched vehemently for the perfect hamburger but that wasn’t really the spirit of the resolution.
For sure, I have kept resolutions in the past. I swore off liver in 1976 and in 1989 I promised myself and the entire East Coast that I would never go near a karaoke machine again. To date, I’ve been true to my word and the liver vow is safe as long as I am capable of lucid thought and can fight back. As for karaoke, maybe 2006 will be the year after all.