Auld Lang Resign Yourself

Today is the first day of the new year. I am not exactly sure when it stops being a "new" year and transforms into being just a regular old "year." But, one thing is for sure, we know when a year becomes an old year.

It's the middle of the afternoon and if you listen closely, and the wind is just right, you can hear the crashing and burning of millions of resolutions going down like Hindenbergs as another cigarette is lit, another treadmill is still covered in dirty laundry and the bottom of another pint of Ben & Jerry's Chunky Monkey ice cream gets scraped clean. Motivations to improve our lives are a lot tougher than passing the calendar version of Monopoly's "GO", collecting $200 and losing 15 pounds. Why January 1st? Why not March 4th? Yom Kippur? Boxing Day (for those of the British/Canadian persuasion)? Personally, I think the best day to toss my line into the shallow lake of promises would be February 29th - that's right, Leap Year. Every four years, like the Olympics, the general election and when I clean out my fridge, make some changes. Hey, at least it's not as contrived as the holier-than-thou "I will be the best ultimate person I can be" wall that so many people steer themselves into as the days tick towards December 31st.

As I sit here with two cigarettes lit and a death-grip on a tube of raw cookie dough, I thought about some of the more popular resolutions and how they usually end up when the harsh blast of December winds eventually make their way back to our The Far Side cartoon-a-day calendars:

I'm going to stop smoking

This is one of the most popular resolutions ever trumpeted. It's usually followed by a little voice in your head that says, "but, geez, do I really HAVE to?" Sure, you can give all the reasons you want, such as improving your health, saving money, and not having the stench of tobacco on everything you could possibly own, but, in the end, when you're tipping back that third glass of merlot or get stressed out over work or a relationship, you're tearing through a fresh pack of smokes like a ghoul searching for a juicy brain. Of course, then you can rationalize it away by saying, "ok, that was one time. It'll never happen again." A few months later, you're machine-gunning cigarettes like bullet casings as you're charging an enemy hill. By the time the year is up, your cigarette consumption has actually increased by 50% over the previous year. And don't even mention cigars. For some people out there cigars (and to a lesser degree, pipes) aren't "smoking". That's like saying, "they aren't my drugs, mom, I was only holding them for someone". Smoking is smoking. Either do it or don't do it, but don't try to be the heroic 1% who can actually quit cold turkey; otherwise, buy stock in Phillip Morris.

I'm going to lose weight

This is the second head of the Cerebrus of Resolutions. You start out really well on this particular resolution because a food craving is different than a cigarette craving. Cigarette cravings are pangs of insanity for a smoke while a food craving is mostly something to fill your gullet. You have a choice between celery and a dirty paw full of animal lard, between water and a tureen of gravy, between grilled chicken and a jumbo cheesesteak sandwich, breaded, deep fried in hog fat, and sprinkled with confection sugar.

(God damn, does that sound good...)

The choices are yours as to what you eat. There are plenty of diets out there with awful-tasting pre-packaged entrees. Plenty of dietary supplements festoon the shelves of practically every drug store. And, if you love television as much as I think you do, you know there is a virtual conga line of infomercials on in the wee hours of the morning, all claiming to melt 50% of your body weight away overnight by using an extraction of the feathery extension of the stamen of the desert Choctaw cactus. But, of course, that little voice in your head tells you, "oh, that little piece of cheesecake isn't going to kill you. You need to reward yourself now and then!" A few months go by and you're shot-gunning cans of Redi-Whip, two at a time, before you even leave the supermarket. By the time the year is up, you refuse to eat anything not deep fried and dipped in chocolate. Then, right before New Year's Eve, you have a salad and some water and proclaim you are getting a head start on next year since all of your "fat clothes" from the previous year are now your "skinny clothes" for the next.

I'm going to get in shape

Finally, the dropping of the third shoe. Some may think this is related to the "I'm going to lose weight" resolution, and it does, but it just as easily can be attached to the "I'm going to quit smoking resolution," too. All of that expensive equipment you paid for in the drive to firm up those abs, lose that unsightly cellulite, and cut in half your number of chins is no more than a place to hang wet towels, dirty clothes, or convert into S&M devices for flaying pasty white, overweight businessmen. Now, this may be the hardest one to do, because this resolution generally requires a buddy to keep you going and for you to keep him or her going, as well. It's too easy to look outside, see a single cotton ball cloud in the sky and say "Looks like rain. Have to put off that jogging until tomorrow." We've all seen the ads with the guys with the impossibly-etched six-pack abs and the women with buns so tight they could knock the horn off a charging rhinoceros. Trust me, these people were either hatched, scientifically assembled, or the latest in life-like animation. These aren't real people like you and me. We'll never look like them. But, if your resolution to get in shape is genuine, follow the first two resolutions above and get a buddy to help you through, or you'll be out of the race before the groundhog rolls out of bed on the second day of February.

Look, people, I'm not here to preach. I am the worst example of how to make and hold on to a resolution. My resolution? Make no resolutions. Just do what you think is right when you are ready to make it right - or unless medically demanded by the physician whose mutual fund program you are personally financing. As for me? Perhaps some day I'll take my own advice.

Maybe next year.