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Sunday, January 3, 2010

Solving Resolve

I love new beginnings.  And I marked 2010's beginning by looking directly up, precisely above my head, at a blue moon near Mobile Bay.  It was dryly cold that night, and Long December whined in the background.  To her credit, Majesty let us fools well alone and was already in bed.  I love new beginnings because I love rare things.  Like original longleaf pine floors in a 120 year old house, they're not an everyday occurrence.

I make New Year's resolutions.  Everyone does, I suppose, but I like to think I'm pretty on top of what I decide to do in my life.  Every schmo out there wants to lose 20 pounds, "be a better person" and to watch less of that darn teevee.  That's fine.  But we both know, come February 8th, (alright, January 8th) they'll be arguing loudly with the wife, while glued to Glee, elbow deep in ranch dressing and yellowed romaine.  It's not flattering, but it's the truth.  It's probably the gospel truth for 90% of the people reading this.  All 4 of you.

So when I make a resolution, I try to do it with some gravity of thought.  No, really.  Which nixes things like "#7 - Learn Mandarin Chinese this year."  Oh yeah, I limit my list to just 10 items.  Because, let's face it, most of us should resolve to fix/do/learn/be/achieve about 786 separate items, but that's daunting any way you imagine it.  And the ship's chalkboard is only so big.  One of the definitions of resolve is "to reach a firm decision about."  I think that's the real problem.  Most folks never have to make a firm decision about anything at all, unless they're forced into it by others, or by chance.  I could lecture about self discipline here, but I'll say only that if you have self control, you have a very valuable thing, indeed.  Believe it.

I reconnected with an old friend about a month back*.  I'll never forget the time he told me that before I knew it, I'd have 50 extra pounds on me, so all this silly working out stuff was pure vanity.  This was the gist, if not the precise wording.  No, no, I thought at the time.  We decide what is acceptable to include in our lives.  And no one wakes up 50 pounds heavier, or an alcoholic, or estranged from their family without choosing it, even if only once, even if only accidentally, tragically.  But we ourselves have decided to be... or have let others decide for us... what we now are.  Alright, enough preaching.

I share my resolutions, if at all, with exactly one person on the planet.  Her Majesty.  But I'm making an exception this year.  I resolve to give you, dear reader, whoever you are, whether disoriented perfect stranger just passing by this URL, SAHM somehow loosely affiliated with our little clan, or long lost relative...

A better blog.

Yeah, that was it.  Bit of a big buildup, sorry.

But seriously, I've actually given a solid 2 minutes of hard thought to this while bobbling atop my aching knees, running down East Road a few days back.  I've been whipping you with a few too many blurry pics of the JackAttack, and lame-o stories.  I don't apologize for the esoteric references and wacko analogies.  I mean, read our mission statement.  It is what it is, dude.  The posts might not be as long, but I'm going for thoughtful, which might be a stretch, I'll agree.

I feel like I'm forgetting something.  Oh yes, my illustrious son is fine and well.  Many stories to tell, but I have to get up for the new J-O-B tomorrow.

It just struck me:  I think I broke that resolution while declaring it.

Bring on the ranch dressing!

*This single event prevented my Facebook Suicide.

2 comments:

Jennifer Reinsch said...

Good luck with your resolution. My resolution is to be as ineffective as possible this year. Seriously, I am going to simply strive for averageness. I'm hoping I can accomplish this.

El Comodoro said...

The Bell Curve would suggest you're well on your way to your goal. I congratulate you in advance!