I’ve never had much use for New Year’s resolutions.
They sound good when you make them on December 31, but by January 2 you’ve sobered up, found your pants, identified the parlor where you got your scorpion tattoo and forgotten many of the promises you made. Thus, you move on and fall back into old habits.
But with 2020 just a few hours away, I figured I’d give resolutions another shot. I mean, the 21st century version of the “Roaring Twenties” is a special occasion, and I should do my part to make them special.
So here are my New Year’s resolutions for the next 365 days:
I’ll devote more time to Batman.
As you probably know, aside from Mary, my animals, Celtic FC and the Canadian Football League, few things are as important to me as the Dark Knight. He’s been the object of my obsession since the mid-1960s.
However, he got lost in the shuffle a bit in 2019.
With the release of “Avengers: Endgame,” “Captain Marvel” and “Spider-Man: Far From Home,” I was up Marvel’s butt for much of the year.
Throw in “The Mandalorian” – which features both the adorable Baby Yoda and equally adorable Apollo Creed – and I wasn’t nearly as attentive to the needs of the Caped Crusader as I should’ve been.
All that changes starting tomorrow.
While many of you will be watching bowl games, I intend to view Christopher Nolan’s entire “Dark Knight” trilogy while wearing a Batman tee shirt.
In fact, I’ll set aside at least one day each week to the World’s Greatest Detective, whether it be watching films, reading comics and/or graphic novels, or simply wearing a cape and cowl and growling, “I’m Batman!”
It’s the least I can do for the masked man who has given me so much.
I’ll be less antisocial
There was a time – not many years ago – when I would cheerfully answer the door when I heard a knock and engage the knocker in whatever topic they chose.
Now when I hear someone approaching my house, I gather up all the animals, grab my survival pack (this usually includes a can of baked beans, sleeve of PEZ candy and a hammer) and head to the panic room upstairs.
I lock the door and wait up to 24 hours to make sure the threat is over.
Even I can see that’s a bit of an overreaction.
Going forward, I’ll no longer flee when I get a visitor. Instead, I’ll open the door, scream, “Go away, damn you!” and throw pebbles at the person.
It might not seem like much, but it’s a start.
I will eat a green thing every day.
Eating healthy is something I take great pride in, and as someone who has always loved vegetables it’s never been difficult for me to do. And if you’re like me, you’ve probably been told how important it is to “eat something green.”
Maybe it’s broccoli, green beans or kale.
Or maybe – just maybe – it’s a frosted strawberry Pop-Tart.
Believe it or not, the frosting on these Pop-Tarts have green flecks.
I don’t know what they are and I don’t care. I just know that eating a frosted strawberry Pop-Tart every day is something I’m willing to go all-in on.
I will not curse.
And by “I will not curse” what I mean is that I will not, as the dictionary suggests, speak “a solemn utterance intended to invoke a supernatural power to inflict harm or punishment on someone or something.”
I simply don’t have the ability to do such things, although I wish I did because there’s a shitload of you bastards I’d love to smite.
(Cussing, of course, is something I’ll continue to do at an alarming rate).
I will not bash anyone in the head with an oar.
Several years ago I worked with a guy who I simply couldn’t stand. That’s probably more a reflection on me than him, but regardless, he had a punchable face and made me want to puke.
Any time he started to talk, I had the urge to grab a boat paddle and whack him in the side of the head with as much force as I could generate.
I know, that’s terrible, but that’s how I felt.
Fortunately, we’re not a nautical family and have no boats. And since we have no boats, we also have no oars.
So, even if I see this guy – and I hope I don’t – he is in no danger of receiving the business end of a boat paddle from me.
I do have a shovel, though.
I’ve got no qualms about hitting him with that if provoked.
I will not speak ill of the dead, as long as they were decent human beings while they were alive.
All my life I’ve heard that I shouldn’t say anything bad about the deceased, especially when their passing is still fresh.
This seems hypocritical because dying doesn’t suddenly make you a good person, it merely makes you a dead person.
So, I’ll show the same respect – or lack of respect – for the departed as I would have if they still walked among us.
Abraham Lincoln, for example, was a great man overall and you’ll never hear me say anything derogatory about ol’ Honest Abe.
But Andrew Jackson?
Andrew Jackson can kiss my ass.
I will not spank my monkey.
I have no monkey, and would never raise a hand to one under any circumstances.
That being said, if I did have a monkey his name would be Cornelius and I’d dress him like Roddy McDowall.
(If I had a female monkey her name would be Jo March and she’d wear Little Women-style clothing).
Happy New Year!