on to the nine

"New Year's Eve is amateur night and resolutions are for fools."

-Phil Jackson, 1/1/09

He's probably right on both counts, but to admit it is to give up hope, and I'm not ready to do that yet.

Hope that this is the year you finally found that perfect New Year's Eve Party, where you were the star of the show like you wrongly remember you used to be from time to time.

And hope that writing something down makes you more likely to follow through on it.

I am out in Southern California with the in-laws, so the New Year's Eve party was out of the question. We stayed in and sang karaoke and drank some champagne and kept the festivities under control, as you always should when three or more generations are present. It may sound ungrateful, but I think my heartfelt rendition of "Lodi" deserved an even better score than the 96 I received from the machine. To give the song the proper emotional resonance, I always pretend it is about Lodi, Wisconsin.

As for resolutions, first let's check in on last year's goals. It turns out I didn't really have any, other than a vague desire to live a less passive existence, to take life by the balls for once. As in "Take 2008 and make it my personal joyride. I am going to soak up every moment, I am going to be loose and goofy and full of spice."

Then my dad died on January 20th and the joyride was over before it started. In the end, 2008 was still an interesting year (as are all years except maybe 1997), with some historic triumphs and some cringeriffic disasters. But it was not the enthusiastic victory lap I had hoped for.

I'll take a mulligan on 2008 and push my goal of general fulfillment forward into 2009, a.k.a. the year I finally get my shit together and stop living in nervous anticipation of my next mistake.

In addition to this, I have a few small, attainable, and most importantly, objectively measurable goals for the year.

1) Continue to play basketball often enough so that I slow down my spiral of suckitude. I went back to Laguna for Day 2 and it was so so much better. I didn't feel a day over 50 out there.

I will also try not to get mad when people play in jeans or running shoes. I have no idea why this bothers me so much.

2) Come up with a slang term that catches on nationally. My first attempt: The Business District -- a euphemism for a person's genital region. You can go ahead and use it in a sentence, just to see how it feels. Not bad, right?

3) Get fit.

4) Don't even resolve to get fit in 2010, it's not going to happen.

5) Come to terms with your sexuality. I finally figured mine out in 2008, now it's time for me to accept yours.

6) Write a short story.

7) Think about what I eventually want to do for a living, if it ain't what I'm doing, for a minimum of 20 minutes total. Take at least one tiny step in this new direction.

8) Sing karaoke, with passion and skill, in a bar at least one time.

9) Take care of the kid for a weekend so Ma Bungle can get away and have a special little personal trip all for herself.

10) Patent my iPhone app: "Signal Loss" -- this is an application that, at the push of a button, creates static and simulated audio dropouts, allowing you to say "I think I'm losing you" to the person on the other end of the line. This will elminate the need for other bullshit conversation-ending excuses.

11) Read 25 books.

And do some other shit, too. I'll let you know.

get big

Welcome to 2008, my friends. It's going to be a hell of a year and I can't wait to be a part of it.

Time to talk resolutions. But first, the obligatory progress check on last year's goals:

I made one New Year's Resolution. That ain't saying I only want to improve/change one thing; just that most likely I will be pretty much the same schmuck this year as I was last year so I may as well set a realistic single goal for something that I might actually do. And that thing is giving up sugar soda. No more sugar soda anymore. That stuff is just no good. Delicious, but no good. It won't be easy but I can do it. And if I succeed, I might move on to some other resolutions. You'll be the first to know.

Well, I gave that shit up for a large part of the year, maybe 6 months, maybe 9, but somehow I slipped and now I am half diet soda, half regular. I need to get that straightened out.

As for resolutions for año cero ocho, to hell with that. Once again, I am going to be the same schmuck as I was in years 1972-2007, making the same bad decisions, cracking the same obvious jokes, feeling much of the same stress. Why kid myself? I am weak and scatterbrained and can rarely keep my train on the tracks for more than a few seconds at a time.

So in lieu of changing the things I do, I have decided to change the way in which I do them. No more half-assery, no more tentative Charlie Brown-style pussin' around, no more laying low and hoping nobody notices me. Every thing I do this year, I will do with passion, with flair, with commitment. If I suck, I will suck with a vengeance. I will scream and yell and apologize with sincerity. On the rare moments where I excel, I will gloat and dance and let the world know how awesome I am.

I will look people in the eye. I will speak in a full voice when I share my opinion.

The simplest acts in life, the ones we think of as mundane, are really opportunities to demonstrate grace and panache.

Example: the elevator door is closing. You want to activate the sensor that makes it open again so you can get on. Maybe someone is on the elevator pretending not to see you, maybe it's empty. Either way, the instinct is to halfheartedly stick a toe in, or your umbrella, or give it a lame wave of the arm -- something that could trigger the sensor but might not.

Fuck that. From now on I am kicking my entire leg through that door, kung fu style. I may even let out a yell. Or I may go Rockette style, humming a show tune as I let loose. Either way, I will go big and my life will be slightly more exciting because of it (providing my lower leg is not severed and I avoid groin pulls).

When I go on a coffee run, I will tell even more enthusiastic corny jokes to the cashier. They may think I am a fool, but their day will be better for it. (*Tried this today and it was met with a cold stare and complete silence -- who cares, it was worth it!)

When I play basketball, I will jack up a few crazy shots just for the hell of it -- they won't go in, but they will be fun. Nobody will mind.

I have always shied away from physical contact -- handshaking, hugs hello, unironic high-fiving, etc. No longer: I am going to embrace you and slap your hand whenever I get the chance. You are great, man. I like you! Why not show it?

If there is a chance for a good fake fight, I will take it.

So that is my simple resolution: to take 2008 and make it my personal joyride. I am going to soak up every moment, I am going to be loose and goofy and full of spice. Join me. Or at least tell me your resolutions.

Would a midsummer moustache be out of the question? I hope not.