New Year's Revolutions
Happy New Year. Or happy new year, however you choose to look at it.
As I watched the big ball drop on Tuesday night in Times Square, I jokingly asked my daughter what life would be like if we did that for the change of every month instead of year.
"Three...two....one....HAPPY APRIL!"
Seems silly, of course.
But so does, when you think about it, going through all the expense and effort to mark the start of a new year. Or New Year.
It's perhaps too cynical---even for me---to say that January 1 is "just another day," but it truly is. It is different, however, in one respect: It's the one day when no one has ditched their new year's (or New Year's) resolutions---yet.
Ahh, about those resolutions.
There's a funny commercial playing on TV right now where a small boy calls it the New Year's "revolutions."
I kind of like that.
You do have to revolt, in a way, if you're going to commit to doing something different from how you've been doing it, which is essentially what a resolution is.
The revolt is internal. A civil war going on inside your body and brain.
The little dudes inside your head have to declare that there is a revolution, and then they have to start symbolically dumping tea into the harbor, i.e. those bad ways you are trying to get rid of.
A new year's revolution.
I don't do resolutions---or revolutions---per se. I make mental notes to change and then hope for the best.
Not working out too good for me, but there you go.
I don't do anything involving weight. I'd like to drop a few pounds, like anyone else. But I don't do any numbers crunching or obsess with the scale in the basement. Notice I said basement.
I don't resolve to change my eating habits, which goes along with the above. My wife is Italian and Polish. I get what I get, and I scarf it down happily. If I lose weight because of diet, it's akin to finding a dollar bill in the laundry.
I don't make any commitments professionally. I don't set out to write X-number of blog posts or set any goals at work. That may sound lazy and uninspired and displays a shocking lack of motivation, but I figure, why set myself up for failure?
In short, my revolutions internally are weak and quickly squashed. I'm the Bay of Pigs of self-improvement.
Now, this doesn't mean that I don't want to be a success and that I don't care about my body or that I have indifferent feelings toward my fellow man.
It just means that when all is said and done, the status quo is OK. I'll continue to help out my wife around the house, put in my 40 hours at work and be as good of a dad as I can be. I'll say my prayers at night and make it a point to perform a random act of kindness now and again.
Wherever that leads me, so be it.
Happy N(n)ew Y(y)ear!
As I watched the big ball drop on Tuesday night in Times Square, I jokingly asked my daughter what life would be like if we did that for the change of every month instead of year.
"Three...two....one....HAPPY APRIL!"
Seems silly, of course.
But so does, when you think about it, going through all the expense and effort to mark the start of a new year. Or New Year.
It's perhaps too cynical---even for me---to say that January 1 is "just another day," but it truly is. It is different, however, in one respect: It's the one day when no one has ditched their new year's (or New Year's) resolutions---yet.
Ahh, about those resolutions.
There's a funny commercial playing on TV right now where a small boy calls it the New Year's "revolutions."
I kind of like that.
You do have to revolt, in a way, if you're going to commit to doing something different from how you've been doing it, which is essentially what a resolution is.
The revolt is internal. A civil war going on inside your body and brain.
The little dudes inside your head have to declare that there is a revolution, and then they have to start symbolically dumping tea into the harbor, i.e. those bad ways you are trying to get rid of.
A new year's revolution.
I don't do resolutions---or revolutions---per se. I make mental notes to change and then hope for the best.
Not working out too good for me, but there you go.
I don't do anything involving weight. I'd like to drop a few pounds, like anyone else. But I don't do any numbers crunching or obsess with the scale in the basement. Notice I said basement.
I don't resolve to change my eating habits, which goes along with the above. My wife is Italian and Polish. I get what I get, and I scarf it down happily. If I lose weight because of diet, it's akin to finding a dollar bill in the laundry.
I don't make any commitments professionally. I don't set out to write X-number of blog posts or set any goals at work. That may sound lazy and uninspired and displays a shocking lack of motivation, but I figure, why set myself up for failure?
In short, my revolutions internally are weak and quickly squashed. I'm the Bay of Pigs of self-improvement.
Now, this doesn't mean that I don't want to be a success and that I don't care about my body or that I have indifferent feelings toward my fellow man.
It just means that when all is said and done, the status quo is OK. I'll continue to help out my wife around the house, put in my 40 hours at work and be as good of a dad as I can be. I'll say my prayers at night and make it a point to perform a random act of kindness now and again.
Wherever that leads me, so be it.
Happy N(n)ew Y(y)ear!
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