Economizing when possible is one of them, as the headline suggests. I got it from Henry David Thoreau.
I’m not going to pose again in just the birthday garb for Playgramps or Penthome or others of their ilk, or do any more of the geezer-nads centerfolds for the likes of Gerontology Today. They’re only interested in the obtusing of anatomical angles once acute, and I just don’t have time left for such foolishness.
Hyperbole being the great corrupter of modern discourse, I’ll work harder than anybody in the history of the world to eliminate all traces of it from these columns.
There won’t be jot or tittle of a cliché either.
I’m going to take a Sharpie and write “wept” in little bitty letters, punctuated with a tiny period, at the bottom of one or two of the giant JESUS billboards.
I’m afraid the dreadlocks, the do-rag, and the grillz will have to wait another year. Not a pretty picture in the mind’s eye.
Also, it’s going to take at least another year to adjust to the idea of a gas tank fillerup of unleaded Mazola.
I’m going to spend less time in ’07 belaboring the obvious. Who do we do that for, anyway?
I won’t ask and I won’t tell — unless curiosity or a shameful tendency to tacky boastfulness gets the best of me.
I’m not going to bet on horses based solely on whether or not their manes are braided. I’ve done that for years. No more.
Similarly, I’m not necessarily going to bet on the greyhound that has the wagging-est tail in the post parade.
Drinking bad whiskey because it’s cheaper is not the answer, no matter what the question is.
I don’t want to hear that that’s what happens when you lie down with dogs, so if I wake up with fleas, I’m just not going to tell anybody.
I’ve been fairly successful in a previous pledge to forget practically everything that I was once very confident that I knew about practically everything that mattered, but there’s more I need to forget and I’ll work on that this year.
(One thing in that regard, I’m really tired of opinions. Mine as much so as yours and those of nuts and cranks and professionals. Be nice if we could swap them as tokens of friendship, the way oldtimers used to do pocketknives. You espouse mine for a spell; I’ll advocate yours. If there’s a place I can take my tiresome collection of them and trade them in on some fresh ones, I’m doing it.)
Every year I resolve to learn a new language and this year it’s hieroglyphics. Maybe I’ll do a little better with that one. It’s only pictures so how hard could it be?
I’m going to ponder and reponder the 19th chapter of the Book of Matthew to see if there’s the remotest chance that any of us can honestly or accurately call ourselves Christians, but I don’t think there is.
I have 100 percent eliminated the possibility of being knocked backwards by the recoil and incurring serious injury or worse falling out of a tree stand in the deer woods, so I can cross that one off the list.
Not a single cigarette this year, for the 23rd year in a row.
Harold Lancaster, my brother who died last year, was a career Navy man and I asked him one time how come he never got a tattoo. He said, “I just never got that drunk,” and I’m not going to get that drunk either in 2007, so another year without a tattoo.
If the pope dies and they’re interviewing, I’ll ask them to remove my name from consideration. It just wouldn’t be a good fit for them or me either one.
Unless I’m in that zone where I can almost see through the backs of the cards, or unless it’s a real nice pot, I won’t be trying to fill any inside straights.
I hope to develop my own stem-cell line.
If God calls me in for a private chat, I’ll ask him to tell me some stuff that won’t make me look as much like an idiot as the stuff he tells Pat Robertson.
I’m going to breathe easier since the Food and Drug Administration approved a weight-loss drug for obese dogs.
I’m not going to cheat at golf. There’s just no long-term benefit to be gained from it. I suspect also that the One Great Scorer keeps an inerrant tally and that the penalty at the end of the Round will be sterner than two strokes.
I’m going to try to keep my mind out of those shallows where Huckaslugs leave their slime trails.
I don’t have much taste or symbolic self-mockery so I won’t be getting one of those Hummer stretch limousines.
I’ll try to buy cheap and sell dear and not get them mixed up as in most of the other annums going back roughly a geological epoch.
You young people should keep in mind that 2007 will be one of those years that you’ll look back on later and define your life by. Truly you will. So extract all the sap from it that you possibly can, or gird for regret.