new year's resolve

Miz Susan and I had, even by our pathetically low standards, a remarkably low intensity New Year's Eve celebration last night. Despite 2-hour naps for both of us earlier in the day, we were both sound asleep by 10:30. It's not the first new year we haven't been awake to welcome and I'm pretty sure that it won't be the last. I'm telling you, we were exhausted by the day's activities.

Susan had walked all the way to Coastal Seafood (and back) for fish for the fish tacos we'd talked about for last night. And I was totally done in by my second workout at the 4-lane lap pool at LA Fitness in the Midway. And, even more draining, the media section at Target looking for movies to follow the fish tacos. She had given me a list of acceptable choices most of which, it turns out, are probably still exclusively in the theaters. So I picked up the one I could find that she'd OK'd but which I'm sure will be too bleak for her and some Meryl-Streep-as-one-of-five-sisters thing. I figured the five sisters theme would at least resonate.

The one movie that I'd thought about before I got to Target was Invictus and, by God, there it was: a spot on the shelf with a sale-price sticker at $3.98. Score!! But it was, of course, out of stock and, though I was given a rain check for the sale price good through February 15th, it's up to me to check back for it. The 15-year old red-shirt "helping" me scornfully told me so. Target Corp. apparently can't be bothered to robo-call or e-mail me when the damn thing comes back into the store. I'm almost certain that there's technology available to do that but they probably don't really want me back for the mere $3.98 sale which they know is about all they'd get out of me. Oh well, I brought the two home and we'll watch those; I'm going to try to slip in The Namesake and The Visitor, both having come highly recommended as uplifting. Lord knows we can stand some uplifting.

With all of this in mind and the TV newscasts reminding me of more important, if not especially uplifting, current events, I'm going to reveal some of my New Year's resolutions. I've never been much for New Year's resolutions given what I know about my basically weak and hungry-for- instant-gratification nature. I'd only've been setting myself up for even more failure and who need's that? But the resolutions I've come up with seem to be ones that even I can stick to.

First of all, I've resolved to withdraw my support for Michele Bachmann's campaign for the GOP nomination for president. And I haven't accepted any juicy payments from the competition to jump ship. It's not that I don't still think she's a great American and the one truest conservative in the race. But everyone else seems to be deserting her and I don't want to miss out on what might be a good idea; there have been so many good ideas that I've missed out on due to pure sloth. I've thought long and hard about all of the other GOP hopefuls and, despite Rick Santorum rocking a sweater vest like nobody else since my 11th grade analytic geometry and trig teacher, I've decided that I'm going to throw my support to Barack Obama. Even if he's never taken me up on my invite to stop by the house (if both he and the White Sox are in town at the same time) to watch the game and drink a couple of Old Styles and maybe sneak a quick smoke out on the back deck with those of our residents also having a tough time kicking the habit.

He is a Republican, right? I assume that he's the front-runner for the GOP nod based on how everybody else has been talking smack about him at the debates. Which he's been skipping to avoid making himself look as stupid as the rest of them have. He seems like the best hope of the party to wrest the White House out of the grips of the evil Dems. I hope that you'll join me in my support of Barack in the coming Iowa caucuses even though I've told Susan that there's no way we're driving down across the state line to caucus for him. After all, it is a school night.

I have also resolved to stop cyber-stalking Justin Bieber and Jessica Alba. It's not that their people have contacted me yet and told me to knock it off but I don't want it to go that far. I'm not sure what my replacement obsessions are going to be but I'm sure that they'll be a little more worthy of me. I could fall back on my old practice of sending off e-mails to record labels begging them to reissue favorite but long unavailable CD's (likely long unavailable because they're no one else's favorites). That's never really borne fruit in the past but it seems like a much healthier pastime. Let me know if you've got any other crusades you'd like me to join. Just so long as they're not the Michele Bachmann campaign.

I'm also going to stop saying petty and snotty things in public forums about Tony Sutton and Amy Koch. I'm just going to let those two fade quietly into the sunset of yesterday's political landscape to enjoy some quality time with their families. Who will be, I'm sure, happy to have them home a little more often. This will leave me only Curt Zellers to badmouth but his new haircuts have been a huge improvement over the former coiffure which I made light of. I may have to hope that he and his fellow (and sister) Repubs actually make big-ass fools of themselves over substantive, public affairs issues to find fodder for mockery. And what are the chances of that? What with the proposed sanctity of marriage amendment vote overshadowing all other pressing matters, there's little hope that the GOPers are going to take any wrong steps. Who says that government needs to step back and just leave us alone to live our lives and pursue our dreams? What a load of hogwash that is.

This is a tough one but I've resolved to stop drinking that $125 a bottle single-malt Scotch whiskey which I've grown fond of. What the hell's wrong wrong with Hudson's Bay Scotch? That's a time-honored name in the distillery business and so what if Hudson's Bay is a wee bit more than a hop, skip and a jump from the heather covered moors and highlands of my forebears? Let's keep it local.

I'm also giving up cigarettes, marijuana, smack, speed, meth, crack cocaine and chewing tobacco. I swear that I'm not going to indulge in these products and I further swear that I'm not going to traffic in them, either. At least not for my own gratification nor financial gain. I'm going to leave those markets to the professionals who are probably far better at what they do than I could ever hope to be. Notice that I said nothing about cigars.

And finally, I'm going to stop saving up my money, a quarter or two at a time, for that Formula 1 race car I've been eying. The thought behind that was that it could help speed me to and from work up and down I-94's W and E not to mention East River Road. Yeah, there are lots of plainly posted speed limits all along those stretches but nobody else seems to pay much attention to them. So, why should I? The cops don't seem to be out all that often either. But if the only thing that the new car can now speed me to at the end of the day is another workout in the 4-lane lap pool at LA in the Midway, then who needs it? If I'm going to pay real money in the way of membership fees to feel as crummy as I do after my not so brisk workouts then why would I really want to be in a hurry to get to them? Now, if it was to come home to running my street drug empire, there might be some compelling reasons to move things along. But, as I wrote above, I've given that stuff up for the New Year.

It seems like even when I keep my New Year's resolutions, I might not be all that much better off than I was before. What the hell!? Happy New Year everyone. Even Michele Bachmann.