By Tim Sanders

The New Year is almost upon us. It is a silly season, where in one single night otherwise rational people indulge in an entire year’s worth of bad habits, so that they can give them up the following day in the form of New Year’s resolutions.
Not that making resolutions is necessarily a bad idea. In "Following the Equator," Mark Twain told the story of a lady whose health was failing. He told her he could have her up and around in a week, and this cheered her considerably. Twain advised her to do what he’d done during a serious illness. He said she should simply "stop swearing and drinking, and smoking and eating for four days, and then she would be all right again." Sadly, she told him she couldn’t give up swearing and smoking and drinking because she’d never done those things. Twain told her that he could offer no further help. She’d neglected her bad habits, and was a sinking vessel with no freight to throw overboard. He said, "Why, even one or two little bad habits could have saved her, but she was just a moral pauper."
So what’s the point, you ask? Well, I don’t know. I guess I just like that story.

Oh yeah, now I remember. I’m not suggesting that you cultivate bad habits so that you’ll be able to ward off disease. Nor am I advising you to accumulate bad habits in order to have things to resolve not to do anymore when the New Year arrives. I am confident that if you look carefully, you’ll find more than enough bad habits to accommodate the Titanic, the Lusitania, and three or four sinking Norwegian Cruise Liners. And if you contend that you have no bad habits at all, you might want to work on that one glaring habit you just displayed, the habit of lying like a bedouin carpet salesman.

So, weighed down with bad habits as we all are, I would suggest that you limit your resolutions. Keep them simple and down to earth. Resolve to do or not to do the kinds of things which might well be within your capability to do or not to do, even if you don’t plan to do or not do them. Quite often you will hear friends proudly proclaim: "I’m resolving to work to make the world a better place this year, to help fight global warming, and to maintain a cheerful disposition regardless of circumstances." Those resolutions are meaningless. They are the kinds of words that would fall from the lips of a beauty pageant contestant, or possibly a presidential candidate, which in the case of John Edwards would be redundant.

Here are some examples of meaningless New Year’s resolutions, and some workable alternatives to them:
 

WRONG: I resolve to work for a safe, nuclear-free world in the upcoming year.

RIGHT: I resolve to search Momma’s purse for weapons the next time we visit Aunt Doreen’s family.

WRONG: I will avoid taking prescription medication in 2008.

RIGHT: I will certainly avoid taking Lunesta and Dulcolax at the same time.

WRONG: I resolve to fight global warming by reducing my carbon emissions.

RIGHT: I resolve to try my very best not to emit methane in crowded elevators.

WRONG: I will personally do my part by burning ethanol in my hybrid, converting to solar heat, and installing wind turbines to power my electrical appliances.

RIGHT: I will personally do my part by putting snow tires on my old Buick, scraping the ice off my windshield, digging my way out of the driveway, hunting down Al Gore and whacking him ever so gently in the head with my convenient Midwestern snow shovel.

WRONG: I will steel my resolve and avoid fatty foods.

RIGHT: I will steel my resolve and avoid news stories about the dangers of fatty foods.
 

WRONG: I will stop eating meat products, consume only organic vegetables, use no sodium, drink only spring fresh, bottled water, and avoid caffeine.

RIGHT: AVOID CAFFEINE? HAHAHAHA!

WRONG: I will work out regularly and train intensively until I’m fit to run in the Boston Marathon next year.

RIGHT: I will work out regularly and train intensively until my thumb is limber, and I’m fit to put that remote aside, climb out of my recliner, waddle down to the corner Krispy Kreme, and reward myself with a wheelbarrow full of jelly doughnuts.

WRONG: This year, if I put my mind to it, I know I can lose 80 lbs.

RIGHT: This year, if I put my mind to it, I know I can lose Junior at WalMart.

WRONG: I will learn Spanish this year.

RIGHT: I will learn to pronounce "quesadilla" without the "L"s when dining at the local Mexican restaurant.

WRONG: I will live a more sanctified, spiritual life in 2008.

RIGHT: If I’m sober, I will return to my little, brown boyhood church on Easter Sunday. I think I still remember where it is; in the vale, just behind that enormous brown gymnasium.

WRONG: I will never again vote for a dishonest politician.

RIGHT: I will never again vote.

WRONG: I will read two good books.

RIGHT: I will read the covers of two good books, which generally give you a pretty good idea of what’s inside, anyway. (Except for "Little Women," which is not about circus midgets at all, and "Moby Dick," which has absolutely nothing to do with physical abnormalities.)
 

WRONG: I promise to never light another cigarette.

RIGHT: I promise to never light another cigarette while using paint thinner to remove semi-gloss enamel from my pants. Not while I’m wearing the pants, at any rate.

WRONG: I resolve to get organized.

RIGHT: I resolve to ... uh, wait, it was right here on my desk a minute ago.
 

I suppose I could go on, but you get the idea. With more practical, down-to-earth resolutions, you will find yourself feeling better about things. Of course you won’t be able to keep your resolutions, but at least your friends won’t laugh at you for being pompous and unrealistic. They’ll only laugh at you for the usual reasons.