Historical humorous column by Tom Hoerr. Comic suggestions are preserved as period satire, not advice.
This issue marks the end of the old year, so I assume that the new year is coming next. Given that once again it’s the night before deadline and given that once again my search for a topic is proving lackluster, at best, it seems prudent and timely to consider the issue of New Year’s Eve resolutions. (I was going to write about the invisible man, but the notion vanished. Then I considered discussing prison breaks, but the idea escaped me. I had also planned to write about weather and floods, but I was too late as the idea had fled…) New Year’s Resolutions (NYRs)—like records, bread and disks—are made for breaking. Oh sure, it serves our conscience and it’s kind of catharsis, but the process really isn’t meant to work. Heck, if you were gonna do those things, why wait until New Year’s? Did you ever hear of a November 4 resolution or an April 16 resolution?
Most people take the easy way out when making their NYRs; they try to amend an obvious flaw or change something for their betterment. Aside from being basically senseless (no one keeps NYRs anyway), this approach is pretty boring.
We all know that fat old Aunt Tilly is going to resolve to lose weight and that Cousin Ned, known as Crazy Ned to his friends, will resolve to stop stuffing jelly beans up his nose when he gets excited. I’m proposing something a little more adventurous—a NYR Party!
Everyone comes sporting their favorite vice (that could be interesting in itself!) and, at the appointed hour, each guest writes his/her resolution down on a piece of paper and places it in a hat.
The hat is then passed around and each person draws out a different resolution which he/ she is to keep for the New Year.
This has loads of potential and is still pretty safe.
Since no resolutions are ever followed anyway, it doesn’t matter much that the NYR that Uncle Elmer draws requires him to lose weight so he can “fit in to my high school prom dress”! Actually, Elmer may look quite good in the prom dress. (You should note that there is one problem with this kind of process.
I was at a party where we did draw resolutions from hats, and a friend of mine spent the whole year trying to adhere to the resolution he drew from the hat: “Inspected by No. 53.”) If the NYR party doesn’t appeal to you, here’s another suggestion for making the process more exciting and guaranteeing—or at least improving the possibility—that you’ll follow the resolution. Simply have your NYR tattooed on your forehead. Oh sure, it may look a bit tacky, but it’s a great conversation starter: “Hi, young lady.
My name’s Jim. Do you come here often?
The inscription on your forehead tells me that you’re trying to give up wild weekends and hedonistic pleasures. Can I buy you a drink?” Most folks I know aren’t even concerned about keeping their resolutions (if they thought there was a possibility, they’d be a whole lot more careful about what they resolved to do!). If, however, keeping your NYR is your thing, try making the resolution in public (kind of like an AA meeting).
If you can’t find a crowd (someone whose resolution is to stop eating raw onions would have real difficulty in finding a crowd) or if your resolution is just too embarrassing, pick up the phone and give the resolution to the operator. Tellers at the Central West End Savings & Loan and salespeople at the New City School Tree Lot are also good for listening to resolutions.
If those options don’t work, try giving your resolution to Lisa so it can be published in “Vicissitudes.” Finally, knowing how important resolutions are to many of you and continuing in our efforts to make this tabloid useful, the following is the Paper’s personalized NYR list for you. It’s easy to do, simply pick a word from each of the columns (a,b,c) and insert them in to the sentence and—PRESTO!—you have your very own resolution. Picking the word from each column may be the most fun (try choosing words by throwing darts, using the digits in your birthday, or simply determining which of these pledges you most like to break). Oh yes, you have to pick a different numbered word for each column, you can’t just go straight across. Me? That’s easy. I resolve not to write any more dumb “In Your Ear” columns for the Paper (wait until you read my next column, though, it’s about how you can use Mexican food to solve the City’s mass transit problem). ### Personalized Resolution Chart
I, [your name], resolve to [column a] my [column b] for [column c]!
Column a
1. eliminate 2. lose 3. ignore 4. slow down 5. stop 6. stop right away 7. cut by ¼ 8. start 9. re-examine 10. really enjoy
Column b
- snacking
- eating
- drinking
- wiping my nose
- spitting in the house
- belching out loud
- leching
- having fun
- smoking cheap cigars
- sunbathing nude at work
Column c
- Tuesdays forever
- between 1 and 2 hours
- 6 years
- 1 day
- 10 minutes
- the rest of the month
- always
- always except weekends
- always except weekdays
- as long as I want
Original photograph caption
Personalized Resolution Chart, accompanying In Your Ear by Tom Hoerr. The Paper, December 1981, page 8.
Originally published in The Paper, December 1981.
Read this article in the original newspaper issue.
Original source: SD_Times1981_12.pdf, printed page(s) 8; PDF page(s) 8.
