As I Was Saying
Resolutions 2013
By Alan Williamson
A brand new year begins, a time of hope and growth and ditching the debris of the past. It’s a time of renewal and redemption and salvation. (A time to lose those extra 15 pounds I’ve been lugging around like a recycle bin full of beer bottles.)
Here’s how I’m planning to recycle my life and make 2013 my best year ever.
· Resolution # 1: I will become utterly absorbed in a new and greater reality while still maintaining my availability to participate in happy hours, barbecues, card games and other traditional, old-reality activities.
· Resolution # 2: I will take the initiative to reach out and call people to keep in touch. I will pick up the phone and call distant family members, past and present friends, and people I went to school with. If no one on my A-list is available, I will dial numbers at random until I connect with someone, somewhere and find out how their week is going and what their weather is like.
· Resolution # 3: I will take more pictures and capture more memories in 2013 then I ever have before. Since my previous record for taking pictures in one year is four, the pressure is on to snap off at least one shot per quarter and then squeeze in another one sometime during the holiday season. Note to myself: buy a good camera, perhaps a Polaroid so I can pull the picture out, shake it while I count to 60, and see the results sooner rather than later.
· Resolution # 4: I will write, produce and star in a theatrical tribute to Mahatma Gandhi entitled “Dinner with Gandhi: Nothing for Me, Thanks.” In contrast to the title, the show will have something for everyone: partial nudity, intense nonviolent disobedience, and a raise-the-roof, wake-the-dead soundtrack alive with ambient chanting and melodic humming.
· Resolution # 5: To make the work week seem shorter and less of a grind, I will lead a historic petition of the Federal government to officially rename Thursday “Friday Eve.” While I’m at it, I will also formally request that Tuesday be renamed to reflect what it actually feels like, which is “Monday, Part 2.”
· Resolution # 6: I will strive to meet people that I have disagreements with half way. At my discretion, as a show of good faith, I will meet them as much as 51% of the way and buy them a complimentary cinnamon bun or multigrain muffin, subject to availability. If that doesn’t work, screw ‘em – I don’t see anyone buying me a complimentary multigrain muffin.
· Resolution # 7: I will rekindle my personal pursuit of cultural enrichment by reading more books and watching less TV. First book on my list: “How to Read More Books and Watch Less TV.” Second book: “Paradise Unplugged: The Hidden Perils of Reading Too Many Books and Watching Too Little TV.” Third Book: “No Reading Required: A Guilt-free Guide to Watching the Shows You Love and Loving the Shows You Watch.”
· Resolution # 8: I will reunite with the original members of my 1980s punk band “Chronic Caucasians” and launch a nationwide tour of second-rate amphitheaters, dilapidated band shells and flea market food courts. I plan on calling it the “No Refunds Tour” to convey our commitment to delivering a crowd-pleasing performance and to head off any frivolous lawsuits that would require my appearance in small claims court.
· Resolution # 9: I will finally fulfill my potential as a highly-paid public speaker by training myself to talk eloquently in front of large crowds at business functions without prior knowledge of the functions’ purpose or the makeup of the audience. With a preparation approach based on working smarter, not harder, I will win over audiences by addressing them frequently as “a fine group of buckaroos” and by limiting my speeches to exactly 11 minutes. I will also give away small, hotel-size samples of soap and shampoo.
· Resolution # 10: All kidding aside, I will strive each day to live fully and spontaneously in the moment with gratitude, passion and a spirit of adventure.
Happy New Year everyone. May you live fully, love deeply, share generously and laugh often. (Just remember to pace yourself and take time now and then to be selfish and small-minded.)
Alan Williamson is an award-winning writer with 27 years in the field of true fiction (advertising). A practical man who knows that writing for a living is risky going, he has taken steps to pursue a second, more stable career as a leggy super model. Alan can be reached at [email protected]. © 2011 Alan Williamson.