Resolutions about what you won't do. It's genius!
Finally, a New Years resolution scheme that actually works! You are so going to want to thank me for this week’s article. A few will want to follow up with cashews. Follow your heart.
I got the idea from, uh, I don’t know. It just came to me while I was eating a tuna sandwich and green olives. Not pertinent, but interesting. So, I’m eating and it hits me – Bonk! -- What have we done to the word “resolution”? It means nothing anymore. By our breaking of resolutions, we’ve altered the definition of “resolve” to mean “refuse.”
And there in lies the genius. I instantly finished my sandwich and then jotted down a list of stuff I resolve NOT to do in 2014. And I will succeed, because I am one of the best not-doers-of-stuff there is. So if I do something on the list, I will fail, but if I don’t, I succeed. It’s more than genius. It’s venti genius.
First of all, in 2014 I will not go see The Nutcracker. You can’t make me. I know the ballet is performed by the most accomplished athletes in the world, but their efforts are wasted on me. I will fight and die for their right to torture themselves by standing on the tips of their toes for several seconds, but I just don’t care to watch ‘em do it.
I will not buy a pair of cowboy boots in 2014. The best fitting footwear there is? I just don’t see it. If I had to stick my foot in a stirrup in order to ride fence all day, I’d get me a pair. But, I can’t see breaking my foot in order to put on a piece of footwear with a massively high arch, a two to three inch heel, with the tip that comes topoint so all your toes can get scrunched. And all just cruse Kroger?
Speaking of cowboys, I resolve in 2014 not to bust a bronco, punch a doggie or own a cat. I’ll not buy a cow either. Animals are okay. I just don’t care to be responsible for any of ‘em.
I will not ride a roller coaster in 2014. In fact, if God thinks anything of me at all, I’ll never ride another roller coaster in my life. I’ve ridden one. The best part of the ride was when the 14 year-old kid pried my hands off the bar and helped me out of the deathtrap.
I resolve, promise and assure you that I will not visit the Australian Outback in 2014. (The continent, not the restaurant.) Any country that has the top ten most poisonous snakes, a worm that spits and an ant that can kill you is not on my “must see” list. – “And, just to the left of the bus you will see a squirting Buey Bird! Aaaaaaugh! My eyes, my eyes!”
While I would enjoy traveling somewhere, I will not drive a motor home to Yellowstone this year. Nor do I plan to camp out in a pup tent or bathe in a stream. While I would enjoy eating biscuits around a fire, I’ll not be baking any in a skillet buried in coals. I refuse to tackle such a task.
I just can’t see me putting together a model car or battleship, or carving a bi-plane out of balsa. I’ve tried that kind of stuff and have learned my limits. Due to my low patience threshold, I shall steer clear of tedious, artful tasks.
I have it on good authority that Mark Hayter will not wire a house, install a bathtub, or roof a house this year. While there are not many acting gigs I would turn down, I assure you I will not appear in any commercials about erectile dysfunction. I’d be a believable subject, I just don’t care to participate.
I’ve got a few dozen more resolutions, but I’m sure you see the gist of it all. So many things NOT to do, and only a year NOT to do them. It’s genius I tell you. Forget the cashews. I’m holding out for one of those giant snicker bars that I saw at Kroger. Where are my boots?
Mark@rooftopwriter.com and www.rooftopwriter.com