My New Year's Unresolutions

So here we are in the future. It's 2012 which, according to fifty years' worth of science fiction movies, means we should all be piloting flying saucers, zipping around in jet packs, and spending our summers relaxing on the beaches of Mars. Do you realize that we're only three short years away from 2015, which was the "future" in Back to the Future, Part II?

Scary, isn't it?

As we turn the calendar page yet again, most folks cheerfully delude themselves into thinking this year's going to be different and make all sorts of resolutions designed to make them happier, or to make them better people. This year, I'm going to stick to a diet. This year, I'm going to get regular checkups and take care of myself. This year, I'm going to quit smoking. Normally these resolutions last until somewhere around Martin Luther King Day, and then it's back to business as usual.

So this year, I'm going to do something different. Realizing that I'm probably not going to take any drastic steps to improve myself, instead I'm going to make a list of New Year's Unresolutions -- things that I will strive to NOT do in 2012.

We'll start with an easy one. I will not, under any circumstances, hit Betty White in the face with a water balloon. My chances of even running into Ms. White are very slim, since I don't think we frequent the same establishments. I spend very little time in Hollywood, she (apparently) doesn't hang out at Buffalo Wild Wings. And on the off-chance I do bump into her, I most likely won't be carrying a water balloon. I'm pretty confident I'll be able to stick to this unresolution.

In the coming year I will also not shove habanera peppers up my nose and whistle the second movement of Mozart's Symphony #29. Easy enough, because I do not know Mozart's 29th symphony, and I cannot whistle.

During 2012, I will not cheer for the Boston Red Sox. By way of comparison, this is even less likely than my shoving peppers up my nose and whistling Mozart while chucking water balloons at Betty White. Not gonna happen.

I will not sit on Oprah Winfrey's shoulders as she runs the New York City Marathon. I placed a call to her agent, who explained to me that Ms. Winfrey will not be participating in this year's event. Also, I'm working that week.

I will not walk up to Will Ferrell and scream in his face, "YOU ARE AN UNTALENTED, VULGAR BUFFOON AND YOUR MOVIES SUCK!" I will instead send it to him in an e-mail.

Furthermore, I won't mow the lawn of the White House while wearing a rainbow wig and a Speedo. I think our nation's leaders will thank me for this.

I won't write blog posts while under the influence of pretty strong pain medication I received from my doctor. After this one, I mean.

And I will try not to be too disappointed that I do not yet own a flying car. After all, according to Doc Brown, that's not due to happen for a few years yet.


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