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Another year has come and gone and once again, 16, 24, 5, 22, 14 and the Power Ball number 19 failed to materialize, meaning, I’m obliged to crank out 52 more of these columns in the new year.
2019? How did that happen? 2019 sounds more like a hotel room than a year. Still, maybe this coming year will be the year!
Look, I know Jan. 1 is an arbitrary date. In some cultures the new year arrives in our February, in others it’s our September. But by common agreement much of the world has decided to roll the year over on the first day of our first month and thus we get a holiday, often maligned as “amateur night” by committed drinkers, or simply “stupid” by those of us snubbed again by the in-crowd who throw those epic parties people are always posting about after the fact.
Still, I’ve grown to appreciate New Year’s Eve and the promise of a better tomorrow.
For all the phony cheer, who couldn’t use a fresh start? There’s so little time today for introspection, even something as flimsy and unlikely to stick as a resolution made after five flutes of Korbel affords us a fleeting glimpse of a better us.
The New and Improved Doug McIntyre. It’s about time.
I don’t know if this is the year I lose weight, eat right, finish that novel, clean the garage or actually change the oil every 3,500 miles. But I might. And that’s the promise of 2019. This is the year when all those things great and small could happen.
Of course, change doesn’t just happen. Aye, there’s the rub. Still, with a fresh 365 days to play with, anything is possible.
Every year around this time some newspaper know-it-all inevitably advises us to set the bar low, to be realistic in our expectations for 2019.
Why?
Why not shoot for the moon? Why not allow ourselves to really dream big? Why not lose 50 pounds if we have 50 pounds to lose? Why not write that novel or go sky diving or take banjo lessons?
Why not start a charity or pray every day and mean it? Why not see the world? If not 2019, when?
That we might fail is a given. So what? Nobody’s keeping score except us. And Mark Zuckerberg.
Over the decades I have mostly resolved to address tangible issues related to health, wealth and wellbeing.
Now, as I approach perfection, I find that my challenges are less specific and somehow greater: to be kinder, more compassionate, more tolerant and understanding.
How does anyone become more compassionate and understanding in the age of Twitter?
It would be so much easier to just lose another five pounds.
Still, these are the changes most likely to make the world a better place. In the grand scheme of things, it really doesn’t matter what size pants I squeeze into.
Big resolutions or small, we can plunge into the future in pursuit of a better version of us. I like giving the Etch A Sketch of life a good shaking and starting over with a clean screen.
Of course, my track record with new year’s resolutions is no better than anyone else’s. Thumbing through old diaries, I found the following entries: Dec. 31, 1995, quit smoking/lose 10 pounds. Dec. 31, 1996, quit smoking/lose 10 pounds. Dec. 31, 1997, quit smoking/lose 10 pounds. Dec. 31, 1998, quit smoking/lose 10 pounds, Dec. 31, 1999, lose 20 pounds.
I actually quit smoking in 1999!
And maybe 2019 will be the year I lose the 20 pounds. Anything is possible, maybe even 16, 24, 5, 22, 14 and the Power Ball number 19.
I considered a little reverse psychology this year, resolving to do things I really don’t want to do, for instance: eat more gluten, post more belligerent political memes, take up two parking spaces at the mall, upgrade my PornHub account to “premium,” leave the trash cans at the curb all week, get a dog but don’t clean up after it — all those irritating and quality-of-life destroying habits we shouldn’t do but for some reason can’t stop doing.
Unless we make them a new year’s resolution. Then they’re guaranteed to be forgotten by Valentine’s Day.
So, whether you say hello to 2019 in your best threads while painting the town or climb into bed at 8:30 with a bowl of Haagen Dazs and Season 2 of “The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel,” either way the rite of passage will be observed.
2018 will be consigned to the history books and we will move forward, always forward.
Doug McIntyre’s column appears Sundays. He can be reached at: Doug@DougMcIntyre.com.
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