I like to make lists. One of the lists I have is for used books to look for the next time I'm in Chattanooga visiting McKays store. I would let you know what's on that list, but it would probably just bore you. It's significance to this post is that I rarely find any of the books on my list. I could order them online, but it would take the fun out of it. Sure, I'm disappointed most of the time, but on those ocassions when I find a good used copy on my list I'm ecstatic. I've been known to leap up and down in the store yelling "allright!" like a kid finding money on the sidewalk.
The point is that since I like to make lists I usually go all out for New Year's Resolutions. I don't always write them down, but I remember them if I don't. And just like my book list, I usually end up a little letdown later because I'm like millions of Americans: I don't follow through on most of my resolutions. I accepted that long ago. Because part of the appeal of New Year's Resolutions and lists in general is that they posit an ideal world on paper or in your head. The aura of fantasy is an integral component whether it's something as mundane as a grocery list (you're hoping the store has the brand of coffee you need) or your list of goals you hope to achieve.
I run across old lists from time to time and they're fairly consistent. Read more books with an accompanying array of titles, lose twenty pounds...and that's from when I was in high school and almost 60 pounds lighter than I am now (keep in mind that nobody's running around calling me fat - you can pack alot of beers on a 6 foot 3 inch frame), grow out my hair (which I eventually did until it reached my shoulders....now I'm losing what hair I have), start a band (which I did several times), get a newer vehicle, save money, move to Jamaica, write a novel, and so on. A mixture of daydreams and aspirations collide and provide a picture of who I was at a certain period of time and even if I didn't accomplish everything I've set out to it's an endearing image to me.
Since I'm almost to the annual point of the year where, to borrow a phrase from bmarkey, Soulfish Stew will go dark for a few weeks so I can recharge the synapses and such I figured I'd share my resolutions for next year, however mundane they may seem.
So I'm 60 pounds heavier than high school I think I'll drop 40 pounds this year. I've failed at this pursuit many times before, but I bet you I can do it. We'll revisit this one at the end of 2006. I want to find an old typewriter that works and crank out some poorly written stories. The poorly written part will be easy if I can find a typewriter that fits my budget. I want to buy an old used BMW. I've always liked the way they looked and maybe I can get a deal on one. Those last two iitems might not constitute a true resolutions list, but since this is my list they stay. I resolve to be a better father and husband. I'm pretty great already, but there's always room for improvement. I resolve to be more humble.
I resolve to plant a small vegatable garden in the back yard and hope the mole doesn't destroy it. I want to plant some flowers in the front of the house. I want to get a couple of more trees. I also need to get a new lawn mower which will help fulfill my resolution to stop borrowing stuff from the neighbors. I resolve to do a review on my next door neighbor's metal band at some point since they're good at what they do. I will finally make some demo recordings that sound decent. I plan to go swimming some in 2006.
That's the list so far. There will be more added at some point between now and New Year's. Even though I'll fall short of some of these things I wil have an ideal vision to go toward. Ten years from now these goals will be outdated and perhaps quaint. But they'll still be an endearing reminder of my constant hopefullness and propensity to make lists.