A Sob-Story About Broken Resolutions
by and large, is great for human bodies. Mine included. Sit-ups, push-ups, (I remember the ice cream push-ups) back-bends, and treadmill work. Exercise is good for some people, while for people like me, with a 'free spirit,' who cannot be tied-down to one, set regiment, is not that good. I started out good. Five push-ups. Five sit-ups. And a few minutes on the treadmill, and a few Klondyke Bars and exercising was, as I sadly found out, not for me.
My passionate-love affair with food made it tough to keep a New Year's resolution to lose a few pounds . . .
for me was the toughest thing to do. It meant either cutting back, or cutting out, same difference, on my favorite foods which are all foods except grilled gopher rats they feed tourist in the Amazon. I'm a firm disciple of hot biscuits, gravy, sausage, gravy, bacon, pancakes, waffles (I NEED TO CATCH MY BREATH) thanks. Meat loaf, chili, tacos, burritos, pizza, fried chicken, cakes, pies, Bear Claws, Ding Dongs and Krispy Kreme chocolate-filled dough nuts. Do you seriously think that a man who has had a running love-affair with food for years, would suddenly 'break it off,' and eat rice cakes? Seriously. I kept this resolution for a record-time of three hours.
was tough. Not as tough as giving up food. But all-in-all, tough. I think that I have 'quit' smoking about eight times since 1988 through 2001. But the last time I was serious about quitting smoking was in 2001. I went three days. No cigarettes. No cigars. I felt great. Nervous. On-edge, but great. Then a buddy came by for a visit, fired up a Marlboro, and there went my resolution. But today, in 2012, I am a totally-NON-SMOKER. NON-DIPPER. NON-CHEWER. I had to get serious. And 'want' to quit. With the grace of God, tough praying, and patience, I am FREE of nicotine.
for me, was impossible. I know. I am a weak man. I used the word 'fasting,' not 'quitting,' for a reason. I knew going-in that I couldn't completely-quit watching television, so I used the Biblical approach, fasting, to keep my resolution, one year, I forget which one, to 'fast' television for a few hours each day. Long story short, if you are a "CNN Junkie," forget about it. The battle is lost before the first news bulletin is broadcast. To be honest. I tried. I went for an hour, maybe an hour and a half without my television even being turned on. I felt alone. Lonesome. Vulnerable. Why live in this suffering, I thought. It's not as bad as over-eating, I also thought. So on came the television. I was happy. But a little sad at not 'fasting' enough television to make me a truly-focused man. I can live with that.
Other New Year's resolutions I've broken
FUSSING AND FIGHTING
is one thing I hate. Even with my wife. I hate it. But one year I had reached my limit of fussing and fighting. I made a bold New Year's resolution to absolutely quit all of my part of the fussing and fighting, that after all, were mostly my fault anyway. So why not do the right thing. Devote time to listening. Not fussing. Or knit-picking. I kept this resolution for one week. One night I was late getting home from work. Wife: "Why do you PURPOSELY work late?" That one word, 'purposely' did it. I snapped. But didn't fuss. Or fight. I said, in shaking-voice, "to put food on our table," and walked off. I shouldn't have said anything. Just smiled. But I didn't.
for me, was a serious response from someone who said, "Ken, you laugh way too much. Life is not all a party," and they were right. In 1997, I recall putting a damper on my laughing, joking, and amateur, inner-office stand-up comedy. This was the hardest two hours of my life. I broke into pieces. I wasn't being the 'real me.' So I broke this stupid resolution. And would do it again.
is great. If you are a robot designed by Stephen Hawking, the world's smartest man. And I agree. Anger, or too much anger is rough. I made a personal New Year's resolution in 1998 to cut-back or try to control my anger. I did pretty well, to be honest. Until a stray dog in our neighborhood, made it his business to ransack my carport. I caught him in the act. 'Red pawed.' I snapped like an oak twig. I chased this varmint from my yard. And neighborhood. And spent the rest of that day putting order back to my carport. Anger is part of being flesh and blood. Some things we all will just have to live with or cope with, or both.
So there you have it. My bared soul that says, "I failed. Miserably," in keeping some New Year's resolutions. I'm sure that I'm not alone in this, but I am not a person to point the finger of blame to anyone--claming it was their fault that I failed. I failed. Myself. And the causes I was making resolutions to overcome. Or cut-back on.
What can I say, but, "Sorry, friends. I am not Clark Kent."
AND NO HARM WAS DONE TO THE STRAY DOG MENTIONED IN THIS STORY. THE DOG WHO TURNED MY CARPORT INTO A RURAL EXPRESSIVE ART MUSEUM LIKE THOSE YOU SEE IN NEW YORK CITY.