I’m making changes this year. Little changes. The big changes never last. It’s little ones that stick. So I’m going to start by making my bed every morning.
When I was a kid, my mother believed, firmly, that making the bed set the tone for each day. So each morning I let her make my bed.
But now that I’m older, I’ve decided to make our bed every morning. Namely, because my mother believed that a man who makes his bed won’t ever be too disappointed in himself inasmuch as he accomplished at least one task today.
I’m also vowing to practice moderation. It will be my policy to drink only one beer at a time.
Another change I’m making: I’m going to play with my phone less. Phones are time-suckers. So I’m not going to play on my phone. Instead, I’m going to spend quality time playing on my wife’s phone.
I’m going to eat more bacon. Life is too short to deprive oneself of bacon. A woman named Susannah Mushatt Jones of Brooklyn, New York, lived until age 116. She ate a serving of bacon every day. But frankly, I don’t want to live to 116, so I will also eat queso dip to offset things.
I’m going to give to homeless people more often. Every time I drive past a homeless guy I think to myself, “He’s just looking for drugs.” But my conscience knows better. Addicts need lunch too.
I’m going to do more meaningful stuff this year. I don’t exactly know what that means, but I mean it.
I’m going to run some 5Ks or 10Ks, for good causes. I’m going to do this because I enjoy running, because I like meeting people, and above all, because there is usually free beer at the finish line.
I’m going to attend more baseball games. My old man died young, and a few nights before he died, he said, “Let’s go to more ballgames next season.” I never forgot that.
I’m going to have more fun, and not apologize for it. More fishing trips. More camping trips. And I’m finally going to get around to that honey-do list. In fact, I’m going to write the list right now, so my wife can get started.
I’m going to laugh more. And if I can’t laugh, I’m going to make someone else laugh. And if I can’t make someone laugh, I’m going to play on my wife’s phone.
More pizza. More pasta. Less salad. I’m going to make an effort to enjoy tiny moments in my life. Not just the big ones. I mean the happenings that I never pay attention to. The taste of chocolate. The smell of summer rain. Colonoscopies.
I’m going to tell people I love them. Not just family and friends, but anyone who crosses my path. I’m going to call old friends more often. I’m going to say yes more than I say no. I’m going to worry less. And whenever I catch myself worrying, I’m not going to worry about it.
And if I can’t do any of the above because I’m too uncommitted, too undisciplined, or just flat lazy. I’m not going to be disappointed in myself.
Because at least I made the bed this morning.
2 comments
Janet lord - January 2, 2024 3:23 am
I think your “little changes” are wonderful. You wouldn’t want to start the new year with such lofty ambitions you can’t possibly reach them…”like pasta & pizza”. My father who was a type II diabetic always drank a Diet Coke when he ate a chocolate nut sundae. He said you have to start small. I think I’ll actually wipe the dust off my treadmill… sounds like a good start to me. How ‘bout you?
stephen e acree - January 2, 2024 11:55 am
great one today. Today you are certainly a humorist and a darned good one, too. Telling more people you love them pretty much covers it all. And then proving it.