Wednesday, January 7, 2009

Happy New Year, can I go to bed now?

With the second week of 2009 well underway, I wonder how many people have already failed on their New Year’s resolutions.
I used to be among those who made resolutions every Dec. 31, and I was also among the many who failed miserably at keeping them.
I would throw out the typical resolutions: I will exercise more, I won’t say any bad words (that one often ended with the morning hangover), I will not get so frustrated, I will stop eating rabbits, you know, the kind of resolutions everyone makes.
The futility of such declarations became obvious quite a few years ago and I decided to make one final resolution which turned out to be the only resolution I ever kept: I made a resolution to never again make a resolution.
Mission accomplished. I have never been plagued by the ridiculous self promises since.
Life is much easier when you lower the bar.
I have managed to stop saying bad words (well, mostly anyway) and I quit smoking many years ago, but neither was done because of a resolution.
Many of the changes have come with maturity, also known as getting old.
I will be in the middle of my F-years in 2009 and I posses the wisdom that comes with being an old fart in training.
I have it all planned as well. I want to be a crotchety, grumpy old man who spends his time lamenting about the “good ol’ days” and how these young pups have life so easy.
I can hardly wait. But I am not there yet and am in a sort of transition stage of life. It’s kind of like a reverse tweenie. You know those confusions years when you are not a kid and not a teen, but stuck somewhere in the middle.
Well I am definitely not a pup anymore and I am still have a while to go before becoming a grumpy old man, so I am spending my time maturity limbo.
Every morning I roll out of bed – which typically involves a lot more noise than it used to as my knees and back pop so much it sounds like someone is twisting a sheet of bubble wrap – I have another day to add to my list of memories.
Things have changed greatly since I was a young lad. Not just the world around me, but within me.
No, I am not talking about the need for the proper kind of fibre, but more of a mindset.
Seeing as how we are on the subject, let’s use New Years as an example.
When I was younger, and had a lot more hair, I had a lot more energy. Maybe it’s the whole Samson thing where your hair is the key to your strength, or maybe I was just full of pee and vinegar and had to get it out somehow.
Either way, I am now balder and much more energy reduced than that strapping lad of yesteryear.
I can remember when the clock struck midnight people would whoop and holler and hug and jump around and the serious partying could begin.
“Yeeeehaaaaw, it’s midnight. Happy New Year. Party On. Whooo.”
Oh, how things of changed.
Now it’s more like, “Yeeehaaw. It’s midnight I can finally go to bed. ZZZZZZZZ.”
Also gone are the bottles of Vodka that screamed to be slogged as fast as possible, replaced by a bottle wine that whispers to be sipped with some friends.
The huge parties are replaced by intimate gatherings with a few fellow OFITs (old farts in training.)
Back in the day, a New Years party lasted into the wee hours of the morning. Now, the New Years party lasts until roughly 12:10 when all the OFITs agree it is time to celebrate the arrive of the next year by getting some sleep.
On a brighter note, also gone are the hangovers, the empty wallets from a night of boozing and the “At what bar did I leave my car?” conundrum.
The good ol’ days may have been good, but the current days are a lot less tiring.
Happy New Year and good night.

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