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RESOLUTION HELL

By: Ed Creamer

A friend of mine decided this next year was the year for him to make some New Year’s Resolutions. He use to make them faithfully every year. Then, it seems, the Scheduling Officer found out he could make them for him better. Like the time he helped him resolve to get more night flying hours. Now, he was going to get around to making that one by himself sooner or later. It’s just that Scheduling thought it should be by making back-to-back night medevacs.


My wife use to tell me some of the things I resolved just weren’t resolutions. Like the time I resolved to hit the Powerball Lottery for millions. I mean, what’s wrong with that? Or the time I resolved to spend more time with my mother-in-law. Only, it had to be out on the lake, ice fishing, in upstate New York, in January. Was it my fault she didn’t fish?


After that I kind of lost interest in resolutions. I mean it’s not as if you get two for one odds on successfully fulfilling a resolution. Nor do you get entered into any big Super Bowl drawing if you complete any resolutions. So, I quit making them.


This year the wife and I made a pact. She cut me some slack about my resolutions and I won’t make any more comments about her latest weight loss scheme. Peace and harmony will reign once again in our quarters.


My first resolution is to clean out the garage. Everything that is unnecessary is out the door. Now, before we go rushing into this, there are a lot of things out there I might need someday and I can’t throw them out. Things like an old field marching pack with bed roll, five cases of field rations minus the smokes, extra 1:25,000 maps of places I might go back to someday, and some tools I might someday get around to fixing. Oh, my old trolling motor needs to stay. Look, I never said it was going to be “wife clean”.


You know, I think I dress as nice as most guys do. Even been known to put on a tie that matches my sneakers. But, for some reason, I’m told I need to resolve to dress better. Therefore, I resolve to no longer watch Monday night football in the living room in my skivvies while her sister is here. But all bets are off for March Madness.


I resolve not to help decorate the house. I will no longer answer when she asks, “Which color do you like?” Regardless of which one I pick, it’s wrong. Look, I never saw anything wrong with wallpaper of the Coors Twins.  And, I thought the background used in a full shot of the Dallas Cowboys Cheerleaders matched any paint scheme.