Celebrating my 89.5th birthday, I’ve compiled a dozen promises to myself for 2015:
1. Keep breathing (If it doesn’t happen, forget the following resolutions)
2. Exercise regularly (Stop using the TV remote. Get up, jog three athletic strides and change channels)
3. Be kind to the unfortunate. (Not gonna give $10 to the homeless guy I see daily. Today he was chugging expensive booze, smoking a filter tip cigarette and gabbing on his SmartPhone. True story!)
4. Love my neighbor. (I’d try, but her husband might show up suddenly)
5. Get politically active. (This year, to be fair, I’ll curse Democrats, Republicans, Vladimir, ISIS and the fat little North Korean guy, but start to love old Fidel and the late Che)
6. Stop watching stupid TV shows. (They’re now all stupid, and will get worse in 2015. So I’ll just turn off the boob tube and read a whatcha-ma-call-it, er, uh, book)
7. Contact old friends. (Considering my age, that means using a Ouija Board)
8. Stop claiming I won World War II all by myself. (Confess had a bit of help from Ike Eisenhower, Blood and Guts Patton, Bull Halsey, along with 10 million Greatest Generation GIs, Swabbies and Gyrenes)
9. Learn to use the SmartPhone. (When out walking, I keep tripping over the wire of my 1915 candlestick desk telephone)
10. Won’t drink and drive. (Too damned old to get behind the wheel, so, I’ll continue to drink and fly, sit, walk and stagger.
11. Buy a lottery ticket and win millions. (What the hell! I can dream, can’t I?)
12. Wish you all a Happy New Year!