PHOTOGRAPH BY TIM MOSSHOLDER / UNSPLASH
When the January 2021 issue of Memphis magazine came out, I thought it would be helpful to write about New Year’s resolutions. It seemed like a good topic at that moment, right? The infamy of 2020 was being relegated to a suppressed memory and we were more than ready to move on.
After all, Covid-19 vaccinations had begun being administered in mid-December, the vilest president this country has ever endured had been soundly thrashed at the ballot box, and we dared to imagine a time in the near future when we could re-populate concerts, flock to sporting events, walk into our favorite restaurants, and send our kids to school.
Right?
I actually wrote this: “At least there is a sense that we are making progress toward some variant of normal.” Maybe there was a sense of it, but hoo-boy, I could have chosen a better word than “variant.” And I might be in favor of legislation banning the word “normal,” and related variants (sorry), such as “back to normal” and “near normal” and “almost normal.”
Another one of my incisive insights was this: “I predict many people will resolve to be less stupid.” Okay, I know, go ahead and cackle. Even I snorted when I reread that.
But as dawn broke on January 1st of this year, I was as ignorant of what was to come as someone who gets their scientific expertise from YouTube. I did know that vaccines were more than 90 percent effective but I couldn’t imagine a tribe of rugged individualists would decide they didn’t want no stinkin’ shots. The defeated occupant of the White House seemed like a pouty loser but within a week would demonstrate how he was more of an injured rattlesnake ready to strike.
Apparently, I had learned nothing from the previous four years.
Meanwhile, we did make progress on returning to sporting events in big numbers (apologies, Tokyo Olympics), to concerts large and small, and to our beloved eateries, at least the ones that had survived. And getting our children back to classrooms has been a resounding success, right? Never mind the low-wattage and/or power-hungry mask-phobic politicians who actively try to prevent protection against a global pandemic.
In fairness, though, a resolution to elect smarter politicians was never on the list.
My thoughts from earlier this year also proposed a couple of other improvements to strive for. Like doing less Zooming, which at this point seems like railing against the weather. Zoom meetings are essentially like the meetings we had before there was a Zoom. Or a pandemic. Those early in-person meetings also had windbags, opinionators, jokesters, and many agenda items of minimal interest. In this new age, attendees must still feign interest. These get-togethers seem like the least aggravating encounters we can have stumbling into September after eight months of an unimpressive 2021. At least we can be maskless in our sweatpants.
Another one of my incisive insights was this: “I predict many people will resolve to be less stupid.” Okay, I know, go ahead and cackle. Even I snorted when I reread that.
But what are we to do? We make resolutions because we want to be better, to do better. We are humanity, the noblest creatures in all the universe to ever sabotage a planet. We have the power of civilization and the sort of superior intellect that can send billionaires partly into space even as we melt the poles. We can certainly command the weather to improve, right?
I, for one, have a few ideas for revising resolutions, and maybe re-revising them. I am resolved to encourage forgiveness as long as time has been served and restitution made. I’m determined to tip my servers generously unless a hot beverage is spilled in my lap (still, a minimum of 20 percent). I shall observe local laws and ordinances although I reserve the right to go 5 m.p.h. over the speed limit (except in school zones where I will be strict constructionist).
To cast a wider net, I will not judge. Unless someone is an absolute loon. Or rude. Or cruel. Or litters. Or overdoes tanning lotion. Or writes real badly. Or abuses living things (mosquitoes and cockroaches excepted). Or abuses books. Or gets me to agree to something I don’t approve of. Or fails to take responsibility. Of course if I am elected to be a judge, all this will change.
And, finally, I won’t make any more lists. From now on, I’ll simply be living in the now.
