A DAY IN THE LIFE: NEW YEAR'S RESOLUTIONS -- WHY FOOL OURSELVESW?

Another new year, another list of resolutions. Of course, I have to be different so my list isn't exactly like most people's.

I don't make this long, complex list of character and personality flaws that I would like to improve. I don't plan to lose weight or quit smoking (if I smoked). I don't want to cut down on my swear words or start exercising. Unlike most people, I ABHOR exercising and LOVE swear words.

After all, I'm a man of my word and to make promises that I know I wouldn't keep would make a liar of me.

Besides, if people did keep their resolutions, they wouldn't have to make new lists every year. After a couple of years of whittling away all their bad traits, they'd be perfect.

"Well, nothing I can change about myself this year," you'd say. "After six years of keeping my new year's resolutions, I'm in great shape; kind to everyone; a great spouse, parent and friend. And I've been made the patron saint of generosity."

Yeah, right.

People just don't work that way. They make the list, keep the promises for maybe three or four weeks and then give up.

I didn't REALLY want to lose 600 pounds ANYway.

"And besides," we tell ourselves, "at least I gave it the old college try."

This comparison is a true one. I know many college students who started college and quit after a couple of weeks. They gave college a try and didn't like it.

Resolutions are the same way.

So I do things a little differently. What I do at the first of the year is make a list of worst-case scenarios that sound like things I would do -- which almost always involve some degree of stupidity -- and promises not to do them.

"Okay," I say to myself on Jan. 1. "This year, I could rob a bank and have lots of money. Let's not do that. You would go to jail. Robbing a bank is a bad idea."

It's easy enough, really. Let's try another one: "I might decide to try to swim across the mighty Mississip. Since that possibly could involve drowning, let's not, okay?"

The list continues: I could head to Nashville and be a country singer like my future father-in-law is always talking about doing. My new year's advice to myself -- don't.

I could shave my head and live in a commune with a bunch of Buddhist monks, vowing a life of inner peace and celibacy. I definitely would prefer NOT to live a life of celibacy, but whether I was a monk or not, I would have such a life with a shaved head. Put that on my list of things NOT to do, for sure.

Or I could quit my job and sit around eating bon bons and watching Oprah's shows on such interesting topics as "transvestite showgirls who want to adopt children." Guess I'd better not.

The list of stupid things to do is endless, especially where I am concerned.

I realize that these promises are easy to keep, and that's the whole point. I make easy promises but at least I KEEP them, unlike all of the people who promise that -- starting Jan. 1 -- they are going to become the person they've always wanted to be.

There's nothing wrong with wanting to better ourselves. But I think we should do it a little at a time all the time. Not just a half-hearted attempt at the beginning of the year.

And instead of making a list of impossible-to-reach goals, why not just have one thing on your list. It's just as hard to do sometimes, but it encompasses all of the things that usually go on new year's resolution lists in one sentence: Do unto others as you would have them do unto you.

Can I hear a hearty amen?