← Columns

I Hereby Resolve. . . .

The Source

I Hereby Resolve. . . . I’ve never understood the thinking of people who make New Year’s resolutions. Heck, I make them five times a day 365 days a year. “I’m never ordering the tilapia again. . . I need to unsubscribe from that stupid magazine . . . that other white sock has got to be here somewhere. . .” I mean, don’t we spend our lives making resolutions, even if they’re unconscious? So here goes a list of resolutions aimed specifically at the year 2015, hoping that for once I’ll actually do something about them. In 2015 I hereby resolve to spend a morning drinking one cup of coffee in every shop in Jacksonville with an espresso machine. The caffeine quotient in our town has taken a delightful jump in the past couple of years and since I’m convinced that if God would have had just one more day of creation He’d have set aside a special afternoon to give birth to espresso. And if I can indeed fulfill this resolution it’ll save me fuel. After a few shots I can fly home. A Head West sandwich shop is soon to make its presence known in Jacksonville and I’m on a quest to figure out the secret of the special sauces they use. From my past tastings I’m convinced that God spent part of his extra creation day mixing the stuff. I resolve to meet with Mayor Ezard and Bruce Surratt to figure out exactly where I’m supposed to walk across the traffic lanes on the Jacksonville Square without being run down by a pickup truck whizzing across the town’s center. There must be a way to simply go from the center of the square to one of the adjoining sides without doing the Arenzville Two-Step and a ballet jump to avoid the next Chevy S-10 driven by a teenager intent on spreading my body and his hormones all over the statue in the middle of the Square. I resolve to figure out who has right of way in the turn lanes on Morton. I hope this year to find out why the state of Illinois in such a financial crisis continues to let the grounds and buildings of the Jacksonville Developmental Center turn into a Midwest version of Stonehenge. I hereby and maddeningly resolve to find the dog or cat who manages to tear into my garbage bags unless I literally run them out to the trash truck when I see it coming down the street. So far I’ve tried varmint spray, mousetraps, and were it not for the fact that my trash man seems like a nice guy I’d consider small explosive devices. I resolve to find out the identities of at least half the people on this year’s Christmas card list. Before this year’s over I resolve to figure out the religious affiliation of the cat that keeps trying to sneak into the Arenzville Methodist Church every time someone opens the door. He moves a bit like a Presbyterian, but has certain Baptist qualities. Neither of these are particularly bad things, but when you don’t know he’s in the basement and he decides to scream during the silent prayer it can be disconcerting to an elderly Methodist. And it’s a small thing, but I resolve to pay more attention to where in the heck I park my car. I refuse to use the idiot button that allows your beeping horn to announce, “He’s losing it! He’s losing it!” This year I determine to stop listening to CNN news. Just when I think a day is going well I make the mistake of tuning in to the Chicken Little Sky-Is-Falling hyperbole and I get depressed. I used to have an aunt with the temperament of Wolf Blitzer. She assumed that every breeze was indication of an upcoming tornado and a drizzle of rain would have her preparing for a flood. The woman lived in a constant state of impending doom and could have easily stepped behind the anchor desk of the network’s nightly news. And most importantly, in 2015 I hereby resolve to stop simply thinking about being thankful and start expressing it. . . . to the owners of a bookstore who move into downtown Jacksonville for no other reason that to make the town a better place, to the bag boys at County Market who actually make eye contact when they thank you for coming, to the waitresses at Norma’s North Star Café who ask you how you’re doing and mean it, to the waiter at Steak and Shake who doesn’t interrupt you when you’re talking to someone, and to the scores of fine folks who add more to our quality of life than any government, agency, or ism. I’ll resolve to simply say “Thanks!”