Resolutions, the Jetsons, and the Marlboro Man


Weren’t we all supposed to be flying our cars around multilevel air highways like the Jetsons by now? And what about those space-needle apartments with robot maids? It’s 2008 and I’m still making my own coffee.

Never mind. It’s time to make resolutions I won’t keep.

Number 1: Go to the gym every day for three hours until I have abs like that gal on The Firm video.

Number 2: Finish every novel I’ve ever started and publish them all. Wear sunglasses to Kroger to escape adoring public.

Number 3: Serve champagne to the Publisher’s Clearinghouse Sweepstakes Prize Patrol when they come calling.

Number 4: Meet Mr. Right, the poet/cowboy/handsome/no crazy ex-wives/millionaire, live happily ever after, and such.

Number 5: Clean out the garage.

Done. If I’m going to disappoint myself it’s best to go all the way.