Column: The silly tradition of resolutions may just get me this year

It’s that time of year when humans face the ultimate indignity, the dreaded New Year’s resolution.

Ugh, how I detest blatant and transparent “feel-good” rituals. They wear me out.

To borrow a slightly altered phrase from the classic film, “The Treasure of the Sierra Madre”: “Resolutions? We don’t need no stinkin’ resolutions.”

Here here.

I make it a habit never to concoct a resolution intended to artificially stimulate my internal impulses. I’m a free spirit when it comes to self-discipline, though one wouldn’t necessarily label me the “free-spirity” type.

Due possibly to my introverted nature, I routinely skip out on enthusiastic public pronouncements of resolutions. I ignore them. I can say with certainty that I’ve never made a New Year’s resolution in my life. Not once.

With all those Jan. 1 bowl games, and eight gazillion showings and re-showings of the Rose Parade, who’s got time to ponder his or her shortcomings at the New Year? July 1 maybe. When Jan. 2 arrives, frankly, I’m one spent chaw of thoroughly masticated Bazooka Joe bubble gum.

There’s always next year. That’s been my M-O until now.

How’s it worked out for me? Not well. Because of my behavior, some of my stronger Type-A brethren label me a slug — a shell-less terrestrial gastropod mollusk. And they’re not referring to those slugs with a purpose, like escargot.

No, my detractors would argue that I — a highlighter yellow banana slug (Ariolimax) — am not sufficiently motivated to improve my lot.

Pshaw. What I’ve been doing for years is pace myself. No sense depleting your feedbag before the final furlong.

But, I’ve arrived at a fork in the road and am considering turning over a new leaf (not to mention counting my chickens). I just may formulate my first-ever resolution this year. Yep, I may.

Why, exactly, would I do that?

I admit that I rarely set time aside for self-betterment activities. I’ve been too slovenly all these years to actually designate significant periods of time to improve myself.

Therefore, New Year’s resolutions could actually prove to be a boon for me.

Seventy-two New Year’s Eves/Days have come and gone, and not a single resolution has arisen from the few remaining sinews in this clattering bag of elk antlers.

But all streaks end. That’s what they say. I mean, look at Army beating Navy last year after 14 losses in a row. I was beginning to feel that Army would never subdue Navy again.

Then, voila! Army nips Navy 21-17 in 2016 to snap an appalling skein and end Westpoint’s dark night of the soul.

Oh, ye of little faith.

And, to preclude themselves from being labeled “one-year wonders,” the Cadets did it again this month, beating the Midshipmen, 14-13. A scant differential, but oh so significant. That, too, was sweet.

So, if I make a resolution for 2018, what exactly should I be resolute about?

Examine what I accomplished in 2017 without benefit of a New Year’s resolution. Ahem, I scrubbed sugar and caffeine from my life entirely. Gone. Zippo. Finis.

It’s been five months now, and I’ve not consumed a single Hershey’s kiss, spoonful of Breyers to-die-for chocolate truffle ice cream, or swig of Starbucks’ triple-shot cinnamon dolce. My lips may be chapped from the Santa Anas, but they’re pristine.

Correspondingly, my A1C numbers have moved south for the first time in a decade.

I’m in this to win.

That brings me to my 2018 New Year’s resolution.

If I’m going to do this, I should … go big. I need to select a resolution that’s darned near impossible to accomplish, like: grow a sixth finger on my left hand; add 25 points to my IQ; or acquire a killer wardrobe.

Hello.

All right, that might be out of reach, but I do think I should stretch myself.

So, here goes. My 2018 resolution is: to make my first New Year’s resolution ever … in 2019.

There it is. I feel better.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have some football games and Rose Parade footage to watch.

JIM CARNETT, who lives in Costa Mesa, worked for Orange Coast College for 37 years.