It was December 31, 1983 , George Orwell’s day of reckoning would be upon the world in a few hours. Just 31 days later I was going to turn 24 years old. The rotary phone in my house rang around 2:00 PM. “No problem Bruce, I can get a date by then, pick me around eight.” At 23 I had never had a steady girlfriend. When it came to relationships, maturity, and commitment , I was an “A-1 jerk.” Despite my callowness I had enough bravado to pick up the phone that night and start dialing for a date. My standard line at that time was: ” would you like to get together?” In my narcissistic cleverness I believed that did not leave the damsel much wiggle room. It was a trap that left little escape except for a reply of “yes” or a flat out rude “no”. The more sophisticated young lady might say “it depends on the date ,” to which I would gently remind her that was not the question and then repeat the original query . I actually made contact with eight different girls that New Years eve (some of which are Facebook friends of mine today), with the exception of my last desperate telephone conversation I got very similar responses. “Yes I would like to get together but not tonight, I have plans. My final call went to a local New Paltz girl, who at the time was a freshman in college, and I had previously been on a date with. “I do not plans tonight, but no I do not want to get together with you.”
Myself, Bruce and what would turn out to be his future bride (Stacey) went to dinner and a few bars that night. As the ball dropped I was alone, and for the first time beginning to understand this was becoming a regular occurrence for a supposed “Player” such as myself. Nothing sucks more than having a reputation as a player but in reality never getting put in the game. That night , as a solitary man standing in Ward’s Bridge Inn, I made my first and last New Year’s resolution. I was resolute that I was going to change my cocky attitude and behavior towards the opposite sex. I was alone and realized in was not so much out of my choosing but more a result of the arrogant and rude egotistical persona which I represented. Looking back over the last 30 years I am convinced it is only official New Years’ declaration I have ever made.
Every day, every moment is a chance for us to set goals and impose positive change upon ourselves. No doubt January one is a day the general masses point to as their start to affecting new agendas. On this date it is easy to make promises, to pledge to ourselves of the amazing year we are about to enjoy. “I will quit smoking,” “Friday night is the only night I will consume alcohol.” ” I will work out at least 3 days a week.” “I will read four books in the next year.” These are specific measurable milestones that will either be accomplished , or not. Beyond ascertain goals are the vague and more abstract resolutions: ” I am going to be a kinder person.” My work ethic is going to improve.” I am going to be a better listener.” ” I want to become more spiritual.” It is estimated that 80% of our populations admit they make New Year’s resolutions. Less than 5% take credit for actually following through. Even in a small poll I conducted the statistics say a large number of people do make a resolution but their plans quickly fizzle out. My father use to make many proclamations about what he was going to do after the holidays. My brother and myself assumed he meant after the Christmas Holidays and the start of the New Year. When questioned in mid January as to why he was not executing his plan he would say, “I meant the President’s Holiday.”
It has become more of a punch line then an effective tool for self improvement. We make proclamations , with minimal commitment, and less accountability. Why do we need a date on the calendar to think about making personal adjustments. On August 31, we can declare we are going to stop one of our annoying uncharitable habits, or any day for that matter. I came down stairs this morning and was greeted by our loyal and long time nanny, housekeeper, and overall friend to our family, Linda. “Good morning Linda, Happy New Year. Have you made any resolutions for the new year? ” ” I did, I made one this year but I am not going to tell you because I make one every year and never follow through.” I groveled and begged to get an answer with a promise to keep a secret. (First broken promise of the new year) “I am not going to work as hard this year,” she laughed .” That was the first time I ever heard that resolution. It sounds like an easy one to accomplish, possibly good for your health, but not so fruitful for your economic standing.
Driving to my office I thought about Linda’s humorous resolution and knew her proposal could not work for me . Starting my own business and with two girls in college I need to work a lot harder in 2015 than I did this past year. Besides, I have made but one New Years’ resolution in my life, and do not feel like risking my perfect record of following through. In that unaccompanied instance when 1983 was turning to 1984 I resolved moving forward I was going to treat women with respect, endearment, and adulation. In 1984 I began my first serious long term relationship with a member of the opposite sex. We were married five years later and have survived 25 years of matrimony. The eighth girl I called on that long ago New Years eve, (255-0867) was the only potential suitor who directly told me she did not want to get together with me. That discerning young girl was a 19 year old college freshman named Donna Burnham. (Siegel)
