Yes, George Clooney, I Will!



The closest I'll ever get to George.

I’ve been thinking about discipline lately. Mostly that I don’t have any. Back on the eve of 2013, those around me made their annual vows to lose weight, read more, feed the hungry, or reconnect with loved ones.

Me? Here it is two months into the New Year, and I’m just now thinking of resolutions.

Flawed, and tardy, as I am, I’ve devised my own set of profound goals for 2013, but I better get crackin’. What takes most folks 12 months to do, I must accomplish in a mere 10.

1.    I finally say Yes! to George Clooney and make him the happiest man in the world. Oh, sure. I possess all of the qualities he looks for in a woman: the body of Beyonce, the brains of Natalie Portman, and the unmarked smooth face of Justin Bieber. Until now I’ve been resistant to his subtle, nearly imperceptible, come-ons, wanting to be to more than eye candy. But what the heck. George, I’m yours. I can’t wait for him to meet my mother.

2.    I stop my intimidation on the American River Bike Trail. Fellow bicyclists must feel less-than when they see me hunched over my Schwinn 3-speed, Wal-Mart helmet bobbing above my head. They pass. First, it’s the young, well-muscled dudes, and then the fit and focused females, followed by wobbly children, and finally trained Labradors on skate boards. Their cries of Left! or Get off the trail, granny! make me wish they’d just relax. Keep at it, fellow cyclists, and you, too, will be an imposing athletic specimen one day.

3.    I refuse the Pulitzer Prize. I’m sorry, but I cannot in good conscience accept your little award. It would crush the spirits of so many struggling writers. I’ll content myself by sharing company with the likes of J. D. Salinger and Ernest Hemingway, fellow auteurs who didn’t win. Salinger for Catcher in the Rye and Hemingway for For Whom the Bell Tolls. There are some things that transcend a simple medal.

4.    I recommit myself to keeping up with the average American. Researchers say that we watch 34 hours of television per week, consume 3,800 calories per day, and one-third of us nap daily. It’ll be tough, and I may have to train. Get out of my way. I need to grab a pizza before I hit the couch for sleep and a Walking Dead marathon.