Picture this: It's New Year's Eve. P and C are sitting in front of the TV with Pillsbury frozen pseudo-EBA's breadsticks and chunky Ragu Homestyle Tomato Sauce in Warren, New Jersey contemplating the meaning of New Year's and what this year has in store for them in Hanover, New Hampshire.
By the last breadstick the two of them have almost succeeded in convincing themselves that it is totally cool not to have any plans for New Years and that staying home and ringing in the New Year with Dick Clark is better than any party they could possibly go to ...
C Says: Well, P, as much as I love you and Dick Clark, I heard my acquaintance, D, is having a party in Manhattan. Wanna go?
P Says: OK.
Resolution #1: Have plans for New Years next year.
So within two minutes P and C had showered, put on their black cocktail dresses and had arranged transportation to the city with their girlfriends from Fairlawn, New Jersey. Before P and C knew it, they were standing in D's doorway handing him a box of chocolate and thanking him for inviting them. And then the party began.
P Says: So I started talking to this guy, T, from Yale who was quite congenial and intelligent. We were involved in a deep, meaningful and highly stimulating conversation about the pros and cons of corporations vs. private businesses and how that relates to the national debt. Right as I was waiting with baited breath for him to reveal the crux of his argument in favor of corporations, the countdown to midnight began. Then he was gone. Oh well.
Resolution #2: Have someone to kiss next New Year's.
C Says: I feel for you P. I, too, was engaged in a conversation with someone who went to college ... I think. We were talking about the pros and cons of ... something. Then he asked me to go out on the balcony with him to look at the stars as the countdown began. I said no thanks ... I think. And that's where my memory fails me. Oh well.
Resolution #3: Try to be sober enough to kiss someone next New Years.
P Says: So the party was winding down and I began to truly contemplate the meaning of New Year's. I started seriously pondering whether or not I had taken full advantage of the past year and I wanted to resolve all qualms I had at that moment. So I looked for C and saw her intently watching the final moments of the Dick Clark special on TV. I felt bad interrupting her profound concentration but I needed her expertise. So I said, "C wake up. I have a problem. What were your resolutions last year?"
C Says: Well P, last year I promised that I would immerse myself in the intellectual life surrounding me and that I would take full advantage of every opportunity that arose that would enrich my life. I also vowed to help the world thrive and to become a better person while doing so.
P Says: Wow. I feel so inferior, C. Did you achieve all your goals and bask in the satisfaction of knowing that you made a difference in the world?
C Says: Huh? What? Oh, no of course not. P, you know just as well as I do that it's pointless to make resolutions like that. Now shut up, I want to watch this part.
P Says: OK.
Resolution #4: Don't make resolutions on New Year's. Just have a good one.
Note: This is a fictitious scenario. P and C had a plethora of social options to partake in. The hard part was deciding which one to engage in ... or something.
