Living in the Future, By Martha Thomases – Brilliant Disguise

December 27, 2008 Martha Thomases 11 Comments

Some people divine the seasons by natural means.  They notice the angle of the sun in the sky, or the kinds of produce in season at the store, or the temperature.

Not me.  I can tell the season by the commercials on television.  This week, the Slim-Fast and Jenny Craig ads ramped up.  There are more and more ads for Nicorette gum and patches.  It must be time for New Year resolutions.

Much to the dismay of my occasional therapists, I’m not big on New Year Resolutions.  For one thing, which New Year are we talking about?  It seems like it was just Rosh Hashonah, when, as a Jew, I resolve to try to sin less and be more worthy of the blessings that are part of daily life.  Spring is also a kind of new year, when the trees sprout new growth, and the earth thaws.

What’s so special about January? Isn’t it just a convenience for calendars?

Even if I granted that this week does, in fact, mark a new year, I don’t entirely get New Year’s resolutions.  It’s not that I can’t improve myself, but my sense of reality is too strong.  I could, for example, resolve to lose 30 pounds.  I could even mean it.  But the chances are, I won’t, and it’s too discouraging to keep failing.  Instead, I can try to eat more locally, which will encourage me to eat more fruits and vegetables and less processed food.

It’s a lovely thought, but January is a horrible time for it, when the Green Market has only apples, potatoes, cabbage and turnips.  One longs for the blueberries of yesterday, and then the blueberry pies of today.

Similarly, I can resolve to get a new job.  That sounds pro-active and gung-ho and positive, doesn’t it?  Alas, I am not the person doing the hiring, so that part is out of my control.  Instead, I can make sure to check the job listings regularly, network like crazy, and keep up on my freelance.  Since I already do this, it seems like cheating to declare it a virtuous change in my routine.

For years, I would resolve each year to drink more water.  It’s a fairly easy resolution to accomplish, since New York City tap water is some of the best in the world.

Last year, I gave up Diet Coke (except for the occasional lapse, because if I swore to never have another one, I would crave it all the time), but that happened slowly, not as a New Year’s thing. I still like fizzy drinks, but substituted the less chemically enhanced seltzer, sometimes with a natural fruit flavor.  It means my caffeine is down to one cup of coffee a day.  Also, since seltzer is basically just carbonated water, it ups my water intake, making me ever more virtuous in observing the previously-mentioned resolution.

Resolutions are dour.  They resonate so perfectly with our country’s self-loathing Puritan past, implying that we are unworthy souls who must mortify our flesh to attain perfection and reach Heaven.  Instead, let those who believe in a Higher Power give Her the benefit of the doubt, assume She knew what She was doing when She created these bodies, with their wondrous cacophony of nerves, muscles and flesh, and enjoy ourselves.

In that spirit:

• I resolve to stop noticing how many of my various orifices secrete mucus, and not necessarily the fun kind.

• I will not try to persuade you to take up knitting, even though it’s a wonderful way to reduce stress and have a little tactile pleasure in your life on a regular basis.  Instead, I will let my own enthusiasm and wardrobe serve as my argument, especially these new glittery red and orange socks I just finished.

• Having said that, I will also try to remember one of the best lessons I’ve learned from knitting: everyone likes something different.  Some knitters like to knit socks, and others hate them.  Some like fair isle knitting, with lots of color work, and I don’t.  Some like bamboo needles and some like nickel plate.  As long as no one is forced to do anything, there’s no harm to these different tastes, just an opportunity to find out what is pleasurable about something I haven’t tried yet.

• I will not feel unattractive when Michael Davis goes on and on (and on and on and on) about Asian girls.

• I will spend more time playing with my cat.  She’s nearly 20 years old, and still jumps around a piece of string like a kitten.  As a writer, I should consider this a metaphor worthy of emulation.

• And, last but not least, I will try to be patient for the next three weeks and not throw things at the television during the news.  However, there is one thing I need explained to me:  Why is it that it seems like high school was yesterday, my son grew up and left home in the blink of an eye, but the time between Election Day and January 21 is lasting longer than dinosaurs walked the earth?

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Media Goddess Martha Thomases wonders why,lately, it always comes down to pie.