There is a big, big pile some where in the world. It is the most enormous pile ever stacked up, disappearing into the infinity of the sky, but you cannot see it. Everyone on earth helped make this heap. Everyone felt real good when they tossed their contributions onto the ever-growing pile, and most people felt bad when, although the pile never stopped growing, it never achieved its purpose. The pile is made up of a very common yet admirable product that, despite its enormity has no visible body. This product has a short expiration date. The most popular growing time is from midnight of January first every year to sometime during the next two weeks. The best of worlds could be constructed from its throwaway contents. It goes by the name of “discarded good intentions.”
I will be calm and reasonable with my three adolescent children; I will absolutely remember our wedding anniversary date and send flowers, the roses that I noticed recently have thorns; I will remember to take out the trash every night without being reminded; be assured that I will take the time to vote for my town’s selectmen because all politics are local and a democracy must start from the bottom; I will not be late for work again (actually, my job is on the line). I will take those two night courses that I need for the job promotion; attend regularly all meetings of our Neighborhood Improvement Association, even those dealing with budgets, and will greet my neighbors in our condo elevator, warmly, as though I meant it. I will even be friendly to Nosy Nancy because I need to charm up my reputation and people will notice. I will visit my mother and take her out to dinner more often and also send her flowers on her birthday. I will patch up the differences I had with Fred, my fat brother-in-law and send New Year cards to all my relatives and friends. I promise to replace every burned-out light bulb immediately and vow to start making a playroom in the basement (the fingers I injured last time I began on it healed a long time ago). No more excuses. I will not honk my horn in traffic and I will get my car inspected on time to avoid penalties. I will make myself a better person of myself in all ways.
There, that says a lot and shows that I am sincere, because it will be a big job. The best thing I can do now is to quit making noise about my good intentions and start the good-intending. I need to go find my tool box. See you on January 1st.
More later, Joe
