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Try not to do anything dumb in 2018

In the Light

I’m going to try and not do anything dumb in 2018.

I know, I say that every year.

Not so much “not do anything dumb in 2018” because that would be … Well, dumb.

It’s more like, “I’m going to try and not do anything dumb in the upcoming year.”

It wouldn’t make any sense whatsoever if I said, “I’m going to try and not do anything dumb in 2018,” in December of 2014.

For instance I’m not going to climb a ladder to my roof when nobody is around to watch me fall.

Falling, I have found out, is like an art form. It takes a certain style and panache to fall — especially from a ladder — and jump up and act cool and say something like, “Ha! Knew that trick would work!” when there is nobody watching.

Plus, it hurts more.

I think it’s the ultra quick getting up and acting all James Bond-like.

What I should do is just lay still and make sure nothing important is broken.

Not nearly as nifty though.

In fact, I think I should just lay on the ground and make sure nothing is displaced and/or broken before I jump up like a super stunt man and pull the old “I’m a paid professional … Don’t try this at home” bit.

Or maybe I should try not to fall.

Nah! I have to test gravity at least once a week or I’m just not being true to myself.

I’m also going to try harder to remember names.

Some people blame this phenomena on getting old, but not me. I’m just not good with names.

Never have been.

I can tell you how I know a person, how I met them, what they do, that sort of thing, but I struggle with names.

It doesn’t help that the first time I can’t fish a person’s name out of memory I tend to just make one up for them.

Hence my son’s girlfriend, Rhonda, became Darla, which transformed into Dar-Rhonda, which turned into Doooonna on Christmas day when even my made up name for the fair maiden slipped my mind and I somehow got caught between Dar-Rhonda and Rhonda and came out with Doooonna.

If people would change their names to lyrics from really good songs I’d be able to remember them.

I wouldn’t be caught saying things like, “Hey … Carl? OOOH! Sorry, Benny.”

I would be able to say, “How’s it going ‘But now here you are, and here I am.’”

Or, “What’s up ‘Well every highway that I go down seems to be longer than the last one that I knew about?’”

And they could answer by saying, “Not much, Flash.”

See how much simpler that would be? How much smarter I would seem?

Plus, I’ve always wanted to be called “Flash.”

That’s another thing I have to do in 2018.

Give myself a really cool nickname.

I used to want to be called, “Flash.”

That ain’t gonna happen. After 56 years of life I now realize I’ll never be called “Flash.”

I don’t even get “Fl…”

People see me and, trust me, they don’t think “Flash.”

Actually, I don’t know what they think, but it’s not, “Flash.”

I hope it’s not “Sluggo.”

I’d hate being called “Sluggo.”

It would be like, “Hey, there’s Sluggo. Where’s the salt?”

Very bad imaging with that.

So, no falling, remember names, forget about “Flash.”

There are many of things I’m going to try and be better at in 2018.

There are a lot of things I want to accomplish in 2018.

For instance, after I give up falling once a week I’d like to try running in something like a 5k race. It’s been a long time since I actually ran.

I walk quite a bit, but running is like next level impossible for me.

So I guess that 5k stuff goes along with getting healthy again.

I know, it sounds boring because everybody plans on getting healthy during the next year.

“Yes, I’m going to be healthy, lose weight, and call Ken ‘Sluggo,’” seems to be among the favorite New Year resolutions.

I might take up a worthwhile hobby/pastime, too.

I might volunteer to save the polar bears, or water buffaloes, or little piglets.

Maybe I’ll volunteer time at the unloved potted plant shelter.

Or maybe I’ll learn a new skill to go along with the one skill that I have.

I could learn how to fly.

That would be pretty nifty.

And useful.

Next time I fall, I’d just take off up in the air because I think clouds are a lot softer than ground is.

And I think zooming off into the sky would be neater than jumping up and acting like a trained stunt man when I know I shouldn’t jump up and act like a trained stunt man because I probably pulled my spleen or something and I know I’m going to pay for that in about an hour.

And if I learned to fly I wouldn’t have to worry about other people’s names and such because who else is going to be up in the air with me?

Just call me “Rocket Man,” or “Fly Guy.”