My first New Year’s resolution was to wait until the middle of the month to make the rest of my New Year’s resolutions. So here they are:
AFC West kindness: I resolve that in 2013 I will be kinder to the fans of rival NFL teams of my beloved Oakland Raiders. Instead of “accidentally” smacking Denver Broncos fans upside their heads Stooge-style with a 2-by-4, I will now, ala Thor, simply bounce a kinder, gentler rubber mallet off their domes.
Abey baby fashion plate: I resolve to rock one of those big ol’ Abraham Lincoln stove pipe hats as often as possible and thus singleheadedly bring them back into fashion.
Fairfield body parts: I will give the Fairfield City Council my proposal that we change the iconic Texas Street Fairfield sign’s motto underneath the name to read “Heart of Solano County” instead of “County Seat Solano County.” While I know the latter is a legal designation, changing to the former will cut down on butt jokes.
Sweet emotion: I resolve to give credit where credit is due. For instance, I wrote a column last May in support of Measure L, the tax for the Solano County Library, and in it I pointed out that the library was missing some key Aerosmith albums – namely “Rocks” and “Toys in the Attic.” Well, after the measure passed, I checked again and they now carry both discs. Bravo! Next up on my library wish list: recliners.
How tall are you? Instead of saying “6 foot 4,” I resolve to always reply “5 foot 16” when asked this question.
Working in words: It’s a real shame that some awesome words have been mothballed. This year, I resolve to work a couple of my favorites into conversations as often as I can. They are “ballyhoo” (sensational or clamorous advertising or publicity) and “pantaloon” (men’s wide breeches extending from waist to ankle, worn especially in England in the late 17th century).
What’s in a name? I will once and for all decide on a name for my bubblegum pop/death metal band between the finalists “Sunflower Annihilation” and “Gigglefit at the Guillotine.’”
Bandit must go: I resolve to finally concede that my wife was right: having a wild raccoon as an indoor pet was not a great idea. Especially since he’s been dead for three months.
Han Solo shot first: In 2013, I resolve to finally finish my 843-page (so far) manifesto about George Lucas. The first half of it spells out my undying love of “Star Wars,” “The Empire Strikes Back” and “Return of the Jedi,” and the rest vilifies those blasphemous prequels and how Lucas has ruined his aforementioned masterpiece trilogy by digitally tinkering with it repeatedly. Once my manifesto is completed, I will hand deliver it to his home in Marin County if I can somehow get around the pesky restraining order thing.
Get relevant: I will update the culture references I use in my columns to 1985.
Patent my theater silencer: I’ve tried for two years to develop a localized ultraviolet sound-dampening ray that I could configure as an app on my smartphone and then invisibly and silently hush the crinkling candy wrappers belonging to oblivious rude theatergoers during a movie. Problems kept arising, though, and I realized I was over-thinking it. It’s not the wrappers; it’s the morons manipulating them during crucial cinematic moments. My theater silencer is now a pygmy blowgun armed with knock-out darts.
Explorer: I resolve to finally go spelunking in a Suisun City pothole.
LocalBandapalooza: I resolve to do everything in my power to make a daylong celebration of past local bands playing in front of the Fairfield Civic Center pond come to fruition. Bands could include, but not be limited to, the Yewess Army, Rosewood, CP Krunt, The Natural Soul Band, Cottonmouth and Laser Boy. You may say I’m a dreamer, but Woodstock started with a few stoned hippies thinking how cool it would be to get a few friends together to watch great bands. I am neither stoned nor a hippie, but to get this thing rolling, I will even wear my much ballyhooed pantaloons that day.
Reach Fairfield writer Tony Wade at [email protected]