First Poem of the New Year
Fleas, these last December days
Regrets itch; there is little else to do.
Impatient for Opportunity,
Day Number One.
Plunge into the cold sea,
Prompt knitwear with blue logo
Issued by a sausage manufacturer,
Exuberant for publicity,
Appears on your wet head.
Confident, as portend scabs,
The money will roll in,
Are you still here reading about New Year’s Resolutions? It’s Friday, thus fish?
I tell you, I have never taken New Year’s Resolutions seriously, I must have always been blind to the calendar of martyrs. Indeed I never understood the concept of a calendar, but I didn’t grow up behind a plow and Northern California was pretty much year round rain and mist in the morning, moderate sunshine in the afternoon. One simply had to change apparel between the seasons mid-day and wonder whether it would be sushi by the afternoon or at dinner, or perhaps whether the miso soup weather report would stick until 11:55 followed by waffles.
Why not beat oneself up right out of the starting box, day one, and go take a salty frigid bath? Actually growing up in Northern California it was possible to do this every day. New Year’s Day over and over on the beach in July. We generally refrained.
Carefully considering the matter, rolling it over in my mind, I ask myself: What would I like to reprimand myself for and then make it a complex full of guilt and remorse for the coming twelve months should I prove faulty? Lose weight? I’ve slowly lost weight all year round. I’ll probably lose more so I won’t obsess about it. Drink less? I’ve stopped drinking, and except for this holiday in France, I can’t see why I would like to change habits. Apparel! Now there is an idea.
“Every time a picture is posted on FB of you on stage performing, I think to myself that’s not really Persephone,” stated my long term friend, a woman with excellent taste. Yes, every time I am about to enter the stage wearing Some Soprano Get-Up, I steel myself carefully to Make It Work While Ignoring the Fact That 93 Percent of the Time I Don’t Like What I Have On My Back. This is an area that needs work, the clothes that is, not the attitude. Continuing this matter onto daily life, having spent the last dozen years primarily in second hand clothes, I think it’s time to slowly weed out the crappy items that have retained their hold, things that fit or that basically work, while I continue to lose weight (knock on bouillon cubes) and replace them with more attractive and flattering options bit by bit per month perhaps a carefully selected item from a boutique would help. First hand, not the second hand option with moth holes. New Year’s Resolution: Get the Crustacean Stew Together and Dress Better.