H. Neal Glanville: Looking at resolutions
January 18, 2010
Well, another year and another batch of well-intended resolutions have spilled forth from those we know and many more from those we don't.
Each of us has a multitude of weakness that are either in our face each morning or raise their ugly little heads when we least expect it.
Oh, sure we can pretend we're not infected by the grubby little snot-noses.
But at the end of each day, we know they've influenced us and more importantly those close to us.
I most certainly am not just referring to the overflowing bandwagon of folks who honestly are trying to rid themselves of unhealthy weakness, smoking, drinking, overeating, etc.
Although good resolutions should be treated as lifelong crusades, each daily battle bringing you closer to victory, a victory that will add years to your life and those who care about you.
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To me, a good resolution would be a resurgence of honesty and integrity in all of our relationships. It wasn't that long ago a man's word or his handshake was better than 20 pages of signed documents. If for some reason the original agreement wasn't fulfilled, a new one was spoke of, and the contract began again.
Not one of the agreeing parties ever spoke poorly of the other; they just accepted the handshake and went on, knowing the contract would be completed.
Now for something completely different
Throughout my entire life I've been struck down with an explainable fear of doctors, hospitals, anything medical that has anything to do with poking or probing my body. When I've absolutely had to visit a doctor's office I usually was carried kicking and screaming into the office of doom.
Last year, I made one of those half-hearted promises to Jane that I would visit Dr. Miller for a complete checkup. My last checkup had been so long ago that my records were in the basement, so we had to start again from scratch.
Now, getting weighed and having your blood pressure checked is tame compared to having doctor come in and listen to this and poke that.
At the end of that scarefest, as I was making my escape out the door, good ole Dr. Miller suggested I come back in for the "old man's physical." Now, it's well-known the weak side of my brain knowingly forgets things such as doctor appointments or flu shots. But "luckily" for me, Jane remembers my forgetfulness and goes beyond the call of wifehood to assure my arrival at the doctor's office.
Much to my surprise I'm in very good health, except for a rise in my cholesterol level. Strange how somebody as skinny as I am can have that kind problem. Guess I learned something.
Hey, you be careful out there