Every year I announce them to the family. And every year I mean what I say. But every year by—oh, I'd say about Jan. 1— I've broken them all.

I guess the trouble is, somehow it always comes down to the same two resolutions ... watch what I eat, and get more exercise.

"Hey, Dad," blurted the college kid. "You did pretty well with that first one last year."

Why do I know I'm going to hate the next line?

"I think you made it all the way to the Rose Bowl, then we brought out the Fritos and clam dip!" And with that he burst into laughter.

I wonder how hard he'll be laughing when the grocery money stops coming next semester?

"That's not fair," said the oldest. "Don't forget that Dad did get more exercise last year."

"Well, thanks, son," I said, proud of the boy for coming to my defense.

"Don't you guys remember when the batteries went dead in the remote? For a week he had to get up every time he wanted to change the channel." Then he joined in the laughter.

Hmm ... sounds like it's about time to raise his rent!

"Face it," said Natalie, "it just doesn't seem like you can keep a New Year's resolution. Why do you even bother to make them?"

"Because it's a tradition," I said defensively. "And this year I really plan to stick to them."

Who am I kidding? I've never been able to keep one yet. Last year I came about as close as I ever have. I resolved to watch my fat intake and knock off a few pounds. I achieved at least part of the resolution. I didn't lose any weight, but I did watch my fat intake—one mouthful at a time. Yeah, not exactly a sterling tribute to my willpower!

Well, you know what they say: Today is the first day of the rest of my life; you are what you eat; you have nothing to fear but fear it ... uh, well, you know what I mean.

So I don't care what they say, because this year I really mean it. I'm making my resolutions and sticking to them:

* I resolve to eat healthier ...

"Hey, Dad," said the oldest. "I heard a new Krispy Kreme doughnut shop is coming to Saratoga in February."

Great. Well, at least I might make it for a month.

* I resolve to get more exercise ...

"Sure, Dad," said the college kid. "Remember last year? You threw out your back dragging the treadmill in from the garage."

Ouch! I think I pulled a muscle typing that last line.

* I resolve to save a few dollars for a rainy day ...

"Oh, Pops," said the youngest, "the new semester's starting soon. Gonna need money for books."

"Hey, Dad," added the oldest. "I think my transmission is going out. Could you lend me a few bucks?"

Then my wife chimed in, "While you guys are watching football for the next four days, I think I'm going to the mall to catch up on my after-Christmas shopping."

Well, it is starting to cloud up a bit.

* I resolve to get my Christmas shopping done earlier and get the packages wrapped sometime before 6 a.m. on Christmas Day ...

Ah, I have plenty of time—there are still 361 shopping days left 'til Christmas.

* I resolve to get the oil changed every 3,000 miles ...

Or 12 months, whichever comes first.

* I resolve to tolerate my wife's musical tastes ...

"Dick!" she screeched. "Do you know that Yanni's coming back to the HP Pavilion?"

Oh, geez ... I won't even try!

* I resolve to quit smoking ...

"Wait a minute," shot back my wife. "You don't smoke."

Shoot! I knew I could keep that one!

"Why can't you just face the fact you cannot keep a New Year's resolution?" she asked.

You know, she's right. So I guess the moral of this sad, pathetic story—if there is a moral to this story—is to make resolutions you can keep. Soooo ...

This year I'm going to go about it in an entirely different way. I resolve to break every resolution I make.

Now that's one resolution I know I can keep!

Happy New Year!

Want to talk? Give me a call at 408.354.3110, or write to dsparrer@svcn.com.