This post will send in the wee hours o’ New Year’s Eve 2024.  Here, in the good ole US of A, New Year’s Eve is amateur alcoholics night, when teetotalers, and even those with a serious drinking problem, know to leave the roads to those idiots who binge drink once a year, loud-singing the Robert Burns anthem, “Should auld acquaintance be fergot an’ nev’r braught ta maieend, . . .” followed by sloppy kisses and hugs.

The still slightly sober may ask, “What the hell does “Auld Lang Syne” mean anyway?” To which a more pedantic tippler-friend may answer, “Old long seen, or days and friends long gone, in short, the ‘good-ole-days.’”

Early in the flow of whiskey-wine-and-beer, some may ask, “Got any ‘New Year’s Resolutions?’” In these settings, the answers range from the “Nah, don’t believe in ’em,” to “Oh, the usual, Exercise more, spend more time with friends and family.” When I was in with this crowd, I did not encounter any who were truly serious about the annual self-improvement ritual.

In my experience, most New Year’s resolutions spring from the New Year’s Day hangover and timid step upon the bathroom scale, ignored “over the holidays.” It is why the single biggest sale days for gym memberships are January 2nd and 3rd.

The earliest recorded New Year’s resolutions were made around four thousand years ago, in the Babylonian festival of Akitu. This was held around the spring equinox, the beginning of planting season. Babylonians reflected on any of their behaviors, which might have offended their gods, and resolved to change those behaviors so the right amounts of sunshine and rainfall might bless this year’s crops. New Year’s resolutions were serious business, and while I imagine there was some partying in the 12-day long festival of Akitu, the resolutions that were recorded were reaffirmation of loyalty to the king, return of items borrowed, and repayment of debts. These were promises to the gods and probably not made lightly.

For much of history, the New Year, whenever it was celebrated, was a time of religious reflection and rededication. Julius Caesar, in 46 BCE created the Julian calendar, with the first month, January, named for Janus, the two faced god of thresholds and gateways. It was a time to reflect upon the events of the past and to look forward across the threshold into the future.

John Wesley, English founder of the Christian Methodist Church, created the Covenant Renewal Service for New Year’s Day in 1740. Rosh Hashana, the Jewish New Year, is a fall celebration of the creation of the world, the beginning of the Days of Awe, ten days of reflection culminating in Yom Kippur, days of atonement. The Hijiri, the Islamic New Year, is observed in June to commemorate the new beginning when the Prophet and his followers migrated from Mecca to Medina in 622 CE. The Hiriji is a time of prayer, and reflection, and time with family. Some Muslims make resolutions for the new year.

New Year’s celebrations that are part of religions are celebrated at a time that makes sense for that religion and culture.

These celebrations are reflective and may or may not include a tradition of resolutions.

If there is a resolution tradition, however, it is conscientious. The faithful who make a public declaration of a future action tend to keep their commitment.

In the ole US of A, such faithful achievement of New Year’s resolutions is more the exception than the rule. Gyms and health clubs are full in January, but empty out by March. Every year in December pollsters ask a sample of us if we kept our resolutions from January 1; on average, seventy percent of us did not.

This year I read an analysis that categorized the areas of most American’s resolutions:

• Spend time with family and friends
• Find ways to stay active
• Learn something new
• Help others
• Renovate, or clean up our living space
• Read more
• Eat better

I have no idea about the survey methodology, but I truly believe if Americans did these things we’d be happier and healthier. Not to be negative, but survey says, we do not, or at least seventy percent of us admit that we do not.

Change isn’t easy. Self-improvement is hard. You have to realize that the current state is unacceptable and reject it. Then you have to have a clear vision of the end state and goals.

The human resource, learning and development mafia have drilled into my head that goals must be S.M.A.R.T.

• Specific
• Measurable
• Achievable
• Relevant
• Time Bound

I don’t disagree, even though I rebelled against such goal-setting dogma when someone was trying to manage my personal performance to meet corporate goals. These are good criteria for self-improvement goals. They’re just insufficient.

If I haven’t rejected my Dad-bod, then I’m unlikely to say no to the Häagen Dazs that creates it. If I only have one measure, 165 pounds, then I have no way to track a trend. If my time frame is four months to lose twenty pounds and I don’t break that down to a pound and a half a week and have a maintenance program for month five to forever, it may not happen.

Control and correction: If I want to spend more time with my sister, or my grandchildren or my wife, what does that look like? If I find I didn’t do that in January, what am I going to do in February and March?

I’m not saying, don’t set New Year’s Resolutions; I’m saying set them judiciously, religiously, with an eye toward being in the thirty percent who actually achieve them. Cuz as Robert Burns intoned “To a Mouse On Turning her up in her Nest, with the Plough, November 1785.” The best laid plans o’ Mice and Men, gang aft agley.”

And I hope you know, I am not preaching at you; I’m preaching to myself.

I am the only person who I have any right to expect might listen to my sermon.

Have a healthy, engaged, connected New Year, where you learn what interests you, do what you’ve been putting off, and help others. Or whatever kind of New Year makes you happy.

Just please don’t drink and drive.