Resolutions on a Presidential Scale
News, Winter 2017
BY JILL BRUCKNER
Every year, I make New Year’s resolutions right here in my column, because I’m hopeful that a public forum for my proposed improvements means I’ll be held accountable.
Don’t get me wrong. My resolutions aren’t complicated. I mean, I want to be successful. Plus, I’m a proponent of personal mediocrity. That’s why I choose reasonable goals. You know, such as, “Don’t lose any weight I can’t find.”
Seriously, if I lose weight, where does it go—on you? In fact, let me help you by gaining weight. Whatever you lose, I’ll just pick up and carry around…on my hips. No problem. I’m super-sweet like that.
In fact, I’m so caring, I’ve resolved to skip resolutions for myself entirely—they’re SO last year! Instead, in an effort to be other-centered and naked of narcissism, I’m offering resolutions for celebrities, politicians and notable individuals.
OK, actually, I’m offering only one individual a treasure trove of personal pledges; and, unlike researchers or analysts, I’m basing my resolutions on, well, whatever dribbles from my cranium right now. Spontaneity is key, I say. I also say, “Send me money,” but no one ever does that.
The lucky winner of my selfless, no-obligation resolution list is my friendly ol’ chum Donald Trump.
For those of you who’ve not contemplated offering “Donnie T” (as he likes me to call him), a plateful of proposed resolutions, I ask, “What gives? Do you not want to see your name in Twitter lights?
I do—my name, that is, not yours. Not to mention, you’ll be totally gobsmacked when you read my Donnie-lutions. (Mostly, I just wanted to say “gobsmacked” and “Donnie-lutions” in the same sentence). Curiously, only one of those is a word I invented.
With that, I offer you my humbly HUGE resolutions fit for a president:
1. Mr. President (Donnie T), please create Twin Day at the White House, then dress like Alec Baldwin playing you on SNL. Let the hilarity ensue and see if you and Alec can tell yourselves apart. You two buddies can also carry around coloring / activity books and sign awesome things into law, like dot-to-dot parakeets and those tricky mazes where you help Gingy find his gumdrop buttons.
2. Fill your birthday piñata with candy this year, not canned goods. Holy Abracadabra! Last year, when you whammed your papier-mâché birthday donkey (weird that it was not an elephant) with that vintage Babe Ruth slugger—and it rained cans of green beans and condensed milk—I thought I was going to have a heart attack. But instead, after they’d finished stitching up my noggin, I felt more dizzy than anything. Phew! Thank goodness for Obamacare.
3. Wear a Presidential Seal costume during a game of hide-and-seek, and then just lie prone on the floor of the Oval Office. You’ll be totally camo. Then when the Secret Service hollers, “Ready or not, here we come,” they’ll spot you only if you giggle. Don’t chuckle! Just be very, very still in your Presidential Seal Suit, and maybe you can take a little nap right there on the carpet.
All kidding aside, being President of the United States is no laughing matter. I get that. That’s why I’m
pretty sure I don’t want to be Commander in Chief. However, the cool thing about a career in politics is, when you campaign and say, “Send me money,” people actually do. On second thought, I’m totally running for office! W