How To Defuse A Bomb
Instructions
Page 1
1. Unscrew and remove the cover plate marked “Danger: High Explosives DO NOT REMOVE”
2. Find the blue wire connected to the negative terminal.
3. Cut the blue wire to disarm the bomb.
Page 2
4. But before you cut the blue wire, check to see if there is also a red wire.
5. If you find a red wire connected to the positive terminal, cut the red one.
6. Nota bene: Cutting the blue wire instead of the red wire will cause the bomb to detonate immediately.
7. Good luck!
That’s me. A smudge on the pavement after failing to read and follow the instructions carefully. And my New Year’s resolutions would certainly suffer the same fate were I to take them seriously. But, of course, I don’t. Yes, I publish my “I Hereby Resolve” poem each year in this space, but you didn’t actually think I intend to follow through on any of those long-term goals, do you? I’m honest enough to admit I never look farther than my next step. Or the next sentence in a bomb-defusing manual.
One foot in front of the other, that’s my motto. Head down. That way I won’t step in dog poo. And that mirrors my writing strategy, at least of late. I’ve become a pantser—mostly. Sure, I know where I want to go, but I don’t necessarily have a clear route in mind. As E.L. Doctorow said, “Writing a novel is like driving a car at night. You can see only as far as your headlights.”
I stumble through the year in a similar way. One day at a time, updating my goals and resolutions with each new dawn. Every day offers a fresh opportunity to improve myself and the world. So, yes, I take stock of my life often. That’s what explains the sobbing.
But since this week’s question deals with New Year’s resolutions, here is my poem, yet again, so that you may judge whether I’ve succeeded or simply kidded myself.
Thursday, January 8, 2026
I Hereby Resolve
Upon the first of Jan-u-ary each and every year
I choose a comfy cushioned chair on which to park my rear
Then taking pencil, pen, or plume I think with all my might
About my life, my hopes, my dreams, and then begin to write
I make a note of all my flaws, my missteps, and my sins
And number them from one to ten and sort them into bins:
A catalogue of wishes, goals, and changes to achieve,
To lose some weight, to write more books, and royalties receive!
But not all thoughts are for myself, I also have a heart
So I resolve to do some good, pitch in, and play my part,
To be a better person and to help human-i-tee,
Or maybe just be satisfied to keep my san-i-tee
For all in all you must admit that things are not so good
At home, abroad, in Baltimore, and in your neighborhood
With guns and hate and politics and fears we cannot quell
It often seems we’re on a highway heading straight to hell
But then I reason as I sit here in my pensive pose
Some things I can control and fix, so why not start with those?
My wrath, my sloth, and moods most foul are faults I could improve
Why not correct them right away? Cast out, erase, remove?
While in the past I must admit that my resolve was frail
This time my pledge is resolute; I don’t intend to fail
I vow to change, to grow, to thrive, and forge myself anew
And through hard work and sweat and blood I’ll make my dreams come true
But just in case my will is weak and my plans gang ag-ley
I’ll save this verse for twelve months more until next New Year’s Day
Then with high hopes and best intents I’ll shout for all to hear
The very same prom-is-es that I made and broke this year
710
Seroegheroij
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