What Do You Want From 2025?
Ah, yes, we’ve reached that point in the calendar. December about to turn to January, out with old, Auld Lang Syne and all the rest. News and social media churn out reflections of the year that was, famous folks who breathed their last breath, best movies, historical moments and all the rest. I won’t address those lists. I also have no resolutions to offer prior to 1/1/25.
When I was 12, my family visited our cousins in Sioux Falls. One morning the kids ventured to a donut shop. At the urging of my older cousin Billy, we decided to buy a dozen donuts. That’s a dozen for each of us. Then we sat there and ate them. Strangely enough, my stomach churned and ached for hours. I stupidity almost cost me the chance to see the Indians and Twins that night. I wish I could say it was my last bad decision. But enough of me.
I’ve never visited the Little Bighorn Battlefield in Montana. I hardly need to recount the events of those two days in 1876 where 250+ soldiers lost their lives, as well as a hundred Cheyenne and Lakota. Custer’s decision, born in arrogance and fueled by ambition became a template for how not to succeed in military planning. Or in life.
Custer is, of course, hardly alone in his foolhardiness. Let’s time travel in the wayback machine to 44BC Rome, site of one of the great assassinations of all time. At a time when Italy basically ruled the world, Julius Caesar was the man. A few senators, notably Cassius and Brutus, took exception to Caesar, like how he viewed himself as a god and wanted to be declared emperor for life. Fair enough.
With blades tucked under their togas, several senators not only killed Caesar, but bathed their hands in his blood and paraded into public. Then they tried to rally support from the panicked public. Gee, what could possibly go wrong with that plan? One historian said Brutus and Cassius strategized how to kill Caesar, but had no plan on what to do afterwards. Yep. Eventually, the conspirators all died in a civil war. At least we got Marc Antony’s (aka, Charlton Heston) speech, “Friends, Romans, Countrymen, lend me your ears!”
John Wilkes Booth, Lee Harvey Oswald, Mark Chapman, Leon Czolgosz (bet you have to look that one up), all had plans for the moment, but not so much afterwards. Maybe there’s a lesson there, and I don’t mean “Don’t be an assassin.” I mean, it’s true, don’t be an assassin. But there’s more to it.
History is replete with folks who don’t think through their decisions, and it’s not just assassins. How about movies? The classic example is Heaven’s Gate from 1980. Long in duration (219 minutes!), boring and convoluted in plot, surrounded by bad PR, and ravaged by critics, this western stands as the poster child of poor decision-making. How awful is this movie? In addition to water-boarding, forcing terror suspects to watch Heaven’s Gate has been outlawed by the Geneva Convention.
More recently, 2013 brought us The Lone Ranger which lost $240 million. A mediocre western from the 1950’s built on stereotypes loses barrels of cash. Wow, big surprise. My question is how did they manage to spend nearly $500 million to make it? I hope Depp and the others got their money up front on that one.
There are tons of lousy movies, TV shows, songs to add to the list. Feel free to do that in the comment section below. The larger point is not simply the quality of artistic endeavors, but the thought process that created the product in the first place. It’s like young Josh Baskin in Big raising his hand in the toy meeting. “I don’t get it,” he says several times about a robot that turns into a building. He understands the product, but not the thinking behind it.
Just for fun, here’s an article about how giant companies made terrible, awful, very bad decisions on how to sell their products. It covers the gamut from McDonald’s to Dove Soap to Audi, Starbucks, and Sony. Hard to believe they could make such poor decisions. I guess they’re just regular people too.
On a less public level, I’ve known (as I’m sure you have too) plenty of folks who somehow came to bewildering, life-altering conclusions, far more serious than donut binges. Some have chosen divorce thinking it would be the greener grass to solve all their problems. Others sold their soul for the almighty dollar, as if money was a panacea. So it goes. Money, sex, power, fame, glory, all powerful allures now as they have been for millenia. One of the great disappointments of my life is realizing that adults are too often children with better toys.
Musicians have sung about terrible decisions, a trait we all recognize. In Won’t Get Fooled Again, The Who advised us to avoid their error after their foray into politics. The Doobies gave us What a Fool Believes in reference to a young man who carries a torch for a woman from somewhere back in his long ago. Yeah, she doesn’t even know he exists. Showing us that country folks can also be morons, Willie Nelson laments over the Heartaches of a Fool, a man who traded love for greenbacks. And that’s just a tiny sampling.
See the pattern? Foolishness. As 2025 approaches, I avoid resolutions easily shattered, promises to myself which I so easily break. I’ll also eschew goal setting as a measure of the success of my time. Goals are fine but too often out of my control.
Instead, I’ll strive for avoiding poor decisions, heeding the advice and examples of those who have come before me, avoiding the pitfalls of the stubbornly silly and moronic. In a more positive vein, I’ll seek wisdom, consider the consequences of decisions, let my yes be yes. Despite the urging of Disney and others, I’ll follow my head more than my heart.
In simpler terms, Melanie and I have drilled a three-word sentence into our childrens’ brains. Same three words for decades. We abbreviated it with three letters: DBS. Don’t Be Stupid.
Happy 2025.
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Thoroughly enjoyable read, Mike. Couple thoughts…
if you were in Sioux Falls when you were 12, I would’ve been 18 years old. I don’t think I was in Sioux Falls when I was 18. Maybe I didn’t go on that trip because I was working that summer?
it was fun to read about all the non-thought through endeavors, primarily in the arts and in individual person’s lives.
As a therapist, I work with people all the time who are going through the experience of a decision that didn’t turn out too well; so there’s that.
I don’t make New Year’s resolutions either. I just do what I do – and now I can add to my life a new three letter axiom: DBS
Cheers Brother
My timing could be off. I was around 12, old enough to know better (aren’t we all?). My first mistake was following BillyBalls to the donut shop and listening to his advice. It was the time we went to the old Met Stadium to see a game. Were you there?
I’m sure you see way more of the bad decisions than I do. Kudos to you for the work you do shepherding folks through that. Must be tough sledding sometimes.
You’re welcome for DBS. Feel free to add that to your sessions. Kind of like Newhart’s pithy advice to his patients:
Thanks for your support, brother!
Looking at the greatest baseball website retrosheet.org
The Indians played in Minnesota 6/20/72
6/13/69.
The Hurley reunion was the 1st Sunday in July.
But I’m sure Jim was not there.
When I think of Peter Paul and Mary singing “leaving on a Jet Plane” it reminds me of that trip. The song came out in 1969.
Nothing about our donut escapade? That was your brainstorm.
At the game we sat in the upper deck right behind home plate. A foul ball hit you in the hands and you dropped it. I want to say Oscar Gamble and his ‘fro made an appearance as well.
We were there in ’66 for grandpa’s birthday. That was a great trip. Last time mom was there. In ’72, we went to Disneyland after dad’s graduation at Chapman.
The next time we saw Balls’ fam was in ’70 when the whole fam minus cousin Barb drove up in their station wagon. Great memories. In terms of DBS, at my age, I can look back at my stupid stuff and laugh.
As always you provoke my happier memories with fam. I thank thee.
Thou art welcome. With gratitude and bravery, may your day be blessed, as well as you and yours.