New Year, New Calendar, Same Old Self

Friday, December 30, 2005

Page 19

AT THE SIDEBAR (Column)

New Year, New Calendar, Same Old Self

By J’AMY PACHECO

I can’t believe it’s time to buy a new appointment book.

For years, it’s been my habit to wait for the after-Christmas sales to choose a new date book. Sometimes, I even wait until the calendars are marked all the way down to 75 percent off before I pick one out.

I suppose I do this to start each New Year saving money, in a symbolic gesture of how wise and practical I intend to be. I say symbolic because it never quite works out that way — no sooner will I have put my change in my wallet when something cute or funny — but inevitably totally unnecessary to my life — will catch my eye and I’m off to another year of foolishness and impracticality. Or something like that.

The downside of waiting so long to choose an appointment books is that by the time I shop, little variety remains. Before Christmas, stores display appointment books for every taste and schedule: classic comics, entertainment tidbits, lawyer jokes, iconic art, famous sayings, comics about entertainment lawyers saying famous things about iconic art — you name it, there’s a calendar.

By the time the calendars are marked down enough motivate me to purchase, my choices are limited to things like “Fly Fishing with Sports Illustrated Swimsuit Models” and “Famous Gardens of Donut Lovers in Poughkeepsie.”

Last year, I lucked out big time with a spiral bound “Far Side” calendar. It shows a week at a time — which works perfectly for me — and lays flat — which also works perfectly, except that it makes it harder to locate when it gets buried in the paper jungle that is my desk.

This calendar got my attention right away. The title — “Trouble Brewing” — was probably enough to get me to buy, but the cover art was irresistible. It shows two improbable businesses side by side: Doreen’s Nursery (for babies), and Ed’s Dingo Farm.

It’s not that I’m twisted enough to find that funny on its own. I found it funny because for years, my brothers and I have had a running joke about dingoes and babies — and which ate the other. It’s probably one of those “you have to be there” things, but take my word for it — it’s funny. Funny enough that the cover of the calendar made me laugh, so I bought it.

But this calendar has only a few blank days left. It “expires” on Sunday, and I’m going to need something else.

Several years ago, my daughter picked out my calendar. It, too, was spiral bound and laid flat. It was a television trivia calendar, and contained lots of interesting facts about shows I used to like, like “The Brady Bunch” and “Get Smart.”

Unfortunately, the trivia was scattered through the book in such a way that parts of weeks were split from one another, with pages of television trivia in between. That calendar nearly drove me insane, and I was very happy to see the last page when January rolled around.

I don’t know what I’m hoping to find this year. Something funny — that’s a must in my book. I mean, how stressed can you get over a hectic schedule when it’s opposite a cartoon drawing in which two people are “marooned” on a giant floating eyeball and one is saying, “Hang on Betty…Someone’s bound to see us eventually.” Or another where a team stands trying to diffuse an enormous nuclear-looking bomb and one tells another, “Well, it’s a delicate situation sir…Sophisticated firing system, hair-trigger mechanisms, and Bob’s wife just left him last night, so you know his head’s not into this.” That’s funny!

I like things like inspirational sayings and pretty flowers, too. Just not enough to want to look at them for the 365 days it takes for a new year to roll around.

So, that’s resolution number one for me this week: go find the perfect calendar — one that is funny, cheap, and lays flat enough that it can be easily buried on the desk.

In terms of resolutions, that’s about as far as I’m going to go. I could resolve to eat better, exercise more, stop procrastinating so much, be more patient, dust more, see more movies, read more books and spend more wisely — but I won’t. I’ve done that before, and it never works out the way I think it will.

So I’m going into this New Year with an easy-going attitude, a plan to leave my (artificial) Christmas tree up until my daughter’s early February birthday, and a mild curiosity about what things will be like this time next year.

What will the year bring? Only one thing that I know of for sure: a new calendar — eventually.

Happy New Year!